#my issue with it was The Sensation so if i'm asleep and can't feel it then No Problemo 👍

[gender-euphowrya]

YEA BOI!!!!!! SURGERY IN OCTOBER YAAAAAAAA

[drearycrow]

Hi, i absolutely love your writing! Um, gathering the courage to ask, with Kunikida, comfort (me towards him) , perhaps combined with loss of virginity?....the mind is a strange monkey . Anyway, thank you for what you've written so far!

Notes: I'm glad you like my writing! I love writing about Kunikida. I don't see much appreciation for him. Why is writing smut so hard? NSFW warning mdni!

You and Kunikida have been dating for a year now. It's a happy relationship but you two haven't been intimate. Kunikida wants to be closer with you but he's a virgin. He's nervous to bring it up to you. Kunikida spends a week trying to muster up the courage to bring it up to you.

You and Kunikida walk home together after a long day at work. The commute home was silent. Kunikida would occasionally glance at you but didn't say a word. Today was the day to bring up his issue. He was quite nervous about it. Once you two arrive home, Kunikida grabs your shoulder. "Hey can we please talk for a minute?" You turn your head to see a stern look on his face. "What is it that you want to talk about?" He sits down on the couch and pats the empty seat next to him. You sit down and look at him. Kunikida closes his eyes, lets out a sigh before speaking up. "I want to get closer with you but there's something holding me back. I um..." He rubs the back of his neck as a blush appears on his cheeks. "I've never slept with anyone before. I want you to be my first." His cheeks are visibly pink and he looks away to hide his embarrassment. You smile at him and you grab his chin to make him look at you. "Hey it's alright, I would love to be your first. Kunikida smiles back at you and gives you a kiss.

It's been an hour since you've had your conversation. Kunikida has you laying on your stomach as he pounds away. He didn't expect it to feel amazing. His movements are slow yet rough at the same time. This newfound sensation is driving him crazy. The way you moan is music to his ears. Your head gets shoved into the pillow as he gets more rough. "Ngh- you're squeezing me tight, my love. Can't get enough of it?" You start to moan louder when he hits your sweet spot. He takes it as a good sign and continues to hit it. "Kunikida I'm close..." You barely managed to babble out. You bite the pillow to suppress the moan but that hardly did anything. "Me too..." His fingers grip tightly on your hips, leaving crescent shaped marks on them. With a loud grunt, Kunikida spills inside you. You finish shortly after him. Both of you breathe heavily trying to come down from the intense orgasm. Kunikida slowly pulls out hissing from the sensitivity. He lays down next to you and pulls you closer to him. You lay your head down on his chest, hearing his heart race. "I love you, my dear." He kisses the top of his head. "I love you too." Both of you fall asleep shortly after, happy that you've grown closer.

[imagined-rubbermen]

There's a lot that no one ever tells you about acclimating to becoming a rubber drone. Granted, everyone that used the Dronification Kit can't really talk about it, and most of them won't communicate just because their "master" forbids, or something. The lack of needs wasn't hard to get used to, if anything that's a lot of worries off my back. But no breathing? No talking? The lack of bodily functions felt alien. At least I could still see and hear, even if I lacked the body parts to do so. But my hearing and vision was so clear, so crisp, that it was overwhelming. The combined sensory deprivation and amplification was a lot to handle, so I did what usually helps me; I took a walk.

It was raining that night, and the rain kinda helped calm me down. I could differentiate each droplet hitting my new rubber skin, and it drowned out my anxiety. The increased sensitivity was a godsend now, and I savoured it. As I walked, my movements became more simplified, rigid, focused, yet flexible, softer, pliable. I assumed that's my flesh and bone turning into rubber now. The ideas in my mind about how to use my new body made me feel like my blood was pumping, even if I lacked such.

When I got home, I went to the bathroom to dry off. However, the rain made me so smooth, I got a little carried away. I relaxed and felt myself up right on the spot. I rubbed myself all over, my tightly defined chest, my smooth helmet like face, even my crotch. That last one was the biggest surprise, I didn't have anything down there. No shaft, no balls, no anus. There was a weird lock imprint on my bulge, but other than that, I really liked it. I knew I'd love being a featureless rubber drone.

Eventually I felt the sensation of climaxing; the rush, the release, the exhaustion, but I didn't come. After all, I didn't need human anatomy to pleasure myself. The best part? It took almost no time at all for my new rubbery, smooth, elastic body was ready for round two, and I went again, my body squeaking alone on the bathroom floor. After climaxing again, I let myself fall asleep on the bathroom floor.

It's weird now, my life that is. So many people think I have a "master" or an "owner" but instead I'm the master of my life. I'm made of rubber now, and if anyone gives me any issues, they can barely hurt me, while I show them what I can do. Now I have complete control of myself, my emotions, my body, my life. My libido is ready to fire on all cylinders whenever, and I can feel myself for hours sometimes, and can easily stop. I was like a machine, although I kinda am.

Of course, I saw an opportunity, and sometimes sell my "services" to lonely men that need that sexual satisfaction of an object. Of course they know I'm in charge, and getting into a fight with a rubber drone is not something I'd advise (although some of those guys really liked it, so what do I know?). I'll let them play with me. Some guys like to smell and lick me, like how I would play with rubber drones before I became one. Some guys would try to fuck me, although without any orifices, their shafts rubbed against me until they came. A few beat me, which I kinda liked, probably cause my rubber body would bend and twist with ease.

Mainly though I've found myself being kind of a therapist, letting men air out their emotions out. Sure, a few were still in the closet, and few were still a virgin. For those men, I went the extra mile. Of others, they'd just talk. I guess being a gay man can be isolating at times, like how almost no rubber drone I met seems to be independent. Unsurprisingly, being made of rubber meant I was comfortable to hug and cuddle, and in those moments, being a rubber drone is really worth it.

From that, my life is perfect now. The strangest thing is that I don't need clothing anymore. My body is so featureless that I don't feel naked, like my rubber skin is a suit anyways. Even when I do wear clothes I tend to mainly wear plain, oversized clothes, mostly gym stuff. However, sometimes at night I'll walk alone in the nude, just me and the night air. And when it rains like that first night I was a drone, it's so... Perfect...

It's not for everyone, maybe not even you. But if you still want to experience it, I'd suggest a gimp suit first before getting a Dronification Kit. Or if you just wanna find out what a rubber drone is like, I'm $50 hour.

[leviafin]

Big Fish Phantom Shifts

Phantom shifts are often kind of "in the way" for a lot of people. Wings clipping through or bumping into walls. Antlers or horns bonking things. Tails being annoying to deal with when faced with the back of a chair... You get it. I have... a definite problem with this in a very similar way, but it's different than any of the guys in my system with phantom shifts. Namely because I'm a very fucking long fish, made for open water.

My tail at its shortest? Easily 3x the height of my body, if not more. It replaces my legs when I get a phantom shift and I definitely rely on using my cane more in those moments because my legs feel a lot less "real" than they should, and I always feel at more risk of tripping or taking a step wrong. I can still feel my human legs, sure, but they kind of become an afterthought and less present in my mind. Kind of dissociated, less a part of me and more a part of... Something else.

I don't directly feel every inch of my phantom tail though either--more like... There's a sense of there should be a sensation there. I don't feel much aside from where it should connect and curve away from my human body--everything else is a lot less physical. The sense of "this should have feeling" means I don't get hurt or any real direct sensation from it interacting or not fitting in physical objects properly, but it's still a sense of mental discomfort. A sense of "I shouldn't be able to fit here", or a sense of "this should be kinda painful". If I'm in a space where I can't make a logical conclusion to where my tail could possibly fit in a comfortable way, it's like a nagging at the back of my brain telling me to move. Even though I can't physically feel where my tail is or that it would be uncomfortable, my brain knows I shouldn't be able to be in whatever position it is that I'm currently in, and urges me to get to somewhere more comfortable ASAP.

Even though it doesn't cause much physical distress, the tail being so long makes it incredibly annoying when dealing with shifts in the body and performing daily tasks. Walking around outside? Oops, that car just ran over my tail, that should probably hurt. That guy is standing in it, okay sure. It doesn't fit into the car I'm in and my brain can't figure out what to do with that information.

I try to do things in my house? The thing hardly fits in my room, let alone on my bed. Turning around corners can be annoying because my brain will scream about how I'm turning in a way that would hurt my tail. Sitting on a couch is the same issue as the bed. Oops, the dog just walked up and fell asleep where my tail should be, that's bound to have some sort of discomfort.

It's overall not the biggest issue, it's manageable, but it's a weird psychological thing that bugs me sometimes. I'm glad I don't have physical sensation in it because that would be impossible to manage, but having the mental push of "this isn't right, your tail can't fit here" still is... An Experience to have. Most other people in my system can feel a large portion of their phantom limbs, but it honestly makes sense as to why I can't feel mine in the same way--I just literally wouldn't fit in human society. In both of my forms (vast/hunt leviathan and Sebastian Solace), my body is made for open water, not houses, stores or cars.

[karlachismylife]

How do you think the 141 feels about weed?

Oh buddy, I'm sure there are people on this site that can give you a better answer, cuz weed is very much illegal in my country, and I fumbled my two-three chances to get in on the fun cuz I have actually quite the law-abiding friend circle (meaning I am the only one who ever got arrested and that was for protesting, yeah), so I actually have very limited understanding what's it like. But I do have internet and I am watching media, so I'll try to think about it.

CW: weed smoking, just in case, mentions of addiction

I feel like Ghost would actually benefit from it a lot. Once he gets stabilized without it and stops seeing nightmares every night, he can actually enjoy the relaxed state it puts him in, all the yelling in his brain dumbed down to a white noise static. It's not a reliable treatment for PTSD, but it works to just slow him down and get him out of the constant sympathetic nervous system response. He would be wary of the negative effects though, cuz even one bad sesh can fuck him up BAD. And also he probably has a few tons of baggage about any drug use considering his backstory, but I like a "actually got a grip on it and not falling apart anymore" Ghost, so he's worked through the most painfull issues already. So yeah, Ghost - sometimes smoking for medical reasons (maybe he even thinks it's better than taking too many pills). And he mostly just gets eepy from it.

Price one hundred percent smoked when he was younger. Probably with Nikolai, lol, that man just saw this green Lieutenant with the weight of the whole world on his shoulders and decided to help poor baby John out by loosening him up a bit. That came out wrong, but also right, oops. It's totally about that fucking stress of constant responsibility, the heaviness of allllll the decisions he had to make, and the never-ending grind to be even better. Now, I think, he's not too keen on it, cuz it just leaves him sloppier, all that filtration system in his body working a little worse (probably from all the times he got toxins in his system and nearly overdosed on pills to keep himself in working condition instead of taking a break), so it just has too long of an effect to his liking. He's relaxing with a normal cigar and whiskey or a pint now, it just more controllable for him. But if you manage to get him on vacation or something, he won't refuse probably. Might actually just fall asleep, but mostly it has effect on his body, it just visibly relaxes. Probably takes off some of that back pain too.

Gaz would be on the fence morally about it, cuz he just has the strictest moral code out of them all in my opinion, in the sense that he doesn't want to bend his own rules (but he totally can bend someone else's). So he might've been apprehensive about weed at first, but once he built a more nuanced worldview, he probably started considering it not that big of a deal, maybe not evil at all. Probably not embracing it to the point of regularly having, but if you're having fun, he'll have fun too. I also love rave scene Gaz, so when he's on leave he's probably even more chill about it. I do think he would prefer edibles though. Ohhh bake him some special brownies! That's what he can't say no to. He's even more fun when he's high, but sometimes a switch clicks and he gets into some deep philosophical shit (that actually makes sense, because he's too smart). Talks for three hours straight, gets his throat sore and tongue dry, makes references to ancient greek phlosophers, marxism and Albert Camu. Probably ends up making out with someone who didn't get half of what that man just said, but wow, how did he say that...

Soap is the one who should NEVER have access to weed, but you look away for a moment and he's chewing on an edible. His ADHD gets horrible under influence, he can't keep a train of thought even for two minutes, his body isn't hyperactive, but his mind is just a whirlwind of colours, sounds, impulses and sensations. He's the "show him a finger and watch him laugh to tears for fifteen minutes straigt " type, but if he keeps adding more on top of what he consumed just now, he might actually harm himself. He'll just lose control and spiral with all the impulsiveness and confusion of an uninhibited ADHD brain, and he knows that, so he's never doing it alone just to be safe, poor baby. Draws A LOT while he's high, actually, and it looks different from his usual sketches. He might actually like the weed ones more, so it's a possible incentive for him to keep consuming. I wouldn't say he's addicted or anything, but he has obvious troubles with self-control.

[thelostgirl21]

So, I learned something new about "skinny white men" today, and I wasn't ready!

Basically, there's this video of 3 gay men trying to figure out who the secret bottom is in a group of 5 other gay dudes.

And, around the 1:45 mark, one of them goes:

"I'm going to say that he's a top, only because... I don't know if people know this about skinny white men, they tend to..."

While the other guy is like "I was thinking the same thing..."

And the one in the middle is confused going "What?"

And I'm right there with him, because the very moment they said "skinny white men" my mind immediately went to this character:

And now, it's clear that I've absolutely got to know why they think "skinny white men" tend to make especially great top material, apparently. For headcanons science, you know?

And I have no idea what I was expecting (if you want to listen to the episode before I spoil the answer for you, go watch it now)...

...but skinny white men having such long dicks that it's like extra appendages wasn't it!

And then, them appreciatively going "there's something good under there" while more or less hoping that he's a top, so he can put it to use more often, just about killed me!

Later, around the 6:35 mark, when they are asking him about what his favorite positions are, he's also the only one that answers "laying down doggy style" (and actually has to explain what that means).

"Laying down doggy style" (also called "flat doggy style") has a few variations but, in the way he's explaining it (i.e. completely lying down on top of his partner), it reduces the depth of penetration, and apparently some bottoms love it, because the weight of their partner on top of them basically feels like they have this warm, comforting, "heavy blanket" covering them during sex.

So it's... actually a very good choice for someone who enjoys topping, has a really long dick (therefore losing some penetration depth won't be an issue) and who is skinny enough that they can fully lie down on top of their partner without crushing them under their weight!

So... while he never confirmed if what they said about "skinny white men" was true, let's just say that his answer is suspiciously compatible with the stereotype!

And now, I've apparently decided that "Yup! Radovid is going to totally fit that skinny white man stereotype, too!", because I really can't help but think that it would be kind of one of the most perfect sexual positions for Radovid and Jaskier!

Assuming, of course, that Jaskier enjoys bottoming (my headcanon is that he does, although more as a verse than as a strict bottom... I'd tend to really see Radovid as a verse, too), having Radovid's full (or near full) weight on top of him while they are having sex, with Radovid being able to nibble on his ears, kiss his neck, fully embrace him, bodies flush against each others, and being extra cuddly and affectionate is definitely something I could see them both doing and greatly enjoying.

And yeah, it does nicely tie into my "Jaskier has ADHD" headcanon, because as someone with ADHD myself, I'm literally obsessed about the sensation of being "squished", and respond extremely well to deep pressure therapy/stimulation (I recently discovered a 15 lbs open weave knit weighted blanket that I use every night to fall and stay asleep, and wonder how I've ever been able to manage without it!).

This article about ADHD love languages has a very nice way of phrasing it:

Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body—Physical Touch ‘Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body’ is often better known as applying deep pressure.  Techniques like deep-pressure hugs can often be incredibly soothing, instilling feelings of security, comfort, and safety in a loved one. What it means to someone neurodivergent: Although deep pressure is not only for neurospicy folks, they tend to enjoy and need it more than neurotypical people. The deep pressure from a tight hug, a weighted blanket, etc., helps produce feel-good hormones, such as oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine, and decreases stress hormones like cortisol.

And with everything they've both been through and seen, I've no doubts that Jaskier and Radovid likely both suffer from some form of PTSD.

And maybe there are nights where Jaskier has a particularly hard time falling asleep, and/or keeps waking up because he's having nightmares, and they've discovered that having Radovid affectionately make love to him in that position really helps soothe Jaskier's nervous system, helps him relax, and simply floods his body with "love" and "feel good" hormones, so he's then able to actually fall asleep and spend a good night.

Of course, they likely wouldn't know the whole science behind why it's working, but they'd be able to observe the effects it has on Jaskier.

And given how Jaskier's body looks physically "cushier" than Radovid's, I'm guessing that Radovid would be much more comfortable and happier being the one lying down on top of him in those moments, too.

Like if the boys are going to go for the suspended congress position, I'd fully expect Jaskier to do the lifting and topping!

But if they're going flat doggy style, Radovid just might be Jaskier's perfect top!

[larytello]

I don't see enough people (none at all) talking about these specific "the challenge of sleeping when it's way too hot" issues: People with sensory issues and people with physical "I have no control over it" issues.

Let me explain bc this is what's happening to me these last nights and it's making me exhausted all day long simply because I seem to NOT HAVE A SINGLE GOOD NIGHT OF SLEEP as of lately with all this heat. Under "keep reading" because it got a little longer than I expected.

1- I'm not sure if this should be counted as a sensory issue bc neurotypicals around me often invalidate it, but I don't sleep well if I'm not covered. Like, I don't feel safe, my brain just absolutely REFUSES to relax to allow me to rest. I need a cover, a blanket, no matter if it's big/heavy/fluffy or just the thinnest bedsheet ever - I just need something OVER me in order to feel ok enough to sleep comfortably. And this is a big issue™ when it's way too fucking hot at night and you can't cover yourself without melting in a sweat puddle sticking to your bed in a matter of a few minutes.

"Well, if it's so hot, you can turn on the fan or an AC if you got one!" Aaaaaand that's where we get into issue #2

2- Everytime I fall asleep, since forever, both my eyes and my mouth hang open. Really. My eyes stay half open when I sleep and I spend ALL FUCKING NIGHT not blinking as much as I should - they shouldn't even stay open when I sleep at all so there's that too. It's a wonder how I still don't need glasses and my sight is still somewhat perfect tbh. And of course there's nothing I can do about it. I'm asleep for fucks sake.

But then again, what happens when you have a fan or an AC on you while you sleep with eyes and mouth hanging open and you can't consciously keep them fucking shut as they should? They DRY. THEY FUCKING DRY. I wake up with eyes and throat stinging, dry saliva on the corners of my lips actively hurting them because when I move my lips upon waking up, they crack the skin and it HURTS as a bitch. I need to blink for several minutes, sometimes use eyedrops to help with my eyes, they hurt a lot too. And I hate the sensation of those eyedrops. They "taste" bad in my eyes.

So literally, during tropical summer plus global warming and the weather going crazier EVERY PASSING YEAR, every night is a not funny game of choosing if I keep the fan on and sleep with a cover (which makes me still feel like I'm melting even with the fan on me 🥵), or do I sleep without a cover for the temperature to be tolerable but then my body refuses to relax and I can't sleep well one way or another???? Btw I'm poor, my house doesn't have an AC, but I tried to sleep with an AC at my aunt's several times and I couldn't fucking SPEAK the next day. Which is a damn problem when you're a teacher.

And people wonder why I'm exhausted all day long lately. No wonder, I can't sleep well. Even if the fan is not directed to my head, the wind still goes around in the room and the slightest breeze is enough to dry my eyes when I'm not blinking them BECAUSE I AM ASLEEP.

Not to mention I'm currently STILL the sole provider of income to this house of three since 2019 by selling commissions (and I'm a slow artist at that) and only this year I got a "job" as an English teacher but I'm not paid not even a minimum wage because it's not an "official" job, it's more like internship and I get paid a certain amount for each class I teach in the period. It's nowhere near enough to cover the house bills, food and cleaning supplies (and medicine), I'm now panicking thinking about how Summer didn't even REALLY start yet here in Brazil but I'm already dreading the energy bills to come these next months as we're keeping two fans on in the house at almost all times. Also I don't get paid by the end of December and January because there's no classes to teach in this period. And still gotta wait to finally get paid by the end of February after teaching all month long. Three months without money while the Summer fries us and the bills will skyrocket.

Thank you big corporates who didn't give a fucking shit about global warming warnings in the previous decades, thank you global leaderships who keep doing those beautiful meetings with heartfelt speeches about how we need plans and action to slow down and/or cease the impeding doom but never did anything for real. It's always all words and no action. Guess you never thought you'd live to see the consequences of your lack of actions, huh? There's been a SANDSTORM in the Amazon Rainforest and the rivers are drying out killing animals AND PEOPLE and there hasn't been any rain in the RAINFOREST for over a month. The North and Northeast of South America are dying so hot it's been and it just keeps getting hotter. Two days straight Brasil beats its own record of energy consumption. Congratulations, really, you done fantastically fucked up I can't even think of words to describe it.

I've been awake for two hours and half and my eyes are still stinging.

[shiraishi--kanade]

hi feel free not to answer this but you're one of the only chronically ill people i know and i probably need to get my blood drawn because i am having Many Issues but i am. super afraid of needles. so basically the question is are needles that draw blood like,, really big? do they hurt a lot? sorry this is probably a dumb question im just terrified auhfguhgahhf

No worries! And in my experience, no not really! My blood draws never really hurt; it's about the same feeling like if your leg falls asleep pins and needles sensations, but only for a split second when the needle comes in and out. If done correctly, you won't feel anything during the actual process, maybe just a bit dizzy & numb. It may sting for a while after the draw (mine still does) but it's really really minor, you probably won't even notice it much. It may also bruise; it's pretty normal too.

The size of the needle varies, though, so here's a word of advice: search out for a more modern, accomodating hospital/lab, and a nurse who works with pediatrics patients, if you can (regardless of your actual age, they are just chiller about anxious people in general imo). Fear of needles is super common and is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about (I actually do well with blood draws but I'm Not Good with IVs and injections, the latter ones moreso than the former), so there is a solid chance they can accommodate you by using a smaller needle or/and local anesthetic (thought I think the last one is... Rarer. My dentist did it, but that man is a force of his own. I don't know how many of his practises are like... Normal).

Getting a good nurse that puts you at ease is so, so important. I cannot overstate it. I don't mean to make this sound bad but I can't lie either, if they mess up, can't find your vein, or just generally suck & rush you & make you feel stupid for asking for accomodations, get up and Leave. Because messed up draws do hurt (not too much, though! I'd say it's comparable to like... Accidentally biting your tongue kinda hurt). I only had one bad experience and I never went to that nurse again.

In general though: the needle probably isn't as big as you think it'd be, it's smaller than the injection ones usually, and you can ask for a smaller one; it doesn't hurt! Actually when I first got my blood drawn from my vein at 10 or so, I was like, wait, that's it? Because of a stupid policy my hospital usually only took blood from the fingertips for kids (don't ask. I don't get it either), and oh god, that hurt Much More than the "adult" one. I was so relieved after being scared out of my mind three minutes earlier. You don't have as much sensation in that area as you for in your fingertips, so if you ever had a papercut and want to compare: papercut hurts more & for longer than the blood draw does.

Good luck to you!! I hope you figure whatever's going on haha. Remember to drink water before the draw to make everyone's lives easier if it comes down to it!

[samkerrworshipper]

thanks for letting me know :) I was planning to go to sleep a little after 1 but I might get distracted and still be awake when you release it (my sleep schedule is disastrous atm)

I don't know if you will be able to answer this but you've been helpful with other endo questions. I get really bad period cramps but can't use a heat-pack because it makes me feel nauseous due to having a sensitive stomach. I've been thinking of buying a tens machine to alleviate the pain but I'm worried it will be too intense on my stomach. So I was wondering how intense the sensation is? Also are tens machine as effective at alleviating pain as advertised (I've seen a number of people say they barely feel the cramps while using it) because if so then I'm willing to put up with the nausea.

i can relate to the sleep schedule issues and can confirm i will be asleep by the time the fic drops

in relation to the tens machine! i already had one thanks to gymnastics injuries so gave it a try and found it worked really well for me! they seem scary but can be super effective for some people! if there is an option, id recommend borrowing one from a friend if they have one and just giving it a try (obviously this isn’t an option for everybody) for me i leave it on a pretty low setting

it’s not the most effective form of pain management for me but it can be relieving and especially if you can’t handle heat packs it could be a good form of pain management!

other kinds of devices i use are ultrasound therapy wands, which is just another device i got from gymnastics that i find can help! cupping and acupuncture are also super helpful if you know somebody who offers it!

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 34

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is an Adult, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker, Passive Aggressive Canned Soup, Two Morons Trying to Try Their Best, Borrowing Characters

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Chapter 34

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He woke at four and was quiet as he dressed and left Peter asleep in their suite.

He’d grab a cup of coffee on the road - he had a long day ahead of him.

Only he was greeted at the front door by Tony and Sharon, both wide awake despite the hour. Tony, he’d expected to be awake since the man had the worst sleeping habits of anyone he’d ever met but Sharon?

“Heartburn,” she said in answer to his questioning eyebrow. “And I wanted to give you this.”

She handed him a nondescript black mobile.

“CSB issue, untraceable,” she said. “There will be an identical car at the midway point.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your help with this.”

“And that’s our stopping point,” Sharon said with a small smile. “Plausible deniability if worse comes to worst.”

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” he assured them. “Call me if anything comes up. And please,” he looked at Tony. “Take care of Peter.”

“We will,” Tony said. “He’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t used to waking up without Stephen next to him. It only happened once or twice a month - usually because of an overnight or early-morning emergency - since they’d married and he didn’t like the sensation.

At least Stephen had left a note for him.

Peter,

I’ve left for my meeting. I’ll return sometime before this evening. Behave.

Stephen

He rolled his eyes at the last line. When didn’t he behave? Sure, he had his moments every now and then but all in all, he didn’t cause Stephen or anyone else problems.

He showered and, realizing that Stephen had left before putting the cage back on him, locked himself back up before he dressed and went to eat breakfast.

He’d gotten used to the feel of it.

Sharon was in the morning room, drinking a cup of hot tea and eating a warmed chocolate croissant that both looked and smelled delicious.

"Good morning," she greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I woke up," he admitted. "It's weird, not waking up before Stephen. Thankfully it doesn't happen that often."

Sharon smiled, took another sip of the tea. "I can't relate," she said. "Tony's sleep schedule is so varied and thanks to my past life I'm a light sleeper." She winced and touched the side of her baby bump. "And this one doesn't seem to think much of sleep, either."

"More kicking practice?" Peter asked.

She nodded, still rubbing. "My internal organs are at Baby Starter's mercy."

Peter surveyed the sideboard and filled his plate with cut fruit, eggs, and fried potatoes. "Do you want anything?" He asked her.

"I wouldn't say no to some of the fruit," she said. "It actually goes pretty well with this damned leaf water Tony keeps foisting on me."

Peter dished some of the fruit onto a small plate and carried it over along with his own. He even poured himself a cup of tea in solidarity.

"In his defense it is good tea," he said after trying it. He’d never minded hot tea though coffee was definitely more aromatic.

She nodded reluctantly. "It really is. We're not telling Tony that, however."

“I’ll take the secret to my grave,” he teased. “He’s left for the office then?”

“He left just before seven this morning. There’s a board meeting he rescheduled since I’m due any day now and he wanted the meeting out of the way.” She glanced at the tennis bracelet watch she wore. “He should be back just after noon.”

“Well, I’m not a genius inventor but I’m happy to visit with you.”

“You’re too sweet for words, Peter,” she said, eyes suspiciously bright.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s funny - before I got married, that definitely wasn’t a sentiment that was applied to me very often. Maybe I’ve mellowed.”

“Oh? What would have been applied to you, then?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “‘Smartass’ and ‘wise guy’ were popular ones. One time my Aunt May’s friend Gilda called me ‘saucy’.” He smirked. “Stephen calls me a brat, but I’m pretty sure he actually likes that about me.”

“He does,” Sharon confirmed. “He really does.”

It was a lazy morning, spent out by the pool with both of them ensuring they were adequately protected with sunscreen, even though they weren’t swimming.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a dip?”

Peter shook his head and turned a page in his book. “No, I’m good. With my luck I’d drown and then there would be an investigation and publicity, and then Stephen would have a bad day…”

Sharon laughed and then cried out. “Ah!”

Peter sat up quickly. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t say anything, just rubbed her bump, wincing. “Just really active today.”

“Do you want to go inside?”

She started to shake her head and then abruptly nodded. “Yes, I think that would be best.”

Peter helped her up and was about to escort her back inside when he noticed the puddle on the ground beneath the lounge chair and that the back bottom of her yellow caftan was soaked.

Oh, hell.

“We need to call Tony,” he said.

Sharon pulled out her mobile from the pocket of her caftan.

Peter sat her down on a chair after placing a thick towel on it as cover and then pulled out his own mobile to message Stephen.

He heard Sharon speaking to someone at the office, her voice testy.

“I’m aware that he’s in a board meeting. Do you really think I’d be calling if it wasn’t an emergency?” She paused. “Listen. Just get me Pepper. Now.”

“Pep? My water just broke. I’m here at the mansion with Peter. I know Tony’s in with the board, but if you could pass on the message, that would be great.”

She looked at Peter after hanging up. “Tony will be here in probably fifteen minutes.” She smirked as she rested a hand on her bump. “Pepper will be on the warpath if the board even thinks about trying to hold him up.”

“Do we need to call for a driver to take us to the hospital?”

“No, Tony will drive us once he gets here. What I need is help getting into some dry clothes and my go-bag. Can you help me with that?”

Peter was scrambling for the owner’s suite before she even finished the question.

He came back with a dry pink caftan (had she just bought the same thing in multiple colors?), the matching cushioned slippers, and a stuffed overnight bag.

“Oh, there should be one in the nursery, as well,” Sharon said, accepting the dry clothing. “Sorry, my mind is everywhere at the moment.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Tony will be here soon and everything will be great,” Peter said. He left off for the nursery and found the bag waiting on the rocking chair next to the bay window.

When he came back Sharon was still in the soaked gown and clutching her back.

“Can you help me, please?”

He blushed but nodded.

Painfully embarrassed, Peter helped Sharon pull off the yellow caftan and slip on the pink. He could have died when she asked about dry undergarments, but he raced up and back to blindly grab a pair. He kept his eyes averted as he helped her out of the ruined pair and into the dry.

“Are you going to make it?” She asked, once she was decent.

Still blushing, he nodded. “Yes, but let’s maybe not tell Stephen about this?”

“I promise you, he won’t care, but yes, this can stay between us.” She chuckled and then winced, gripping her side.

Tony needed to get here now, he thought.

He wished Stephen was here, too.

What on earth could be more important than this?

The drive to the state of Middle California was uneventful, even with stopping at a shopping center, making a ridiculous few purchases, and swapping vehicles. He'd have to ask Sharon if spy-work was always so boring. He had a feeling the answer was yes.

He drove to a sleepy little suburban block, pulling up to a neat little ranch style brick house with white shutters and a tidy lawn. He parked behind the serviceable Bel Air and kept a pleasant smile on his face when a pretty woman answered the door.

Her honey brown hair was pulled away from her face with a head band that matched the lacy apron she wore over her pink and white gingham dress.

"Vinnie! We're so glad you could make it," she greeted. "Come on in, Rusty is in the kitchen."

Vinnie?

Bemused, he let her urge him inside, noting the secure click of the door lock behind him.

"You even get mail here?" he asked, noticing the bundle in her hand.

The woman rolled her eyes. "My partner enjoys coming up with his covers," she said, the advert-ready smile fading into something more natural as he led him back to the kitchen. A man sat at the table, a laptop in front of him. "I'm SSA Bobbi Morse but the people around here know me as Katelin Frayer, homemaker and shuffleboard enthusiast."

Stephen did smile at that.

"I take it you're Rusty?" he asked the man.

"Rusty Peltzer," he said. He wore a mechanic's jumpsuit that had oil stains in several places and sturdy black boots that had Stephen wincing in sympathy for the carpet if he didn't bother taking them off before walking in the rest of the house. Peter would probably murder him if he ever tried something like that - especially in their dining room. "Otherwise known as SSA Lance Hunter."

Stephen glanced around the kitchen. "Not a bad set-up, I'm assuming."

Lance shrugged. "It's suiting our purposes for the time being," he said. "And given our CO's attachment to this case they've sprung for just about anything we could need."

"Carter mentioned something about that," he said.

"How is Sharon?" Bobbi asked. "I miss going on missions with her. It's hard to believe I'll be retired just like her in a couple of years."

"She's glowing," he said. Sure, these agents knew her, but he wasn't going to give them specifics. Doctor-Patient confidentiality and all.

Lance snorted. "She's probably been ready to pop the tyke out since she got up the duff."

Well, the man wasn't wrong about that. (Did Sharon and Peter think they were the only two people making cross-country mobile calls? He'd talked with Tony plenty.)

"That kid is going to be something the world isn't ready for," Bobbi said. "A Stark is one thing, but adding in Sharon's genetics?" She shook her head with a fond smile.

"Probably," Lance agreed. He shut the laptop and focused on Stephen. "So, we have a civilian in our base that apparently wants a meeting with one of the CSB's most wanted. Why? Why should we trust you?"

"Sharon vouched for him," Bobbi reminded Lance.

"Sure, but why? Why do you care what the CSB does with Quentin Beck?"

"Back in August I selected a spouse through the BCSS," Stephen started.

"And we're happy for you," Lance cut in.

"My spouse was only with the BCSS because he was targeted by Beck and lost everything. Beck ruined his life. I suppose I want to ask the man why."

"I can tell you why. The man's a psychopath," Lance said flippantly.

"We can let you talk to him, but you can't hurt him," Bobbi said. "And we're not leaving you alone with him, either."

"He's just going to lie," Lance told Stephen. "He's damn good at it."

Stephen pulled out a small leather case from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Bobbi.

"I'm not worried about him lying."

Bobbi opened the case and her eyes went wide. "Well damn, Doc."

Curious, Lance stood so he could peer at the contents of the case. "I suppose it takes all kinds," he said.

It surprised the hell out of Peter that Tony was so calm.

The man had arrived and driven the three of them not to a hospital like he'd been expecting, but a birthing center. Sharon was shown to a suite that was a mix of something out of a science fiction comic and one of those Graceful Housekeeping magazines his Aunt May used to read.

"No hospital?" he asked Tony as a nurse got Sharon settled.

Tony shook his head. "We did all the research and Sharon's obstetrician has attending privileges here. They focus on the mother, not just the baby." He smiled. "And Stephen already gave his seal of approval, even though he trusts Sharon's doctor implicitly."

Peter nodded. "Sorry, I just, I don't know... I've been worried. I'm not trying to be a pain."

"You're not a pain and honestly, it's kind of nice that I'm not the frazzled one. I know I've been driving Sharon nuts with all of my plans and contingencies but now that we're finally here I'm actually steady."

Peter snorted. "You're not the one who has to do all the hard work."

"Oh, and she'll never let me forget it, I'm sure," Tony agreed. He clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Thanks for taking care of her today. It means more to me than I can say."

“She’d do the same for me,” Peter said.

The nurse called Tony back to the alcove where Sharon was resting on the maternity bed and after choosing a selection from the bookcase's offerings, Peter took a seat in one of the suite's recliners. He wasn't sure just how interesting Foundation would be, but it had to be a better read than Prenatal Perineal Secrets: How to Stretch for Success.

He wasn't sure just what his part in today would be but he figured if either of them needed coffee or a listening ear, he could provide that.

Bobbi led him down to the basement where in a locked room, sat the man who'd unknowingly changed Stephen's life.

Quentin Beck was about what he was expecting. Although he was bound to the steel chair Stephen could tell that the man was tall. Even though his dark hair was in need of a wash and his beard a good trim, it was easy to see how others would find him handsome and charming. His eyes, though... Beck's eyes weren't right.

"A visitor!" the man said with false cheer. "And here I thought this place didn't have all the amenities." He looked to Morse. "I'm not interested in talking."

"You don't have a choice," she said.

"And who are you?" Beck asked, sneering. "And why should I talk to you?"

"My name is Dr. Stephen Strange. I'm married to Peter Parker."

"Oh, a doctor?," Beck drawled. "My word, little Petey really did land on his feet, didn't he? I wondered just where he'd disappeared off to. I'd been hoping I could track him back down once all of this is over."

Stephen didn't like the sound of that at all. Beck would never get near Peter again.

"He has a good life now," Stephen said. "Unlike what you're going to have."

"Keep telling yourself that," Beck said with a snort. "I have friends in high places."

Bobbi let out a laugh. "Is that what you think? You're going into a deep, dark hole and never coming back out."

"She's right," Lance said, coming down the stairs to join them.

"We'll see." The man shrugged as much as his bindings allowed and focused his attention back on Stephen. "So, go ahead and ask me what you want to ask."

"Why Peter? Why target someone who was all but broke?"

Beck laughed. "Are you joking? That kid was worth millions and would have been worth so much more. That organic bandage that he talked about in his paper on wound care was going to change everything - I saw the scars from where he tested it on himself. It wasn't just a theory. But he never wrote the damn formula down. I tried everything I could think of to get him to part with it - I even tried to seduce him. The damned brat was just too damned stubborn and insistent on waiting for that special someone. So, I cut my losses and took his money instead: his aunt's life insurance payout and the keys to access his parents' five million dollar CSB payouts when the time came."

All of what Beck said caught Stephen's attention but he focused on the last part. "His parents weren't agents," he said. They'd been administrative workers, according to Peter's profile. Sure, there would have been life insurance but millions?

Beck snorted. "The CSB likes to give its agents cover stories, but Richard and Mary Parker were operatives. They didn't just happen to be on the bridge when it collapsed. The bridge collapsed because those two were on it. And they'd directed that money the CSB pays out to their son couldn't be accessed until he was twenty-one. So I took that information and figured I'd give it a few years. It's not like he could keep it now, even when he does turn twenty-one, considering he's a selected spouse." Beck smirked. "They don't get many rights, those spouses of yours."

Beck reclined as much as he was able, secured to the chair. "He did pretty well for himself, all things considered. He married a surgeon! All he has to do is tolerate you for a year then he’s free! But who knows, maybe he'll be desperate enough to stay."

Stephen's blood boiled, which was an odd feeling considering his cold fury.

He slowly stood and shrugged out of his blazer. Folding it neatly, he draped it over his chair, removed his tie, and began to unbutton his sleeves.

"Oh, you're going to hit me?" Beck taunted. "Whatever happened to 'do no harm'?"

"Every doctor interprets their oath in their own way. For me personally... We're in Middle California. My license isn't valid here so for all intents and purposes, I'm not a doctor at the moment."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Beck said, though there was something like fear in his eyes. "Do you really think he's worth doing this for?"

Stephen withdrew the syringe and vial from the case he’d tucked in his jacket pocket. He prepped the needle with the contents of the vial. After eying it carefully he gently flicked the glass to remove any bubbles. "My husband is worth everything."

Beck started to struggle in his restraints as Stephen approached him. Bobbi and Lance held him still.

"Now, I haven't had to worry about injecting anything since my residency days, but I'd imagine it's like riding a bicycle."

"What the hell is in that?" Beck demanded, eyes even more crazed.

"Sodium piothental," Stephen said. "With a dash of midazolam. Both are safe in controlled doses under the careful eye of a professional." He pushed up the sleeve of the t-shirt Beck wore. "But as we've discussed... I'm not a doctor at the moment." He squeezed the muscle, holding the skin taut and injected the contents of the syringe.

Beck looked wildly between Lance and Bobbi. "What the hell?"

"It's crazy how some detainees will do anything to get a fix," Lance said to Bobbi, ignoring Beck.

"Absolutely tragic," Bobbi deadpanned.

Stephen tucked the syringe and vial back in the case then made a show of checking his watch. "We'll give it a few minutes." He looked at the agents. "Is there anything to drink in this place?"

Bobbi perked up. "Oh! I make the best lemonade. Come on up!"

Lance rolled his eyes but nodded. "She really does."

The three went upstairs, ignoring Beck's shouts and cursing.

Peter had been in a visitor’s waiting room for a few hours. He’d picked up another book to read (an absolutely terrible slice-of-life romance) and kept to himself. Once he’d gone to grab coffee and a snack for Tony, promising Sharon he’d bring her all the food she could stand once the nurses cleared it.

At one point Tony came outside to update him on her progress before returning to Sharon's side.

Mostly, Peter was just alone.

He sent another message to Stephen letting him know that they were at the birthing center and that Sharon was in labor.

There was no response.

Peter finished the book and selected another. He was halfway through before Tony called him back in.

Tony was beaming while Sharon was sitting up in the bed, looking exhausted but radiant. Under a rose pink blanket, she held a dark haired infant against her bare chest.

They introduced their daughter to Peter.

“Oh, wow,” Peter breathed out. “She’s amazing.”

“Yes, she is,” Tony agreed, gaze intent on the sight of his wife and baby.

Sharon looked up at Tony. “I want that burger.”

Peter laughed. “You two stay here and I’ll order you both some food, okay?”

“Grab something for yourself, too,” Tony said. “Have them charge it to the room.”

Peter did just that, ordering two cheeseburgers with sweet potato fries, side Cardini salads, and slices of chocolate cake for the parents along with a grilled cheese and cup of tomato soup for himself.

The lady in the cafeteria, Beth, laughed when she got the order. “It’s always fun to see what meals the new mothers first order once they’re free to eat what they want again!”

Peter grinned. “She only asked for the burger but I figured she deserved some cake as well.”

Beth nodded. “Yes, she definitely does. We’ll have everything delivered to suite twelve when it’s ready.”

Peter thanked her and went back to the suite. He checked his watch and sighed. It was nearly seven in the evening. Still no word from Stephen.

Peter let Tony and Sharon know that their food would be delivered and returned to his station in the waiting room. The obstetrician was in with the small family and Peter didn't want to be in the way.

The drive back to the mid point passed him by as if he wasn't really there. His mind was turning over what he'd learned out of Beck once he'd gone back downstairs to question the man... with some assistance from Bobbi and Lance.

Outside of the injection, he hadn't laid a hand on the man, no matter how desperately he'd wanted to throttle him until all life left the crazed blue eyes. Instead, the agents overseeing his temporary captivity used some of their tricks to encourage the sharing of information. It had been unsettling to be party to and at one point he'd had to stop himself from returning upstairs to vomit.

But he had the information he needed and Bobbi and Lance had promised they'd retrieve the data keys that Beck had stolen and send them on to Stephen.

”That kid was worth millions and would have been worth so much more.” ”The damned brat was just too damned stubborn and insistent on waiting for that special someone.”

“My husband is worth everything.”

Those were the most honest words he’d ever spoke.

Stephen parked at the same shopping center, returned his purchases, and left in the car he'd swapped out that morning. His mobile had a score of messages, most from Tony letting him know that Sharon was the birthing center... Sharon was in labor... asking how he was supposed to handle this... marveling at how strong Sharon was... no, wait, she was angry at him and telling him he could never touch her again... Sharon had had the baby. His messages ended with "Come and meet your goddaughter."

Glad the cloak-and-dagger bit was over, Stephen did just that.

He'd figure out what to do with what he'd learned later.

When he arrived at the birthing center, Peter was curled up in one of the guest recliners, fast asleep.

"He's had a long day," Tony said fondly, embracing him. "But we were so glad to have him around. He really helped Sharon out this morning."

Stephen looked over at his sleeping husband. "He's pretty wonderful like that."

Tony clapped a hand on Stephen's shoulder. "Come and meet her."

He followed Tony back to where Sharon sat up in her bed holding the baby in her arms.

"Did you get what you needed?" Sharon asked.

He nodded. "Yes, but there are far more important things to discuss at the moment," he said. "Who is this little lady?"

Sharon smiled and motioned him closer. "Meet Jamie," she said, handing him the swaddled infant.

"Jamie?"

Tony grinned proudly. "Stephanie James Stark."

Stephen tried the name out. "It's perfect," he said.

"Just like Jamie," Sharon agreed. "We figured who better to honor than her two godfathers?"

"Rhodey will be here next week; unfortunately he can't just abandon mission and come straight here. It's frowned upon or treasonous or something."

"Or something," Stephen said quietly. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was just so little. Her eyes were scrunched tight and she let out a yawn. "She's beautiful," he whispered.

"Well, she takes after me, so of course she is," Tony said. "I'll have her building circuit boards in no time."

"Or learning the names of every bone in the body," Stephen suggested.

"Or she'll be doing whatever makes her happy and the two of you will just have to deal with it." Stephen glanced at Sharon, who was looking at him and Tony as if she were entirely unimpressed.

"Or that," Tony agreed easily. He checked his watch. "It's late. You should wake Peter and head back to the mansion. We have some check-ins with the obstetrician and pediatrician in the morning but we'll be up for visitors in the afternoon."

That sounded perfect. He carefully handed the sleeping Jamie over to Sharon. "I'm so happy for you two."

-------

[genderkoolaid]

Hey. I'm not really sure who to ask about this, but I've seen your advice/responses before and they've been pretty good so here it goes.

I need to sleep. The only issue is that I'm extremely dysphoric right now and if I take off my binder I will have a massive panic attack/meltdown and none of my shirts will feel right and it'll send me into a spiral. And I can't sleep with my binder on. I have no idea if you have any advice on what to do but yeah. If you do, it would be appreciated.

I'm really freaked out rn and close to tears. Help?

So, you could wear a (properly sized) sports bra, which afaik is less harmful than a binder to sleep in. I don't know how well that would do with your dysphoria, though. If there's sleep medicine you could take, it might help you be able cope with dysphoria/sensations and fall asleep in spite of them.

Worst comes to worse, if its just a night- I have slept in a binder before on accident a few times. Its not good for you by any means, but you need to sleep. Being sleep deprived it also probably not helpful in coping with dysphoria or sensory issues, so it might be overall better to sleep in it and try and work through things when you are at least better rested.

On a more long-term level, I think it might be helpful to look into transtape as a potential binding alternative. It doesn't compress your ribs, which means you can sleep in it (it can stay on for a while). It has its own downsides and has a tedious removal process, but if this is a reoccurring issue, it could be useful to look into to have something you can sleep in without using a binder.

[squidthechaotickid]

Made a lmk sona/oc finally >:] Their name is Void and they r so very silly 2 me <33

Dropping their backstory + info under the readmore

Okay so. Mk was having a nice time in his apartment, having a wonderful dream bc he was asleep, when he was woken up by a sudden CRASH. He woke up, looked at the weird shadow clone of himself, took a deep breath, and decided to lay back down for a few minutes. Meanwhile the shadow clone is still messing wt his stuff.

Finally, he gets up, drags the clone down to Pigsy's, and calls Monkie King. The clone kinda just sits there while Mk and Monkie King (who was there in like 5 seconds) start debating what to do. Monkie King suggests getting Macaque (who's name the clone repeats) and Mk agrees (much to Pigsy's dismay, but hey, it's either that or let the weird clone hang around.)

Wukong went off to find Macaque while Mk started to mess around with the clone. It kept repeating random words and copying several of his actions. Piggy thought he should leave it alone but Mk ignored him.

After like 20 minutes, Macaque, already knowing abt the clone (he saw it while shadow traveling and thought it was weird,) came in with Wukong and was basically like "I have no clue what that is but it's definitely some sort of shadow thing. Mk did you accidentally make a shadow clone bc that's my thing usually not Wukong's.

Mk confirmed he didn't, and they started to debate what it was. Somehow, Macaque and Wukong started fighting, and Mk tried to calm things down. The more upset Mk got, the more agitated the clone got, with only Pigsy noticing. He only managed to get their attention after the clone began to screech, before dipping into the shadows and disappearing.

Everyone began to panic, except Macaque, who quickly followed and found the clone close by, outside in an alley. He tried to bring it back inside but it instead began to fight, summoning its own shadow version of Mk's staff.

The others rushed out at the noise, and the fight began. The clone kept targeting Monkie King and Macaque, while completely avoiding Mk. Finally, the fight ends after the clone dips into the shadows one too many times, and begins to "dissolve." They leave, leaving the gang to wonder what that even was.

After several months and other, more pressing issues (aka multiple demon attacks,) they mostly forgot about the clone. Until, one day, a kid looking oddly like Mk walks into Pigsy's. They introduce themself as Void, Mk's shadow. They explained that they weren't exactly sure what they were, just that they were born from the shadows, and was specifically connected to Mk, as they could feel certain bits of what he felt. (Both physical pain and emotional pain)

They explained that they had spent months watching and learning from the world, teaching themself to speak and changing their appearance so they were no longer a clone, and instead their own person. They apologized for the previous fight, stating that Mk getting upset had filtered to them, and they didn't know how to cope with the sudden emotion, as they'd never felt anything like it, being born literally an hour before.

Mk was ecstatic, and decided to drag them around town so they could experience it outside of the shadows, also inviting Mei. The trip went mostly okay, though Void did have to stop the trip early because they were getting overwhelmed by the new sensations. They became friends with the others, and Void now shows up every once in a while to help or just to visit.

Other facts, now that I'm done wt the backstory lmao.

They can't shadow travel for long or often. It's kinda like a drop of water in the sea; they're a shadow, and if they stay too long, the shadows will consume them and make them a part of it yet again.

that's why they started to dissolve after the traveling too many times during the fight.

That being said, they still have to every once in a while. They'll feel sick if they don't.

While the sun doesn't harm them, it will make them feel exhausted after a bit.

They feel everything Mk feels, though not as extreme, and they can usually tell which are his and which are theirs.

That being said, when Mk had the whole thing with his monkie form? They couldn't control their own form, it was terrifying. They were lucky they were alone in a forest outside the city at the time, because they were completely out of it.

They based their look off of various things they found in the city, such as clothes they saw in stores or colors they saw that looked nice. They kept Mk's headband and based their hair partially on Macaque and Wukong's.

They can't change their base form in any way Mk can't. They ended out wearing a binder, just like Mk does.

They don't know what a gender is.

They have an identity crisis every other week.

They keep trying to separate themself from Mk, but demons keep mistaking the two and it really doesn't help the identity thing.

When they were first learning to speak, they stuttered over words and spoke formal. As they got used to speaking, they became more leaned back and used more slang.

[superdumbfan]

I've been up for hours. I have always had the sensory issues but it wasn't until I got out of my dad's abusive house that they really hit me and now I'm up right now literally coughing up loogies that are pink from blood and fighting the urge to literally claw my skin off. It sounds like some edgy thing some kid would have put here on Tumblr in 2008. I hate everything I want to die it sucks so fucking bad. I clean and clean and clean off my bed before laying on it I make my bed I make sure everything is to a tee. And no matter how many fucking time to do with the bed still has something on it it could be as clean as marble and it's still feels like I'm laying in the fucking desert. Always starts off feeling like I'm laying on Sand then it gets itchy to the point that it's unbearable and I just want to claw my skin off and it hurts it stops being itchy and just straight up hurts. I am so tired and I'm just crying Non-Stop and I can't even stop myself from crying and it sucks. I'm tired I'm always you never feeling comfortable in my own skin in a literal way not metaphorical not oh I look in the mirror and I'm ugly literally feeling uncomfortable in my skin I want to be skin I would pay for someone to find a way to live without skin. This is literal agony and it's always hits me when I'm vulnerable. It never hits me in the middle of the day when I'm just chilling relaxing it's always when I'm trying to go to sleep or do something important it's always in the middle of a test or some other bull like that. It's always there I don't know what I did I'm not a good person I know I haven't taken it. And no matter how much I look stuff up we can't find any way to fix this I don't have money to buy a weighted blanket. And my next therapy appointment in this until Wednesday. Sometimes I think if I didn't make a promise that I made my mom I probably be dead. I just said melatonin and I'm hoping that I've been to just get worn out from crying and fall asleep. But it sucks that I even have to do that I want to be a normal person so waiting to sit on my bed and go to sleep. No crying no tantrum no painful itching sensation no need to literally sit as still as possible just hope that it can fall asleep without literally crying so hard that I can't speak anymore.

I just want to be "normal" person i feel bad I don't want to be neurodivergent. I want to be able to do things normally without my brain trying to punish me. This is like living hell. And it's so much worse cuz I never never the problem when I'm like distracted throughout the day I sit on the same bed all day and watch TV and do other things I work on my bed because it's the only thing I have and there's no problem the second that I actually got to go to sleep it's like oh no now your bed is made out of needles and sand and bugs. If I didn't promise my mom I wouldn't kill myself I probably do that right now. I hate everything I hate this I'm going to sleep so badly I'm literally writing this while crying and so tired that I could fall asleep but my body won't let me I'm so so tired this isn't fair.

Please please please please please please if anyone knows anything that can help please tell me I am literally having panic attacks and I can't do this. I am on the verge of just scratching all my skin off Jesus Christ and I don't even know why my brain would act like this why am I so faulty that my brain actively makes my life worse what is the possible reason that my brain would act like this

[iloveschiaparelli]

Something that happens to me a lot is I just disappear from social media/social circles (go "off the radar") for several days/weeks at a time. I'm not talking about like instagram or tumblr I mean like snapchat, which is already only close friends, and I start missing friend hangouts/church all the time. Instead I stay active on youtube/tumblr/webtoon doomscrolling or reading copious amounts of comics. The reason is just that I get overly exhausted and can't handle the demands of social interaction, or my health tanks from exhaustion and I start missing hangouts because I'm at home asleep even though its 3 in the afternoon. My bones hurt. I feel icky and my stomach feels like I'm about 3 steps removed from throwing up.

This then leads to greater emotional distress, that being severe discontent with the state of my body, but since i lack the energy to correct it through activity, I'm instead trapped in a sensation of hopelessness and depression that additionally suppresses my appetite. It's a cycle of tiredness, not eating, getting more tired, eating even less. Before you know it, consuming any type of food gives me GI issues and now I'm avoiding all sorts of foods, which then in turn lessens nutrition. It's a mess! Anyway, all this just leads to huge amounts of exhaustion and my body not functioning the way it's intended to (on any sort of schedule), so I'm spending a disproportionate amount of time awake at night and asleep during the day.

Being on the radar reveals your waking hours: through posting times, message times, pictures, etc. And it's embarrassing to admit to people, especially those I'm not especially close with, just how screwed up my body is and my life and schedule. In addition, being exhausted and having irregular sleep ruins any type of posting schedule, streaks, etc. So I end up going off-radar. Nobody has any idea what I'm going through (except my roommates) because I have become invisible. But then I also miss huge events and disappear from other people's lives: I'm not just off-radar, I'm withdrawn, which leads to atrophy in friendships. It doesn't help that right now, for the summer, a lot of the regular hangouts I would normally go to like D&D and Wing Chun are either not meeting or I'm taking a break because, in the case of Wing Chun at least, the best times to doordash are coincidentally also the class times, and I have to prioritize making money to survive (I only came up $175 short this month! That's really good, I thought I was gonna be way more screwed. My mom is helping me cover the difference so that's good.)

Anyway, so all this combined means that when I finally have enough energy to interact with those friends again, they're way behind on my life events and I'm way behind on theirs. You know how hard it is to be at someone's wedding and have that be the time you tell your friend that you got dumped a month earlier???? Ummm it was super awkward..... but because the conversation had turned that way, I couldn't avoid letting it on. Thankfully that friend respected my wishes to keep it on the down-low for the rest of the day (I didn't want to affect the vibes at the wedding. Which ended up being fantastic btw.) But now, because I'm still really off-radar, me and that friend promised to talk about it later, but it's been nearly a month and we haven't spoken a word to each other.

Anyway, just a little rant(?) about how exhaustion/chronic issues can lead to unintentional social withdrawal.

[i-dont-dream-like-you-do]

Let’s talk about Pain.

Content warnings: descriptions of pain and dying. Heavy discussion of dreams, reality confusion, and sleep issues.

Pain happens often enough in my dreams that it’s left a lasting impression on me, both psychologically and physically. I’ve had dreams where my feet are electrocuted, all the blood is forced from my body by extreme g-forces, and I once vividly experienced what it was like to drown in icy mud. Of course, these are not the only ways in which I have experienced pain in dreams; they are just the most memorable ones because they have left “ghost pains” in my body upon waking up. And those are always wild.

Post-Dream "Ghost Pains"

When I woke up from that one dream of my feet being electrocuted (I was a penguin swimming through some underwater air vents, and apparently they had anti-penguin shock security inside?), I had to rub my feet and stomp them to prove to my body that they were not currently on fire or being actively charred to smithereens. No, I am not describing here the sensation of “limbs falling asleep.” I know what that feels like (see Pain Outside of Dreams below), and this was not that.

For all intents and purposes, my feet worked just fine, moved around, and could sense things when touched. It was not numb, nor tingly, nor itchy, nor any other physical descriptor I could put there beyond “normal.” It was simply as if my brain was convinced we had just taken severe damage, and in its post-wake panic, it couldn’t tell the dream sensation apart from the real one for several minutes afterward. It truly felt like it had just been electrocuted, shocked with a million volts and left to fry.

And the ghost pains do hurt. They hurt like any injury you know you have sustained hurts. It’s not just discomfort—it is pain, and it takes a long time to get my brain convinced again that I'm just fine. It is very hard to go from knowing you’ve got, for example, a gaping wound in your leg to seeing that your leg is actually fine, especially in the first few minutes of typical reality confusion that persists after just waking up.

Sustaining Pain Within Dreams

These are less common for me to pull examples from. My theory is that it's because if it's enough pain for me to notice it, then I wake up, I don't endure it. (I am very fortunate to not ever have had the experience of sleep paralysis. Considering the kind of dreams I get...I literally cannot imagine the trauma.)

I guess the closest thing that I have to feeling pain at length while dreaming is when I am trying to fly (I can almost always fly in dreams) and gravity is too heavy on me, pulling me down, sucking me closer to the ground where danger waits impatiently for me to swoop down too low so it can catch me. That kind of pain is the one that pulls on me from the inside, tugging on my bones. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I know it feels very similar to the feeling I get when I wear a heavy winter glove in real life and shake my hand around a bit. It’s pain, but it comes from, like…inside. Like it’s a very wrong feeling. Like gravity has just been inverted, and you’ve got to get the hell out of it now.

Pain Outside of Dreams

I can't recall a time where a pain I have felt in a dream has ever translated to an actual, real-world injury. Even though I apparently squirm like an octopus and scream bloody murder while sleeping, I don't have any recollection of a dream having made me bang an arm or a leg into a hard surface, resulting in a bruise or some other injury. I occasionally wake up with a very deadened limb that's fallen asleep--the process of waking it back up again is always excruciating--but I don't dream about having a heavy limb before I wake up, you see? The waking world's pains seem to be distinctly separate from my dreaming world's pains!

Masterlist of Pains I Have Felt In Dreams

Breathed in noxious acid (for "years," apparently)

Felt the classic tink! of a scooter swinging around and hitting me in the shin

Rug burns from running on hot asphalt

Being slingshotted so fast that the g-forces forced all my blood out of my body

Drowned in icy, freezing mud

Got my feet electrocuted

Been strangled, grabbed at, hit, and clawed

Been eaten alive many times

There are probably more, but I’ll either add to the list when I remember them / they happen, or I’ll forget to, lol.

---

So...like...does this happen to anyone else? What kinda phantom pains have you gotten from dreams?

[to-myalphonse]

"I will never be good enough for you will I?"

Wanderee X Reader Angst

Wanderer is still called Scaramouche

Event : Farewell love @versadies event

I'm cutting it really close with this last fic lol.

I took me awhile to write this hence why I'm posting it late.

[Spoiler: 3.2 mentions]

Haypasia mentions, misunderstandings, arguing, implied reader death

"Apologize !" He yells holding a broken plate. As your eyes met you saw his unbridled anger focusing on its next target.

Instead of hesitating, you sigh calmly explaining your point." All I'm saying is if she were a better mother, you wouldn't be as hurt as your are now." You quickly dodge the upcoming object.

"She's not my mother." He spat now riled up. He glares down at you holding another object to throw.

"You can't deny that she cre-." You were suddenly hit by the flying object not dodging quick enough.

"Shut up!" Your mouth falls silent at his demand. As you tried to blink into focus, Scaramouche quickly approaches you.

You felt your collar be pulled down. "What do you know about being abandoned huh?" You felt his tiny hands grip your collar tighter slowly constricting your airflow.

"Ei decided I wasn't good enough! Do you know how it feels? No you don't, because your family has always cared about you." 

He pushed you away roughly as he exits the room. Hearing the door slam causes a frown to appear.

You were just trying to help him through his trauma like Nahida said to do. You go through the doctor notes that Nahida wrote down for him.

Patient: Kunikuzushi

Info: Has trauma from Electro Archon

Separation anxiety 

Familial trust issues

Abandonment issues

Mother issues (patient reacts negative to mentions of Beelzebul)

Fatui (patient reacts negative to Inazuma)

Reacts kindly to Haypasia.

You pocket the list as you climb to your feet.You should apologize to Scaramouche for bringing up such an uncomfortable topic.

After a few hours, you had everything prepared. You made his favorite Inazuman cuisine, you got him small snacks you knew he would love. All that was missing was the doll himself.

As you waited by the door your vision began to get foggy. Going to the restroom, you noticed the redness and swelling around the eye that was hit from the object. 

Instead of putting ice on it to fix the swelling, you decided to put make up over it to look more presentable, when finished you  heard the front door open.

Rushing out of the restroom, you see Scaramouche with a teal haired woman in tow.

"Scaramouche?" He stops conversation with her facing you. The smile on his face fell as quickly as he entered.

"Oh? You're still here." He deadpan wrapping an arm around the teal haired woman.

"Who is she, honey?" You ask sweetly only to be ignored. Him and the teal haired woman venture further into your house entering your shared bedroom,closing the door.

You feel a burning sensation envelop, as you gasp for air. Your vision blurs as you fall to the ground in shock. 

You thought you were good enough. You listened to his problems and did your best to comfort him through the hard times.

So then, why would he replace you with her?

The struggle to maintain staying awake fails as your thoughts come to a conclusion

You will never be good enough for Scaramouche will you?

Wanderer exited the room smugly. As he entered the room where you were last seen he saw your limp form laid out on the floor. He rolls his eyes, bending down to poke your figure.

"Jokes over, wake up Y/N." He pokes again to no response.

This was kinda strewn together when I was half asleep. Hope you enjoyed this lil one shot I didn't edit.

Taglist: @teyvattales @pochipop @hikomisan @leftdestiny-posts [If you want to be taken off the tag list lmk]