#pin cushion stim

[cutiepieautistic]

Cole (dragon age) stimboard

×/×/× ×/×/× ×/×/×

[pinkanonwrites]

Oh my god being Starscream’s personal bottle fairy sounds like a dream (or more accurately a nightmare but that’s okay we love him <3)

Imagine being constantly hung around his neck, his fingers idly rubbing at your bottle light it was a stim toy, the threat of being able to be squashed just between his fingers at any given moment always hanging over you. He flicks at the bottle teasingly— tinking the glass with an ear piercing sound that rings around you louder than it ever could to him— grinning down at you and calling you pet names, as you were his dear little pet.

And god imagine the chaos when he’s gesturing grandly, not even thinking of the little thing hung around his neck as he moves forward dramatically. You’re slammed from side to side within your glass prison, trying desperately to find your balance, but the glass is too slick for you to lay your hands on stably.

Anyway sorry I went off on this ask I just got very inspired HAHA. I love the fairy idea hehehe

Relic you NEVER need to apologize cause I always love it when you go into detail on your thoughts!!! You're so right, he'd be absolutely terrible.

Desperately pinning your hands and feet to the sides of the bottle only slightly cushions the blow each time Starscream makes a broad, sweeping gesture with his arms. You're battered, bruised, and thoroughly rattled by the time he retreats to his private chambers for the night, uncorking the jar and shaking your addled form into his palm along with a spritz of fairy dust. He handles you just carefully enough to keep from puncturing you with his talon-like fingernails, but not much more than that.

"Well now, little pet," His grin is sadistic as the point of a single nail digs under your chin, forcing it up in an awkward strain as the rest of your body is gripped tight in his fist. His eyes glow with barely-restrained delight as you shiver in his grasp. "How shall we spend our evening, then?"

[perplexingluciddreams]

Cushion mending

I recently part-way mended my special cushion that I have since I was quite young (don’t remember exactly how old, but have sleep with it under big pillow for a LONG time). I also put it under my knees in my swing, so it is squished into a weird shape from that, and also have big holes where I rub my hands as a stim, and where the fabric just get so thin over time and wear down. I struggle to describe my process so I will let the images and image descriptions speak for themselves!

Before pictures:

[image description: a well-loved medium sized cushion. It is squished into a strange shape, the fabric is wrinkled and it has several holes, mostly near the top two corners. It is mostly red and pink, with squares of different patterns on it and white lines of stitching to divide them, making it look like a faux quilt. There is four different kinds of floral patterns, some gingham check in white and red. There is also some red squares with big white polka dots, four in each square apart from where the design is cut off at the edges of the pillow. In some patches the fabric is a lighter colour because it is so worn, and there is loose threads hanging off in some places. End ID.]

[image description: close up picture of the top left corner hole on the cushion. The fabric and the wadding is worn through, there is a bigger hole in the fabric layer and a smaller hole in the wadding layer that is attached to the front inside of the cushion. It is hard to see where the wadding is because of the bag of stuffing inside the cushion being the same colour, white. The fabric is thin and bare and the edges around the hole are frayed. End ID.]

[image description: close up picture of the top right corner holes. There is two holes at this side. The bigger hole is similar to the one on the left, but a bit bigger and a bigger hole in the wadding layer. It is also closer to the edges. The smaller hole underneath is mostly in the fabric layer, with only a bit of damage to the wadding layer underneath. The wadding layer is mostly not visible for the smaller hole, because the loose frayed threads from around the edges cover it. You can see the weave of the fabric and how thin the threads are. End ID.]

During pictures:

[image description: a square of denim with blanket stitch around its edges to stop fraying. End ID.]

[image description: close up picture of a square of denim pinned right-side-down onto the inside wadding layer of the corner of the cushion, covering one of the holes. There is part of a row of small neat stitches and a needle halfway in the fabric. End ID.]

This is what this side looks like from the outside:

[image description: the top left corner hole, from the outside. The edges have been trimmed, and there is blue denim showing through in the hole in the wadding. There is a needle with pink thread starting a small running stitch around the perimeter of the hole, and a couple pins keeping everything in place. End ID.]

[image description: a close up of the inside of the other corner, with a slightly bigger denim square now sewn down. The outside edges are sewn onto the existing outside seam with a very tiny running stitch, and the edges that are attached in the middle of the front panel are sewn with a whip stitch. You can see lots of lines of light pink thread dotted about in the middle of the denim square, which is where the wadding and frayed edges is secured down. End ID.]

[image description: top left corner hole from the outside, the edges are wadding have been secured with pink thread. There is random small stitches in the wadding that is visible. Blue denim shows through the gap. End ID.]

[image description: the top right corner holes, from the outside. A darker blue denim shows through several small gaps in each hole. The edges and wadding have been secured in the same way as the other side. End ID.]

Next step:

[image description: a close up of the front of the cushion, the fabric is folded under itself several times in an unplanned way. The white stitched lines that are along the edges of the patterned squares is deliberately unraveled in some places. End ID.]

I did finish unpicking the white stitching, but that is where I got to with the mending so far. I plan to do more securing on the outside, and reinforce the fabric where it is thin and fragile. I also might do some embroidery to “fill in” the gaps for the patterns. And I will redo the white stitching, but I want to add an extra layer on the entire inside of the cushion, because even at the back part it is thin and I worry that it will just fall apart. And it is very special so I will be devastated if that happens.

More updates will come when I manage more sewing! I have more things to mend, too, like Marmalade’s dress (Marmalade is my beloved teddy bear that is older than me and I have since birth), and my special safe grey hoodie that I wear almost 24/7 (really, that much, even to sleep!).

[build-a-bear-altershop]

hi!!!!! we love your packs so so much. can we have a dealers choice alter? just totally whatever you'd like to do? if that's too broad, a cat-themed webcore alter who uses neoprns and has a bunch of transids is an alternative. thank you so much!!

This has absolutely nothing to do with a cat themed website alter, but you did say dealers choice so I hope it’s alright ^^’

2 for 1 Special!

Buggirl

Name: Buzz, Beetle, Ant, Adalia, Adrena, Danuria

Age: 14

Gender: Bugthing, buggender (specifically beetlegender)

Pronouns: shx/hxr, wriggle/writhe, bzz/bzz, inch/worm, ant/ants, 🪲/🪲’s, 🪨/🪨’s, 🍃/🍂’s

Orientation: Questioning (But likes girls and has a crush on the aliengirl if you introject her ^^)

Species: Buggirl

Role: Pin cushion, vault, therapia

Cis-Ids: Bug, green skin, chitin covered, can fly, wings, sarcastic, funny, ADHD, braces

Trans-Ids: TransNerd, transBloodcolor (red), transBraceUser, permateen, transBPD,

Likes: Other bugs, playing outside, making ‘potions’, long baths, fronting with aliengirl

Dislikes: Loud noises

Pos. Triggers: Bugs and insects

Sign off: ;🪲

Aliengirl

Name: Nova, Astra, Cassiopeia, Amalthea, Selena, Elara

Age: 14

Gender: Girlishian, spacegender, spacejunkfeminine, spacecoric, alienic, psygender, gender hoarder

Pronouns: shee/heer, sol/star, sun/suns, voi/void, uni/verse, glow/glow, orb/orbit, second/minute/hour, 🌝/🌚’s, 🌒/🌘’s, ⭐/🌟’s, ☄️/☄️’s,🌙/✨’s,🔋/🔋’s, 🛰️/🛰️’s, 🛸/🛸’s

Orientation: Questioning

Species: Alien

Role: Peacemaker, perceptionalist, optimist, receptionist

Cis-Ids: Autism, alien, green skin, loud, outgoing

Trans-Ids: transADHD, transStarPupil, permaFronting, transTall, transOCD

Likes: Space (of course), stim boards, makeup, psychedelic music, buggirl <3

Dislikes: Any rude or annoying people

Pos. Triggers: Aliens and talk of space, other systems splitting new members

Sign off: ;🪐

picrew

- mod 🐠

[too-hot-to-hoot]

Blue-tinted country arts and crafts moodboard. Bonus:

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[paradoxkinspace]

Self Care for Nepeta Leijon with blue, green, cats, and stim toys

Cat Sweater |  Paw Cushion |  Flexi Cat Fidget

Tangle Jr Classic |  Grey Cat Enamel Pin |  Click Tracks Fidget

Cat Bath Bomb | Tabby Fidget |  Blue Raspurry Slushee Slime

💫

[siriusmydeer]

hello! i hope youre doing well today, i was wondering if you could write a lily evans x reader smut? i dont have anything specific in mind but maybe something with a mommy kink? if not thats fine too😌

thank you sirius black

lily evans x fem!reader

summary: lily punishes you for flirting with sirius.

word count: 791

warnings: like 1 degration, wlw sexies, dom!lily, sub!reader, JAMES BUT NOT JAMES SLANDER?, squirting, edging, overstimulation, mentions of alcohol, mentions of parties, mommy kink, possessive kink, marking/hickeys, fingering, clit stim

a/n: i wrote this on my laptop bc my phone wasn’t working but this was fun to write

“mommy.. more please.” You whimpered into the redheads tresses as she dangled above you, watching you 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙘 beneath her. “please, please.. I need more.” You continued to beg to her, her angelic figure pressed against your own flushed and sweaty torso.

“hmm angel, I don’t know if you deserve it. you’ve been a 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡.” she purred into you ear, with a kiss below.

“flirting with sirius like that? You hurt my feelings, angel.” she pouted at you mockingly. you knew she was doing this on purpose, making you squirm, rising goosebumps all over your nude body, she was enjoying the effect she had on you.

you had been in the gryffindor common room a few hours prior to celebrate the quidditch win the gryffindors had just endured. to where you were now, except now you were laying beneath your doe-eyed girlfriend while she teased your cunt edging you, and overstimulating you but alas not beyond enough to push you over the edge.

james and all his attempts to scoop up “his precious lilyflower” had taken up most of the night, despite him knowing she was in a relationship; and his darling little lily pad has a girlfriend.

you needed her attention, so you were going to get it in a way she liked it or not. after a few too many shots of fire whiskey you had gained a little drunk confidence and strutted, well more like drunkely wobbled, over to the tall masculine brunette hanging off his arm like one of his one night stands.

he ended up figuring out your little mind plan to get your girlfriend to pay attention to you. after zoning out in the midst of her conversation with the bespectacled boy, her brown irises focused on you almost sitting on the brunettes jean-clad thigh. a pit of fire and jealousy had blossomed beneath her belly.

you were 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨, you are 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨. so the only logical thought she had bubbling in her brain was to get you out of there and have you all to herself.

henceforth, that is how you ended up in the position under her, eyes lidded and body soon to be limp under lilys control as she edged you over to your 5th potential orgasam.

“do you think you’ve learned your lesson, baby?” she smiled at you, she was 𝙨𝙤 enjoying this. her soft thumb went to rub small circles against your overstimulated clit, a bubbling sensation already forming in the pit of yours stomach.

“ahh- mhm.. yes, yes mommy.” you hissed, and a loan moan sprouted from your lips. you repeated yourself to her, trying to please her; in an pathetic attempt to earn a reward from her.

her soft pink-cushion lips, plump from kissing all over you; sponged kisses across your collarbone and your breasts, with little sucks of red and purple hues across your chest.

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

her dainty fingers teased at your entrance, your whines occupying your lips urging her to continue to please you.

little mewls were escaping your lips as she continued pulsing her two fingers in and outside of you, and continued her torture on your clit. with her remaining hand she pushed her hair to the side and made an attack on your breasts, sucking dark shades of purple onto your reddened chest.

she wasn’t just doing this out of arousal, she wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. lily wanted sirius to know that at the end of the night you were in bed with her, gaining pleasure from her and only her.

one day she knew that you would reciprocate this gesture when james tended to get to handsy, and that she’s counting down the days till her eyes are rolling to the back of her head trying to make sure everyone knows you possessed, her as your own, as-well.

you have always belonged to each other, most people were aware of that, but the day james realized she belonged to you, was another day you were waiting for.

you could feel the pleasure of pins and needles on your cunt, your moans that came straight from your throat growing louder and your breathing becoming deep and heavier maximized at the rush about to take you in.

“mommy, let me cum, please let me cum.” tears brewed in your waterline from pleasure, as you begged for a release.

“cum for me, y/n, be a messy little girl and cum all over my fingers.”

Immediately you let your release go all over her fingers, coating them and with your release. she looked at you in awe, she had never been able to do that to you before.

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙪𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧.

[eroticcannibal]

I'd been wondering just recently about why my childhood (non-sexual) pressure stimming and the pain-related daydreams I'd make up to go with it (stuff like "I'm trapped in a rockslide" or "I'm a dragon who's been wounded and I'm gonna lie here on the couch pretending to be dying while the knight who stabbed me has a change of heart and tries to save me") seemed to directly evolve into sexual fantasies about being crushed/pinned down/stabbed while being raped. The pressure-stim-to-violent-kink thing makes so much sense, actually.

Oh hey same! I was OBSESSED with physical restraints and pressure as a kid. I'd lie on the ground and pretend to be one of those ladies tied to a train track, cus the sensation of restraint is just so stimmy (plus fear is fun!). Was also big into our Steve irwin games where we'd take turns being the crocodile and try and catch each other, which usually involved pinning each other down with cushions lmao. Big fascination with fort boyard and the restraint in that too

And yeah now I'm like. Full of restraint and rape fantasies dhshne. Being pinned down make brain go brrrr

[debiteful]

A little collection of various creatures seeking comfort in the night. Lots of sleeping preds, lots of soft vore, a few nightmares, and many concepts!

Dragon's Cave

A dragon seeks comfort in their partner's pouch after a bad dream.

Content: same size, pouch vore, male dragon "pred", female dragon "prey", sleeping "pred", detailed belly bulge(/vacuum sealed prey)

Little Comfort Goes a Long Way

Having trouble relaxing, a giant turns to his little friend.

Content: size difference, soft vore, safe vore, mouthplay, male giant pred, nb tiny prey, unaware vore

Soothing Snack

A little bear his giant friend is having some disturbed sleep, so he goes in to give her favourite kind of affection.

Content: soft vore, giant female pred, unaware pred, tiny male prey, belly rubs, anthro bear characters, painless digestion, reformation

Unaware Saviour

A frantic little family hides from danger past the maw of a sleeping dragon.

Content: unaware pred, willing prey, multiple prey, fear/running, magic protection, soft vore, safe vore, humanoid prey, dragon pred, first person pov

Dragon's Cave

Kiln fought her way from slumber with difficulty. All night dreams had plagued her, though upon waking all the details blurred out of memory. What remained was a feeling of unease and danger. 

She whimpered softly and considered her options. Supposedly flipping a pillow would help, but that had never worked before. The best choice was probably to seek comfort in her partner.

She cuddled close to him, burying her face in his chest. His deep breaths were nice, each rise and fall of his chest brought some calm. He hardly stirred despite her movements. Still, she felt so exposed. Even close to him, that left her back facing whatever might be lurking.

She really didn't want to wake him, but she wanted to get some more sleep herself. So, with stealthy, gentle movements she slipped her hands into the leathery pouch that ran along his underside. She pulled it open gently and lifted her legs to get them inside one at a time. She wriggled her way in, feeling the stretchy exterior accommodate her bit by bit. In went her tail, then her torso, and finally her head and shoulders. She wiggled down to the bottom, feeling his body now enveloping her completely. The outer wall clung to her form, but the inner side was soft and cushioned her body as she curled up.

Yes, here she could relax. Guarded on all sides by her sleeping partner, she began to relax. Her breath matched his with ease, each one letting her rise and fall along with his chest. His heartbeat boomed softly somewhere above, very audible from her intimate vantage point.

When morning came, he woke up first. At first the lack of Kiln beside him was alarming, but he quickly noticed the pressure against his middle. He peeked under the blanket to see her curled form within his pouch. He lightly traced the outline of her face with his fingers then rubbed her shoulders and side. He didn't know why, but he was fine with giving her whatever she needed, even while he slept.

John fidgeted in bed. His mind was full of the business of the day. He chewed at his lip and hummed softly to try and give it something neutral to focus on. Sadly it was tenaciously clinging to the worries for tomorrow.

Little Comfort Goes a Long Way

"Pip?" He called softly, "Are… Are you still awake?"

"Hmmmn?" A little head popped out of the box on his side table. They rubbed at their eyes and mumbled, "Sure, why?"

"Sorry," John whispered. "Its just, my mind is so full. Could you… help me?"

Pip smiled, interrupted by a big yawn as they crawled out of their little bed. John was always amazed at how nimble they were, sprinting across the blankets at this late hour. They crawled right up onto his nose and asked, "What can I do?"

John licked his lips. He gave a little sigh, "Well uh, y'know I like to stim with my mouth, so maybe you could go in and-" 

He was cut off by a pair of little legs cramming themselves past his lips and into his mouth. With a surprised blush he opened his mouth a little wider, letting Pip fall in.

His tongue caught them easily, their body sticking a little to his saliva covered tongue. He rubbed their little body against his hard pallet, feeling their form run along the smooth ridges. His mouth watered, soaking their clothes and making the movement even easier.

He pushed them to one side, giant molars pressing against each side of them as he chewed gently. They grunted softly from the pressure, and reached up to almost hug the upper tooth. Their hands rubbed at the gum whenever it was in reach. He hummed softly, the happy sound reverberating all around his tiny prey.

He parted his jaws and let Pip roll back into the middle of his mouth. His tongue arched then pressed down on top of the tiny person, trapping them down against his saliva glands that gushed fluid all around them. The tip of his tongue scooped them out of the slippery pit behind his teeth and let their body roll back towards his throat. They flailed a little, trying to find a hold on his tastebuds. 

Before they could fall into his throat, he pinned them up against the roof of his mouth. There they were held as he sucked out saliva and swallowed it. The suction all around held them frozen and once it stopped they wriggled around.

John yawned, letting in fresh air for Pip. However it also signaled he was finally getting tired. He let his jaws relax and curled up more comfortably in bed. Pip settled in the giants cheek, nestled beneath his teeth.

Once they heard John's breathing slow, they crawled up and slid into his throat. The muscles knew just what to do on their own, closing around Pip's little body and dragging him down. Being in a belly was much more comfortable than going to bed soaked in saliva. The little person nestled into the warm fleshy folds of the giants stomach and joined his friend in sleep.

Theodore looked up from his snug place in Marti's hold. Her soft white fur obscured his view, but he could feel the sleeping polar bear kick and twitch. Every now and then a soft whimper escaped her. The little brown bear wriggled from his powerful partner's hold and nuzzled her cheek.

Soothing Snack

Marti could hardly see above the waves. They rolled and crashed all around her, every one threatening to bring her down. She kicked out and paddled to try and stay afloat.

Theo knew just what to do to calm her down. He tried to gently part her jaws, gasping softly when she tried to turn away. Waking her wouldn't be great, but it would be better than whatever she was dreaming about.

The waves buffeted her face. It felt as though they were trying to force their way inside. She tried to keep her mouth closed, and failing that, push them back out.

Marti's tongue slipped out from her mouth and pushed at Theo's face as he forced his way in. Her long, sharp fangs pressed against his back, harmlessly chewing at him. Her tongue fought against him but he pushed his way in, reaching her throat. She coughed, but then, began to swallow. Powerful throat muscles dragged the doll-sized bear into her throat. The slimy walls of flesh rippled all around, dragging him deeper towards his goal.

The waves were too much, they forced their way into her mouth. In a last ditch attempt, she swallowed them, desperate to keep the water away from her lungs. Wave after wave went down her throat, and soon her stomach felt tight and full. The water within felt so warm, and somehow the waves continued to move, as if a living creature.

Theo reached her stomach and stretched out, pushing his limbs against the soft, wrinkled walls of her belly. He began to work his paws along the slippery surface, rubbing gently but firmly. The walls oozed fluids, but that just eased his work. Sure they would slowly dissolve him, but that would just add to the benefits she gained. Eith determination and affection he massaged her growling gut, feeling the rest of her body still and her breathing ease.

The waves within her were wild, but the ocean around her calmed. She had swallowed up all the activity! Now she floated peacefully in the warm sea, the waves in her belly giving pleasurable rubs. Now she could get used to this.

When she finally awoke, she remembered only the tranquility and delight from the dream. She was a little alarmed to find Theo not in her arms, but the pressure in her gut explained it all. The little fool must've hardly slept! She rubbed her fluffy belly with a big paw, feeling the fluid within slosh and resist softly. He'd be out soon, and then she could thank him properly. For now, she was going to take advantage of his kindness and get a little extra sleep.

"Run! Faster, faster!" I called. I risked a look back to see my friends- no family- hot on my trail. Just behind them I could see those glowing eyes. "Come on, come on," I urged.

Unaware Saviour

They panted and stumbled after me, running as fast as they could. We wouldn't stay ahead for much longer. I didn't want to meet whatever vicious creature was behind those eyes. Thankfully I knew a place.

There! Just ahead yawned the stony mouth of a cave. This particular cave was the home of someone who would certainly give us protection. I stopped at the entrance and gestured with my staff, "Get inside! Just keep going I'll be right behind."

They ran past me. One, two, three, that was all. I fired a glittering bolt of energy behind me then took off running after my people. Their footsteps echoed all around, but soon another sound drowned them out: snoring. Just our luck!

I put on a little more speed and passed them so I could reach the dragon first. I didn't waste time trying to wake the beast, instead swirling my staff then casting the spell at it. A glowing hand pried its jaws open. The faint light cast an eerie glow over the sharp, white fangs and saliva covered tongue.

The others stopped around me, casting anxious glances back. I decided to not waste time on convincing and stepped into the gaping maw. A wave of moisture hit me and its shores roared all around. One by one my family followed. 

I let the glowing hand dissipate, and the jaw snapped shut around us. We all ducked reflexively. 

I waved my staff, sparks flying harmlessly off of it until there was a steady blue glow. It lit up the faces of my companions, each one panting and tired. I tried to smile reassuringly and a couple of them flashes little nervous grins in response.

"So this is it?" One asked.

I shook my head, "We have to go further."

"Further..?" The littlest squeaked.

I nodded and took my glowing staff in both hands. I closed my eyes and focused hard. Slowly a shimmering bubble appeared at the tip. It expanded bit by bit, until it engulfed all of us, the bottom bent against the soft tongue at our feet. I tapped my staff against it and opened my eyes just in time to see the bubble flash and harden.

They looked around at the spell with amazement, and one of them muttered, "What is it?" 

"Protection. From the acid that is. Wouldn't work against," I gestured to the front of the mouth vaguely, "Whatever is out there."

They nodded and I pushed the bubble forward with my staff. We glided over the dragon's slick tongue towards the throat. I looked around at the muscles that flexed gently with each giant breath it took. Hopefully this would work.

I pressed our bubble forward, the walls pressing against the powerful muscles all around. I held my breath.

The dragon swallowed. Its throat contracted all around us, squishing the tough but flexible bubble. It held up! 

We were knocked from our feet as the bubble slid down the throat, each new swallow threatening to crush us all. Finally our protective orb popped out into the cavernous stomach, floating along gently in the fluids. We sank to about half way up the bubble, but it managed to hold up. All around the dragons insides gurgled and groaned. The wrinkled walls of smooth flesh shifted gently, glistening in the faint light cast by my magic. 

I sat down and opened my arms, "Come here crew. Let's get some rest. I'm sure we'll have some explaining to do in the morning."

They all gave sleepy nods and settled in a pile, cuddling eachother and me. I leaned against the wall of the bubble and tilted my hat over my eyes. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Just Right: Chris

CW: Head-banging stim referenced, stimming in general in a negative context, derogatory language about stimming, referenced past abuse/noncon, institutional whump, referenced whump of a minor, conditioning, memory loss, traumatic deaths of family referenced, traumatic memory recovery, getting glass out of  foot referenced

Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxck-fxck, @slaintetowhump

PREVIOUS (COME BACK)​

No one comes back.

He waits and waits, but no one comes back. People stand on the sidewalk, for a while, the old lady and her grandson and some other people besides. Chris doesn’t listen to them, although the sounds filter in, bounce around his mind, occasional words and half-formed sentences that he doesn’t want to understand.

Instead, Chris focuses as hard as he can on the memory of Jake promising Chris won’t be left alone. It’s difficult to focus - he’s scared and didn’t sleep last night, and the birds are loud outside and there’s so much glass that catches the light and bounces pretty white reflections off all the walls - but he tries, he tries so hard, to remember that Jake won’t make him be alone forever.

They can’t keep Jake away forever.

Can they?

The people leave. Breakfast is there, and lunch, and dinner, right on the porch where the old woman said they’d be. Chris drifts through the day, and his thoughts cycle and circle and he can’t keep them still long enough to decide what to do beyond just… staying alive. He has to stay alive. He has to wait. 

The first night, he doesn’t sleep. He waits, and waits, and tries to remember how to calm his thoughts, but nothing comes.

All he can think of is that Antoni and Leila were supposed to wait for him, but it took too long, and once the door broke down they had to go. Somewhere they’re safe, somewhere else, with the other ones, the ones Chris has heard about but hasn’t met. Kauri, who never sits still, Kauri is safe, too, somewhere else. Chris is the only one left.

Chris is the only one here to wait.

He tries to clean but he doesn’t remember how to do it very well. He washes the dishes in the sink, he can do that - and he empties out the coffee pot, full and long-since gone cold, and sets the coffee up for the next day, even though he knows no one will be here to drink it, but maybe if he makes the coffee someone will come back.

The first day, he brews the coffee, and no one comes. But maybe the second day will be different. He dumps the pot again and goes through the motions.

They destroyed the house and the television is turned over and shattered all along its front, they cut up the couch cushions even. Nothing is the same, and everything is wrong. Chris tries to sweep up the glass in Jake’s room from the lamp and steps in it instead, letting out a wild, high-pitched cry at a stab of pain straight up his leg. He can’t get the glass out, he’s too scared to touch it, and he hobbles around leaving bloody trails everywhere he goes, limping, whimpering and wishing there was anyone, anyone left.

If Jake was here, he’d sit Chris down in the bathroom and use his cell phone as a flashlight and use tweezers and Chris would watch him stick his tongue out a little like he does when he’s thinking really hard about something. Then Leila would fuss over him and Antoni would sing him songs in Russian, which Antoni doesn’t know anymore but still remembers the songs. Chris doesn’t know what Russian looks like, but he knows the sounds of the notes Antoni sings, the way his mouth shapes the letters.

Tak byvayet - staneshʹ vzrosleye ty

I, kak ptitsa, vvysʹ uletishʹ

Kem by ni byl, znay, chto dlya mamy ty 

Kak i prezhde, ilyy malysh

Chris is bad at remembering things and bad at knowing words and bad at most things, he thinks, sometimes, but when he does remember something it pops in fully-formed, and he remembers Antoni singing the songs to himself, songs he doesn’t remember in his head but his body still knows, anyway.

See, we are still in here, Antoni says, tapping the side of his own head with one finger, flashing a smile. They didn’t take it all out, it’s only hidden, Chrisha.

Why do you call me that?

I don’t… I don’t know. But I will, Chrisha. I will know, soon, and I’ll tell you once I do.

But Antoni can’t tell him, because he’s gone. Everyone is gone. There’s no one but him, now.

He’s alone, and he’s not made to be alone, they told him he couldn’t be alone or he’ll suffer and shrivel up and die, and Chris hits his head on the wall and taps his fingers desperately on the floor and cries into the hardwood, but none of it helps, because he’s still alone when he stops tapping, stops hitting, stops listening, when he stops.

All alone. 

Just like last time, some dim part of him remembers, but there wasn’t a last time, and he doesn’t know what he’s thinking about. It’s just part of the cycle of too many thoughts at once, dipping in and out of his conscious mind. It’s just another thing that slides in and around the calls of the birds and the rustle-clatter of a squirrel leaping across tree branches, the splashing sound of something in the birdbath in the yard, Doves mean peace and pigeons get no love, but they’re the same bird, baby, just a little different coloration. That’s you, honey, just a different way of being in the world and we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure you out, little dove-

He doesn’t know whose voice he keeps thinking of and he misses her so much it’s a physical pain inside his chest, making his mouth open to cry long after the tears have dried. He makes strange dry sobbing sounds, hiccups really, that come with no tears but grief pours from him in a wave, grief that he didn’t know could still be in there for a woman he doesn’t remember, doesn’t recognize, has never met.

He doesn’t know who she is and it’s his fault she’s gone.

His fault Jake is gone, they were looking for him, he knows it somehow. It’s certainty, deep in his bones. They always said if he ran, someone would find him and bring him back to Sir, and he was so good, he didn’t run, Miss Megan asked him to get in her car and Baldur was always so good for guests, and, and it’s not his fault but it’s his fault Jake is gone.

He can’t think, the circles run too fast, there are too many thoughts and not one will let him pin it down. Instead they bounce and jump and leap and crash and bash the inside of his skull, tired not tired hurt my fault not my fault where did he go come back you promised you promised you’d come back don’t leave me I don’t know where I am I don’t know how to do this the squirrels are loud today the birds are quiet do the birds know did the mourning dove know you’d be taken away from me too just a different way of being, honey, mom come back mom don’t leave jake don’t leave me alone you promised you promised you promised you promised

you promised

No one comes back. Not the first day Chris is alone, not the second.

Chris falls asleep, eventually, after the sun goes down on the second day. He curls up on the floor near the spot of dried blood, wrapping himself in Jake’s blankets until even the floor beneath him feels nearly soft. He lays his head down on Nat’s pillow and Jake’s, too, breathing in their scents and tapping on the floor, on himself, on the wall. 

He won’t leave the last bit of Jake he can see, the spot where his head hit the wall. He’ll stay right here, in the house, and stay close.

He fell asleep beside the blood before, too, in the thing he can’t remember, the reason for the pain so deep in his chest, twisting his heart in knots until he wonders if people can die like this, can die of pain in their hearts that comes from inside their heads.

Sleep is thin and drawn, it’s the way he slept in training, and Chris shifts and murmurs and cries in his dreams, blood and bone and bits of worse gray bits on the wall, screaming woman shouting man men with guns, but they turn the gun on him, the men, and they say what the fuck is a kid doing here? You have a kid, you goddamn bastard? 

And Jake is the shouting man and he is yelling of course I have a fucking kid, what did you think all the fucking trophies were for, did you think I’m the one who’s gonna be in the Olympics?

Flash and burst of sound, deaf in the dark. Chris flinches in his sleep, from moments that aren’t real because he doesn’t remember them, and false memories happen when you’ve been erased. It’s not real. None of it happened. It’s not real.

The phone rings in the early hours of the morning - there have been two sunrises since they took Jake and Nat away - and wakes him with a start, but Chris doesn’t dare answer it. He only stares at the old bit of plastic and wiring that hangs on the wall as though it might come to life and bite him, and eventually it stops ringing, the answering machine picks up, and whoever called hangs up without saying a thing.

Chris falls back asleep.

This time, he doesn’t dream.

The next time he wakes up, he can hear murmuring voices, and he goes still and quiet and tense on the floor, keeping his face turned down, letting his hair hide his eyes so no one will know he’s awake. 

“Shit, they did a fuckin’ number, didn’t they?” It’s a man’s voice, rough-edged and angry, and Chris fights the urge to curl in on himself, to hide all the soft parts and hope he will not be hit or kicked or hurt for being bad again. 

“Why would they do this?” A woman, and her voice is softer, sweeter. Chris swallows. They were only a few female handlers, but they spoke in quieter voices and were meaner, too. So much meaner, even when they didn’t have to be, even when he tried to be good. “What were they trying to accomplish, Ruth?”

“Y’know damn well.” That’s the old woman whose grandson has brought him food, and Chris carefully shifts around. They don’t know he’s right where he can see them, the pile of blankets is wrapped so tightly it looks like nothing more than another pile of the debris left behind. He moves just enough to look, through his hair, at a small crowd of people just outside the broken front door.

His eyes struggle to understand, but they seem to be holding… plastic buckets, and mops, and other things for cleaning. The thoughts bounce and jump, but he tries to grab on, to grasp them even though his heart is sick with fear and his mind wants to tumble after it.

“It’s fear, is what it is,” The first person, the man, snaps. “They want us to be fuckin’ afraid to be like Natalie, that’s what they want. I’m not afraid of them.”

“Easy to say when you don’t have kids to worry about,” The younger woman, maybe Jake’s age, replies, but she doesn’t look scared to Chris. She looks strong. She looks brave, holding her mop and bucket with a little baby strapped on her back, staring into the house over her shoulder, scruff of dark hair standing up nearly straight on its little rounded head.

“My Wilbur went through some of this,” The old woman - Ruth? - says, nodding firmly. “There’s no shame in fear, but there is shame in lettin’ fear keep you standing outside the door when there’s work to be done. Jaden’ll be back with his little friends to help in a bit, I’ve promised ‘em all the pizza they can eat. Now. This door isn’t locked, but it does make a hell of a screamin’ sound, so I think we’ll prob’ly wake the poor thing up, wherever he’s hiding.”

The woman’s eyes roam across the walls, then catch on the spot of Jake’s blood on the wall. Chris feels a wild urge to yell don’t look at it, that makes it real, but he doesn’t know why. Instead he curls up tighter, tapping under the blankets against his own skin. Finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, finger-twist-tap-tap-tap.

Now, Baldur, honey, you know better than to do that. I don’t like it when you do that, do I?

No, Sir, no, y-you, you don’t, you don’t like when I, when, when when when-

Baldur. Silence is better than stammering.

… Yes, Sir. I’m sorry my… words are bad, Sir.

That’s better.

Chris bites down hard on his lower lip, catching the protest before it can be spoken out loud, because the woman he doesn’t remember said you have to talk or no one can hear you, and Nat always says to speak how he wants to, and Jake says his words are fine, they’re fine, he’s fine even if he’s not the way they are, he’s fine he’s fine he’s not fine and Jake is never coming back but he promised, he promised, he promised-

Something about his movements must get her attention, because he hears the woman in the doorway catch her breath. “He’s right here, Ruth.”

Chris slowly raises his head. His foot aches where the glass is still stuck inside it, and it protests as he pushes up to sitting and has to move his legs, keeping the blankets wrapped around himself, pushing his back into the wall. 

“Oh, baby.” Ruth smiles at him, one of those sad smiles you give people when you feel sorry for them, and Chris pulls further into himself, dropping his head back against the wall, taking the momentary feeling for the comfort he so badly needs it to be. “I’m back, honey. I brought you some sausage biscuits for breakfast, and I brought some friends, too. This here is Naomi, she lives on your left in the house with the blue porch ceiling-” The woman with the baby waves the mop in a kind of greeting, nearly knocking the angry man in the head. “-and that’s her little girl Kaelah. And this touch of grump is Jefferson, he lives right across the street.” The angry man waves, too.

Chris, tentatively, raises a hand to wave back, his fingers just barely bending at the knuckles.

“Now, I know you’re scared, honey, I understand, but we’re here to help you clean this place back up before your people come back. Can we come in?”

Chris’s eyes roam from one face to the next, looking for signs of cruelty, looking for the kind of smile his Sir would give him. He sees nothing but openness on all of them - Jefferson with the bit of anger, but it’s not really at him, it’s at the house, what happened here. Naomi with her slight smile for him, and her little girl Kaelah grabbing at fistfuls of Naomi’s hair and sticking it in her own tiny mouth to chew on. Ruth, the same wrinkles and gray-and-black hair, the same open kindness, compassion, looking at him with the same look she’d given her own grandson the day before.

They wait, and eventually Chris presses his lips together and nods. The door scrapes loud along the floor, and he flinches back from the sound, pulling Jake’s blanket as tightly around him as it will go. 

“I’ll take the living room,” Jefferson says, his eyes roaming over the shattered television, the cut-up couch cushions and stuffing littered everywhere. “Ben and I bought a new couch a week ago, the old one’s just been sitting in the den while we figure what to do with it. I’ll call some people, have it moved in here.”

“We got a TV we don’t need in our bedroom,” Naomi says, looking around as well. “I’ll start in the-…” Her eyes move to the open-framed doorway to the kitchen, staring at the shattered wreck of ceramic, the little path that Chris had made by pushing all the wreckage to the side. The coffeemaker with its full pot still piping hot, untouched. “… we got extra plates, too, I’ll get those. I’ll call my girl Kari, that woman’s a hoarder waiting to happen and she’s got half a whole house sitting on her porch taking up space. Did they leave this poor kid anything?”

Chris clears his throat, swallows around the nervous lump there, and says, hoarsely, “Th-they, they, they left the, um, the, the food in the fridge.”

“Well, that’s a small mercy and I’ll say a prayer for that,” Ruth says, stepping inside herself, rubbing her hands together, a wedding ring with a diamond glittering on her left hand. “Let’s pray the Lord shows His mercy on the ones who did this.”

“I don’t see why we should,” Jefferson snaps, already in the living room, his boots crunching on something before he lifts his foot to sigh. “Glass is fucking everywhere.”

“We should pray for the Lord to show mercy,” Ruth says, in the voice of a woman who will brook no appeal, “because I sure as hell wouldn’t. Leavin’ a boy here in this wreck all alone.” Ruth screwed her mouth up like she might want to spit. “Imagine it, just imagine leaving a boy here all on his lonesome.”

“Th-they… they didn’t know, know I was here,” Chris says, softly. “I was hiding. I have a hiding place.”

“Hiding,” The man says tightly. “You hear that, Miss Ruth? Hiding while they fuckin’ trashed everything around him. Fucking hiding. You know who else had to fuckin’ hide in goddamn-”

“Don’t you curse the Lord’s name near me, young man.”

“… sorry, Miss Ruth.”

“Besides, I know, Jefferson. If you think I don’t know damn well… but gettin’ ourselves all worked up won’t help this boy in the here and now, will it?”

A muscle twitches in the angry man’s cheek. It reminds Chris of Jake, even though they are so different, Jake all blond hair and scruffy stubble and Jefferson looks like a cowboy in the movies Jake watches late at night, skinny-hipped in worn-out blue jeans with a giant belt buckle and hard-lined set to his jaw. But the anger - the deep-down rage - that’s the same. 

It’s not rage he has to be scared of, but rage meant to protect him, and Chris’s heart twists in a good way this time. 

“Yes, Miss Ruth.” Jefferson frowns.

Ruth sighs, her eyes roaming, taking in the enormous task ahead of them. Well… we’d best get started, the day won’t get any younger.” She holds out her hand and Chris looks up at her, hesitating before he lets her take his hand and help him onto his feet. He stands with one leg bent, to keep the weight off the glass still embedded in his heel. Jake’s blanket falls down around him to puddle on the floor at his feet. “Baby boy, what are you wearing?”

In the kitchen, Naomi is already on the phone, speaking to someone in hushed hurried tones, while baby Kaelah bats happily at her mother’s shoulders with her hands, legs swinging bare out the sides of the carrier she’s settled in.

Chris looks down, then back up. “Wh-what I, what I always wear to, to to to sleep in.” Jake’s shirt, the one he’d shoved into Chris’s hands before, before, before-

Before they took you away from me.

“Sweetie, you look like a toddler tryin’ t’wear his daddy’s clothes,” Ruth says gently. “Y’got anything left of your own, or did they tear that up, too?”

Chris shakes his head, slowly, his eyes moving to the stairs. “I, I have clothes. Um. I have clothes but, but, but but but I don’t want to, to walk on the stairs, it’ll, um, I have, I have, um, there’s there’s glass in my, in my, in my my my-”

“Glass in your foot?” Ruth asks, gently. “You step on somethin’, honey?”

Chris nods, balancing on one foot and twisting his other leg to show her the mess of his heel, with the glass still deeply inside.

“Oh honey, that had to hurt,” Ruth murmured. “Jefferson, can you-”

“Got it, Miss Ruth. You’re the CO on this little enterprise.”

“Don’t you ‘CO’ me, Jefferson, this ain’t the army.”

Jefferson laughs, and Chris feels like the walls are soaking up the sound, and his breathing eases. His lungs feel less constricted, less held still. He feels a little less frozen. He is aware without knowing that there was a time when no one came the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. 

But this time isn’t going to be like that. It’s going to be different, and he’s going to remember this.

Naomi pops her head back into the entryway. “Kari’s packin’ up, and I told them a bit of what happened - just that the cops trashed the place and left a kid behind, that’s all, they don’t know what Nat does. Kari’s husband wants to come help, too, and he’s bringin’ a buddy. Guy knows somebody who knows somebody in the movement, I guess. They’re callin’ around to see if any of the lib people will come on over to sit with the kid.”

“They won’t,” Ruth says, after a moment’s pause. “Unless it’s different than it was when Wilbur was in it. They’re islands, Naomi, always have been.”

“If a volcano blows up an island,” Naomi says, her voice edged with something Chris doesn’t understand, eyes suddenly hard and flinty, “You can’t tell me the other islands wouldn’t send some fuckin’ boats to find survivors.”

“Volcanoes are part of nature,” Ruth says, almost primly. “This isn’t natural at all.”

Ruth and Naomi share a long look, and then the woman and her baby disappear back into the kitchen.

“Ben’ll be over in about an hour, he’s calling in sick and setting someone else to take his meetings for the day,” Jefferson offers, breaking the moment of strange, weighted silence. “And I don’t work at the bar ‘til 6:30, so I got time. Ben says he’ll call a couple of people, too.”

Chris stares around at them, and feels tears stinging his eyes. He taps the inside of his wrist with his other hand, rhythmic, soothing the ache inside him, but it’s not quite the same kind of ache it was before. 

“Jaden’s bringin’ three or four of his little friends,” Ruth says firmly. “Which make us quite the crowd, and we can get this all cleaned up in no time, can’t we? And we got pizza for lunch. Jefferson, I don’t spend my good clean money on liquor, but you can, if you want.”

Jefferson laughs again. “Understood, Miss Ruth. Okay, little one let’s fix your foot-… hey, what’s your name?” He tilted his head, watching Chris with kind, dark eyes. 

Chris looks over at Ruth, who nods and squeezes his hands lightly, then lets go. The touch felt so good he nearly moves closer, back into it. He likes being touched, he’s supposed to like being touched, any way at all. “M-my, my name is, my name is, is is is Chris, my name is-… I picked the name, the, the name Chris, I picked it myself.”

His voice is low, worried they’ll laugh, but Jefferson grins at him, and it tugs a smile from Chris in return. “That’s a good choice, Chris. Now, look, we got half a couch cushion and I think that’s enough for your skinny butt. So take a seat, and I’ll get you cleaned up in no time.” He takes Chris’s arm now, helping him hobble his way into the living room, to sit slowly down on the undamaged part of the couch, holding his heel out for the man to take in warm fingers, pressing here and there, apologizing in a low voice when Chris hisses at the sharp stab of pain.

He taps hard on the couch, closing his eyes so he won’t see what happens, feeling a little faint at the thought of the clear glass shard coming out of his foot. Finger-twist-tap, finger-twist-tap, finger-twist-tap-

“What are you doin’ there, Chris?” Jefferson asks, and Chris stops.

“Nothing,” He whispers, keeping his voice slow, and careful. “Nothing, sir-”

“No fuckin’ sirs with me, I did that way too long in the fuckin’ army. Just call me Jefferson, thanks. All right, Chris, do whatever you gotta do, I’m gonna fix this as soon as I count to one, two, three-”

But he’s already squeezing hard on the count of two and Chris whines in pain as a sharp ache shoots up his leg from his heel, spikes, and then… lessens, lowers to a dim throb, hardly real pain at all. 

“Done,” Jefferson announces, brightly. “Now, let’s get you some shoes, so you don’t worry about stepping in anything again. You can come stay with me ‘til your people get back-”

Chris opens his eyes. “No.”

“No?” Jefferson’s eyebrows raise, and Ruth pauses where she’s working with a broom to sweep some crumpled papers in the entryway, looking over at the way Chris’s voice has suddenly gone stronger, harder.

“I can’t, can’t leave,” Chris says, looking Jefferson right in the eyes. Baldur, love, you know you should never meet a man’s eyes unless you’re going to-

“Why not?” Jefferson asks, confused, cutting off Chris’s nervous, cycling thoughts. 

“Because, be, because, because because he said to wait for him,” Chris says, a little louder this time, pulling his foot back and away from Jefferson’s hands, curling up on the couch cushion into the tiniest ball he can make himself. “Jake said, he said, he said to wait, and I have to, to wait for him. Right here. Until he, he comes back.”

“Chris…” Jefferson hesitates. “It could be a while-”

“Hush,” Ruth says, quick and fast the way the woman he doesn’t remember used to sometimes say things like that to a man he doesn’t remember, either. “Hush now. Not the time or the place, Jefferson. Not yet.”

“Yes, Miss Ruth. So you need to wait right here?”

“I have to wait for Jake,” Chris says, pressing his own hands against his stomach through the soft fabric of Jake’s worn-out old T-shirt, long fingers that curl into the cotton. “I have to wait for him. I, I, I said I’d wait, I said I’d wait, he promised he’d come back, and I-I-I, I have to, I have to…”

I have to do it the right way this time. Last time I did it all wrong and they died. If I can do it right this time, no one has to die. He doesn’t know where the thought comes from and it sinks back and away just as quickly. He flinches at the memory of a woman’s terrified face, his own voice screaming, and the realization that people can die with their eyes wide open.

“I have to wait,” Chris whimpers, and presses his palms up to his eyes to hide the tears that start to start to fall. There’s a pause, and then warm arms around him, holding him, but the arms aren’t right and the smell isn’t right and he’s alone, even with people in the house, he’s alone, he’s only not alone when he’s with Jake, and Jake is gone, and people have died when Chris did it wrong, he has to do it all just right this time-

Don’t move, baby. Just stay here, and it’ll be all right.

No! He’s just a child! Please, please, that’s my little boy, please no, please, God, no!

I’m coming back for you. Wait for me here.

“I have to w-wait, I have to, to wait, I have to wait for him, I have to wait…” The words bubble up unbidden, and the man holding onto him rocks back and forth, back and forth, and Chris rocks with him, crying into his shoulder, the man’s shirt damp with his tears. The women are silent, but for the sounds of their work, water pouring into a mop bucket and a broom sweeping across the floor. 

You are not hidden, there’s never been a moment you were forgotten - you are not hopeless, though you have been broken, your innocence stolen

Jake likes to sing to him, now, in his low bass voice, and he might never sing to Chris again, like the woman won’t, and how many times can he lose everyone before there’s no one left to lose?

The only sound now is Chris crying into the shoulder of a stranger, all the fear he cannot keep inside himself any longer wept out against his will, that somehow it’s happening all over again, and once more he’s the only one left in the house, once more there is blood on the wall, but he can’t remember when blood was there before and he doesn’t know why he’s so scared that Jake will die.

Just like the woman did, the one he doesn’t remember, the warm hand on his forehead when he was sick, the man the low voice murmuring, if you had a bad dream, you can crawl in with us, buddy, when he was young.

I will never stop marching to reach you in the middle of the hardest fight, it’s true

“I promised to, to wait,” Chris sobs into the man’s shirt, his skin, and feels the man’s warm hands rubbing soothingly at his back. “I promised to wait for him. He’s, he’s, he’s coming b-back, he said he’ll come back, he said to wait and I have to, to wait-”

I will rescue you

“He’s coming back,” Chris whimpers. “He’s, he’s, he’s coming back, he promised to come back-”

“I know,” Jefferson murmurs. “I know he did.”

I will rescue you

“I’m so, I’m, I’m so, so so so so scared, I’m scared, please, I’m so scared he won’t come back, please, please, I don’t want to lose anyone anymore, please, please get him back-”

I hear the whisper underneath your breath, I hear you whisper you have nothing left

“It’ll be okay, Chris,” Jefferson says softly, into his ear. “We’ll figure it out, and you can stay right here. We’ll figure this out with you, okay? We’ll… we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

“He, he, he he he promised, he promised, he-”

“I know. I know he did.” Jefferson swallows - Chris can hear it, feel the movement of his throat. “I know he did, kiddo.” There’s a pause, and then in a slightly different voice, Jefferson asks, “Miss Ruth, what’s our next step?”

The old woman is silent, and then says softly, “We clean the house, and we get this boy a bed to sleep in, right here where he wants to be. And then I guess one of us should figure out how to pay bail.”

The phone in the kitchen rings again, and Chris can hear, through his own low sobbing, Naomi’s voice as she picks up. There’s a low conversation, and the click of the phone resting back in its cradle. 

“We might not have to do this ourselves,” Naomi says, sounding odd, like her voice is caught in her throat.

“Why not?” Jefferson’s arms tighten around Chris, and he clings to him desperately, the warmth of human contact, the reassurance that he will not be left alone again. 

“Because…” Naomi’s voice twists with a wry humor. “Jake didn’t call his lawyer or his mom, Miss Ruth.”

“Then who did he call?”

“Uh.” Naomi clears her throat. Chris looks up, to see her looking stricken, staring at Chris as though he’s grown three heads. “He, uh. He called someone who called-… you guys ever see the movie Dimmer Switch?”

“Yeah, like… a million years ago,” Jefferson says, sounding baffled.

“I don’t see movies,” Ruth says, equally confused, though hers sounds more like irritation.

Chris’s heart twists, in his chest. Something like relief, but sharp as a blade, cutting him open, laying out all his hope for them to see and take and destroy, if they want to, like all of him was cut out once before.

It’s not gone, Antoni says, inside his mind, in his memory. They buried it, they built a wall, but we are still inside ourselves. You just have to dig deep enough, Chris.

This isn’t going to be like before.

“That was, uh. That was… some girl named Krista. She’s coming here. And she’s coming with a check from Vincent fucking Shield to pay their bail. We’ll have to go do it, because Krista says she’s… she’s one of them - the Boxies - she can’t go herself, they might recognize her.”

“Then I’ll go to the jail and get them myself,” Jefferson says, strongly. “I thought Vincent Shield just talked a big game in interviews, but that’s walking the walk, huh?”

“Oh, man.” Naomi sounds stunned. 

There’s a silence.

“Does that mean Vincent Shield has been here? And I was right next door to a fucking movie star and no one told me?”

Chris laughs, putting his hands back up over his face, burying himself in Jefferson’s shoulder. Krista will come to help him, Krista will come, and they’ll go get Jake, and Jake will come back, and it won’t be like before, mourning doves are just pigeons with a prettier name, they don’t mean anyone will die, no one has to die this time, you’re the reason Ronnie died, you should never have been born, but he doesn’t know that voice, either, who said that?

Someone, darker in his mind, a place he can’t go. A place that hurts but Chris tries to dig down into it anyway, follows the voice, chases it into the pain.

Thank you, it’s, it’s hard, but, but but but thank you for getting this for, for dinner, it-it helps, thank you-

Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do on a day like this, huh? 

A day like, like, like like like what?

 Nothing. Just thinking about tomorrow. Happy birthday, Tris-

His thoughts are interrupted by a flash of red in the window, the cardinal from before. It sits on the windowsill, briefly, looking in at him with one dark eye. Then it takes flight again, a burst of wings, and is gone.

He doesn’t remember what he was thinking about but it doesn’t matter now. He did it all just right, so no one has to die this time. No one has to die because of him, and Jake is coming back, and it’s going to be okay. Jake promised he would come back, and Chris promised he would wait right here.

They can both keep their promises this time, because Chris did it all just right.

He did it just right.

He was good, this time, and that means no one will die.

He can keep his promise, the last one he made to the woman he doesn’t remember when she was lying on the floor with her eyes wide open, to be good.

[straight-to-the-pain]

12, 19 and 20 for the sensory asks? - @whumptywhumpdump

12) Is nature sensory heaven or a sensory nightmare for you?

Honestly depends? I have hayfever so the outside world makes me sneeze a lot and I don’t like having insects crawling on me but lying down in a grassy field is really nice and I love bodies of water so, you win some you lose some.

19) Do you prefer proprioceptive or vestibular input?

I had to google that because I wasn’t sure what each of those entailed but uh probably proprioceptive? As a kid I used to like hanging upside down and swings and being picked up but like now I mostly just like being pinned down and being hugged tightly and people playing with my hair.

20) What would be in your dream sensory room or space? 

So in my primary school we had this sensory room called the den and that was pretty funky. I guess it would be a nice enclosed space, like a tent or a blanket fort (when I was a kid I had an ikea pirate fort with cushions inside it) and it would have some beanbags and cushions and maybe some stim toys and snacks and music,,, that would probably be nice,, but honestly I vibe in my room just on my bed a lot and it’s pretty good too.

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Please tell us more about the punk au that would be great

Okay, so i've covered the basics in this post, but rn i want to cover more of the character part because i have been having many thots abt it.

Party Poison

Horror punk bitch. Can quote Rocky Horror and Friday the 13th begining to end in their sleep. Gives off really pretentious vibes

Do they wear the same thing over and over? Do they have a bunch of identical shirts? Hell if anyone knows, Poison included. They just pick up the closest thing to their bed from the floor and that's the days outfit

They spend as much time as Kobra on their make-up and that's something when all you have to put on is concealer and eyeliner (goes for both)

Only goes outside for concerts or tagging along w/ Kobra and his friends because books and writing shitty poetry are a way better use of their time

Wear at least 5 different shades of black at a time. They are cursed with "can't match my blacks" hex

English major

Kobra Kid

Grunge bitch with lowkey skater boy vibes even if he can't skate for shit. Generally super chill unless you piss him off, then he will 100/10 deck you

Unlike his sibling he wears something different each day. Beanie king

Can and will drag Poison's ass outside because the fucker won't leave their room for weeks if he doesn't

He's almost never at home, usually bouncing around basements, parking lots and punk shows

He likes to put on minimal make-up and paint his nails because it makes him look cute

Will smack Poison upside the head with a couch cushion if they play Friday the 13th one more goddamn time

Their converse are all worn-out to hell and they have 3 different pairs

Art student

Jet Star

He's into the hardcore scene, but also absolutely fucks with some of the local indie bands. Can go from friendly to intimidating so fast

Wears the same black leather jacket he got for his birthday in his last year of highschool because it's got nice studs and a totally wicked back piece

He's both the person who'll call a cab for someone and the person who'll throw hands with some dick who's looking to start shit

He lives in a cramped apartament he rents with the money he gets from working at the bar which isn't much, so he's got like...three locks on his door just in case (not like he has much to steal, regardless)

He mostly wears a basic combo of plain shirt, jeans, jacket and boots, but if he wants to be a little fancy for like a date or something then he swaps either the jacket or shirt for a button down shirt depending on season

Law student

Fun Ghoul

Crust punk with major short asshole vibes

To be fair, his vest was made at some point of black jean material, but you can't see it through all the patches and pins. Has a bunch of chains on him at all times because they're nice for stimming

He's always behind some school building or at a shitty punk concert. Those are just his natural habitat

They live in band shirts and band shirts alone, even if 30% of them are so faded you can't even tell what they are supposed to be. That doesn't stop them from putting their own (albeit poorly done) designs overtop

His room is weirdly clean and impersonal, part because he's never there except maybe at night when he sleeps and part because his parents are very big on cleanliness and order

All his most prised belongings literally fit in a shoebox with plenty of space to spare because they're just a walkman, a few tapes and an old broken robot toy

Lived through highschool and was like "yeah, no, i ain't going through another 4 years of this shit"

Kobra and Poison's parents are often in and out of the house, so the siblings are often left to their own devices.

Jet doesn't talk much with his family because they're all busy with work and life, but he always comes over for holidays and that's one of his favourite times of the year.

Ghoul's parents are usually home around the time Ghoul themself is, but they usually tend to avoid them because they'll always comment on how they look "like they crawled out of the grabage disposal" or "like a boy" and that they should go change into something "appropriate"

[stimtoybox]

Hey there. I love this blog. Would you by any chance know of any stimmy toys related to German Shepherd dogs, or Fallout 4 (or Fallout games in general?) or Captain America. Right now those are my big special interests but I’m struggling to find anything besides my homemade weighted plushie

Thank you so much for the compliment, @wolfprxnce​!

Unfortunately, I am the worst person to ask for anything game related–in fact, for a great many things fandom related, but digital games are my worst area of complete ignorance. I just don’t have enough knowledge to know what toys best relate to them. I’m thinking that some of the fandom-themed or regression shop blogs might be able to give you better help in this area, because their mods are usually much more up on toys and how they relate to fandom.

If you have an extremely-specific interest, it might be worthwhile doing an Etsy search with “[name of special interest or fandom property] fidget” or even just the name of the property. For example, I searched “Fallout 4” and scrolled through a variety of different poster and prop listings, and found a few things this way that look potentially stimmy to me. Because Etsy has a lot of handmade items, it’s a good way of finding if anything exists, although non-US folks should be aware that Etsy often has higher shipping costs and sellers that don’t ship worldwide.

Fallout 4

Set of 4 Wooden Coasters (look to have lots of texture for fidgeting)

Character Cushions

Pony Bead “War Never Changes” Bracelet

Souvenir Teddy Bear Replica

Cappy Plush

Vault Dweller Heart Keychain

Brotherhood of Steel Necklace Pendant

German Shepherd

I did the same thing with German Shepherd and found many more things than I expected:

Retractable ID Badge Holder (I stim with these by pulling on the cord!)

Floral Enamel Pin

Textured Chain Link Bracelet

Textured Necklace Pendant

Dog-Shaped Pillow

Chain Link Charm Bracelet

Kawaii-style Milo Pin

Crochet Plush

Charm Keychain

Rex Crochet Plush

Textured Locket

I am also going to direct link you to an Etsy search for German Shepherd plush, because there are a few options! On the same theme, Amazon also has a good many suggestions.

Captain America

We’ve covered Captain America before, so I’ll first mention posts that have Cap-themed fidget items. If you’re after things like fidget cubes, chewables and spinners, Captain America will be your best bet for combining special interest and stim.

Zuru Marvel Fidget Cubes (post links: one, two). I’ve found these in Toys R Us and Zing Pop Culture stores here in Australia. (Note: both stores have affiliations with Autism $peaks.) I’ve also found a direct listing on Amazon, which may be the easiest way to purchase.

Knock-Off Marvel Metal Spinners (post link: one). This listing is on Banggood, but you can also find these on eBay or Wish.

ARK Therapeutic Super Star Chew Pendant (review by @pink-rainbow-sparkles​). If you do a Google search for “ARK Therapeutic Super Star Pendant” you should get a list of any retailers local to you. This is available in a range of colours and three different chew strengths, so it should be suitable for most chewers.

There is also a wide, wide range of Captain America spinners, including shield-shaped spinners, tri-spinners with the logo on the cap, metal spinners and triangular spinners. Here’s a link to an eBay search, with most of these spinners under $10 USD. Likewise, Etsy also has a good selection.

(Do know that most of these aren’t licensed items, if that is of concern to you.)

If you’re after plush toys, there is a stunning selection of handmade items on Etsy, including soft toys shaped like Captain America and animal toys like dinosaurs or sock monkeys in Captain America’s colours:

Shield Pillow

Funko-Style Pillow

Textured Minky Blanket Plush

Captain America Teddyvenger

Fleece Doll

Made to Order Handstitched Doll

Owl Plushie

Jewellery pieces include:

Textured Coloured Shield Pendant

Textured Silver Shield Pendant

Ball Chain Shield Pendant

Textured Dog Tag Pendant

Aromatherapy Diffuser Pendant

Scale Maille Bracelet

Chain Charm Bracelet

Collar Pins with Chain

Chainmaille Necklace and Pendant

Chainmaille Earrings

Mobius Ball Necklace Pendant

Spinning Necklace Pendant

(A note: I’m not linking the search for the jewellery pieces on Etsy because I had to scroll past “autistic awareness” pieces with the puzzle piece in the centre of Cap’s shield. If you decide to search for yourself, please know that this exists.)

I hope that gives you somewhere to begin. There really are a lot of Captain America pieces that are perfect for stimming!

[diyachemistblog]

Let’s Do the Diaper Step by Step

Diapering

It's essential to pick a protected spot to change your little one. Indeed, even belted onto the evolving table, they can wriggle directly off, so consistently keep a hand on your child. We put a stim-versatile over the changing table to keep our little one involved during evolving time.

At the point when I change my little girl, we have a changing cushion and all I require in a region on the rug. That way, I don't need to stress over my aerobatic girl arriving on the ground.

Before you really change (or put on) the diaper, it's insightful to have all that you'll require convenient and in a protected spot (out of infant's compass).

Checklist:

•  Clean diapers (a couple, simply in the event that a tab rips off or it gets grimy right away)

•  Diaper wipes (Luvlap Wipes)

•  Diaper removal unit (diaper bucket, Diaper Genie, garbage bin or sack)

•   Diaper cream (discretionary)

By and by, I don't utilize powder (in any event, when it's hot) since most child powders appear to get powder all over (and we don't need infant to inhale that) and have cornstarch in them. The cornstarch can go about as nourishment for some sorts of microorganisms (like the ones that cause yeast diseases). Powdering is, nonetheless, up to you!

Step by step:

Here are my diapering tips, one step at a time.

1. Make sure that your hands are spotless.

2. If you're changing child in a store's changing station or even in the vehicle, have a fabric down under the little one... to be safe.

3. Undo the pins/diaper cover (in case you're utilizing fabric diapers) or detach the tapes on the expendable diaper.

4. Check and see the substance of the diaper. In the event that it's particularly untidy, I like to have a couple of additional wipes (or a fabric) holding on.

5. If there's a defecation, utilize the front of the diaper to pull the wreck towards the child's base. At that point overlay the forward portion over the back, keeping the solid discharge inside so the infant's base lays outwardly of the front of the diaper.

6. Next, purify the diaper zone, taking consideration to clean all the folds and moving the wreck towards the infant's base. (Continuously wipe young ladies front to back just to stay away from UTIs and different diseases.) If you're changing an infant kid, you'll need to secure yourself, and different spectators, by keeping a diaper (or material) over the child's penis. No one can tell when nature will call, and in some cases cooler external air will trigger the need!

7. With one hand, hold your child tenderly close to the lower legs, and lift up the infant's legs to clean the infant's base. Once more, trying to keep a diaper covering the infant kid's penis.

8. Apply treatment if essential and check for redness (or abrading or the territory where one of the diaper tabs may have scoured and blushed the child's skin).

9. To put on another diaper (Huggies Diapers and Mamypoko Pants), lift the infant up so you can slip that new diaper directly under the infant's behind. This is effortlessly refined by delicately holding the child by the lower legs with one hand, and sliding the rear of the diaper (for those of you utilizing expendable diapers, the rear of the diaper is the side with the tabs and no improvement).

10. Next, secure the tabs to the enlivened strip on the facade of the expendable diaper. Recall not to make it excessively close, and ensure that you position the tapes so they don't contact the infant's skin. In case you're utilizing fabric diapers, pin the corners together by utilizing self locking pins and putting your fingers between the diaper and the child to shield infant from getting jabbed.

11. Check and ensure that the diaper covers the child's behind completely and isn't too close on the legs or stomach zone. Ensure the edges of the diaper haven't been tucked under.

12. Dispose of the filthy diaper and wash your hands.

13. Now you're prepared to get your little one dressed!

[xylophonespine]

Oh goodness sorry it took so long !!

Okay so

a lot of people have already talked about this headcanon, but Davey cannot sit still for the life of him, he's always fidgeting, and most of the time it'll be subconsciously, he's just very jittery in general

he plays with his hands in very specific patterns and motions to self-soothe when he's nervous or anxious

quite sensitive to textures. not the biggest fan of scratchy things, and has a problem with stuff like cushions with tears in them

on that note he also has certain preferences on what materials his clothes be made out of, though because he knows what his family can afford he tries not to be picky. but he really really likes linen clothes

(few years after strike since airplanes were invented in 1903) hyperfixtion on aviation. he'll go to the library and check out books about it, whenever there's a story in the papes about the latest aircraft developments he'll be sure to buy one. sometimes he'll just sit with jack or sarah in his room, books all sprawled out on the bed and floor, and just infodump all this knowledge about how certain aircrafts work, how they fly, the distance they can go on average, the altitude they can reach, what he'd do if he was an aviation engineer, and just marvel at the photographs in the papes and books he has. he has almost encyclopedic knowledge and it's awesome

pins up pictures of famous aviators in all of the rooms he'll ever live in, it just makes him so extraordinarily happy

"why?" kid™

likes to roll things between his fingers a lot, like marbles, and clay if he can find it

colorful lights are a big visual stim. that's why he loves going to medda's theatre or hanging out in jack's "penthouse", just to see the lights and feel the ambiance of the theatre, or peer down on nyc as everything begins to light up at night

always irons his clothes every night, wrinkles and things bother him, it's just an annoying sensory thing

sorry it's not a lot but i'm kind of writing this while in a time crunch so i might add more!!

Autistic davey jacobs my beloved

wait i have so many headcanons running through my head do you mind if i share ?? :)

[nieloxychen]

Hey if i dont have an interest in anything ill just force myself lol should i sew some? I wanna make a pin cushion... or does anyone have stim or moodboard requests? (reminds me ive got the one from anon still so ill do that first)