#otherwise!! uh period cw i guess

[cinnaminsvga]

When I flew to Korea. My biggest fear was starting my cycle right there on the plane🤣 cause it was due and a little late. Shout out to irregular cycles~ kidding kind of. Also mainly because the week before my flight I saw a video where the girl talked about how it suddenly happened mid flight the day she was traveling and it unlocked a new fear for me.

It waited til I entered my apartment in korea like within an hour I just was like oh no. Thank whoever was watching over me and was giving me good luck that day, and it also happened before the dinner I had to go to while I was still in the apartment. And also thankful @ myself that I packed like a 6 month supply for no reason other than just in case💀

Also sorry for the overshare I saw you got it in Japan while crouching to look at something lmao. And it activated that fear of it happening on a plane thought. I hope you got to handle that quickly or had something on you were close by so you didn’t have to tough it out. Also do you like pack let’s say your going somewhere for a week or two but you pack like 3 months of underwear you know incase you shit yourself 3 times a day every day for those two weeks and change your underwear 5 times a day for some unknown reason🤣 not that you would or that it’s ever happened but just incase that’s the one time it does. Or am I insane. It’ll be like 2 jeans 1 shorts and like 7 shirts. And pjs. But 3 months of undies and socks and period stuff)

[cont.] Can’t believe I talked about periods and shitting yourself hypothetically all in the same ask I’m so sorry🤣 My brain just caught up to that ask I just sent💀

period talk under the cut because we're bloody bitches 🌊🩸

whenever my cycle is coming up, i'll usually wear a panty liner at least two days before it's supposed to start... if the anxiety is bad (e.g. before a big flight or any event where i cant change undies) then i might even wear a whole ass pad a few days before it starts lol

lucky you that your period started before leaving your apartment HAKSDJKAS ive had experiences where im at lengthy dinner parties with no extra pads in my bag and just had to Suffer (hence why i wear dark pants most of the time... but have i started to bring pads in my bag? who can say...) but during my Squatting Incident™️, i was not close to my hotel so i was actually forced to Tough It Out for at least five more hours... it was pain, but i also got to buy an animal crossing cup for my troubles so i suppose it wasnt too bad... but the horrors... at least it didnt permanently stain my clothes 💀

i also do tend to pack a lot of pads when i travel around when my cycle starts because i do not trust international feminine products HKASDJKAS nothing against them but when youre at your lowest (i.e. your period), sometimes a little bit of home can help you a long way... I WILL SAY THO that my last period when i was in japan was unexpectedly stronger than usual... hence the whole squatting blood flood that triggered this entire conversation LMAO but yeah i ran out of pads and had to grab some from family mart... also i dont know japanese so i guess i grabbed the night time pads bc man those pads were like DIAPERS... covered my whole ass but it was thin enough that i didnt look like i was shitting my pants or smth lol

as for clothes... yes i do that thing too LMAOOO underwear is just touching WAY TOO MANY potentially disastrous areas that having extras is a necessity... i do admit though that in my past couple of travels, i have been packing more savvy than my usual anxious self... MINUS THE JAPAN TRIP BECAUSE AGAIN FOR SOME REASON I DECIDED TO PACK LIGHT??? so yeah i had to do my laundry once during the trip but that was my first time ever underpacking underwear (wow an assonance) and i had to google comprehensive steps on how to operate japanese washing machines because my social anxiety forbids me from Fumbling in Public because i think i'll be executed

anyway. i know none of you are reading all that. so tldr... ive been menstruating for years and yet somehow i am not an expert. what are the odds!!!

[ciaran]

cw: discussions of childhood trauma, child abuse, eating disorders, and suicide.

i dont think brad and luida were perfect, or even exemplary, caretakers for vash. this is partially a perspective rooted in theories about trauma (especially childhood trauma) -- but like, clearly they imprison him for months. he's a young child fresh from an incredibly traumatic event that he feels personally responsible for. he has no family, his brother used him and hurt him, his adopted mother is dead, and he wants to die. and his first experience with humans is, functionally, them going "uh i guess you might be okay but we don't quite trust you, there's just something about you that means we have to keep you right here in this one room and not let you leave" and vash just accepts this. he's too tired, and he hates himself too much, to question it, and in some ways it must make sense to him bc he did do something terrible, so they shouldn't trust him.

and then, whether intentionally or not, luida ties his worth to his ability to be useful. "there has to be something only you can do," she says, and that would maybe work if vash's problems started and ended with feeling useless, but they don't. there's so much more going on. he's called monstrous by the other humans on ship three; he sees himself as monstrous already. the only reason he can't kill himself is because he's being monitored and also because he's handcuffed, like, constantly at this point. he spends well over 4 months in what is basically solitary confinement -- a period of time and a tactic that would break any adult, so what does it do to an already-broken child? especially one that's implied to have been starving himself for the entire duration of his imprisonment.

they only start actually trusting him as a person when he proves useful to them, when he saves the plant. his decision to start eating again and his freedom/official residence on ship three are connected directly to his ability to be useful, and this is the path vash will follow for the next few decades -- seeing his value to people as measured in what he can do for them, and otherwise seeing himself as someone whose existence is fundamentally at odds with other people's peace/security/happiness. brad was vocal about not trusting him, and even if vash doesn't seem to harbor any ill feelings towards him for this (and i would bet that vash doesn't, in fact, feel that this was wrong of brad to do), it's still really painful! brad is initially sulky and put-off around vash and disapproving of luida's decision to trust him, even if vash grows on him eventually i can't imagine vash didn't internalize this attitude to himself to some degree or another. it takes him long-ish period (around a few years) to decide that brad does in fact like him a little.

and the whole time he's keeping this massive secret from them and it must be driving him insane. he can't talk about it because his wounds are just as fresh, but he can't talk about it because he doesn't know what they'll do when they find out. he didn't feel secure with them; even if he felt loved, and loved them back. but he couldn't be open with them, he could only do his best to be as useful and selfless as possible so that he can store up goodwill against the time when his secrets spill out. and the moment they do, he's branded a traitor immediately. luida doesn't believe it, but vash doesn't hear her say a word in his defense. he only hears brad decide that all of vash's actions by his side mean nothing in the face of one childish error of misplaced trust.

and of course, all of this does get better, in some way or another. no family is perfect; luida goes after vash, and brad makes it up to him. but...trauma doesn't go away that easily. vash doesn't return home unless he really needs to, for his arm. luida and brad decide to put themselves into cryo-sleep, leaving vash without a stable family again. in the span of time vash has lived, many relationships can be repaired -- especially if the person wronged is so eager to erase his own pain.

i've been thinking for a while about the patterns in vash's behavior, trying to trace them to a starting point. i think this is as good a place as any: even if knives was the one to lay the groundwork for vash's issues, many people since have contributed to them, adding their own influences to the guilt and self-hate vash carries around. and many of those people have, genuinely and unreservedly, loved vash and been loved by him anyway.

[smolghostbot]

A Matter of Pride

A short fragment I wrote as a vent piece, featuring my OCs, Patch and Melody. This takes place about a year after they first met, and it's been about six months since Patch moved in with Mel. There's more context in their character bios obviously but this is kind of standalone. Anyways, enjoy. Or don't. This is being posted for me, not you (/lh)

CWs: None that I can think of, this piece is very much during the fluff period of their relationship.

======

Mel yawned and stretched as they walked out of their bedroom, dressed in their pajamas. By far, the worst part of her new living situation was having to put pants on even on her days off, but considering her roommate technically lived in her kitchen, it would be a bit awkward to do otherwise.

She walked over to her counter and looked over to the power outlet that her little tinkerer had converted to a makeshift room. At Mel's insistence, they had both installed a little light outside to show if Patch was in the room, which was off at the moment. Glancing over to the clock, they realized it was already 10am, Patch was probably out on his little scavenger runs. "It's safer during work hours", he told her once, though obviously without words. Considering how much the little borrower… frankly sucked at being undetected, it made a bit of sense.

Though, they absolutely didn't understand his insistence on going out and scavenging for things in the first place. Melody had made it very clear that as long as Patch chose to live under her roof, she'd gladly give him all of the supplies he needed. They just didn't see a point in him risking his life for office supplies and fabrics when they could set him up for life with, like, thirty dollars and an afternoon at the craft store. Luckily, he agreed to let her assist with food, that being much harder for the small being to get in healthy amounts, but he refused to just accept small building materials for his little contraptions. Mel sighed, figuring it must be a matter of pride for the little one…

—

Patch returned from their trip by about midday. Finally, they had found some strong plastic buttons. With these, they could easily work on the gear system for their new pulley project, which would let them get to the floor of Melody's apartment easier. As they walked out of their little room, they flipped on the light and rang the bell by their door, to let Mel know they had arrived. These silly notifications were her idea, and made Patch feel a little bit smothered by the human's overprotective nature… but it was the least they could do to play along in exchange for the food, shelter, and companionship. Looking around, they noticed that Melody was reading on her couch, soft music coming from the TV, quiet enough to help her focus but not too loud as to drown out the possible bell indicating Patch's return.

"Hey Patch! Good morning! You probably guessed, but I'm off of work today. Did you go on a little adventure?"

As Melody walked over to communicate better with Patch, they nodded yes, although slightly annoyed at Melody belittling their work.

"Nice! What did you get?"

Patch dug through their backpack before proudly presenting the five buttons they had grabbed, as well as some loose strings and two paper clips. Mel smiled and acted impressed, although it was clear that she was just trying to support her friend.

"Oh, neat! You seem pretty proud of those, is that a rare find?"

Patch responded with a yes. Getting these involved grappling into a storage box and cutting each one off of clothes. They had tried to grab the extra buttons from shirts when they were available, but had taken a few of the main buttons from one shirt with particularly thick ones that were the perfect size for carving.

"Nice! I'm guessing those will help for the little, uh… pulley system you were working on, right?"

They nodded in confirmation, slightly glad that Mel actually remembered what they've been working on. They still weren't entirely used to people caring about their works, let alone a human.

"Well, if there's any way I can help, you know I'm around… as always! Just say the word... uh... metaphorically, of course." Mel smiled again, a bit too wide this time, as if trying to overcorrect for her little faux pas.

Patch nodded in acceptance, knowing full well that they wouldn't ask for help. They supposed it was a matter of pride for them, they wanted to prove they didn't need to rely on a human.

[raindownforme]

Salt Water

Charlie Slimecicle x reader [she/her used]

CW: negative body image, self doubt, negative self image

(Yes this is self-indulgent comfort)

“This is easy.” y/n spoke out loud to no one but herself. She stared in the mirror, turning side to side. Today was the start of summer, and her and her friends had decided to go to the beach. She’d bought the perfect bathing suit for it, too. It was a pretty blue with a dinosaur pattern. It was also a bikini.

She felt comfortable in it. She wouldn’t have bought it otherwise. She felt comfortable when she bought. She felt comfortable when she planned the whole outfit. She felt comfortable when she made the plans. She didn’t feel comfortable now.

She thought she’d grown put of this. She was an adult goddamnit. y/n wasn’t the middle-schooler who got made fun of by her trash friends, or the high schooler who thought so negatively al the time. She was an adult who bought herself the cute dinosaur bathing suit. And by god she was going to wear it.

y/n sighed, stepping back from her mirror to sit on the edge of her bed. She could do this. She knew she could. It would just be so much easier if she could stop thinking for five seconds. It was the same incomprehensible thought over and over, an onslaught of negative thoughts towards herself and her figure. Reminders of every YouTube comment on her videos, in her friends’ twitch chats, in public posts.

Maybe she shouldn’t go?

“Hey, you ready?” Someone knocked on y/n’s door and startled her. She jumped up from the bed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a large plain shirt. She shouldered her tote of necessities, slipped on her flip-flops, and opened the door. Cooper stood slouched waiting for her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” y/n walked in front of him to the car waiting. Ted sat in the drivers seat, shuffling through his playlist. Jawsh sat in the passenger seat next to him, not at all paying attention. y/n watched cooper climb into the furthest row of the car, leaving her, Charlie, and Traves to fit into the middle row. y/n held her breath as she climbed in, being forced to squeeze into the middle seat. She rested all her belongings in her lap, staring forwards through the windshield.

“Everyone packed in?” They all gave a chorus of ‘yes’ as Ted pulled out of his parking spot and to the open road. It was only 20 minutes from the beach, shorter if traffic got lucky.

The music bumped throughout the car and everyone split into different conversations. Jawsh and Ted talked about something or other, Traves and Cooper shared content on their phones, and Charlie turned to look at y/n. “I brought the boogie boards! Do you want to— what’s wrong?”

She turned to look at him, slightly surprised. “Yeah. No I’d love to boogie board.”

“Are you okay?” Charlie dropped how loud his voice was compared to everyone else. “Something seems off.”

“I’m good.” She lazily smiled at him then turned back to stare out the windshield. She liked watching the cars and buildings pass by in a blur. Charlie looked away from her and followed her line of vision. He didn’t quite understand, but he was determined to.

The group soon arrived at the beach. They quickly unpacked their full trunk and set up their seating on the beach. Ted made sure the umbrella stood upright, Traves and Cooper carried the coolers, Jawsh and y/n set out chairs and blankets, and Charlie carried the toys.

“Everyone sun screened?” Ted gestured as he tried to pass around a bottle. “y/n? I don’t want you to get cancer.”

“I’m good!” She’d already applied skin protectant before leaving the house. y/n set down her stuff and sat in the low lawn chair. She took in the sight of Cooper, Traves and Jawsh racing towards the shore, stumbling over each other in the sand. Charlie sat a few feet away from the laid out area, taking a child’s plastic shovel and beginning to dig a hole.

Ted snapped a lid to a cooler shut and cracked open his soda. He set it in the cup holder of a chair and set his glasses down on the same seat. “I’m headed to the water.”

y/n waved him off as he left. She closed her eyes, feeling herself sink into the chair. She still had on her large shirt and shorts, but they were starting to grow warm. It was hot outside, and she knew she’d be so much more comfortable in just the bathing suit she had under neath.

A shadow appeared over y/n and she opened her eyes again. Charlie stood smiling, a hand extended towards her pick her up. “Come on! Get in the water.”

“No you go ahead.” She sat up slightly, looking between her friends in the water and the boy in front of her. Charlie stayed, persistent.

“y/n get in the water. It’ll be fun!”

“Charlie you go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

He frowned, dropping his hand. “But you were so excited. You told me you bought that dinosaur suit and everything.”

y/n blushed. She didn’t remember telling him, but he was right. She likes the dinosaurs. She had wanted to go in the water this whole time. She took a breath, and stood from her seat. She slowly took off the shorts and t-shirt, placing them back in her seat. She turned to Charlie with a small smile. “Teach me to boogie board.”

“R-Right.” Charlie turned away from her a red tinge to his face. She felt discouraged almost, that Charlie of all people couldn’t look at her in a fucking bathing suit. The negative thoughts started coming back, the reminders, but she tried to kick them away. She wanted to enjoy the beach.

She followed Charlie to the shore line. He dragged behind himself two three-foot-tall boards made of foam and plastic with a tether made of coiled cord and a Velcro band. He slid the two boards into the water. The salt and sand kicked at the foam as he tied one tether around y/n’s wrist. “What are-?”

“You won’t loose it.” Charlie smiled as he talked. He glanced back up to her eyes with a smile, but quickly looked back to make sure the tether was secured to her wrist. Charlie took y/n’s hand in his, pulling her out deeper in the water until the water was just above her middle.

“Aren’t we in the breakers?”

“Yeah! This is exactly where we need to be. Okay you’re gonna hold it like this-“ Charlie got on his board, gripping the top with his hands and resting his chest towards the bottom of his board. y/n copied him, pulling the board closer than he had his. “Okay. So when the right wave comes, jump and let it take you. If it’s the right one it’ll carry you back to shore.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Try again.” y/n felt the water be sucked from beside her as the tide rolled over. She glanced to see Charlie lean further onto his board, and she did the same. “This is a good one. Ready?”

“I guess.”

y/n and Charlie jumped at the same time. She laughed as the wave swept her past her friends towards the Sandy shore. She almost made it, but at the last moment she flipped and tumbled in the water.

“Fuck!” Charlie ran over to y/n’s side. She laid on the sand, coughing lightly as she sat up. There was a track of sand down her side, and the boogie board kept bumping into her rudely. “Are you Alright? I’m really sorry.”

“How do I take this thing off?” y/n sat up, pulling at the velcro around her arm. Charlie removed it for her, tossing the board aside. He extended his hand, helping pull her up from the ground. y/n dusted the sand from her legs, and looked up watch Charlie whip his head away with a furious blush covering his cheeks.

“I�� Just unwrap the- the thing. The- that.” y/n did as instructed, and handed the boogie board over to Charlie. She watched him take the two boards back over to their beach setup. She followed him, going to sit in her beach chair and wrap a towel around herself. Charlie took a glance at her, the same red returning to his face, then walked very quickly to where some of the other boys were still in the water.

“You two good?” Cooper took a slow sip from a canned soda, glancing between Charlie and y/n.

“Yep.” She felt herself sink lower into the seat. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well- I just-“ she closed her eyes and took a breath. “I bought this stupid bathing suit cause I wanted to feel good about it and about myself and he can’t even look at me in it. I just feel stupid and ugly.”

“Woah woah. y/n there’s no way you’re ugly, period. And there’s no way Charlie thinks you’re ugly.”

“You’re just saying that cause I’m here.”

“I’m saying cause I’m your friend and Charlie thinks you’re fuckin smokin.”

y/n sat up and looked at copper again. “What?”

“Sorry. Let me re-phrase. Charlie thinks-“ Cooper paused, holding his soda in one hand. “I-uh. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t say anything!”

“Yes you did!” y/n stared at Cooper in confusion. He tried to get up and run, but stumbled in the sand and slammed into one of the coolers. He rolled over in the sand, groaning. y/n got out of her chair And knelt down next to him. “Tell me know?”

“He- ugh. He think you’re hot idiot.” Cooper rolled over, flopping his arms outwards and closing his eyes. “That fuckin hurt.”

y/n opened the cooler Cooper had fallen on. She took a handful of ice out and laid it on the spot on Cooper’s abdomen that had hit the cooler. She pressed it closer with the towel she’d been wearing moments before. “Tell me more!”

“No! I’m not doing this for the two of you.”

“The two of us?” y/n withdrew her hand slightly, feeling her face grow warm. “You’re not-“

“Shut up. You’re both so into each tower it’s gross.” Cooper looked back towards the shore line and gave an evil grin. “Speak of the devil.”

y/n paused. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone walking up the the chairs and towels that she had no doubt was Charlie. Cooper started standing, leaving her sitting in the sand.

“Hey you good? We saw you fall?”

“Yeah.” Cooper patted Charlie on the shoulder. “By the way, you tow should talk.”

y/n whipped her head away from Charlie, anger and embarrassment bubbling from within her. Charlie was none the wiser. “Uh, about what Cooper?”

Cooper pushed off of Charlie, walking back towards the water. “Tell her what you think man. I’m tired.”

Charlie watched Cooper walk into the water, then turned back to y/n with a furious blush. “I- uh. I like the suit. The dinosaurs. You look great- the dinosaurs. You look great in the suit with the dinosaurs. I mean you look great anyways I just- dinosaurs!”

“Thanks.” y/n sat up a bit straighter.

“So,” Charlie sat cross-legged on a blanket in the sand. “What were you two talking about?”

“I told Cooper I felt ugly and then he said that you said I was smokin.”

“You’re not-! I didn’t say that.”

“Come on Charlie, am I ugly or smokin?”

Charlie paused, frowning. “Joking doesn’t make it go away.”

“I know. It’s just easier. It’s okay it’s just weird to talk about.” She laid back onto the blanket, letting her arms rest above her head. “I like the bathing suit I just don’t like me in it.”

“I understand.” Charlie built small piles of sand at his feet. “I know I can’t change much but for what it’s worth I think you’re pretty.”

She turned her head, looking at him confusedly. “You do?”

“Well- I-“ He pursed his lips, thinking. “I would use the word gorgeous instead.”

“Oh.” y/n looked away from Charlie, trying to hide their flustered expression.

“Oh wait did I say the wrong thing?” Charlie started fiddling with his hands, not sure what to do. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable it’s just- fuck you’re so pretty and I really like you and god you look fucking great but you’re also really funny and smart and sweet and I like you so much but I’m really sorry-“

“Charlie.” y/n placed a hand on his arm, now sitting in the sand next to him. “You never made me uncomfortable.”

“Oh thank god. I never wanted to-“

“I like you to.”

Charlie froze, taking in what y/n said as a blush crept up his neck to his cheeks. He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “No way! Wait no way. Really?” y/n nodded and he laughed again, leaning over to place his hands on the side of her face and rest his forehead against hers. “Holy shit! Like actually holy shit!”

y/n laughed, quickly kissing Charlie’s nose. “Come on nerd let’s get back in the water.”

“Yeah! Yes.” Charlie scrambled upright, pulling a giggling y/n up with him. “Here watch this.” Charlie, in one fluid motion, swept y/n off her feet and began carrying her bridal style. He walked with her in his arms all the way to the water, where he fell into the water with her. They both came up for air, y/n laughing the whole time. “Better?”

“Much better.” y/n kissed him again, putting her arms over his shoulders to hold him close.

“Hey! You two.” Cooper splashed water at y/n and Charlie. “You done?”

The two paused, looking back to each other, then swam towards their group of friends, starting a splash free-for-all.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #8: A Real Howler in July

Words: ca. 5,500

Setting: modern AU

Lemon: no

CW: none

Was there anything worse than inclement weather?

Anna didn’t think so.

Not at this very moment anyway, buried nearly up to the waist in snow as she was. She hefted her ski pole out of the drift behind her with a grunt and plunged it haphazardly into the snow ahead of her. The screaming winds cut through her hard shell jacket like it was made of tissue paper and Anna’s body locked up while trying to shiver violently at the same time. Slush had gotten into the boots a size too big for her, squelching against her socks in an icy, soggy mess. The forest of dark pines offered scant protection against the swirling flurries that obscured her vision in a confetti of white. 

Snow, in July.

That was supposed to be a joke, just something people said— not a real thing. Wasn’t it? Anna was just grateful she’d chanced upon that bizarre store in the middle of the woods, otherwise she’d be doing this in jean shorts and a tank top. 

Oaken’s Trading Post (and Sauna)— that’s what the sign had said. It looked like any other cabin, but inside was a shop, sure enough. Anna had been greeted by a large man behind the counter in a thick wool sweater, suspenders, and an impressive mutton chop-mustache combo. This was the titular Oaken. 

The big, tall Norwegian in the loud sweater had given her a funny look when Anna explained why she was there and who she’d rented her cabin from. “Kristoff did not say anything when you booked those dates?” 

Wait, he knew this would happen?! What the hell!

Anna shook her head, failing to repress a full-body shiver as the heat of the shop started to thaw her out. Oaken clucked his tongue. “I swear, that boy. If it is not ice he is very clueless. I told him, ja? I told him he should not put his place on the line for strangers to use.”

Anna pressed her lips together, fighting a smile at the term “on the line”. She eyed the brick of a monitor behind the register that looked like it might be a gateway computer, and wondered if he still had dial-up. Or internet, period. 

Oaken caught her looking and shook his head. “No service up here now, phone or computer.” 

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any winter appropriate clothing here?”

Oaken gave her a wry look and gestured to the back of the shop. Their “winter” selection looked very sad indeed. “Not many tourists come to the mountain. Even those in the town stay away in July,” he said as Anna surveyed her options in disappointment. 

Well, fine. It wasn’t ideal, but Anna wasn’t about to give up. She slapped her wallet down on the counter. “Whatever you got? I’ll take it.” 

The sum total of what Oaken had was a bright fuchsia hard shell jacket, boots in a size 9 (she was a size 8), blue ski pants, gloves, a wool hat, and five pairs of long underwear. She took it all. 

Anna looked longingly at the sauna as he was ringing her up, but she couldn’t risk losing daylight. She settled for taking some extra time in the toasty changing room, putting on three pairs of long underwear (she couldn’t get the last two on without going up a size), and every other article of clothing that would fit under her new jacket. Everything else was shoved into her backpack. 

Oaken kindly lent her his own ski poles, the caveat being that she return them on her way back. 

Anna stood on the deck, looking out at the frozen landscape. She didn’t have much experience with this kind of weather, but that wasn’t going to stop her. One thing Anna wasn’t, was a quitter. She was going to find this damn cabin if it was the last thing she did.

What started as heavy snowfall soon escalated into a full blizzard. Anna kept herself going by composing a strongly worded review for Kristoff’s Airbnb in her head, one that got more acerbic with each step.

So. Here she was: three hours from Oaken’s, slush in her boots, pushing her way forward by kicking through the drift she’d sunk down. Anna could practically feel the blood freezing in her veins, suffocating the vital warmth that kept her functioning. She’d been seeing the markers Kristoff said would be there, but each one was taking longer to find.   

Anna unstuck her foot from the snow and took a giant step, pitching forward heavily. That was a mistake. The drift crumbled beneath her and she went down, tumbling head over heels through a sloping copse of trees until she rolled to a stop in a small clearing. Face first, of course. 

Weakly she pushed herself up, casting about for the ski poles. They had landed close by, and as she fumbled for them something caught her eye: a warm contrast against the frigid, grey landscape. There, at the edge of the clearing, was an honest to god cabin, with smoke puffing from the chimney and brightly lit windows shining like a beacon against the dark. 

She’d made it. 

Anna stumbled towards it, the tantalizing promise of warmth so close it made her whole body ache. The wind surged around her the closer she got, forcing Anna to swerve into it just to stay upright. She struggled up the stairs; leaning heavily on her poles. Leveraging herself onto the porch, she shuffled to the door, practically collapsing against it.  

It was locked. No key under the mat where there should’ve been. Seriously? Anna let the ski pole dangle from her wrist as she raised her fist and brought it down heavily on the door. “Is anyone in there?” She called out. “Please I just need to get out of the storm!”

She couldn’t hear anything over the wind and no one came to the door. 

Anna knocked again. 

Nothing. 

Anna continued knocking, and the blizzard grew stronger, as if it took personal offense to her presence. 

There had to be someone in there— Anna was pounding on the door now. “Please open up! I promise I’m not a murderer or anything!” She winced. Great sell Anna, that definitely won’t creep them out, because real murderers never say that. “Please, I’m supposed to be staying in Kristoff’s cabin and this is the only one around, and I’m really going to freeze out here if you don’t—”

The door swung open and Anna almost toppled to the floor. She grabbed for her ski pole and braced it against the deck. A waft of warm air curled around her exposed face and Anna looked up to see who had come to the door. 

Woah.

Okay so a model was using the cabin. Cool. Neat. 

The woman who stood there looked like the poster child for Nordic beauty, with long, braided platinum hair and shocking blue eyes. She was dressed surprisingly light (or so Anna thought) in an oversized, cable knit sweater and black leggings, no socks. Anna guessed she was about her age, maybe a little older—possibly mid to late twenties. 

The wind gave another disembodied wail, and Anna gestured inside. “Um, can I…?” 

The woman stared at her, but after a beat stepped aside silently to allow her in. 

Anna breathed a thank you as she trekked inside, basking with unspeakable relief in the heat and abrupt stillness from the absence of raging wind and snow. She turned around to find the other woman watching her from the door, leaning her back against it with one hand clasped around the knob. “So…who are you?”

“I believe I should be the one asking you that.”

The woman had a point, though Anna still wasn’t entirely sure whether or not this was the cabin she’d rented from Kristoff, and maybe he’d double booked it or something. She wouldn’t put it past him.  

“Sorry— yeah, I’m Anna.” She gave her a big smile, but her companion remained poker-faced. “I rented a cabin from a guy named Kristoff Bjorgman, on Airbnb? He, uh, never mentioned I should expect snow, which seems like a pretty big oversight, all things considered.” She looked pointedly out the window. 

The woman closed her eyes at that and sighed. 

“I take it you know him?”

“Yes.” 

“So…is this not his cabin then?”

“It is not.” 

“Okay…” 

The woman gave Anna a wide berth as she moved away from the door to the nearest window, peering out at the squall. 

“You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t be here.” 

“Well, yeah, of course I shouldn’t. I should be in my own cabin, the one I rented,” Anna said lightly, watching her reluctant hostess wring her hands. She seemed unduly nervous, even allowing that she’d been intruded upon by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. 

“Could I…? I mean,” Anna let out a nervous little laugh, “you’re not going to make me go out in that and try to find my way in the dark right?” 

She looked at Anna as if seeing her for the first time. The wind screamed, rattling the windows in their frames. “No… of course not.” She swallowed visibly. “I’ll…,” she gazed around the cabin as if it were the first time she was seeing that too, like Anna’s presence had thrown her whole life out of orbit and everything she knew was now foreign. 

She took Anna in from head to toe— in all of her frozen, slowly melting glory. A trickle of thawed snow slipped down the back of Anna’s neck and she shuddered. 

“You need to get warm,”she said gravely. 

“Yes please,” Anna exhaled gratefully. “Um, sorry I still don’t know your name.” 

“My name is Elsa.” She gestured over her shoulder. “I’ll run you a bath. You can leave your boots and jacket by the door.” With that, she was off down a hallway and out of sight. 

“Thank you!” Anna called after her, quickly shedding her outer layers. Well, this wasn’t the worst development in the world. 

Anna let out a dreamy sigh and sank lower in the tub. Steam drifted in lazy tendrils from the surface of the water and her eyelids were getting heavy. Before she fell asleep, Anna dragged herself from the bath and stuffed herself into her last two pairs of long thermal underwear. Elsa had graciously provided her a cable knit sweater and fleece joggers. 

She came out of the bathroom and wandered into the living room just as Elsa finished tucking a sheet into the couch. She stacked an enormous pile of blankets on the cushions. “I would give you the bed, but I think you need the fire more. Hopefully it’s comfortable enough.” She looked up and stopped at the sight of Anna. 

Anna ran a hand through her damp hair, suddenly nervous under Elsa’s attention. “I know, I look a little different when I’m not rocking the half-frozen rat look.”

Elsa’s lips curled faintly. “It’s not a bad different. And you’re not the worst half-frozen specimen I’ve seen.” 

Anna chuckled. “Glad to hear it.” She collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the nest of blankets. Her body was utterly exhausted, but the physical exertion coupled with the muscle memory of getting warm after so much cold left her tingling pleasantly down to her bones. “Oh that’s nice.”

“There’s some hot chocolate, if you’d like.” Elsa indicated the steaming mug on the coffee table. 

Anna almost lunged for it. She took a careful sip, and burned her tongue anyway. “Oh, you’re an angel.” For being so reticent to let Anna stay, Elsa was incredibly hospitable. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Elsa said. She turned to go but hesitated. “He really put his cabin on Airbnb?”

“Mhmm,” Anna hummed the affirmative as she took another gulp, watching Elsa’s face. 

Elsa shook her head and murmured something that sounded like he should know better. “Perhaps he confused the dates.”

Again with the dates. It was starting to give her an inkling, like she’d wandered into an episode of the twilight zone. Her host was half way out of the room when Anna popped her head over the back of the couch. “Elsa?”

She turned back. “Yes?” 

“Thank you, seriously. If I hadn’t found your cabin and you hadn’t let me in… I don’t know what would have happened.”

A look Anna couldn’t interpret passed over Elsa’s face. She nodded once. “Goodnight Anna. Sleep well.”

“Night,” Anna said to Elsa’s retreating back.

*

Elsa barely slept, too anxious and distressed by the foreign presence in her living room. There shouldn’t be anyone on this mountain right now, let alone someone a handful of meters away in her cabin. The night of tossing and turning, of pacing, had only made it worse and she was completely unsurprised, yet bitterly disappointed the next morning when she came into the kitchen and found the window half obstructed by snow. There was nothing she could do at this point to mitigate the storm. 

They were trapped. 

Elsa had no idea if Anna could survive the cold that was coming.

One coffee later Anna stumbled in, tousled and groggy. Elsa set a fresh filter in the carafe. “Good morning.” 

“Is it?” Anna mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She’d draped herself in a blanket, only her face peaking out. The effect was quite endearing, a little childlike, and Elsa reminded herself sharply that Anna was still a stranger, and her situation could soon be perilous. 

“Well, you didn’t murder me in my sleep, so I think it could be worse.”

Anna cocked her head in confusion. 

“You shouted yesterday while you were trying to knock my door down that you were not ‘a murderer or anything’,” Elsa clarified, pouring a steaming kettle over the coffee grounds. 

Anna laughed sheepishly. “You heard that huh?” 

Elsa allowed herself a small smile. “I did.” 

“Well it’s true, I’m not.” She grinned, but it slipped off her face when she saw the window. “Oh my god, all that is from last night?” 

Elsa clenched her jaw as Anna moved closer to it, gaping out over the white barricade to the sky furiously hurling snow. “Still coming down too…”

“Yes,” Elsa said tightly, pouring muesli into two bowls. “We won’t be able to leave the cabin until the storm is over.”

Anna sighed and sat down heavily in her chair. “There goes my deposit.”

*

After breakfast they gravitated towards separate activities. Anna returned to the nest of blankets on the couch and checked her phone, which was dwindling at 5% battery. When she asked about charging it Elsa informed her there was no electricity; the cabin was only equipped with a propane tank to heat the water, and power the stove and the fridge. 

They were roughing it…sort of. 

Elsa checked the cabin meticulously, fixing blankets over the windows for insulation, cataloguing her supplies, and lighting candles on practically every available surface. 

It was quite cozy, and Anna was happy to doze intermittently while her body recovered from lingering jet lag and her frozen hike. 

Conversation between them was sparse, but Anna put it down to Elsa’s clear anxiety over the state of things and decided not to take it personally. 

—

Anna shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, wrapping Elsa’s thick wool cardigan across her chest, over the borrowed sweater. She stopped. 

“Weren’t there five chairs here yesterday?”

“Hmm?” Elsa murmured absently while layering peppered salami on a tray next to a neat row of jarlsburg slices. Anna noticed she made sure to put the pickled herring with dill in a separate bowl; it turned out Anna was not a fan. 

“The chairs,” Anna pointed to the empty side of the table. “Are we …missing some?” 

Elsa glanced up at the breakfast nook as she plated a handful of rye slices. She turned to check on the potatoes boiling on the stove, brushing her hands on her apron. “I’m using them elsewhere.”

Anna shrugged and went to set the table. They only needed two after all. 

By midday, Anna was getting a little antsy. 

“If the snow wasn’t so high— and there wasn’t a raging blizzard, obviously— we could be building snowmen right now,” Anna said wistfully, holding aside the blanket to gaze out at the narrow strip of murky white sky. Only a few inches remained between the drift and the top of the window.

“I know!” Anna spun around. “Do you have any paper and something to draw with?”

Elsa looked baffled by the request, but retrieved a notebook and a couple of pencils for her. Anna tore out some blank pages, waving Elsa to sit down across from her. “Okay, so since we can’t go outside and build real snowmen, we can at least make some this way.” Elsa glanced from the paper to Anna, looking unconvinced. Anna shrugged. “We have to pass the time somehow right?”

“Alright.” 

It took some doing at first; Elsa kept getting lost in the middle distance while she tapped her pencil anxiously against the table. With enough prodding from Anna though, she got into it and by the time dinner rolled around they had a small army of 2D snow people. 

Anna’s second favorite was a delightfully monstrous snow creature Elsa had sketched with precise strokes and deft shading. Her first was undeniably goofy but charming; squat and awkwardly shaped, with big eyes and a bucktoothed grin. That one they’d made together, with Elsa illustrating while Anna directed her and offered suggestions.  

They named him Olaf and Anna thought he was perfect.

After dinner they sat by the fire, sipping mulled wine Elsa heated for them on the stove. Anna was grateful for the added warmth and the pleasant buzz. 

“It’s just so crazy you guys have a blizzard in July,” Anna said suddenly, voicing the thought that had been a constant, giant question mark. “Every year! What even is that?”

Elsa set her glass aside and leaned back in the chair, cradling her arms across her stomach. “It’s just something that happens here. Though, if it has to happen I think July is probably the best time.”

“How could summer be the right time for snow?”

Elsa shifted and bit her lip. “We already have harsh winters here, a snowstorm like this on top of that would be even more dangerous. Better one briefly interrupts July and then everyone has the rest of summer to enjoy, don’t you think?”

Anna could admit that sort of made sense. Still, it wasn’t any less weird. 

—

On day three Anna was up to three sweaters, a blanket, and two pairs of sweat pants. Elsa was down to a fitted henley and jeans. She was beginning to wonder if Elsa would give her the last shirt off her back if it came to it, and that mental image got Anna flustered enough to feel like shedding layers instead of adding them. 

She amused herself by exploring the cabin— at least, the areas that weren’t private. Elsa had a few intriguing nicknacks, but what captured Anna’s attention were the two bookcases next to the fireplace. Books of all kinds lined the shelves; in English, Norwegian, and other languages she couldn’t place. There were novels, and textbooks, and books so old she didn’t dare touch them. 

Later, after Elsa had finished her bath, Anna persuaded her to read from one with a deep blue cover and silver leaf embossing. It was clear by the illustrations they were fairytales, though she couldn’t understand any of them. Anna quickly discovered she could listen to the smooth lilt of Elsa’s mother tongue forever, but before long her eyes had closed and the soft norwegian story trailed off with her consciousness. 

When she woke, Elsa was still curled up in the armchair, reading silently. Anna stretched and plodded over to the fireplace. She grabbed the fire iron and prodded at the remaining wood, making sure it was all lit. One of the logs cracked and split in a pop of sparks, and something beneath it caught her eye. Anna leaned closer; it was oddly smooth and cylindrical, and just there was an intricately carved pattern like—  

The chairs in the kitchen. 

So that’s where they went.

Clearly Elsa had some strange immunity to the cold, and she hadn’t bothered to stockpile more wood for herself even though she new the storm was coming.

She’d been burning her own furniture to keep Anna warm. 

Anna looked over at the woman, still completely absorbed by the book in her lap. Another small piece of the enigmatic puzzle that was Elsa fell into place; one that made Anna’s chest feel tight, and warm, and a little achy. 

Elsa glanced up then and noticed her staring. She blinked. “What?”

Anna cleared her throat and stood up, brushing her hands on the back of her pants. It felt important to let Elsa have this secret. She put on a reassuring smile. “Nothing. Can I make you some hot chocolate?”

Elsa smiled. “Yes, please.”

That night Elsa actually joined Anna on the couch, curling into the opposite corner while they started their second glass of mulled wine.

“So why do you come up here all by yourself? And during weather like this, no less?” 

Elsa’s lips twisted in a way that was difficult to read. “I’m not bothered by the cold,” she said, confirming the obvious. “And I’m not always good at being around other people.” 

“You’re an introvert.” 

“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Elsa swirled the wine in her glass. “After a while the world gets too loud and I need to be alone, completely. I come here to get away and try to let go of all the things that build up. All the reasons I can’t be…normal.”

Anna leaned her head back into the cushions, tilting her face towards Elsa. “Normal is overrated, and there’s nothing wrong with needing space. You gotta get those feelings out somehow.” 

“Sometimes I think I feel too much.”

“Better than too little.” 

Elsa hummed noncommittally. Anna could feel her starting to withdraw, and searched for some way to hold on to this unexpectedly open side of Elsa. “I think that was my ex’s problem.” 

Elsa looked up. “Oh?” 

“Yup,” she said, popping her lips on the ‘p’. “Too shallow. Took me a year to figure it out, and that was only as he was leaving me. It was a great reminder of why I prefer dating women,” she muttered into her glass. 

She inhaled and continued past the bitterness. “It’s one of the reasons I made this trip actually— well that and the vet clinic where I work shutting down. A little hard to start your own practice in a big city that already has plenty. I guess I was feeling a little adrift, and my aunt and uncle always talked about showing me the place where they grew up, so I thought: why not? Though technically they’re from Fevik, not Arendal, but Fevik doesn’t have much to offer in the way of rentals.”

“Why would anyone leave you?” 

Dammit. She was hoping Elsa wouldn’t focus too closely on her love troubles. Anna chuckled humorlessly. “When he broke up with me he said, and I quote: ‘Anna, you’re great, but you’re just too much’.” 

She shrugged and took a liberal sip. It didn’t matter that Hans had casually flung her deepest insecurity in her face right before he walked out the door forever. Even if he hadn’t been the best partner, and she hadn’t been happy towards the end. 

It was fine. 

“You are a lot.” 

Elsa quickly reached for her hand when she saw the look of hurt Anna couldn’t hide, surprising them both. For a moment it seemed like she might pull away, but she squeezed Anna’s hand instead. “I didn’t say you were too much. You are a lot of a good thing.” Elsa withdrew her hand and cupped it around her wine glass, staring into the burgundy liquid. “Some people don’t deserve that,” she finished quietly.

It must have been the alcohol sloshing in her stomach and the fumes muddying her brain that made Anna say, into a silence suddenly heavy with nebulous meaning: “Why do I feel like we’re not just talking about my ex anymore?”

Elsa sucked in a breath, as if she hadn’t realized her words would be so revealing. She set her glass down on the coffee table then tucked her feet under her, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her chest while she picked at the fringe. 

Anna knew her brain had fully turned off her filter when her mouth continued to work, seemingly of its own volition. “Don’t you deserve good things Elsa?”

Elsa curled herself tighter around the pillow, her eyes seeking answers in the embers of their small fire. The cabin groaned as the storm surged around them. “I’m not sure I do,” she whispered. 

Anna felt her heart break, just a little, at that soft admission. 

“I think that’s bullshit.”

Elsa looked at her, startled. “You barely know me.” 

Anna thought of chair legs and hot chocolate, of warm baths and borrowed clothes— of how she’d never experienced so much cold in her life, and she’d never felt so warm either. The way Elsa humored her, not because Anna was a burden or an obligation, but because she seemed to actually enjoy her company. “I think I know enough. And I’m sure anyone would be fantastically lucky to have you in their life. I know I am.” 

“Why?”

“Well, for starters you saved me from freezing to death out there.”

Elsa shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been in danger of that if I—” she clamped her lips shut. 

“If you what?”

“If I… had checked with Kristoff before he listed his cabin.”

Anna frowned. “That’s hardly your fault, Elsa. It was his mistake. Besides it’s not like you can control the weather.”

Elsa flinched. A thread pulled free from the pillow; she laid it carefully on the arm of the couch. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

“Hey.” Anna extended her leg across the couch and nudged the bottom of her foot against Elsa’s. “I’ve always wanted to experience getting snowed in. I’m glad it was with you.” 

Elsa’s smile was bittersweet. 

But still there, and Anna took that as a win.

*

They finished the rest of their wine in companionable silence as the fire burned down and the night grew deeper. Elsa got up to take the empty glasses to the kitchen. 

“We’re out of wood.” 

“What?” Elsa spun slowly to see Anna squatting by the fireplace. There was nothing left but ash. Elsa had been so distracted by Anna, the wine, and the conversation, that she’d forgotten to find more to salvage, and she’d left Anna without a source of heat. 

This was what happened when Elsa wasn’t careful, when she wasn’t in control of herself — 

“We should sleep together.”

Elsa nearly dropped the glasses.

“What?” 

“Oh my g— n-no! Not like that!” Anna flushed scarlet. “I meant like, for warmth.” She pulled her blanket around herself and looked everywhere but at Elsa. 

Elsa’s pulse slowed a fraction, and she tried to ignore the unexpected whisper of heat low in her stomach. It dissipated instantly when she registered what Anna was suggesting. “Anna, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not…I…I run quite cold, I’d probably make it worse—”

“Then I’ll just have to warm you up.” Anna stopped, her face burning again. “I meant like— oh whatever, you know what I mean.” She came and liberated the glasses from Elsa, setting them in the kitchen sink. Elsa protested weakly as Anna grabbed her hand and marched towards the bedroom, but it seemed she remained powerless to the force of nature that was Anna. 

“Wait.” She tugged on Anna’s hand. “Let me at least get the blankets.”

While Anna got ready, Elsa layered back all the bedding she’d stripped away that first night, grateful Anna hadn’t commented on the fact that she’d been sleeping with nothing but a fitted sheet.

When Anna returned she quickly flung herself under the covers; Elsa climbed in reluctantly on the other side, staying as close to the edge as possible. After a minute Anna pushed the covers down and looked over at her. 

“Okay, I’m not saying you have to spoon me, but it’s going to be a little difficult to share heat from way over there.” 

Elsa bit her lip and slid closer, heart pounding. She felt like Anna was asking her to hand over a live grenade. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to anyone. 

“Liiittle closer,” Anna coaxed. Elsa got as close as she dared, still leaving about 20 centimeters of space between them. She drew up the covers more securely, trying to insulate Anna against the cold, against her. As she tucked another blanket around them, her hand brushed Anna’s arm.

Anna shivered. “Geez you’re cold.” She latched onto her wrist before Elsa could react, pulling her closer. “You must be freezing,” she muttered, running her palm back and forth over Elsa’s forearm. 

Elsa was frozen; her whole body had gone rigid, while her heart had leaped into her throat. Anna had pulled her closer as if that would bring them heat, and now she was worried about Elsa being warm enough. The irony was excruciating. But Anna’s grip was strong, and Elsa felt a twisted flair of hope; that perhaps, just this once, she might be capable of more than cold. 

Anna shuffled back drowsily into her arms and Elsa held her breath, waiting for the worst. Minutes went by and nothing happened; Anna sank into the pillow with a sigh, still holding onto her. Tentatively, Elsa began to relax, as fragile hope turned to wonder. 

Anna hadn’t turned away.  

At every turn Anna had been reaching out, even when Elsa was reserved, or anxious, or closed off. Anna kept drawing her out, kept intriguing and surprising her. 

Anna had felt the cold, her cold, and she reached for Elsa anyway. 

In that moment it didn’t matter that Anna wasn’t aware of the whole truth— yet, because after the last few days with this woman, Elsa was confident that Anna wouldn’t have done a thing differently.   

The last thing Elsa knew was a soft snore, and the feel of Anna against her, and then she knew nothing else.

—

The first thing Elsa became aware of, was warmth. Heavy warmth, and a body in her arms, and breath on her neck. She inhaled slowly, soaking in each incredible, hazy sensation. It took a few moments for Elsa’s brain to remember who was in bed with her, and who it was nuzzling closer with a sweet sigh. Her pulse jump started, and for once, not out of fear. It seemed Anna was fine—more than, in fact— and Elsa was greedy for every last moment before the inevitable. 

After a few minutes the spell broke as Anna stirred groggily, pressing her face into the pillow with a murmur. One eye opened and landed on Elsa. It grew wider when Anna realized just how close they were and she quickly disentangled herself, cheeks flushed bright red. “Oops, sorry, I uh, I can be a little clingy when I share a bed.” 

Elsa struggled with the near physical ache begging her to pull Anna back to her arms, a sensation as terrifying as it was foreign, as baffling as it was undeniable. “It’s alright,” she said softly, her own face feeling a little hot. 

She watched Anna hop out of bed and go to the window to throw open the curtains, seemingly more out of habit than anything else. 

Anna gasped. “No. Way. Elsa! You have to see this—you’re not gonna believe it!” 

Elsa frowned and joined her apprehensively at the window. She peered out, and lost her breath.

Nearly all the snow was gone. 

Only a thin layer remained on the ground, melting under the bright sunlight. Large swathes of grass were showing, triumphant and sparkling in the fading frost. 

Anna bumped her hip against Elsa’s. “Isn’t this great?! We can go outside! We can stock up on supplies, I can wear my clothes again— not that I don’t like yours— Oh, we could have a picnic! Kristoff said there was a lake nearby, I wonder if Oaken has a boat…“

Anna continued spouting ideas as she left the room, and Elsa registered distantly that all Anna’s haphazard plans involved her. The sharp little anxiety at the thought of having to say goodbye died before it could take root. 

Elsa remained at the window, dazed and transfixed by the landscape that had been altered so drastically overnight. 

Or perhaps, had been four days in the making. 

Anna rushed back in, finally having realized Elsa wasn’t following her. She grabbed Elsa by the hand and led her outside, where they came to a stop in the grass just past the porch. They stood, absorbing the sunlight, the gentle breeze and the birdsong. Anna still had ahold of her hand, and Elsa was content to keep it there for as long as she’d let her. 

The sun blazed forth from behind a passing cloud, and Anna shaded her eyes with her free hand. “It seems like that freak storm really has passed huh?”

A smile pulled at Elsa’s lips and she looked up into the vivid blue sky. “So it would seem.”

[whumpinggrounds]

Gotcha Day

my first non-Febuwhump piece of writing! here goes :) this is set before the last day of Febuwhump (You Have To Let Me Go) and i mean i really don’t need to explain much i don’t think bc it’s fairly self-explanatory but i am nervous so. yes

tagging @shapeshiftersandfire and @killtheprotagonist ! lmk if you want to be added/removed from being tagged it is a lot a lot of content so sorry about that

CW: lady whump, pet whump, dehumanization, memory loss, discussion of scars, past burns, implied non con,

Director Hammond’s office is much like the Director herself – alternately welcoming and terrifying, depending on what mood has struck her. Today, the curtains are open, the room is filled with light, and the Director has a bouquet of flowers on her desk in a vase. That’s good, right? All of that is good.

Mara still feels the nerves in her stomach buzzing like a hive.

“I don’t want to drag this out,” the Director begins, and Mara’s heart sinks. It’s some polite dismissal, something like that. There’s a self-satisfied little smile playing around the woman’s lips, and Mara tries to brace herself, folding her hands neatly in her lap and staring down her doom with icy eyes. “We have decided to let you train her. 067493.”

Stunned, Mara stares at the Director. There are no words in her mouth, no words in her head. She wants to speak, knows she should speak, but she can’t. An incredulous smile starts to curl up her face.

“Now, before you get too excited, there are some conditions.” Despite her lecturing tone, there’s a smile on the Director’s face – probably because of Mara’s huge ferocious grin. “She’s not your pet, technically speaking, not until the trial period is over. Obviously, she’s coming with what we call a factory defect, so you got very lucky there, otherwise we’d never let her go. She’s not fully trained, but honestly, Ms. Langford, we’re not going to spend the money and time to finish out the training on a model that we’re essentially giving away.”

“Yes.” Mara’s head is nodding on her neck like a bobblehead. “Yes, okay, that’s fine. That’s okay. That’s so okay.”

Amused by her eagerness, the Director nods. “Good. Now, primarily, Ms. Langford, we want to explore two things with 067493, and we feel that gifting her to an employee, while highly unusual, will give us an opportunity to answer some outstanding questions.”

“Okay.” Mara’s heart is racing. God, she feels like she’s going to pass out any second. “Okay, so, so, um, what are those questions, then? The things…what it is you want to, um, explore?”

The Director smiles at her, fondly, warmly. “First of all…” she pauses for effect, “some of the higher-ups loved this therapeutic aid idea. If it’s workable, there could be a strong market there. Of course, we’ve been trying to work a caregiver angle for a while, but the medical stuff is often just too complex for pets. This emotional approach could give us a very similar sector, but with none of the concern about pets operating medical machinery incorrectly.”

“Y-yes.” Mara’s breathless, dazed, struggling just to keep up. “Yes, definitely-”

“Now, not everyone is convinced, but enough of us think that it’s worth a try. Which brings us to our second objective.”

Here, the Director pauses long enough that Mara can stop focusing on her breathing and look up inquisitively. Finally, tentatively, she prompts her superior. “Ma’am?”

The Director shakes her head as if to clear it. “Yes, well. What we are interested in is…is…” she purses her lips, clearly wondering how to explain. “Pets who may end up living with someone they know or recognize from their former life. As you know, pets are prone to false memories.” Mara nods dutifully, despite knowing full well there’s no such thing. “We want to see if our Boxies can be taught and trained in such a way that they can be…reintroduced to their old life, or one like it, while maintaining good behavior and accurate memory blocks.”

“That sounds…” Mara swallows. “That sounds…difficult.”

“Indeed.” For the first time, the Director looks grim. “Of course, that’s exactly what you’re attempting with 493, and if you could pull it off…we’ve had some interest. People who want to…serve their loved ones in a more straightforward and simplified fashion.” For just a moment, Mara tunes out, thinking with a sort of horrified fascination on the kind of environment that would lead to someone wanting to erase themselves while staying where they were.

Or, even worse, Mara pictures someone coming in asking for a loved one to be erased, returned sweet and pliable and empty. She barely represses a shudder. Ignorant of Mara’s internal monologue, the Director forges on.

“We are proposing that you take 067493 home as your Domestic. You will be responsible for making her into a…a prototype, essentially, for this therapeutic aid program. You will also be expected to report any aberrant behaviors that could conceivably result from…ah, memory confusion.”

“I can do that.” That all sounds absurd, and difficult, and unfair, but Mara doesn’t care right now. All she cares about is getting Jude and taking her home and, and having her. Having her back.

“We’re going to allow you an adjustment period, and then we’re going to ask that you bring 067493 in for regular checkups, where we’ll be looking for signs of this memory confusion, as well as updates on your progress.”

“That…yes, that sounds very doable.”

Once again, the Director smiles fondly across the desk at her, and Mara has a funny, frightening feeling that she’s become Barbara Hammond’s newest little pet project. “I believe that it is, Ms. Langford. Despite the cosmetic defaults, she seems like a sweet thing. I can’t wait to see what you do with her.”

___

When Handler Collins leads Jude out, Mara’s heart about stops in her chest. There she is. There’s Jude. There’s…Jude, and not Jude.

A pair of black shorts, a WRU white t-shirt over skin that’s much paler than last time Mara saw it. Her stocky frame diminished, all her old rugby muscle losing or lost. She looks like...Mara hates the cliche, but she looks like a ghost of her former self, literally. Skinnier, paler, a whole lot more haunted. Her hair, her hands, the freckles and the way she walks just a little pigeon-toed – that’s Jude, that’s Jude all the way. The flat, false calm in her face and the fear in her eyes…that’s someone else. Swallowing, Mara clasps her hands together in front of her, trying to quell the urge to reach for her girl.

“Here she is!” Handler Collins throws his hands out grandly from his place beside the boxgirl. “All yours.”

“Wow,” Mara manages. “Uh…wow.”

Collins shakes his head. “Wow is right. But, hey, wait – you want to check the damage?” He’s still grinning, like it’s no big deal, like it’s all a joke. Mara sucks in a deep breath. The-the Box Babe in front of her is wearing a t-shirt, but Mara can see her cracked reddened palms and wonders what the thin cotton over her chest is hiding.

“I…I guess, yeah. I mean, I’m taking her either way,” she mutters, trying for a joke. Collins is more than happy to laugh at her.

“Shirt off, 493.”

Hesitantly, the trainee obeys, darting a wide-eyed glance at Mara as she does. The cotton goes over her head and oh.

Oh. There, on the right side of the girl’s chest, is the burn, red and angry and raised, covered in blisters. The scarring is worst on her collarbone, but the pink, stretched, destroyed skin crosses her neck below the line of her collar in one direction, creeps toward her armpit in the other. Mara’s horror must show on her face, because the girl flushes, looks down.

“That’s um. That’s pretty bad.”

Handler Collins shakes his head. “You don’t have to tell me. Fucking Underwood. Fuck.” He spits on the ground near the trainee’s bare feet. “She’s finished the antibiotics she’s supposed to be taking. The vet thinks she should be set. Just uh, she’s got this stuff she’s supposed to spread on it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Mara can’t stop staring at the burn, at the way it glares out, crimson and furious, from Jude’s pale, freckled skin. With effort, she tears her eyes away, to the downturned head of the waiting boxgirl. “Put…uh, put your shirt back on.”

The girl obliges quickly, and, Mara imagines, gratefully. She’s too well-trained to even wince when her movements stretch and ripple her healing skin. Mara’s eyes move hungrily over her face, her skinny body, searching for the parts of Jude she recognizes. The girl keeps her eyes on the ground but her cheeks go pink under the scrutiny.

“Doc, I gotta say.” Collins is shaking his head, and reluctantly, Mara turns her attention to him. “I don’t know how you got this one past the Director. I mean – a Box Babe for free? After what, ten months of working here?”

“Fourteen,” Mara corrects, a little too quietly. She clears her throat and tries again. “Over a year, Handler Collins.”

Rolling his eyes, Collins dismisses her with a flap of his hand. “A couple months, a year, whatever. A matter of months and you’ve got yourself a bonus worth tens of thousands? You must’ve shrunk the Director’s head to get her to agree to this one.”

Mara manages a tight smile for him. “I’m definitely…I definitely feel lucky.”

Leaning in, eyes gleaming conspiratorially, Collins puts his mouth near Mara’s ear. “You have good reason to feel lucky, Doc. Me and the guys – well, you’ve given some good advice, these past few months. It’s helped. And business is up. Company’s talking about padding the paychecks a little, and you’re a part of that, you know?” He gives her a hearty slap on the back and Mara forces a smile. “You’re part of the team! And the pet’s a gift from the company, but we thought, hey, why not a little something from us handlers, for our good doc?”

A shiver runs down Mara’s spine. “What…” she wets her lips, tries to sound amused, curious. “What did you do?”

“We only had a week or so to do it. Director Hammond decided so late, and all. But, but look, we crammed in some Romantic training, just for you.” Collins’ leer is too much. “None of the positions, of course, that shit’s extra, but a few of the lines, a few, ah…habits you might like.”

Mara thinks about him touching Jude and wants to tear the grin right off his face, wants to snarl and scratch and chew him out right there. Instead, she finds the girl’s eyes, searches there for some help, some hope, some recognition. Anything.

Her new Box Babe looks back at her with eyes that are flat and dull and empty.

[uncrowneds]

⋆ ° ⟡ ( MANNY JACINTO, thirty, cis-male, he/him ) i saw NOEL DE LA CRUZ at the winter palace. did you know that the PHYSICIST/OLYMPIC LUGER is originally from THE PHILIPPINES? i heard they can be quite HEEDLESS, but also INNOVATIVE. there’s rumours they’re at the winter palace TO LECTURE AT THE NATIONAL UNIVERSITY, but you never know. THE FLICK OF A CHEAP LIGHTER, THE HAZY STILLNESS BEFORE DAWN & THE IRREGULAR RHYTHM OF AN ELEVATED HEART RATE always remind me of them.

&&. drinking over-brewed coffee out of a chipped mug. the freedom of flying. the cord of muscle as it tenses in anticipation. dragging concentric circles with your fingers on a wooden table. the bite of nail into the meat of your palm as your hand curls into a fist. blue sky, with salt in the air. a smile that crinkles at the eyes. cold air burning against your lungs. a party that rages until dawn.

cw for drug mention.

in short, island boy moves to the usa, gets an academic boner for bobsledding/luge/skeleton, writes a thesis and becomes the fastest luger alive. there’s physics, hyperfixation, and chaos.

mostly i saw that cool runnings was coming to disney+ in 2020 and i got excited ok

background:

our story begins with two prestigious academics in the province of pampanga. they fall in love and they have a son, and then they spend thirty minutes arguing about what to name him because life’s like that sometimes.

(ps, the son is noel.)

(pps, his mother picked the name.)

 the son grows up happy and healthy. when he shows aptitude for academics at a young age, his family is overjoyed. he attends a fancy prep school in manila, then, following his father’s footsteps, moves to america to attend phillips exeter academy.

exeter is wild. the less said the better.

he attends mit for his undergrad degree, where he pursues a joint degree in mechanical engineering and physics. 

this part’s important: noel’s smashed and watching the winter olympics one night with his roommates one night when he has a realization: bobsledding is INCREDIBLE. the application and interplay of various physics models? FASCINATING. the combination of engineering with natural sciences to create the optimal conditions for speed? FUN. the arm muscles? HOT. it’s a theoretically beautiful sport, from a physics perspective.

and, in typical noel fashion, he doesn’t let it go. he does his senior honors thesis on improving the perfect slide; yes, there’s technically a limit, but if you optimized the construction of that one thing and managed to get lucky with certain ice conditions——long story short, he comes up with a theory to go even faster. in theoretical conditions, it’s foolproof.

naturally, the next step is to try it. never mind the fact he’s never luged before. the science supports him.

(this does not end well.)

(at first.)

but he keeps at it, and he actually gets good at luge. like, really good. like, compete at international levels good.

like, call up the philippine government and ask if they’d be down to let him compete under the flag at the winter olympics good.

he gets silver at his first olympics. he continues to do very well in regular competition. at his second olympics, he gets a gold. he thinks this next one might be his last, so Pressure’s On.

in typical noel fashion, he also pursues his doctorate in physics at eth zurich while all this is happening. it is Rough but he makes it through with the aid of substances he has to stop well before the off-season.

he’s come to genovia in part because he’s been invited to be a guest lecturer at the national genovian university, but mostly because of their olympic training center.

things u should know:

noel’s personality is essentially serial hyperfixation. he’s sweet, but a bit absentminded——if it’s not something directly related to his interests (ie sledding or science), it’s not gonna stick. 

science!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i am but a humble philosophy major tho so uh.. keep ur expectations low

he was pretty wild thru high school and uni right up until he had The Luge Epiphany. since then, he’s been pretty much focused entirely on sledding and physics?? he’ll go on a crazy bender once every off-season to keep it fresh i guess but otherwise he’s calmed down a Lot.

DRUGS CW: had an issue with adderall during his doctoral period. it almost got him suspended from international competition and there have been some whispers about cheating, but he’s never actually competed while on anything. 

not good at commitment! pretty emotionally dumdum in general, to be honest.

he’s fun, though!!

he’s lived in northeast usa and europe for most of his adult life, but he’s really and truly an island boy at heart. he speaks kapampangan, tagalog, english, and german. the last of these is..not very pleasant to listen to.

allergic to cats.

[ginger-and-mint]

Sleepy stuffing scenario? Or a villain/hero stuffing scenario?

So I started out aiming for “sleepy” but then “hero/villain” themes mixed into my head in weird ways and in the end, I had… this? I am absolutely positive this is not what you had in mind for either of these prompts… but here it is anyway! *jazz hands*

Featuring Theo the Recurring Vampire and his very patient boyfriend Darren. Previous stuff with Theo: [x] [x] [x]

CW: general vampiric blood drinking, nausea, mentions of weight gain (not in a fetishized way), good old-fashioned vampire angst??

“Theo! Wake up!”

Theo jolted awake with a hiccup and a groan. “Ughhhh. Why?” He wiped a bit of blood from his lips and glanced blearily around the moonlit pasture, as though he’d forgotten what they were doing there.

Darren crouched down beside his boyfriend and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “You’ve still got three sheep left to go, love, come on.”

“Ohh, do I have to? I’m so tired and I’m already so full….”

“You’ve still got room.” Darren poked Theo’s belly, which was big and bulging but still not quite as tight as he knew the vampire could get it. “You have to get your fill now. It’s got to tide you over until next weekend, remember!”

Theo groaned. “All right, fine. Can you bring the next one to me? I don’t wanna move.”

“Getting spoiled, are we?”

“Hey, you try standing up with belly this full and tell me how easy it is!”

“Point taken.” Darren ruffled Theo’s hair affectionately as he got up to fetch one of the woolly lumps slumbering nearby.

Nearly two months had passed since they’d started Theo’s livestock diet. They’d since learned a lot of lessons—one of them being that if Theo snuck up on each animal he wanted and gave them quick nibbles, his anesthetic venom would knock them out. Then they could be picked up and drained like juice boxes. And Theo did drain them like juice boxes.

It was certainly interesting, driving your boyfriend an hour out of the city once a week to watch him gorge himself on animal blood in the dead of the night. Theo had guiltily offered to make the trip alone several times, but even he had to admit that he was pretty useless after he’d fed and needed Darren’s help.

Besides, Darren sort of liked watching.

He deposited the next sheep into Theo’s lap. “Order up! One mutton chop, extra rare.”

Theo buried his nose in the sheep’s wool and took a deep inhale of its scent. “Mmm, thanks Darr,” he purred before biting down.

Darren watched him with a fond smile. It was terrifying but also strangely cute, the way Theo drank with singular predatory focus, one hand on his swollen tummy.

It was also good to see him eat after so many weeks of helplessly watching him starve. Theo looked so much healthier these days. He’d put on weight, regaining everything he’d lost and then some. Privately, Darren thought he was actually getting a bit pudgy, although he never would’ve injured Theo’s vain streak by saying that aloud. It wasn’t a bad look on him—certainly better than that gaunt, wasted look he’d had before.

A snore jolted Darren out of his thoughts, and he realized that Theo had fallen asleep with his cheek pillowed in wool, blood dripping from his open mouth.

“Theo!” Darren shook his shoulder. “C’mon, you’ve got to finish!”

“—Hmm? Oh. Ugh….”

“Have you been getting enough sleep lately?”

“I dunno. It is the middle of the night.” Theo burped and pressed a hand against his stomach. He let out a deep sigh before reluctantly biting back down.

Darren’s brow creased with concern. Something was wrong. Usually, Theo relished every drop, even when he was near to bursting—glutting himself with euphoric abandon and then lying back to luxuriate in his fullness like a sated lion. Now, he sat stiff and stony-faced, finishing off the sheep with reluctant, painful-looking swallows.

He let the drained carcass drop with a groan. “Darren—honestly, I don’t feel very good. Can we just go home?”

“Oh! What part of you doesn’t feel good?”

“I guess my—my stomach is sort of upset.” Theo rubbed a hand over his belly. It sloshed audibly, bloated but not quite tight with blood. “I’ve had enough, I can’t drink any more. I just want to go home.”

“All right.” Darren felt in his pocket for the car keys. “You have to take care of the sheep first, though.”

“They’ll be fine. They’ll wake up in a bit.”

“No, I mean the dead ones, love.”

They had learned the importance of savaging the carcasses early on, after an unfortunate segment on the evening news about the mysterious dead cows that a farmer had found in his fields, exsanguinated but otherwise unharmed. Since then, Theo had made sure the scene could be mistaken for a wild animal attack.

“Oh—right.” Theo glanced down at the sheep beside him. He swallowed hard, like the thought of biting back into flesh was making him feel sick. Then he spoke in a thin voice, “This pasture is pretty far out. A coyote or something will probably get the bodies before the farmer finds them.”

“Let’s just go then, if you’re feeling that bad.” Darren crouched beside Theo and slung an arm around his waist. Theo winced and hiccuped as Darren’s hand brushed his swollen belly, and again when he was hauled to his feet.

Their borrowed Toyota wasn’t far away. Darren let Theo lean heavily on him as they crossed the dark field. Theo often had trouble walking after a big meal, but something was different tonight. He was unsteadier than usual, breathing harsh and uneven.

Suddenly, Theo stiffened and stopped short.

Darren didn’t even have time to ask what was wrong before Theo’s fangs were sinking into his shoulder.

Darren sometimes let Theo take a bit of blood from him, but that was always slow and controlled and intimate, a careful prick of Theo’s teeth on the soft skin at the crook of Darren’s elbow. This was Theo in animal mode—plunging deep and drinking to drain.

“Theo! Stop!” Darren gasped, trying to pull away, but Theo’s jaws only clenched harder. So Darren grabbed him by the hair, wrenched his fangs out, and gave him a rough shove that sent him sprawling onto the grass.

“What the hell?” Darren shouted. “What the hell was that?!”

Theo rolled into a crouch, teeth bared and dripping—and for one petrifying moment, Darren was certain he was about to die.

But then Theo blinked and shook his head. His eyes went wide.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

Then he retched.

“No, no—keep it down.” Darren dropped to his knees beside him. “You need it, love. You need what’s in you.”

Theo panted weakly and pressed his lips together, eyes squeezing shut.

“Keep it down. There you go. Good job.” Darren wanted to hug him, but was afraid to get close. “Are you… are you okay?”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Theo croaked. “I don’t know—I don’t know why I did that….”

Darren touched his injured shoulder. His fingers came away damp and sticky. “We can talk about it later.”

“You’re hurt, Darr, you’re really—”

“It’s all right. You didn’t get much.” Darren pressed a hand tight over the wound. “You look awful, Theo. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I guess I’m kinda, uh… I feel dizzy. And too hot….”

“Maybe you’ve caught the flu.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Theo crossed his arms over his stomach. “Ugh, I ate too much.”

“Let me clean myself up and then we can go, okay?”

Darren got the first aid kit out of the back of the Toyota. He gave the twin punctures in his shoulder a thorough cleaning and then taped a gauze pad tightly over. His shirt was stained with blood, so he wrapped it up in a spare plastic bag and left it in the trunk, zipping his coat up over his bare chest.

Theo was waiting for him the front of the car, slumped against the window. He sat up straight as Darren climbed into the driver’s seat.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, eyes wide with anxiety. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t.” Darren smiled, even though inside he was starting to feel the shock of what had happened. “We can talk tomorrow. Let’s just go home and get some sleep.”

They didn’t speak much during the drive. The car was silent except for the cough of the old engine and the periodic rumbling from Theo’s stomach.

“Still feeling sick?” Darren asked after a particularly loud gurgle.

“I’m just… really full….” Theo was half-asleep in his seat. “Kinda got a stomachache.”

“Poor thing. Maybe you’re lamb-tose intolerant?”

Normally, Theo would’ve groaned at the corny joke. Theo always groaned at Darren’s corny jokes.

But tonight, he just said, “Eating sheep didn’t do this to me last month.”

“No, it didn’t.” Darren bit his lip and turned his attention back to the road.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time they pulled up at Theo’s apartment complex. Four flights of stairs later, Darren deposited his feeble boyfriend and his overnight bag on the couch. He kept some things at Theo’s place, but always brought a bag with him on these weekends because a fresh change of clothes was generally necessary after night of blood and animal dung.

“Right,” he said. “You want the bathroom first or should I go?”

Theo was staring straight ahead. He coughed and spoke in a strained voice.

“Darr… I can smell your blood.”

The words hung in the air. Darren felt a chill down to his bones.

“Thought you were full up on sheep, love,” he said quietly.

“I am. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Can you—can you sleep at your place tonight? I really don’t want to hurt you again.”

The chill transformed into sick dread. “Theo, you’re not well, you shouldn’t be alone. I could sleep on your couch.”

“I’ll still be able to smell you.” Theo wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I might get up in the night and—and—who knows? I just want you to be safe….” His lips twisted strangely, and Darren knew his tongue worrying at his fangs, like it often did when he was stressed. In the silence, he heard the two words Theo had left off the end of his sentence: from me.

“Okay,” he relented. “But promise you’ll call me if you need me?”

“Mmhm. Of course.” Theo finally met Darren’s gaze and smiled tentatively. “Sorry to make you drive home at this hour. You’re the best and I love you.”

“It’s fine. I love you too.” Darren met his boyfriend’s smile with an equally shaky one. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Darren blasted the radio all the way home, hoping it would drown out his thoughts. It didn’t. As soon as he had the car in park, he was fumbling for his phone, opening his messages.

Home now, he typed. You sure you’re okay? You seemed so ill earlier, I hate leaving you alone.

He sat in the darkness and stared at the empty screen for about a minute before sighing and unbuckling his seatbelt. No use being paranoid. Theo had probably fallen asleep, like he’d been on the verge of doing all night.

Darren’s bedroom felt dark and lonely. He tried not to think about it as he stripped down to his underwear and then went to brush his teeth. In the bathroom mirror, he caught sight of the gauze on his shoulder—already soaked through with blood—and gritted his teeth. Vampire wounds were designed to bleed. He should probably redo the bandaging.

A sudden noise echoed off the tile as his phone buzzed against the counter. Darren swiped it up and read the message from Theo:

I’ll be fine. Stop worrying you dork.

- - -

Theo rolled over and pressed his pillow over his head, trying to keep the sound of his own heartbeat out of his ears. His stomach churned, threatening again to reject the unwanted stuff it was so very full of. He groaned and wrapped an arm around it.

Even through the pillow, he could hear it making noises. They were not low gurgles of digestion but sharp, painful growls.

Theo had been a vampire long enough to know that his body didn’t always make sense. As sick and bloated as he felt, he knew the cramps in his heavy, swollen stomach for what they really were.

Hunger pangs.

Please note that I’m not taking any new requests for the moment. Thanks for reading!

[gruntadminloch-moved]

Is there anything that could be considered 'triggering' to Loch? Anything he sees/hears that instantly brings up bad memories?

Ask my muse extremely personal questions. (meme | askbox)

((Plenty of things, I’m sure!  Something I’ll say for sure hit him like from an ooc perspective–I was reading @bigcalavera and @doktorschaedel‘s smut thread from i think a week ago??? and I believe in one of Branden’s tags it was mentioned that Branden was a virgin and, in the same context, “training” him came up and my muse just kind of

stopped

which was HILARIOUS because otherwise the thread was like

you know that gif with the little emoji like this that’s kinda glowing pink and i think it has a flower and the characters making it up are wiggling a bit it looks kinda like this?

（／∇\）

That’s basically Loch like 99% of positive interactions between a Guzma and his s/o. He’s so happy for Guzmas in love he’s so excited to see them?? so happy to see them loving each other and being possessive of each other and just so much happy for them.  And that thread was no different up until THAT PARTICULAR SENTENCE and he just kind of.  stopped. like he was a gear going at a million miles an hour and then HARD STOp. and I had to stop reading a bit to retrieve him AND THEN THINGS WERE FINE AGAIN but

okay hold on lemme slap a cut in her CW FOR SEXUAL ABUSE OF A CHILD I CANNOT REMEMBER THE WORD FOR THAT RIGHT NOW but if you skip over that one wall of text down there you should be fine just y’know that’s what’s directly under that break

SO LIKE IF YOU ASK LOCH HOW HE LOST HIS VIRGINITY HE WILL PROBABLY NOT TELL YOU(he’ll kind of ramble on about something in an implicit kind of way but it’s not a straight answer it’s just him freaking out a little–I guess the memories of losing his own virginity is kind of triggering) but the truth is that when he went out on his own between being discouraged from it, from most sorts of self-independence, and never having had gone to trainer school and thus not having had been taught how to survive on his own in the world as a trainer and such…he kind of…never learned to say no or not trust strangers.  he’d just let people take him wherever. it’s part of the reason it took him years to get any of it done. he just let strangers control him. so as you can imagine this led to some. not so good for a 12-year-old situations.  And as a person who was told his purpose was to please others he just sort of allowed himself to be “trained” as a sexual object by an amount of hs abductors–it’s why he’s actually pretty good when it comes to sex at present day.  Normally sex alone would be a triggering subject but he maintains that people-pleasing view to this day so it’s adapted into a positive thing…even though he’s possibly never had consensual sex before fucking Jacks. Unless a Guz he’s interacting with would’ve asked that of him.On that note, trying to strip him without prior consent or him welcoming it in some quantity(for example, it was okay when Jacks was doing it because he wanted to fuck Jacks anyway) will probably make him lash out. If you call him a freak/weird/etc in the context of his sex(like, his body, not like kinky kind of freak) that might get a trigger reaction. The notion of revealing his sex to Guzma may throw him into a panic–gangs treat homosexuality as a weakness, god forbid his boss find out he’s got a vag. Sure, Skull is very accepting. But that’s still something kind of foreign even for a lot of medical professionals.

OH SPEAKING OF MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS any like. experimentation and things of that nature concerning his body will probably make him freak out.  Don’t threaten his dick either it’s all he’s got to make him feel even remotely male.

Other things uuuh buildings collapsing or getting crushed. The cries of Tapu Bulu, Tauros, etc-bull-noises, when unanticipated(he doesn’t see the source of the sound.)  He’s probably had some negative experiences with Pokémon he was training so he may have a triggered reaction to being personally attacked by certain Pokémon.  Failure and disappointment, especially when it comes to a Guzma or someone else considered a superior of that level.  THREATS OR EXPRESSIONS OF ABANDONMENT/DISOWNING/ETC might get to him depending on his relationship with you.  The sight of overgrowth makes him uncomfortable. Something like spontaneous plant-growth might send him into a panic so he’s not super fond of grass types but in general they don’t frighten him.  Being vulnerable will mess him up, especially in a gang violence or street violence situation.  Take his Pokémon(even if you leave him with his sister) and you’ll shake him up a lot too, especially if they’re injured or fainted.

He probably doesn’t want to be near Tapu Village or Haina Desert for extended periods period.

A lot of people screaming will probably unnerve him, but I think, at this point of being part of a gang for I think I said seven?? years? He’s managing.  People screaming’s just part of the job now–at least, as long as he knows why they’re screaming.

Also Lusamine has much of the same power of him as Guzma does, even if he doesn’t want to admit that.  While Lusamine won’t like trigger him or anything on her own, if she gets mad at him or disappointed in him or something similar he’ll probably be similarly shaken up. Oh or if she like says he has to come back to Aether or anything like that.

He’s probably a little bit shaken up by the treatment of experiment Pokémon under Aether, so torturing Pokémon may be too much for him.  Using Pokémon to torture people? Fine.  Actually tortured Pokémon will throw him.  ESPECIALLY if you want him to do it.  But it also depends on the kind of torture–training-abuse and breeding-abuse will just upset him, I think.

Oh and someone who matters to him decrying him as useless probably will.

Shockingly enough physically punishing him will probably be okay? In particular if he knows what he did wrong.

Things like that?  I think I left trigger territory at some point but, uh, that’s how you make him uncomfortable if nothing else.