#this year was a fucking nightmare but it will make us all stronger for the future to come

[sirenium]

I hate being loveless. Send post.

[doli-nemae]

It’s already 2023 in Ukraine, but Sweden is one hour behind so I’m not very late

This year was... Something. I don't know how to describe this year, to be honest. The only thing that I'm going to tell is that I'm grateful for all your support and that you continued to follow me even after I changed a bit content here. Thanks, folks

Was this year a fucking hell? Yes. Do I regret to live through it? No. What doesn't kill us - makes us stronger. One way or another

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — five. harmless.

pairing: hotch x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. or: fbi gala goes wrong. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. no use of y/n. wet dream with lots of smut on this one btw. i will never proof read anything. word count: 2.3k

previously

    Hotch is at your door once more, perfectly dressed in his matching black suit and tie, dress shirt impeccably white. It’s tailor fitted to his body as he had recently started to do to all of his suits. You told him once before that it makes him look more mature, but the compliment came with lust in your eyes, that’s all he remembers now whenever he’s wearing them, even if both of you chose to ignore it at the time. 

    His cheeks flush bright pink when you open the door and his eyes glance down on you, dark blue dress–almost black. It hugs your upper body tight, your cleavage is more exposed than what he has seen in years. You gnaw lightly on your bottom lip, trying to contain a chuckle, a laugh. You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen him blush.

    He can feel his cheeks betraying him, but his worries are somewhere else entirely, focusing on trying to clean his mind so the rest of his body wouldn’t fail him too, quite the complicated feat as he was reminded of the dream he had the night before, how sweaty he had woken up because of you.

    The annoying squeaking of the bed should’ve been enough proof of the fact the sounds you two were making wouldn’t be concealed. It should be enough to get your senses back in line. It should be enough to remind you both where you were. In a hotel room, working on a case. 

    It wasn’t enough, not for Hotch, not when you surrendered so easily to his touch, not when your hair was glued to your forehead making you look like a goddess, one he was more than eager to adore. 

    He kissed some of your moans away, delighted to be the one causing them from how deep he was slamming his cock in your wet wet wet cunt. Wet for him. Clit throbbing under his thumb. Clenching around him enough to make him whimper in your ear. 

    His mind is too far gone, he doesn’t remember how it got to this point finally, but he’s too busy to care, his hands finally able to roam through your bare body with no inhibitions, griping hard on your flesh. There’s no place he would rather be, nothing else he would rather be doing. No one else he would rather have with him. 

    Chatter begins to fill the room, but he’s the only one to notice it, the female voices shifting his focus while yours was still on him, nails sinking down on his strong shoulders. 

    “At least you’re not married to him.” He knows this voice, last time he heard it was in video tapes, frames of happier times, Haley.

    His body stiffs, you move against him, legs wrapped around his waist, hands grasping his ass and forcing him into you. He moans but looks around the room, trying to understand what’s happening.

    Why is he hearing Haley’s voice? 

    “Still, right in front of me? Not a nice guy move.” And… Beth? 

    Beth. And Haley. Sitting on a couch? Observing you two fucking. 

    His head drops in your shoulder, realization running him over like a truck, “This is a fucking nightmare.”

    He’s hard when he wakes up, wet with his precum, dizzy and in need of release, he jerks himself off to thoughts of you, even if guilt shreds him apart, the sweat gluing his hair on his forehead as he imagines your lips and your throat struggling to take him are stronger. 

    His plans for the night don’t change even then, it’s why he’s at your door. 

    It wasn’t a date after all. You were merely his plus one because your formal invitation got mixed up due to your transfer. It wasn’t a date. Sure, you could easily go as any of the others’ plus one, and sure Beth was in town and should’ve been his companion for the night. 

    But it wasn’t a date. Even though the way your dress clanged to your body, the way he could smell your special occasions perfume and the smile you gave him made him wish it was. 

    “Guess we might get a bigger budget for the BAU.” You love when he’s flirty and you hate yourself for it, your heart skips a beat and you feel pathetic, the fact you’re not used to gala events and the heels you have on are way too new for your comfort makes it all that much worse. You take the hand he offers you either way, following him to his car. 

    Maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself be coerced into going, “well we better, I don’t usually do the whole begging for money thing.” Hotch laughs, and as always you’re reminded of how much you love that sound. How special it makes you feel to be the one able to genuinely make him laugh at the most innocuous of things. You grip hard into your bag as he opens the door for you, ever the gentleman. 

    You feel like flirting, the words dancing in your tongue, careful I might think this is a date. You don’t, too afraid of ruining it. 

    For a second you wonder if he’s still dating. Maybe he’s single. Maybe it’s finally your time. 

    But he keeps his hand far from your thigh in the car and his girlfriend’s name pops up in his phone while he’s setting maps up to help get you both at the damned gala. Everything is different and still the very same. You yearn for him and Hotch seemingly is always finding ways to run from what you could be. 

    The car ride after that is awfully awkward and it’s completely on you. He tries to spark conversation, and usually it wouldn’t be difficult to, you and Hotch always talked easily, it came naturally to the both of you. But you felt as if your voice was trapped, the silver necklace on your neck doing nothing but suffocate you. The side glances his eyes served you felt like burning holes in your skin. 

    Suddenly it’s 2005 and you’re a thirty something year old with a crush, feeling guilty for simply sharing a space with him. As if you would be divinely punished for your thoughts, your feelings, your light touch to his hand or the playful flirting. 

    You swallow it down, but the effort you’re making in trying to bury those feelings makes your replies to him come only in hums, nods of your head. Hotch gives up trying and decides some music is the ideal to get through the awkwardness, and it isn’t on purpose, really, it just so happens that his 90’s playlist was the last thing he heard. The strong feminine vocals you know well make you laugh. Loudly. 

    You’re still the one I run to, the one I belong to, the one I want for life

    “The one time the White Album would’ve saved lives and you’re listening to Shania Twain.” 

    “It’s a 90’s playlist, I didn’t handpick this, alright.” Tthe lyrics should amp up the awkwardness, make it all even more uncomfortable. But it doesn’t. Aaron’s laughing and you begin to sing along, as if the words didn’t mean anything, everything, to you and to him. 

    It makes the ride go from almost unbearable to fun, he sings with you to the best of his ability while still paying attention to the road and sooner than you both realize his phone buzzes in warning, you are at your destination. 

    “This is… Huge.” You’re in true awe as you leave the car, now weirdly comfortable to have your arm in his as you enter the venue, you recognize most of the people there, but it’s rare you see them in the same place at once. “And that’s not FBI.” You whisper, head pointing to a congressman.

    “You really don’t come to these a lot.” He whispers back right before shaking hands with said congressman, he doesn’t smile, but he is polite and introduces you. Luckily the chat doesn’t go for very long. “These events happen so we play nice. Then congress may just get us more budget instead of cutting it.” You roll your eyes at him, you know he doesn’t do politics so you’re not sure why he goes to these events. Still, you get champagne as a waitress passes by you and you sit at the BAU designed table where Rossi and Strauss already are.

    “I heard from your past superior that you don’t usually attend these, I’m glad agent Hotchner convinced you.” Strauss barely waits for you to get comfortable at the table, you don’t understand why she asked about it and your expression probably spoke for itself. “Seniority is important, show these politicians the years of FBI work, make them want to invest more in security, in the FBI and most importantly, in the BAU.” You nod slowly, taking your champagne in a mouthful and leaving it at the table, you notice none of the younger members have arrived and it hits you that they probably won’t come. 

    You look over for a waiter to get more champagne and see the table assigned to your past unit and remember your unit chief, the CNU chief, begging you to attend the last “FBI fund raiser” and how quickly you denied him because you didn’t want to risk seeing Hotch. Your cheeks burn.

    Aaron notices, of course he does, and puts his hand on your thigh and it’s comforting, warm, familiar. “What’s on your mind?” His voice is low, only you can hear, especially with Erin and Dave flirting on the other side of the table. “Champagne?” He asks again when you don’t respond, teasing your very light alcohol tolerance, you finally look up at him and realize how close you both actually are.

    His hand still on your thigh. His body lowered down as yours looked up. It feels impossible but he moved in closer, lips almost touching yours, breath mixing with yours. Hotch looks at your lips and you look into his eyes. “What are you doing?” Your voice is barely a whisper, is lucky that he hears it, but he definitely feels the warmth of you speaking along with the sweet scent of champagne.

    “Nothing. This is… Harmless. We are just… Talking.” He’s not a liar. But he is a lawyer at his core. He is good with technicalities. Technically you’re just talking. It’s certainly innocent if no lips are touching. 

    It could’ve been a minute or three hours but next thing you know there’s a slow song blasting through the speakers and Hotch is taking you by the hand, smiling sheepishly like a teenager. You find yourself another champagne, which you gulp down before the waiter can even leave your side.

    It’s all too easy, too familiar, his hands on your waist, your head laying on his chest as he leads. Exactly like the last time you two danced, he had been waiting for a slow song to be this close, no repercussions, no questions asked. This way he doesn’t have to pick. He doesn’t have to choose. 

    Of course by now you realize what he’s doing, the same pattern of behavior he did before, how he kept you close knowing he wouldn’t leave Haley. Except this time you couldn’t leave, you were demanded to be at the BAU. You take a deep breath and move your hands to his chest, separating you two and trying to put some sense into your thoughts, the sense that his cologne had drawn out of you. 

    Hotch tries to talk to you, ask you what’s wrong, but before he can do anything about it you’re headed back to the sitting area and without any manners you simply grab the first empty chair you find and place it around the CNU table, sitting together with your past unit so you wouldn’t deal with Aaron for the rest of the night.

    You have a fun rest of evening, talking, drinking maybe a tad much for a lightweight, getting teased by your ex coworkers about being a BAU hotshot and smiling at any congressperson who appeared at the table, talking about the good work the CNU put at the FBI. 

    The night only took a turn when Hotch came to tell you he was going home, “I see you’re having fun, a taxi might be better.” He sounds hurt but it’s still spiteful of him, you reply with a simple nod and hold in the tears you’ve been pretending you don’t want to let out for months already. 

    Lucky for you, Rossi watches the whole scene and takes your hand, making sure you don’t stumble on your own shoes–you’re very much drunk–as he leads you out of the venue and into his car. There, well, there you cry. You barely even noticed how Strauss was near the whole time or how she’s in the passenger seat. 

    Rossi is just glad he came driving, only one dose of scotch being his chosen drink for the whole night alongside some water and soda. If he wasn’t you would have to get a ride with someone else or a taxi home. 

    The way you were drunk and crying on the back of his car was annoying, sure, especially when he has a date he hopes to take home without the rest of the BAU knowing, but he saw you as his kid almost, he had to at least take you home.

    And even if you don’t remember. It isn’t the first time you drunkenly cry and speak of Hotch to him. And it isn’t like Hotch hasn’t done the same. 

    At this point it has happened so many times Dave might as well do something about it.

[doumadono]

Hi baby!! Mwaaah! I have an emergency request if it’s okay? Can you have either Bakugou or Touya (maybe him as just Touya or maybe Dabi? You can decide) where the reader is having such bad flashbacks of their abusive relationship before them that they can’t get out of bed and every little thing set them off in a way they starts to get worse with them flashbacks?

Touya & Bakugo with gn!Reader who deals with flashbacks of past relationship

A/N: I hope you'll enjoy these two short stories 💋

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

Touya

Touya sat by the edge of the bed, his pale fingers tracing absentminded patterns on the sheets. His partner, Y/N, lay beside him, their body curled into a tight ball under the covers.

It had been a rough night. The nightmares that haunted them were growing worse, and Touya could do little more than hold them as they trembled and cried in their sleep. 

Now, as they lay still, Touya watched over them with a heavy heart. ”Y/N," he murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair away from their face. "It's morning. You should try to get up."

Their eyes fluttered open, but the vacant, haunted look in them made it clear they were still trapped in the grip of their past. 

Touya’s heart clenched at the sight. He had seen that look before – in his own reflection, back when his life was consumed by pure pain and hatred.

"I can't," they whispered, their voice barely audible. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I feel his hands on me... I can't escape it. I can’t believe I spent so much time in such an abusive relationship… I should have tried to escape but I felt weak."

Touya’s jaw tightened. He understood the feeling all too well, the relentless grip of trauma that refused to let go. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. "You're not there anymore, Y/N. You're here, with me. And I won’t let anyone hurt you again."

They shook their head, tears welling up in their eyes. "It's not that simple. Everything reminds me of him. The sound of the door, the creak of the floorboards... even the way the light filters in reminds me of being trapped in his flat."

Touya’s eyes darkened with anger – not at them, but at the monster who had done this to them. "We’ll make new memories to replace the old ones. If you still feel trapped, maybe you should consider moving to another town, to leave the past behind?”

They looked up at him, hope flickering briefly in their eyes before being extinguished by fear. "What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m broken forever? And I distinctly remember you saying that “the past never dies”, Touya.”

Touya's breath caught at the mention of his own words, thrown back at him like a painful echo. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself against the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady, intense. "I did say that," he admitted, his voice a low, steady rumble. "The past never dies. It’s a part of us, a shadow that follows wherever we go. But that doesn’t mean it defines us." He leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against theirs. "I know you feel broken. Hell, I’ve felt that way for years. But look at me, Y/N. I'm still here. Still fighting. Because even though the past never dies, it doesn’t mean it wins. We get to decide who we become, every single day."

His fingers traced gentle patterns on their arm, a calming, grounding touch. "I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. It’s not. There will be days when it feels like the shadows are winning. But you’re not alone in this. We’ll face those shadows together." He paused, searching their eyes for any sign of understanding. "You’ve already survived so much, babe. You’re stronger than you think. And if the past tries to drag you down, I’ll be here to pull you back up. Every single fucking time."

Touya cupped their face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the callouses. "You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re healing. And healing takes time. Allow yourself to heal.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them filled with unspoken words of comfort and solidarity. Slowly, they began to uncurl, their breathing evening out as they leaned into Touya’s embrace. "Okay," they whispered finally. "I trust you. Thank you for being here for me, Touya.”

Touya smiled, a rare, genuine smile that was reserved only for them. "Always."

Bakugou

Katsuki Bakugou was not a man known for his patience. His explosive temper and brash demeanor were infamous, but when it came to Y/N, he was willing to wait. Wait for them to feel safe, to heal, to trust. 

Today, however, his patience was being tested to its limits.

He stood at the door of their bedroom, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Y/N lay in bed, their body trembling under the blankets. It had been a bad night, and the morning wasn't proving to be any better.

"Y/N," Bakugou called softly, trying to keep his voice gentle despite his frustration. "You need to get up. You haven't eaten anything for nearly two days."

They didn't respond, their eyes fixed on a spot on the wall as if it held the answers to their torment. 

Bakugou took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Losing his temper wouldn't help them at all.

He walked over to the bed, sitting down beside them. "Hey," he said more softly, reaching out to touch their shoulder. "Talk to me."

They flinched at his touch, a reaction that sent a pang of hurt through Bakugou’s chest. He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a fist to keep from lashing out. Not at them, of course, never at them – but at the memory of the person who had hurt them.

"It’s him," they whispered, their voice shaking, "I can’t get him out of my head. Every sound, every shadow… it’s like he’s still here, watching me."

Bakugou’s eyes flashed with anger, his mind filling with violent thoughts about the man who had done this to the person he loved the most. But he knew that wouldn’t help right now. What they needed was reassurance, not rage.

"He’s not here," Bakugou said firmly. "He’ll never hurt you again. I swear on my life, Y/N. You’re safe with me."

They turned their head to look at him, tears streaming down their face. "But I don’t feel safe! Can’t you understand that?! Everything reminds me of him. The way the door creaks, the shadows on the wall... I can’t escape it! I know I’m no longer in his hands, but goddammit, I feel like he still owns a part of my soul!”

Bakugou’s heart ached at their words. He wished he could take away their pain, fight off their demons like he did with villains. But this was a battle that couldn’t be won with fists and explosions. He took a deep breath. "Then we’ll change it," he said finally, determination in his voice. "We’ll get rid of the shadows, do whatever it takes to make you feel safe. We’ll make this place your little haven, does it sound okay?”

They looked at him with a mixture of hope and doubt. "What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m always scared?"

Bakugou leaned in, pressing his forehead against theirs while rubbing their shoulders. "Then I’ll be here, every step of the way. I won’t let you face this alone. We’ll fight it together.”

They took a shaky breath, their body slowly relaxing against his. "Okay," they whispered. "Together."

Bakugou nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Together."

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

We gotta give it up for the writers for making The Spot a scary-ass threat in this movie.

I'm serious, I didn’t take him seriously either at first, just like everyone else was. Just a run of the mill villain of the week that needed to be stopped from robbing a ATM

But once we see his backstory (which was insanely funny and clever btw), how he figures out how his powers really work and how he can get stronger, successfully gains more power, and we see his plotted out plan on how he's going to get his revenge on Miles....

I was scared, like I got scared of what he could possibly do next, cause sometimes he even does things with his powers that he never realized he could do, he's learning as he goes and that is pretty terrifying knowing that he have yet to see him fully use his powers to the full maximum level he can process.

Not to mention that he looks fucking scary after the Munbattan battle, him going from his white color pallette to a more black, rough, unsustainable form that looks like it was a drawing come to life, with his voice becoming more disoriented was the stuff of nightmares.

AND we didn't even see him carry out said plan when the film even ended. All we know is that he is now in Miles' home dimension and is about to carry it out SOON in the span of 2 days.

This is the same guy that got hit in the head with a bagel a year and a half ago....that is just wild.

I think they did too good of a job with him tbh XD

[gaydiation-poisoning]

Each version of Ganondorf and their best character strengths (imo) GO

Ocarina of Time

The OG. Kinda bland from a character and motivation standpoint, but he has a kickass and intimidating as hell design (I love the long hair post 7 year jump) He makes an amazing first impression by appearing in a nightmare, only to wake up and find that he's killed your dad in real life. That's a pretty solid motivation to go kick his ass up and down the castle stairs in a pretty damn cool final fight. He may be a little generic, but we wouldn't have the man we know and love without him.

7/10

Wind Waker

The BEST from a character development and motivation standpoint. This is a version of Ganondorf who learned from his past mistakes in Ocarina of Time, becoming far more patient and level headed as a result. He is a far older, almost melancholic seeming version of the character. Through him we finally get a glimpse at his (VERY UNDERSTANDABLE) motivations for why he did what he did, and why he continues to do it. He retains this new, calm demeanor until his dreams are once again ripped away from under his nose, and he loses control and falls back into his raging, violent self (in an almost CHILLING scene) and takes you on in an incredibly cool, if slightly easy, final fight. He also makes good use of his screentime for such a short game.

9/10

Twilight Princess

An alternate version of OOT Ganondorf, albeit one who, in contrast to his previous iteration, learned NOTHING from his mistakes in that game. He was stopped before his nefarious plan even had the chance to begin, and yet was STILL granted the divine power he was looking for in an act called 'the divine prank', resulting in his botched execution becoming his banishment to the realm of Twilight. There, he proves himself to potentially be the most resourceful version of the character, using the suffering of Twili people to grow stronger and manipulate a vessel into serving him and setting him free. He may be back to having very little motivation or character, but he has instead poured all that energy into being the most menacing motherfucker on planet earth. He shows this off brilliantly in a gauntlet of a final battle. He is however, held back by a severe lack of screen time.

8/10

Tears of the Kingdom

The newest addition to the roster of Dorfopodes, and the first (mainline) version of the character to NOT be the same man as in Ocarina of Time. Once again a little weak in the motivation department, but has made up for that in STYLE. No other version of Ganondorf has served this hard before, rocking an incredible design and sheer fucking will, this man commands the screen every second he's present. He kills a woman onscreen and then pulls the most incredible facial expression ever about it before turning into a demon, creates hordes of monsters with a wave of his hand, and after two solid games of use pulling out Link's own flurry rush against him. Also having the sheer fucking balls to sacrifice his own mind and body to become a GIGANTIC DRAGON in his final fight is sincerely fucking metal. So no matter what your opinions on his writing are, I think we can agree that his level of cunt serving is second to none.

8.5/10

BONUS

Hyrule Warriors

10/10

[badkitty3000]

Would you do one where he sees a girl who looks like how he envisioned Delores and gets her to agree to roleplay but then he can't actually tell her to Delores really was so he just lies about that and keeps slipping in the middle of sex and saying things she doesn't understand?

Thank you for this! So, this is crazy because this describes almost exactly a short fic I wrote quite a while ago. I'm not sure it's the tone you were looking for, as it's definitely a little on the dark side. Five is not super warm and fuzzy to his real-life girlfriend in this one. And any story where he's wrestling with his demons and how they relate to Dolores can get dark just by the nature of it. There's a lot going on in that brilliant brain of his, and some of it isn't good or healthy.

But, I think it's a pretty good story, so I'm going to post it here, with just a couple small changes to make it a little bit more like what you requested. However, if you read this and decide this is not scratching where you itch, please let me know if there's something else I can try.

Thank you again for this request! ❤️

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Five x Dolores, Five x Female Unnamed Character, One-Shot, 6,078 words

Warnings: Smut, Doll fetishization, Five not being in a good place mentally

He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t be asking her to do what he was asking. It was fucked up. But wasn’t that the story of his life? Just when he thought he was doing ok, blending in, being normal. Then something would come along and boom, he was fucked up again.

“Hold still. That’s right…just like that.”

Five hadn’t wanted it to be like this. He just wanted to be a normal boyfriend. To have a normal relationship. He wasn’t sure it was love, but maybe it would get there eventually. But he liked the companionship. The soft kisses and sharing a bed. God, he hated sleeping alone. On the nights she wasn’t there, he laid awake most of the night; and when he did finally drift off, he was woken minutes later by some horrible nightmare. But when she was there next to him, breathing in the darkness, and he could feel the weight of her body on the mattress; then he could sleep soundly. No nightmares came if he wasn’t alone.

So, it really wasn’t fair. And he knew it. But that didn’t stop him from making his request of her. He had agonized over it for days, the sickening thought growing stronger inside his head. He tried to push it down, tried to make it go away. But it was always there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, threatening to burst forth in a manic display of craziness.

Five had been doing so well until that day. It had been years of drinking, and then therapy, and then finally acceptance. He wasn’t sure he’d describe himself as being happy, necessarily, but it was close. All those years of solitude, followed by the stresses of saving the world, and capped off by the overwhelming blame that was heaped on him by his family. Well, after all of that, the best he could do was a sort of contentment. And that was almost as good as happiness.

Afterall, he had her. And he definitely liked her. Liked having her around. He felt more at ease when she was with him, less on edge than usual. But he knew her feelings for him were much stronger than that. She loved him. He knew that because she told him. She told him at breakfast over their coffee. She told him at night before they fell asleep. And she told him while he was fucking her; hard and raw and ruthlessly, until she was clawing at his back. But he never said it back. Not once. And yet, she was still here.

Five pretended he just wasn’t ready to say it yet. He’d get there eventually; he was so close. And there were so many times when it almost escaped his lips. Those times when she would lean over and put her head in his lap, so comfortable with his body, like he was an extension of herself. Or when she was sleeping and he would look at her in the darkness, thankful she was there with him. But that wasn’t love. Not really. That was needing someone, which was entirely different. 

“I need you,” he would whisper next to her ear as she groaned beneath him, clutching at his skin. At least he could say that without lying. Five may have been a complete mental case and an asshole, but he wasn’t a liar.

The thing is, he knew what the problem was. There wasn’t enough therapy or drugs in the world that could cure him from what was lurking deep down inside of him. It had been too long, too many years of it. You can’t just erase decades of something from your mind, no matter how fucked up you know it is. Afterall, that’s what drew him to ask her out in the first place, wasn’t it? Her poised posture, the wavy blonde hair, her fair complexion. It didn’t help, though. Five couldn’t love her because he still loved her.

Five had been in a real relationship before. Practically a marriage, actually. For longer than he knew most people stayed together in this day and age. Granted, there wasn’t much of a choice at the time, but he liked to think that even if they had lived in a normal society, they still would have lasted that long. He loved her, and she loved him. And then…and then he just gave her away.

He and Dolores had been an unlikely pair, that was true. She liked poetry and romance, and couldn’t get enough of every pink sunset she saw, even though they were a dime a dozen. Five liked drinking, and swearing, and surviving. But when it came to her…she was his poetry and romance and sunset. She made him human and the only reason his mind remained even slightly intact. She’s the one that told him not to do it. That shooting himself in the head was cowardly and unoriginal; two things he definitely did not want to be. So, he lived on. For her.

She was the first thing he thought of when he landed in 2019. He knew she was out there, in that department store. He just had to find her. It was a harrowing experience, trying to get her out of there, but he did it. Amid a barrage of gunfire, his powers failing him, he did it anyway. Because she was the only thing he would have died for. He had told her he would find her, and he did.

Then the next couple of days went by in a blur. After a hasty reunion in his childhood bedroom, with passionate kisses and loving embraces in his old bed, he knew they couldn’t stay there. He had work to do. A world to save. An apocalypse to stop. So, he brought her with him, shoved in that bag because he didn’t know how else to transport her safely. She didn’t mind, though, just happy to be with him again. 

When he didn’t know what else to do, or where to go, he found the library. Their library. And just like most nights over the previous 45 years, Five got drunk and confessed his undying love to Dolores. He was no closer to stopping the end of the world. No closer to finding the owner of the prosthetic eye. But he had her with him, and that made him feel like anything was possible. 

Then he wasn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe it was the new world they were living in, with all the people and buildings and cars zooming past. Maybe it was his siblings and their judgmental gazes towards the two of them. Maybe it was his talk with Hazel, about starting a new life over again. He wasn’t sure, but in his mind, he thought he was doing what was best for her.   

So, he took her back to the department store, back where she came from. He said his heartfelt goodbye and Dolores smiled a sad smile before he turned away. His heart was broken, but deep down he knew it was the right thing to do. There just wasn’t a place for them in this new world. 

Timelines came and went. The world ended, and then it didn’t. Over and over, Five fought against the impossible, never stopping until finally…finally…he could stop. And he was free to live a normal life. But that ship had sailed. He would never be normal. And he would never stop thinking of Dolores. He knew she was probably out there somewhere. Where, he had no idea. The department store had changed hands several times, and the mannequins on display there were the modern kind; faceless and genderless, wearing clothes Five didn’t understand.

So, when he came upon her years later, he couldn’t believe it. It was like someone yanked him backwards through time, pulling his body and soul through the viscosity of space, and landing him fifteen years in the past. 

At first, he almost passed her by. Walking down the sidewalk that he had frequented a hundred times before, he happened to be looking at the other side of the street as he approached the old thrift store. It was only because of her that he looked over. She was with him. Walking hand in hand, they had been strolling down the street, taking in the shop windows and other sights of the city. 

“Oh, let’s go in here! Sometimes they have good vintage stuff,” she had exclaimed, pulling Five by the hand and walking towards the door.

The action made Five turn his head and look in the direction he was being dragged. That’s when he saw her. Right there in the front display window. Wearing a red, A-line dress and a tacky, over-sized sunhat. She was a brunette now, but Five recognized her right away. How could he not? He dreamt of her almost every night.

He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move. Unable to breathe. He stared at her and she stared back. Then he felt a tug on his hand again.

“Come on, what are you doing? Let’s go in.”

Five looked from the window to her, a dazed look on his face. “What?”

“Let’s go in. What’s wrong with you?” She was laughing at him, thinking he was just being his usual, slightly weird self.

He allowed himself to be dragged into the store, the little bell above the door ringing as they walked in, loudly announcing their presence. There was only one other shopper inside, along with a bored-looking sales person behind the counter. The air was stale and heavy, and smelled of old books and damp wood. It wasn’t a huge store, but it had little departments, and she wandered off in search of shoes. Five stayed near the front of the store, mumbling an excuse about wanting to look at some crappy wall art.

Once she was out of sight, Five turned toward the front window display. Dolores’ back was to him, but he would have been able to identify her even without her face. How many times had he run his hands over her smooth body, caressing her and kissing her until she laughed and told him he was tickling her? How many times had those hands touched his own body, pushed through his hair, and brushed his cheek? Just looking at her now, Five could feel the sensation of her body on his. One warm and frantic, the other cold and unmoving. 

He stared for a while, just studying the back of her. He wasn’t sure what to say, or even if he should say anything. She probably hated his guts, and she would have every right to. Would she even talk to him if he approached her? He knew she had seen him through the window, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. Five took a hesitant step closer to the display, and cleared his throat. The sales person looked up briefly, then returned to scrolling through their phone.

“Hello, Dolores. It’s good to see you again.”

Five waited. He had spoken quietly, hoping no one else would hear him, but he knew she could. The few seconds of silence that passed were torture, and he was just about to turn away again.  Then he heard her voice, softly, answering him.

Hello, Five. It’s good to see you, too.

He smiled, so grateful she was even speaking to him after what he had done. “You look good, Dolores.”

Thank you, so do you. How are you?

“I’m doing well, thank you.” Five glanced around the store, making sure no one was looking.  “Actually, I’m not doing that well. I’ve missed you.”

I’ve missed you too, Five. 

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Five jumped slightly. He hadn’t heard her walk up behind him. She was standing there with a confused look on her face, a pair of vintage heels in her hands.

“What? Nothing.” He gestured to the shoes. “You found something?”

She paused for a moment, glancing up at Dolores, and then back at Five. “Were you talking to that mannequin?”

Five scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Of course not. I was just thinking about something and started talking out loud to myself. You know how I drift off sometimes.”

She nodded. It was true, his mind did drift away a lot. Seeming satisfied with his answer, she held up the shoes. “Aren’t they awesome? I’m going to go pay.”

Five watched her walk to the counter and he stole another glance at Dolores. He dropped his voice even quieter, barely even a whisper.

“Can I come back and see you again?”

I’d like that.

Then Five was walking back out the door, his hand in hers again, barely listening to the words she was saying as they walked back to his apartment.   

Five did go back and see Dolores. Every day for the next two weeks, he found an excuse to leave and walk the few blocks to the thrift store. Sometimes he would stand outside on the sidewalk, talking to her through the window. Sometimes he went inside, cursing the stupid bell that rang overhead. The store clerk would look up and see him, recognizing him now that he was always there. On the times he did go inside, Five would make a show of wandering around the store first, picking up an item here or there. But he would eventually make his way back to the front, near the window, lingering there for far too long. 

With suspicious looks from the sales person, Five would bring some shitty item up to the counter and pay for it before leaving. Then he would throw whatever it was he just bought in the trash down the street. He’d return home, usually to find her waiting for him, asking where he’d been.

“Just going for a walk”, he’d reply. Now he could add liar to his list of reprehensible traits.

Once he had it in his head, he couldn’t get it out. He still fucked her when she threw her arms around his neck in a way that he knew meant she wanted him. Still kissed her and made her feel good. At least, he hoped he did, he wasn’t that much of an asshole. But it wasn’t the same. And she called him out on it.

“What’s going on with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” They were lying in bed, naked and breathing hard after a short, but satisfying round of sex. Five was staring at the ceiling, not meeting her eyes. 

“I don’t know, you just seem different. Like you’re zoning out in the middle of everything.”

Five glanced over at her, but looked quickly away. “So, what are you saying? You don’t like the way I fuck you anymore?” He knew his voice was much too harsh and she didn’t deserve that.

She looked hurt. “Of course not. I’m just saying you seem…distracted lately. That’s all.”

Five sighed, but he looked her in the eyes this time. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s probably what it is.”

She frowned with worry and went to place a hand on his chest. Rather than allowing the conversation to continue, Five sat up and got out of bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” Then he blinked into the bathroom without another word, feeling like a world-class piece of shit.

Then one night after a particularly heartfelt conversation with Dolores, and one too many drinks, Five worked up enough nerve to propose what he hadn’t been able to shake from his mind.

He had initiated it this time, sitting next to her on the couch and stroking her hair, pulling her onto his lap. After a passionate kiss and some light groping, he pulled away.

“Can I ask you for something?”

She smiled. “Is it sexual?”

Five laughed, embarrassed. “Yes, actually.”

She had meant it as a joke, but now she was intrigued. “Wow. You’re usually not that adventurous. Ok, what is it?”

Five paused, thinking he should just shut up and not say anything. But the words left his mouth before he could change his mind. “I want you to pretend you’re a doll.” His face flushed red and he looked away.

Her eyebrows knitted together, not fully understanding. “A doll? What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. “During sex. I want you to stay still and let me move your body how I want it. Like a doll.” Five had purposely not chosen the word mannequin; too afraid of being called out.

“Um, oh. That’s definitely different.” She sounded dubious, at best.

Five ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s stupid. Forget I said anything.” He went to kiss her again, as a distraction, but she pulled away from him.

“No, it’s ok. I want to do it for you. You just caught me off guard, that’s all.” She smiled and ran her finger down his cheek. “I can be your doll.”

Five swallowed, choking down the combination of shame and arousal that was coursing through his body. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure. I’ll do anything for you, you know that.”

As if he couldn’t feel any worse. He knew she was only doing this for him because she did love him. She was always trying to please him, to not anger him or make him feel bad in any way. Jesus, what an asshole he was.

“Just tell me what you want me to do.” The look in her eyes was sincere.

Five knew exactly what he wanted her to do. He’d been thinking about it for so long now. “Go into the bedroom and get undressed. Lie down on the bed and wait for me. But don’t move or speak. Just let me do everything.” His breath was coming harder now, just from the anticipation.

He saw a brief look of hesitation cross her face, but she nodded. Then she disappeared into the bedroom, as instructed.

Five waited a few minutes before getting up. He wandered slowly toward the bedroom, unsure of how he was going to react now that this was really happening. When he reached the door and peered inside, his heart stopped. There she was, lying unmoving on her back in the middle of the bed, just like he asked. She didn’t look up or speak when he stood over her, looking down. 

“You look gorgeous, darling. Not that you aren’t always gorgeous.” His voice was soft and tender. Definitely softer than he’s ever spoken to her before. But that’s because he wasn’t really speaking to her. Not in his mind, anyway.

Five stared at the still figure on the bed. Aside from the subtle rise and fall of her chest, she remained unmoving for him. Even as he gently ran a hand down her chest and abdomen, testing the waters to see if she would react. But she was a good doll for him. Always eager to please.

He started to undress himself as he talked to her in his loving voice. “I’ve missed your touch, my dear. I think about it all the time. The things I’ve done to you. The things I want to do to you still.”

When he was fully naked, Five climbed onto the bed with her, kneeling over her, straddling her thighs. He reached up and took her chin in his hand, gently moving her head from side to side.

“Do you remember how it used to be? Just the two of us?”

She kept her gaze on the ceiling, but he could see her swallow when he touched her and her eyebrows creased together. He placed a soft kiss on her lips and she didn’t react. It was perfect and he groaned.

“I love kissing you,” he murmured before ducking back down for another one. 

He smoothed her hair and caressed her face and neck. Five knew, in the back of his mind, that this was unfair. He’d never been this gentle and loving with her like this, and it was probably confusing for her. But that didn’t mean he was going to stop. No, he needed this. He was craving it.

He positioned his body over hers, taking her stiffened arms and moving them so they were resting across his back. She kept them where he placed them. He was fully hard now, and he rubbed himself against the inside of her thigh, moaning as he did it. He kissed her again, this time longer and harder, while he rutted into her. He heard her make a tiny whimpering noise and her hips twitched upwards.

“Shhh…stay still. Just a little longer,” he whispered, his face buried into her neck so he didn’t have to look at her face for too long.

She obeyed and her body stilled again. Only the harsh rasp of her breathing could be heard.

“You feel so good, my darling. Like always. You’re the only one that knows what I like.”

He could have stayed like that, just rubbing himself against her until he came all over her leg. He would have preferred it, actually. But the tiny part of his brain that wasn’t completely insane convinced him otherwise. Without asking, or even touching her first, Five thrust himself inside of her. He heard her gasp and her fingers clutched his back.

“Hold still. That’s right…just like that.”

She did her best to stay as still as possible while he fucked into her. He kissed her with his eyes closed a few times, but mostly he just focused on her neck and shoulder, lost in his own fantasy. He blocked out the moans she made and her hips pushing up to meet his. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close. The more he thought about Dolores, and her hard, statuesque body under his, the faster and harder he fucked her. He was desperate. Desperate to come inside of her, even though he would normally wait until she came first.

With a long groan and one final thrust, he was spilling hot cum inside of her. He pushed himself hard against her, his fists clenching the pillow under her head, until he was spent. Panting and still avoiding her eyes, Five climbed off of her, lying awkwardly next to her on the bed.

 He didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?

“Sorry,” he mumbled. That was about all that came to mind.

There was a pause and she adjusted herself, moving her body now, and looked over at him. “It’s ok. You don’t have to apologize. Some of it was a little confusing, but that’s alright. It was…good.”

He looked up at the ceiling and covered his eyes with his hands. “Shit,” he cursed quietly.

He felt her hand on his arm, warm and soft. “Five, it’s ok. Really. Don’t feel bad.”

Of course she would say that. She never wanted him to feel bad. Even when he deserved it. Even when he asked her not to move and came inside of her way too early. He probably made her feel like a cheap whore, but she would never say that. Because she loved him, and this is how he repaid her. The thought actually made him angry. Whether it was at himself or her, he wasn’t sure.

He snatched his arm away from her. “I don’t need your pity,” he snarled.

“It’s not pity, Five. I’m just trying to tell you it’s ok. That I don’t mind what you did.”

Five sat up, placing his feet on the floor, his back to her. “Just drop it, ok? I don’t need a fucking therapy session.” Then he was gone again, back in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Loathing his reflection.

He had meant for it to be a one-time thing. The way it left him feeling after the first time made Five want to crawl in a hole and die. He couldn’t look her in the eye. Could hardly speak to her. But she still came back. Wanting to please him, as always. Five tried to just focus on the good thing he had in front of him. A kind, loving person that wanted nothing more than to make him happy. Why couldn’t he just go back to the way things were before they came across that thrift store? Things had been far from perfect, but at least Five hadn’t felt like a sick pervert. He never used to have trouble screwing her in a perfectly normal way, liking the way she moved beneath him and moaned his name.

But now he was truly and utterly fucked. He didn’t want her anymore. Not the real version of her, anyway. Yet he didn’t cut her loose. He pretended he still wanted her, just so she wouldn’t leave. Because now he needed her in an entirely different way.

“Please, can you do it again?” Five was kissing her chest and rubbing her bare thighs. He always avoided her eyes, now.

She didn’t answer right away and he finally looked up at her. The look on her face was filled with apprehension.

“Again? Five, this is the fourth time now.”

Five tried to tamp down his growing anxiety. He needed her to do this for him. It felt like he was going to go crazy if she didn’t.

He kissed her stomach to distract her, listening as she inhaled sharply. “How about this?” He kissed her thigh. “I do something for you first, and then you do something for me.” He gave a small kiss in between her legs and she whimpered. “Deal?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her head already thrown back, eyes closed.

Five fulfilled his part of the deal. Using his hand and his mouth, he watched impassively, almost bored, as he worked her over. The sight of her writhing in pleasure and the sound of her pitiful moans did nothing for him. He made her come hard and fast, until she was lying on her back, fully relaxed and satiated. Five eyed her wordlessly.

Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. He waited as patiently as he could for her breath to finally steady. If she was breathing hard like that, it wasn’t going to work for him.

When it seemed like she had calmed down again, Five ventured to speak up. “Are you ready for your part of the deal, now?”

She flashed a quick look of uncertainty, most likely due to the underlying harshness that he had desperately tried to keep out of his voice, but had failed to do. 

“Yeah, sure. I’m ready.”

Five smiled. “Good. You know what to do, then.”

She nodded and positioned herself just like the other three times she had done this for him. Lying flat on her back, eyes on the ceiling, arms and legs at her sides; waiting to be moved in the way he wanted. She controlled her breathing as best as possible, so only minimal movement of her chest could be seen.

Seeing her immobile like that, Five drew a hard breath in. He hated that he wanted this so badly, but the urge overpowered his self-loathing and he couldn’t help himself. He ran a hand down her arm, and then along her hip. His touch was gentle and slow.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered tenderly. 

Five positioned her arms so they were bent at the elbows, hands and fingers molded into a slight curve. Her legs he kept straight, but spread them apart slightly. Unlike in the past, he ran his hand lightly over her eyes, closing her eyelids. He decided he didn’t want her looking at him anymore. It was too much of a distraction.

“Keep your eyes closed for me, doll,” he said quietly as he kissed her cheek. She did as he requested and kept them closed.

He proceeded to kiss down her arms and over her chest, his lips soft and gentle as they grazed her skin. He whispered loving words and told her how good she made him feel. Taking one of her hands, Five placed it on his hardened member, fitting it in the crook between her thumb and index finger. He held her hand in place while he slowly thrust back and forth, rubbing his cock over her, groaning with the intense and familiar pleasure. Soon, he wasn’t able to hold back any longer.

Rather than fuck her properly, like he did before, Five had no desire to feel the soft, wet sensation of her wrapped around him. Instead, he started grinding against the inside of her leg, in the space between her thigh and groin. It was harder there, mostly bone, and his movements became faster as he lost himself further and further into his fantasy. 

He was holding his body over hers, rutting against her, moaning a mixture of obscenities and gentle praise. She stayed still for him, her eyes closed, although he could see now and then her eyes moving back and forth beneath the lids, the lashes fluttering ever so slightly.  She gasped quietly sometimes, but Five was so far gone he barely noticed.

Once he was close to finishing, Five knelt between her legs on his knees. Pumping himself with his own hand, he worked himself over until he was coming onto her stomach and tits, covering her in a load of cum while he groaned loudly with his eyes shut tight. 

After a few moments, Five was able to open his eyes again. He was greeted by her judgmental gaze staring back at him. A mixture of horror, concern, and disgust written all over her face as she propped herself up on her elbows. He quickly averted his eyes, saying nothing, and blinked into the bathroom for a towel. When he returned, he cleaned up the sticky mess he had made all over her while she laid there, still silent.

When that task was done, he didn’t know what else to do, and he sat nervously on the edge of the bed, feeling hot with shame. She sat up fully and finally spoke.

“Are you ok?”

That was the first thing she asked him, after all of that. After being made to lie still while Five did whatever sick thing he wanted to her, only to have him jerk himself off onto her stomach. Five just couldn’t believe she was taking this much abuse, and it turned his stomach a little. To know that he was allowing this to continue, that he was the cause of this abuse. It would be one thing if this was a mutual fantasy, but it wasn’t. And she didn’t even know the half of it.

“Yeah, why?” Five asked with a slight tone of annoyance.

She touched his shoulder, lightly, and he tried not recoil from her hand. “If there’s something you need to tell me, you know you can. I won’t care. I love you.”

And there it was. Those three fucking words that made him want to pull his hair out and scream. Instead, he whipped his head in her direction, his building guilt and anger towards himself finally unleashed.

“Why do you keep telling me that? Why?!”

She shrunk back a little. “That I love you? Because I do.” 

Five sighed heavily and started pulling his underwear back on. “Do you really have that little respect for yourself? Are you that pathetic?” He stood over her now, his voice hard while she backed further away from him on the bed.

“I…I’m sorry…” her voice was trembling and he could see tears forming in her eyes.

“Jesus Christ! Now you’re sorry? For what? Don’t you see what’s happening here? I’m never going to love you, ok. So, if you think you’re going to wear me down or make me fall in love with you somehow, that’s not going to happen. Do you understand what I’m telling you? I don’t love you!” He emphasized these last words, practically yelling them to get his point across. 

Five watched as her face crumbled, the last bit of hope she had been clinging to crushed in a second with his words. She began to cry and she buried her face in her hands. Her words were muffled as she whimpered pitifully.

“You told me you needed me.”

Five lowered his voice so it was softer. But his words were just as cruel. “I used to need you. I don’t anymore.”

The next day, Five was walking into the thrift store again. He hadn’t needed to make up an excuse this time. She was gone. Out of his life for good, now. He felt badly about how he treated her; horribly actually. He had always known he was a monster inside, but this was the first time he had let it escape like that. Let it rear its ugly head and completely destroy another person. A person he supposedly cared about. But he couldn’t think about that now. He needed to speak with Dolores.

Ignoring the side eye from the sales person at the counter, Five walked up to the front window. She was still there, just like always. Same red dress, same floppy sun hat. 

“I have to tell you something, Dolores. Something important.”

Ok, go ahead. I’m listening.

“I want to be with you. And only you. She’s gone now. We can be together. That is, if you’ll have me.”

Of course, Five. I always want to be with you. But what happened with her?

“Nothing. She just finally saw through me. Saw that was I really in love with someone else.”

You love me?

“I love you, Dolores. I always have.”

The next day, Five came back. Only this time he hoped it would be his last time. After discussing it in secret with Dolores, they had settled on a plan. A plan to get her out of there and back home with him where she belonged. It should be fairly straight forward, but just in case, Five’s pistol was loaded and ready inside the waistband of his pants if needed. Just like last time, he wasn’t going to leave her without a fight.

Instead of trying to avoid the sales clerk, this time he approached the counter right away. It was a stupid, convoluted story that he had conjured up the night before. Something about how he had accidentally donated an item a few days prior, but realized he needed it back. Would the clerk mind checking in the back to see if he could find it? 

Five had used as much charm as he could manage, hoping he seemed sincere and not in any way crazy. The clerk seemed to buy it, although he did give Five a few odd looks. Once he was behind the door that led to the back warehouse, Five took his chance.

Carefully but quickly, he released Dolores from the display stand she was attached to. It took a little longer than he had anticipated, and Five kept looking nervously toward the counter, hoping the sales clerk would take a while. Finally, she was free. He lowered her from the raised platform in the window and into his arms. He cradled her gently for a moment, before taking one more glance around. Seeing that the coast was clear, he blinked the two of them out into the alley behind the store.

Once he teleported them several more blocks away, he finally stopped and rested. He highly doubted anyone was going to miss a decades-old mannequin from a dusty old thrift store. Five caressed her face and kissed her lips. It felt so good. So familiar. He immediately felt more at peace than he had in years.

Back home, Five showed Dolores around. This would be her home now, too. He promised he would buy her some better clothes, and do away with that awful hat. But for the time being, he just wanted to stay inside and rekindle their love.

“I love you, Dolores. I’m sorry I ever left you.” He nuzzled against her smooth cheek with his own.

I love you, too, Five. We can be together now, right? Just the two of us?

“Yes, my darling. Nothing will come between us again. I promise.”

[maddiethedogstories]

The Birthday - 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

As awareness started to wash over me again, I smiled. I felt good. I was relaxed, comfortable, and more happy then I could remember being in years. The events of earlier in the day felt like a distant nightmare. Being tied down, diapered, and gagged with a pacifier all felt like a dream. I thought to myself, maybe it was. Being forcefully babied by my wife did sound like something my fucked up subconscious would spit up.

So, to test this hypothesis, without opening my eyes, I tried to move my hands. One at a time, I pulled each of my hands to my body, and, to my surprise and delight, I wasn't met with any resistance. I tried the same thing with my feet, pulling my knees up to my chest. Just like with my hands and arms, I could move my feet and legs freely. Maybe this morning was all just a dream?

Feeling a familiar pressure in my bladder, I turned my body and sat up on the edge of my bed, the comforter still sitting on my lap. I looked around the room and nothing has changed from what I remembered prior to this morning. There were no restraints left on the bed. There weren't blindfolds or other BDSM supplies left on my nightstand. The room was clean, other than the bed being dishevelled from my sleeping in it, and was lit by a warm, late afternoon light.

Give the state of the room, I finally concluded that the events from earlier in the day must have been a bad dream. So, with my bladder aching for relief, I stood up and began walking to the bathroom. For some reason, I didn't notice the crinkling noise at every step I took or the pronounced waddle that I had with each step. I didn't even look at my reflection in the mirror as I hurriedly scuttled to my destination. My whole focus was on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible to relieve myself. My need to pee was growing stronger much faster.

It didn't take long for my eyes to fall on my goal. The porcelain throne of my relief lay just before me. However, as I reached down to pull down my boxers, I was interrupted by a voice.

"Oh, good! You're awake! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I hear my wife's soft voice gently intone behind me.

At the sound of her voice, I turn around suddenly and face her. I can't help but smile. Despite the horrible nightmare I had earlier, she looks incredibly sexy, wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, low-cut on top to expose her ample cleavage, and cut-high on the bottom to show off her legs. I am a lucky man, I think to myself.

"I sweept guud! Danks!" I lisped out in response to Melody's question. I was oblivious to the large rubber nipple occupying my mouth, making it difficult for me to pronounce words properly. Melody giggled in response as she walked closer to me.

For some reason, as she came closer, a sensation of fear sent a shiver down my spine. Has she always seemed so much bigger than me? I thought. Before I could dwell on that thought though, Melody began to speak again.

"I am so glad to hear that baby! I wouldn't want you getting cranky on your big day. But, I have a question, why are you in the bathroom?" She asked, curiously, with a hint of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"I've gotta pee," I responded, still oblivious to the object occupying my mouth, "I'll finish dat, den come see j'you." Melody's smile became predatory.

"Oh, baby, you didn't need to come hide in here when you potty! You can just go whenever you want to!" She said.

"What?" I lisped out, confused.

"Just make your pee-pees and poo-poos wherever you want, love. You don't need to hide like a naughty toddler. I won't judge you for using your diaper, that is what it's for!" Melody said.

At those words, my head swam. I became slightly dizzy. I grabbed the wall, and, for the first time, looked down at myself.

Like I expected, I was mostly naked expect for my underwear. My hairy, somewhat pasty dad bod on full display. What I didn't expect was the underwear I was wearing. Around my waist where, after discounting the days earlier events as a bad dream, I expected to see boxers, hung a gigantic white and pastel blue diaper adorned with a cartoon teddy bear laying on alphabet blocks. The giant, babyish garment dropped wetly between my legs. The blue line of the wetness indicator declaring for everyone who could see it that I had already thoroughly soaked the garments padding.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at myself in disbelief. As my lips parted, a pacifier that I had also not been aware of up until that point, fell to the bathroom tile accompanied by a line of drool leading directly to my parted lips.

Realization hit me like a freight train. My nightmare wasn't a dream. I was still living it.

"What the fuck, Mommy?" I said to Melody as I looked down at my wet diaper and drool covered pacifier. "Wait, why did I call you Mommy? Mommy. Mommy. Mama!" Despite my best efforts, I had discovered that, despite my best efforts otherwise, I couldn't call Melody anything but Mommy or Momma now.

I looked back up at my wife, who was now grinning from ear to ear. The totality if my situation was starting to dawn on me. If what I thought was a dream had actually happened, then, I had eventually fallen asleep with those damned headphones on. And, if that had happened, I must have given in. I'd been hypnotized.

Melody laughed as she watched the wheels turning in my head. As the depths of how fucked I was hit me, she put words to my thoughts.

"That's right baby, you fell asleep listening to Mommy's special music, and now I'm in control. You're just like the poor girls you torture in your demented little stories. You are completely and utterly at my whim."

My bladder still ached, and I almost released it in fear at my wife's words. A part of me thought that was curiously. If I had been hypnotized, why did I still have any control of my bodily functions. It didn't take long for that question to be answered.

"Don't worry though, baby, I didn't take too much from you, yet," Melody continued. "Really, I'll I've done so far is to make you a little less observant of your situation when you woke up and made sure you address me properly this weekend."

Those changes didn't sound too bad to me. However, Melody's use of the word 'yet,' was not lost on me.

"That is not to say that I can't do more if you don't behave," my wife continued. "It'll be much more fun if you know you are choosing to be my stinky little baby boy for the weekend, rather than being forced to."

"Fuck that, Mommy! I will not just lay down and be your perfect little baby! I will not just be humiliated like that! Plus, I am not just going to lay down and let you tie me up and hypnotize me again," I spat out. To emphasize my point, I reached for the tapes on my diaper, moving to rip them up in a show of defiance. However, before I could get a good grip on the tapes, Melody spoke again.

"Mommy says freeze," Melody said firmly.

I froze. Suddenly, I couldn't move. My terror started to build. This hypnosis clearly ran deeper than I expected. Regardless, I would not just give in to my wife's carefully designed torture. If anyone was supposed to choose to be the defenseless adult baby, it was her, not me. Letting myself give in and capitulate so easily would make me no better than the fictional women I wrote about in my smut. With renewed determination, I rolled my eyes up to look directly at my wife with, what I hoped, was a look of defiance and control in my eyes.

"Let me be clear, mister," Melody said with her hands on her hips, "You will be wearing and using your diapers this weekend one way or another." Melody continues to lecture me like I've seen her lecture our kids 1000 times, "You may think you have some control in this situation. That is an illusion. Like a real baby, you only have as much control as Mommy says. And, like a real baby, you will do what Mommy says."

The lecture has little effect on me. Despite this show of power, I was still certain my mind was strong enough, mature enough, to break my wife's hypnosis. I continued to ineffectually glare at her from my frozen position.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to release you. You are going to prove to me that you are going prove to me that you can be a good baby for Mommy. If you don't, I am going to show you how much control I really have," Melody informed me.

She walked closer as she gave me further instructions. Despite my resolve to maintain my dignity, I still couldn't help but feel like her tiny frame was somehow looking over my much larger one as she spoke.

"You already told Mommy you have to make pee-pee. When I release you, you are going to prove to me you are a good baby, deserving of maintaining the control you have, by wetting your pants, do you understand?"

I just glared in response. Partially because I couldn't move my mouth or nod my head, but partially, and I would like to think this was the larger part, out of obstinance. Melody, however, choose to take my lack of response as acquiescence.

"Good boy. Mommy says you can move," Melody said.

I stumbled a little as my muscles loosened and I regained the ability to freely move.

"Now, wet yourself," she commanded.

"No!" I asserted, "I am not your fucking baby doll."

I reached for the tape of the soggy diaper wrapped around my waist again, determined to remove it and use the toilet like the adult I am. Once again, before I could make any progress, Melody interrupted me.

"Mommy says freeze," she commanded. I once again found myself reverted to a living, breathing statue. I let out a gutteral growl from my throat, the only noise I could easily make.

Melody leaned over, lovingly placed one hand on my cheek, and made eye contact with me.

"That was very, very naughty baby boy. I hoped that just freezing you was all you were going to need to be a good boy for me, but, apparently, you need Mommy to teach you a lesson," she said with a fringe of disappointment in her voice. "I am going to make sure you don't fight using your cute little diapys any more." Melody reached around me and lightly slapped my diapered ass for emphasis.

If I could have, I would have swallowed in nervousness. I have read, and written, enough ABDL smut to know what she was going to do next. She would say 'Mommy says you aren't potty trained,' or something similar, and I would release my very full bladder into my already wet diaper, causing it to leak over the floor. I'd be embarrassed. However, from my position, at least Melody and I would know that I hadn't given in, she had to force me to set myself.

Unfortunately, my premonition of what was going to happen next was wrong.

Melody stopped making eye contact me and leaned closer into me, placing her lips next to right ear. She then softly whispered her next command.

"Mommy says you are terrified of potties. Mommy says you are certain something horrible will happen the next time you use one."

Suddenly, a new phobia took root in my psyche. When I thought about toilets, my body filled with an irrational feeling of dread. Despite my overwhelming need to pee, I was suddenly certain in the depths of my soul, that if I actually used the porcelain monster behind me, my life would be in danger.

This new fear created a strange cognitive dissonance in my head. I still DID NOT want to use the diaper strapped around my waist like the pathetic man-toddler Melody wanted me to be. However, the idea of using any sort of 'potty' filled me with such a sense of existential dread that I almost found myself wetting my pants out of fear at the thought of it.

Melody's lesson wasn't over though.

"Mommy says that you are no stronger than a real toddler and are easily overpowered by me," Melody added.

Still reeling from the first command, the ramifications of the second hypnosis-enforced edict from my wife didn't immediately concern me.

Melody pulled back from my still frozen form and crossed her arms, taking the stance of a mother, about to punish a naughty child.

"Now, baby, you already told me you need to go potty. Also, you have made it abundantly clear you do not want to use your diapers. So, I am going to give you this opportunity to prove you are a big boy. I am going to help you go potty on the big boy potty, doesn't that sound fun? Mommy says unfreeze."

"No, please, no! Mommy, you can't make me. Please, don't make me go near it!" I pleaded desperately as soon as my control came back to me. Fear had taken over my body at my wife's decree. Tears had started to well in my eyes at the thought of sitting on the toilet.

I stated to work my way out of the bathroom in fear, attempting to push my way past Melody. I thought, maybe, if I made it outside, I could pee in a bush or something, and save myself the embarrassment of using the diaper wrapped around my waist as well as the terror that came from potentially using the dreaded potty. Unfortunately, before I could get far, Melody grabbed me. I tried to push past her, but found, as I should have expected, I couldn't use any more force than a toddler would against their mother. My wife was easily able to gain control of me by grabbing my wrists.

"No, no you don't baby! You have made it very clear you want to be a big boy and use the big boy potty, so that is what you are going to do!" Melody said, now dragging me easily by my wrists towards the porcelain monster, sitting menacingly in the corner of the room.

"Please, Mama, please, don't make me! Please don't make me use a toilet!" I started to beg as I ineffectually tried to pull away.

"This is what you wanted, big boy, so this is what you get!" My wife said as she dragged me through our restroom towards the toilet like a toddler who refused to be potty trained.

With each step closer to the toilet, my fear grew. Tears of terror welled up and began to pour from my eyes. I became unable to communicate I'm full sentences. Mucus started to drip from my nose.

"Mama… Please… No… No potty… No… Please no…" I wailed like a tantruming toddler as Melody continued to drag me across the bathroom floor.

When we got within a step of the toilet, my rational mind has given in. I was willing to do anything to avoid having to risk being eaten by the potty monster in front of me. In fear and desperation, I gave in. I let my bladder loose and flooded my already full diaper.

A loud hissing sound began to accompany my wails of terror. I felt the warm, wet urine fill the already saturated padding as I let lose. I then felt the fresh urine, with no where else to go, begin to leak out the leg gatherers of my babyish pants and form a puddle on the ground. The shame I felt at giving in was still overwhelmed by the terror of potentially being forced to sit on or, heaven forbid, use a toilet.

It didn't take long for Melody to notice the puddle growing on the floor. As she held my wrists, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh no! I thought you were a big boy who used the potty? Did you just make pee-pees in your diapy?" Melody said with a look of victory in her eyes. She temporarily relented from dragging me across the bathroom floor, letting me sit my diapered ass in the growing puddle of urine underneath me.

I looked up at her, fear of the toilet, shame that I choose to piss myself rather than use a toilet, and hope that Melody wouldn't force me to use the dreaded 'potty' all drifting through me. I told her the truth.

"Yes, I peed myself," I choked out hopefully through sobs.

"What was that baby? I didn't understand you. If you don't want me to make you use the potty like a big boy, I need you to tell me what you did like the pathetic toddler you are," Melody responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger at being reduced to this, but one glance at the toilet standing less than two feet from where I was sitting, my fear took control again.

"Mommy, me make pee-pees in my diapy! Pwease don't make me use da potty!" I lisped out, unable to keep my desperation and terror from leaking into the last sentence.

My wife just giggled in response.

"Are you sure? You were SO adamant you were a big boy just a couple of minutes ago? Don't you just want to at least TRY to go potty on the potty?" She responded.

My terror spiked again. She wouldn't still force me to sit on that monstrosity would she? I could die!

Desperate to appease the monster that was my wife, I quickly responded.

"No, Mama! Me no want potty! Please, no potty! Me…. Baby."

I let the last word come out quietly. I let my head fall in shame. Melody had defeated me. She had forced me to choose to use my diaper. For all intents and purposes at this point, I was a baby.

Melody smiled. She looked down at me and saw, I am certain, just what I had admitted to being: a giant, pathetic, overgrown toddler, who had flooded his pampers in terror to avoid being potty trained. For fuck sake, I was still sitting in a puddle of my own piss only two feet from the toilet.

"Well, I guess I was right, you're just too little to be potty trained," she said triumphantly.

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. I had lost. I had chosen to utterly debase myself, rather than use a fucking toilet like an adult. I couldn't claim that I was an adult or even a 'big boy' who was 'already potty trained' to her. The shame I felt at acting like a toddler was almost overpowered by the relief I felt in hearing that my wife wasn't going to try to potty train me.

For now, at least, I would have to be her perfect little man-baby.

NEXT CHAPTER

[steddie-island]

Wiggly worm Wednesday🪱🖋️

I was tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation and @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson

There are brain worms today but they're pretty angsty ones-- with a happy ending, because I can't let something just be angsty!

CW for recreational drug use, talk about addiction, mention of canon character death, PTSD

This is another long one, these get away from me somehow.

No pressure tagging @runninriot @stervrucht @rozzieroos and anyone else who wants to do this. 😌

I keep listening to My Fault by Shaboozey and seeing Eddie, rolling in the fame and glory he fought so hard for. He wonders why that doesn't fix him, wonders why he still has dreams about Chrissy Cunningham dying in front of him, why he still wakes up in a cold sweat with a mob hot on his heels.

Even having the love of his fucking life there doesn't make it all better, doesn't make it go away. Besides, Steve has his own shit, his own nightmares, his own trauma he's still trying to work through. Eddie refuses to be a burden.

So he turns to booze, and to drugs. He parties harder and harder, until he passes out hard enough that he doesn't dream (at least, he doesn't remember dreaming).

Steve knows something's changed. He's not an idiot, he's lived with Eddie for a few years now. He's seen enough rock stars on a downward trajectory, has had a few who crashed on their couch. Eddie's going down and he's going down hard, and Steve is fucking terrified.

He talks to Eddie, who insists he doesn't have a problem, he's fine, Steve's just being a worrier the way he always is. Eddie finally promises to slow down when Steve breaks down in front of him and literally begs.

And it's a promise Eddie means to keep, only slowing down means the dreams come back harder, stronger. So he doesn't slow down for long.

Steve tries to stick around and help him, but he can't handle seeing the way Eddie starts to look like a hollow shell of himself. He's still a livewire on-stage, but there's something more manic to it. The rest of the band notices it, too. Eddie tells them all to get off his dick when they try to have the same talk that Steve had with him.

Finally there's a breaking point. They're at an aftershow party. Someone flirts with Steve (something they're both used to because, fucking duh, Steve's hot). Only this time Eddie snaps, and he ends up breaking this poor asshole's nose, getting his own ass kicked a little, and he leaves in cuffs.

Steve leaves that night. Calls up Robin, who knows how worried he's been, and she and Vicki come help him pack his bags and come back to their little apartment to stay for a while.

Eddie's mugshot is all over the tabloids, followed by news of Corroded Coffin cutting their tour short, taking a break.

Then Eddie disappears from the public. It was one thing for the band to be as pissed as they were, but coming home to an empty apartment (not empty empty, but empty of the only thing he really gave a damn about besides Warlock) almost did him in.

So Eddie, for the first time since he left Hawkins, goes home to his uncle Wayne. Wayne helps him detox. And it's fucking hard. Eddie wants to give up, almost does a few times. Wayne catches him leaned over the bathroom counter and doesn't stop him, just says he hopes the hit is worth losing Steve forever.

Eddie hates him for a few days, but when the worst of it is finally over and Wayne brings him hot chocolate in a chipped Garfield mug, he instantly melts.

That isn't the end of it, though. There are meetings to go to. Apologies have to be made, and not just to the band and Steve. Eddie makes his way down the list, saving the most important person for last.

Finally he does show up at Steve's (Robin's) door, though. He thought about showing up with flowers and candy and the notebook full of songs he's written to try to show Steve just how sorry he is. He doesn't do any of that, he just apologizes. Asks Steve out for coffee.

They get to sit and talk, and it's like old times again. Steve's still cautious, but he has the man he fell in love with in front of him again. When Eddie drops him off at Robin's again it's with a kiss so gentle, so tender, it nearly makes Steve cry.

He moves back in a week later.

divider credit

[serenedash]

Let's talk khux gameplay and plot,

imo I think part of khux's story telling and the impact of the story gets lost now that the game is defunct. I always thought people didn't appreciate how the gameplay and the mechanics actually had an impact on the story and while that impact become virtually nonexistent later on, I always thought it made the story far more engaging when the game was just chi/unchained chi and also the English translation didn't do it too well ngl

Anyway what I'm specifically talking about is the medal system. Also I feel like the whole bangle thing wasn't explained well in game but really it just comes down to leveling up medals specifically. If you never played khux, you equip medals to your keyblades and they doa specific attack and to level them up you combine multiple of the same medal and you could see how leveled up a medal is by the amount of yellow dots next to it and, in JP at least, this was called "guilt" and like wow that name fucking slaps. And when nightmare chirithy reveals the player has been collecting darkness this whole time thru the medal system, you have literal guilt on your conscious. You are guilty of collecting darkness and negative emotions like guilt to use for your own power. And in Back Cover when the foretellers are made aware of this, there's no stopping it and ofc the player can't stop either, they HAVE to get stronger, you literally have to keep playing the game,

Another part of the game that I appreciated is the way the name changes factored into the game; chi was the original "world line" that the dandelions existed in and at first unchained chi had come off as just a remake but really what we're playing is the continuation, where the player and the dandelions are now in this unchained state/new world line and they're reliving their time as wielders but now without the war/"dark" memories and finally when they relive everything and get back to the "present," they continue on after into "union cross" which I feel like. wasn't explained well in game that much tbh but if you didn't understand what that meant in game, it was just to say that unions didn't matter anymore and they were all dandelions so the unions. when the unions are crossed.

and tbh the experience of playing this game in real time also added to the experience a lot and the impact of the story especially with a player insert character. I think the most effective use of this game being played in real time was Strelitzia. Now in the english version, everything with Strelitzia was all one update and the english ver was behind so honestly they had to do catch up they couldn't really afford to lag behind. But in JP, which most khux fans kept up with using fan translations, Strelitzia's introduction and her death happened about a month apart so it gave the players time to actualyl grow attached to her and THEN we get crushed. You can easily pin point the exact time certain khux fan art was drawn bc in a group drawing of the dandelions Strelitzia is there instead of Lauriam since he was only introduced after her death

and another thing! It only became apparent by the end of the game but khux actually takes place over the course of about 4 years. which is fucking insane. because the dandelions were stuck in the data for 4 years and didn't know it until the glitches started. and the game ran for roughly the same amount of time and we weren't even aware of that either until the glitches! ("why 4 years" there are cutscenes that literally say "4 years ago" so yeah girl what the fuck haha)

Anyway yeah this was just me rambling I think about this so much all the time can you tell. I hope missing link does something like this too tbh it makes it more fun and makes it feel that your actions as the player actually have impact on the story

[14th-century-verona-queer]

Sokka Headcannons

pt 2!

As always i remind you all that I’ve not watched atla in genuine years, please correct me for any wrong information

On to the hc’s!

he’s secretly a VERY good singer. Kya used to teach him how to sing when he was younger in order to do simple prayers and rituals asking the spirits to keep Hakoda safe and bring back a successful hunt. Sokka would sit next to her, looking up starry-eyed at the beautiful melodies that would come out of his mothers’ mouth. He would spend all day practicing, humming the tunes to himself, trying to get them perfect, and at night would run up to his mother with a hushed “look look mom! Listen to this!” And sing it right, note for note. And she would smile and say “very good, sokka. You might even be better than me some day!” And sokka would always grin at the thought of finally, I did something right! And now mom’s proud of me. After Kya’s death, he spent months without singing. He would train all day and almost all night to try to be better, be faster, be stronger. One day after he finished his night training, he heard Katara wake up and screaming from a nightmare. He pulled Katara onto his bed, lay her head on his lap, and stroked her hair while he sang softly to her. Kya’s lullabies one of the few things that he remembers about her, and it’s the only thing that would calm Katara down. He’s still sort of embarrassed about his singing voice, so no one but Katara knows how good of a singer he is until one day Zuko wakes up from a nightmare. He put’s Zuko’s head in his lap, just like he used to to Katara, and starts singing a low, haunting melody in his native language (more on that next), and Zuko looks at him suprised, but then slowly relaxes and falls asleep with a smile on his face. After that night Zuko begs over and over for Sokka to sing for him some more which is rare because Zuko isn’t usually very pushy. I guess he liked his singing. It’s mostly because of the look on Sokka’s face when he sings and how pretty he looks and how well he sings and wow hes just really pretty oh my god and it makes zuko lose his fucking mind. Eventually the rest of the Gaang finds out (after a very very long time), and sometimes certain words, (or even just randomly he’ll remember) will remind him of a song and he’ll just quietly hum or sing and everyone stops and stares for a second cause damn sokka thats rlly pretty youre acc rlly good

(Ive seen this headcannon that all the nations have their respective native languages, and then a universal language used for trade and all that, so this stems from that ) Sokka slips back into his native language a lot and switches between his native language and the universal language a lot (kinda like Spanglish lol). Bc of this everyone in the Gaang knows enough of the language to have a conversation (especially Suki and eventually Zuko because teaching people he dates his native language is just?? Rlly important to him? He wants to share everything about their culture and teach his partners about how see this word actually can’t be translated to Universal Language, but its really versatile and here’s the whole history of how this word was created. He really loves language and learning so he wants his partners to enjoy it too) he mostly slips back into the language out of force of habit, but also makes a conscious effort to speak it to make sure he doesn’t forget his culture and remind people that the water tribe’s aren’t savages, they have genuine spoken languages and converse like normal people. Whenever he and Katara are fighting they’ll fight very fast and unintelligiblyin their native tongue so everyone else is just kinda trying to figure out what they’re arguing about lol.

after everyone made fun of his art skills you know DAMN WELL he learned how to draw after that. Brother was up at DAWN learning the basic elements of art so he could show up with a Mona Lisa next time the Gaang got together and wipe the smirks off their faces (and ofc Zuko hung up every single one of his drawings, no matter how messy or fast or bad, in the palace)

HE BUILT A STATUE OF KATARA. SOMEWHERE. (I haven’t watched LOK but ik that there are statues of the Gaang around!) if there’s one thing that that man loves, its his sister. He will CONSTANTLY remind everyone. “UHM YEA, ALL YOU WOMEN TRAINING IN BATTLE IN THE NORTH POLE??? DONT FORGET WHO YOU OWE THAT TO. YEA. MY WONDERFUL BEAUTIFUL AMAZING (but dont tell her i said that abt her) SISTER DID THAT. AND DONT YOU DICKWADS FORGET IT”

And yea, thats all i got for now lol

You can find part 1 here (cause its been a month since the first one): pt1

[eggingtontoast]

Please tell me more about how you view Jeri!! I know you’ve talked a bit about her before, but I’d love to know more!!

Oh fuck oh shit oh sweet jesus-

Oh dear god Storm my dear friend you already *know* how I am about Jeri but I'll lay it all out here as well, and I'm collecting stuff from my Campfire Confession Document as well as stuff I've thrown into the BRP discord server.

I will add a disclaimer that I headcanon Jeri as a queer woman, so if that isn't your thing, that's perfectly okay! I will also discuss themes of trauma, abuse, and sexual themes.

NOW HERE WE GO:

Let's talk about themes.

Jeri is a character who only shows up in one Nightmare Time 2 episode, but we can glean a pretty good amount of stuff regarding her character and season that with a healthy dose of headcanon!

Jeri’s main theme is suppression.

That much is evident, she’s hiding the fact that she had premarital sex and a child out of wedlock, something that goes directly against what her church wants. She’s held onto this secret for several years, and, seeing as Lumberaxe/Lil Jerrie is roughly 20, decades.

Her actions in Abstinence Camp also get stopped, be it calling for the police and Boy Jerry stopping her, or her being talked over/ talked for. Jeri doesn't really get to speak for herself, not until she's alone with Grace after having chased her down in the woods. Jeri is a follower, not a leader, when she is around Boy Jerry. She gets little bits and pieces to provide input, but other than that she's pushed aside by Boy Jerry. She doesn't get to speak her mind without judgement!

Therefore, Jeri is afraid.

Jeri’s secondary theme is anxiety.

No seriously, look at her. When faced with the possibility of Steph being pregnant, Jeri starts to spiral and project her own fears onto her. 

This isn't to say that she's purely anxious, but that anxiety and fear are a huge motivator for her and the actions she takes. She goes along with whatever Boy Jerry says because he pokes at her insecurities with having a child out of wedlock, for having sex in the first place, etc.

Let's consider where Jeri comes from.

There's not a lot that canonically mentioned in Abstinence Camp, but it's enough to make a mountain out of a mole hill.

Jeri presents the idea of teen pregnancy to Steph in a way that very much feels like she speaks from experience. We can glean from this that Jeri herself was disowned by her family for having premarital sex and getting pregnant. She's most likely from the same church as the Chasitys, so it's possible that she was raised similarly to Grace or even how Mark and Karen were as kids. In this sense, Jeri's family and church were her main pillars of support, and by getting pregnant when she was younger she lost one of those pillars.

Jeri is someone who is very much a person of trauma. With the way she was raised, she was taught to believe a skewed sense of purity, and with being disowned by those who should love and care for her, and that event weighing on her mind so much to project onto Steph? She has trauma.

Particularly about sex, and probably has a more than healthy dose of fear and anxiety surrounding it, desire, and how she is perceived as a woman. She had a child out of wedlock, was not prepared for it at all, and grapples with the shame of it by leaning on her religion and doing her best to teach other how not to be like her. How not to fall to temptation and sin. She thinks of herself as a shameful, filthy creature, because of how she had sex and got pregnant. To Jeri, she had succumbed to a desire she should have been stronger to refuse, and that to her is one of her greatest shames and secrets.

She feels shame toward herself and her more carnal desires because in her eyes she messed up, and doesn't want to make that same mistake again. Getting pregnant was considered her fault, and that sentiment is shared by Boy Jerry, and possibly her family. Not to mention, that Boy Jerry seems to use her guilt over this as a way to keep her on a short leash and control her, whilst denying any part he's taken in it unless it's useful to him somehow.

This is where I come out and say I'm not the biggest fan of Boy Jerry, haha!

Let's talk about gender and how Jeri's called Girl Jeri.

In our modern day society gender is a hot topic. Be it from gender roles, which are still reinforced to this day, to the ways we transcend from such restrictions. In a setting such as an abstinence camp, campers are segregated by a binary gender system, and as such so are the counselors.

Boys and Girls. Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri. Sure, the nicknames are to maintain a fun and friendly atmosphere for the campers, but I argue that this could also be used to maintain the status quo narrative that Boy Jerry set for both himself and Jeri. They're just fun, quirky, camp directors, nothing weird here! They tell the campers at the start of camp that they can use the nicknames too, but even when both Boy Jerry and Jeri are alone together, they call each other by those nicknames, almost like a reminder to not spill the beans.

We can see in the NMT2 episode that Jerry, while unhinged when under pressure, is methodical albeit frustrated when he finds the dead bodies of the campers. He's exasperated, whereas when Jeri comes across Gabe's dead body, she is shocked and immediately is taken aback. This could be evidence enough that Jerry was the one to present the idea of burying the bodies? But they do come out of the trees together with shovels, so this could just be me picking at straws.

Let's talk about gender roles though. In these religious settings it's not uncommon for the people in it to look toward the idea of man and woman, where the man brings home the bread and the woman looks after the house. We could argue that Jeri does more to maintain the illusion of nothing wrong ever happening at the camp, but that this was Boy Jerry's idea all along. In the NMT2 episode there's a scene where Jerry tells Jeri this line:

"I don't think you've thought this through, Girl Jeri. [...] No, they're gonna poke around. And they're gonna find everything. You ready for that? For the whole town to know what you did, dirty girl?"

Like I've mentioned before, Boy Jerry blames Jeri for getting pregnant with Lil Jerrie. This type of sentiment isn't uncommon, blaming a woman for getting pregnant while not bothering to put any of that blame on the man who impregnated her. In the scene with the quote Boy Jerry is using their shared beliefs to control Jeri and maintain their status quo, keeping her under his grasp to keep himself above her. I bring all of this up because I see her being called Girl Jeri as an extension of that want for control. Hell, it could be even worse. Jerry calling himself Boy Jerry to soften his own actions, whilst calling Jeri, Girl Jeri to belittle her. If Lil Jerrie is around 20, the Jerries are possibly around their 40s.

Jeri's a grown woman. She's a grown woman being called a girl, being treated like a girl, do I have to explain how that can be insulting? I don't think so. We can see from how Boy Jerry talks to her that he calls the shots, and he wants her to listen to him and not put up a fight on how he wants things done. I'm sure there's a part of him that does care about Jeri on some level, but when it comes to the potential of people finding out about Lil Jerrie/Lumberaxe, about the number of dead kids on their hands? He's going to strong arm Jeri into doing what he wants. Jeri is a doormat to Boy Jerry, and he will stomp on her to clean his own boots.

So who is Jeri?

Jeri is traumatized. She is belittled and talked down to. She is forced into a skewed sense of what it means to be a woman, and she is stifled by it. Jeri is a victim, a murder accomplice, a camp director, and a mother. She is fearful, and puts up a front of cheeriness for the sake of the campers she looks after. She carries so much love in her heart for these kids, and she wants to teach them and guide them and impart as much good as she can into each summer at camp. She is scared, because she knows what will happen if any of them "fall from grace" like she did years ago. Jeri looks at each dead camper like a version of herself, and she cannot handle the guilt that comes with each shovelful of dirt she lays over their bodies. And worst of all?

She thinks it's all her fault.

[maddiethedog2]

The Birthday - Part 3

As awareness started to wash over me again, I smiled. I felt good. I was relaxed, comfortable, and more happy then I could remember being in years. The events of earlier in the day felt like a distant nightmare. Being tied down, diapered, and gagged with a pacifier all felt like a dream. I thought to myself, maybe it was. Being forcefully babied by my wife did sound like something my fucked up subconscious would spit up.

So, to test this hypothesis, without opening my eyes, I tried to move my hands. One at a time, I pulled each of my hands to my body, and, to my surprise and delight, I wasn't met with any resistance. I tried the same thing with my feet, pulling my knees up to my chest. Just like with my hands and arms, I could move my feet and legs freely. Maybe this morning was all just a dream?

Feeling a familiar pressure in my bladder, I turned my body and sat up on the edge of my bed, the comforter still sitting on my lap. I looked around the room and nothing has changed from what I remembered prior to this morning. There were no restraints left on the bed. There weren't blindfolds or other BDSM supplies left on my nightstand. The room was clean, other than the bed being dishevelled from my sleeping in it, and was lit by a warm, late afternoon light.

Give the state of the room, I finally concluded that the events from earlier in the day must have been a bad dream. So, with my bladder aching for relief, I stood up and began walking to the bathroom. For some reason, I didn't notice the crinkling noise at every step I took or the pronounced waddle that I had with each step. I didn't even look at my reflection in the mirror as I hurriedly scuttled to my destination. My whole focus was on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible to relieve myself. My need to pee was growing stronger much faster.

It didn't take long for my eyes to fall on my goal. The porcelain throne of my relief lay just before me. However, as I reached down to pull down my boxers, I was interrupted by a voice.

"Oh, good! You're awake! How did the birthday boy sleep?" I hear my wife's soft voice gently intone behind me.

At the sound of her voice, I turn around suddenly and face her. I can't help but smile. Despite the horrible nightmare I had earlier, she looks incredibly sexy, wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, low-cut on top to expose her ample cleavage, and cut-high on the bottom to show off her legs. I am a lucky man, I think to myself.

"I sweept guud! Danks!" I lisped out in response to Melody's question. I was oblivious to the large rubber nipple occupying my mouth, making it difficult for me to pronounce words properly. Melody giggled in response as she walked closer to me.

For some reason, as she came closer, a sensation of fear sent a shiver down my spine. Has she always seemed so much bigger than me? I thought. Before I could dwell on that thought though, Melody began to speak again.

"I am so glad to hear that baby! I wouldn't want you getting cranky on your big day. But, I have a question, why are you in the bathroom?" She asked, curiously, with a hint of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

"I've gotta pee," I responded, still oblivious to the object occupying my mouth, "I'll finish dat, den come see j'you." Melody's smile became predatory.

"Oh, baby, you didn't need to come hide in here when you potty! You can just go whenever you want to!" She said.

"What?" I lisped out, confused.

"Just make your pee-pees and poo-poos wherever you want, love. You don't need to hide like a naughty toddler. I won't judge you for using your diaper, that is what it's for!" Melody said.

At those words, my head swam. I became slightly dizzy. I grabbed the wall, and, for the first time, looked down at myself.

Like I expected, I was mostly naked expect for my underwear. My hairy, somewhat pasty dad bod on full display. What I didn't expect was the underwear I was wearing. Around my waist where, after discounting the days earlier events as a bad dream, I expected to see boxers, hung a gigantic white and pastel blue diaper adorned with a cartoon teddy bear laying on alphabet blocks. The giant, babyish garment dropped wetly between my legs. The blue line of the wetness indicator declaring for everyone who could see it that I had already thoroughly soaked the garments padding.

My mouth gaped open as I stared at myself in disbelief. As my lips parted, a pacifier that I had also not been aware of up until that point, fell to the bathroom tile accompanied by a line of drool leading directly to my parted lips.

Realization hit me like a freight train. My nightmare wasn't a dream. I was still living it.

"What the fuck, Mommy?" I said to Melody as I looked down at my wet diaper and drool covered pacifier. "Wait, why did I call you Mommy? Mommy. Mommy. Mama!" Despite my best efforts, I had discovered that, despite my best efforts otherwise, I couldn't call Melody anything but Mommy or Momma now.

I looked back up at my wife, who was now grinning from ear to ear. The totality if my situation was starting to dawn on me. If what I thought was a dream had actually happened, then, I had eventually fallen asleep with those damned headphones on. And, if that had happened, I must have given in. I'd been hypnotized.

Melody laughed as she watched the wheels turning in my head. As the depths of how fucked I was hit me, she put words to my thoughts.

"That's right baby, you fell asleep listening to Mommy's special music, and now I'm in control. You're just like the poor girls you torture in your demented little stories. You are completely and utterly at my whim."

My bladder still ached, and I almost released it in fear at my wife's words. A part of me thought that was curiously. If I had been hypnotized, why did I still have any control of my bodily functions. It didn't take long for that question to be answered.

"Don't worry though, baby, I didn't take too much from you, yet," Melody continued. "Really, I'll I've done so far is to make you a little less observant of your situation when you woke up and made sure you address me properly this weekend."

Those changes didn't sound too bad to me. However, Melody's use of the word 'yet,' was not lost on me.

"That is not to say that I can't do more if you don't behave," my wife continued. "It'll be much more fun if you know you are choosing to be my stinky little baby boy for the weekend, rather than being forced to."

"Fuck that, Mommy! I will not just lay down and be your perfect little baby! I will not just be humiliated like that! Plus, I am not just going to lay down and let you tie me up and hypnotize me again," I spat out. To emphasize my point, I reached for the tapes on my diaper, moving to rip them up in a show of defiance. However, before I could get a good grip on the tapes, Melody spoke again.

"Mommy says freeze," Melody said firmly.

I froze. Suddenly, I couldn't move. My terror started to build. This hypnosis clearly ran deeper than I expected. Regardless, I would not just give in to my wife's carefully designed torture. If anyone was supposed to choose to be the defenseless adult baby, it was her, not me. Letting myself give in and capitulate so easily would make me no better than the fictional women I wrote about in my smut. With renewed determination, I rolled my eyes up to look directly at my wife with, what I hoped, was a look of defiance and control in my eyes.

"Let me be clear, mister," Melody said with her hands on her hips, "You will be wearing and using your diapers this weekend one way or another." Melody continues to lecture me like I've seen her lecture our kids 1000 times, "You may think you have some control in this situation. That is an illusion. Like a real baby, you only have as much control as Mommy says. And, like a real baby, you will do what Mommy says."

The lecture has little effect on me. Despite this show of power, I was still certain my mind was strong enough, mature enough, to break my wife's hypnosis. I continued to ineffectually glare at her from my frozen position.

"This is what is going to happen. I am going to release you. You are going to prove to me that you are going prove to me that you can be a good baby for Mommy. If you don't, I am going to show you how much control I really have," Melody informed me.

She walked closer as she gave me further instructions. Despite my resolve to maintain my dignity, I still couldn't help but feel like her tiny frame was somehow looking over my much larger one as she spoke.

"You already told Mommy you have to make pee-pee. When I release you, you are going to prove to me you are a good baby, deserving of maintaining the control you have, by wetting your pants, do you understand?"

I just glared in response. Partially because I couldn't move my mouth or nod my head, but partially, and I would like to think this was the larger part, out of obstinance. Melody, however, choose to take my lack of response as acquiescence.

"Good boy. Mommy says you can move," Melody said.

I stumbled a little as my muscles loosened and I regained the ability to freely move.

"Now, wet yourself," she commanded.

"No!" I asserted, "I am not your fucking baby doll."

I reached for the tape of the soggy diaper wrapped around my waist again, determined to remove it and use the toilet like the adult I am. Once again, before I could make any progress, Melody interrupted me.

"Mommy says freeze," she commanded. I once again found myself reverted to a living, breathing statue. I let out a gutteral growl from my throat, the only noise I could easily make.

Melody leaned over, lovingly placed one hand on my cheek, and made eye contact with me.

"That was very, very naughty baby boy. I hoped that just freezing you was all you were going to need to be a good boy for me, but, apparently, you need Mommy to teach you a lesson," she said with a fringe of disappointment in her voice. "I am going to make sure you don't fight using your cute little diapys any more." Melody reached around me and lightly slapped my diapered ass for emphasis.

If I could have, I would have swallowed in nervousness. I have read, and written, enough ABDL smut to know what she was going to do next. She would say 'Mommy says you aren't potty trained,' or something similar, and I would release my very full bladder into my already wet diaper, causing it to leak over the floor. I'd be embarrassed. However, from my position, at least Melody and I would know that I hadn't given in, she had to force me to set myself.

Unfortunately, my premonition of what was going to happen next was wrong.

Melody stopped making eye contact me and leaned closer into me, placing her lips next to right ear. She then softly whispered her next command.

"Mommy says you are terrified of potties. Mommy says you are certain something horrible will happen the next time you use one."

Suddenly, a new phobia took root in my psyche. When I thought about toilets, my body filled with an irrational feeling of dread. Despite my overwhelming need to pee, I was suddenly certain in the depths of my soul, that if I actually used the porcelain monster behind me, my life would be in danger.

This new fear created a strange cognitive dissonance in my head. I still DID NOT want to use the diaper strapped around my waist like the pathetic man-toddler Melody wanted me to be. However, the idea of using any sort of 'potty' filled me with such a sense of existential dread that I almost found myself wetting my pants out of fear at the thought of it.

Melody's lesson wasn't over though.

"Mommy says that you are no stronger than a real toddler and are easily overpowered by me," Melody added.

Still reeling from the first command, the ramifications of the second hypnosis-enforced edict from my wife didn't immediately concern me.

Melody pulled back from my still frozen form and crossed her arms, taking the stance of a mother, about to punish a naughty child.

"Now, baby, you already told me you need to go potty. Also, you have made it abundantly clear you do not want to use your diapers. So, I am going to give you this opportunity to prove you are a big boy. I am going to help you go potty on the big boy potty, doesn't that sound fun? Mommy says unfreeze."

"No, please, no! Mommy, you can't make me. Please, don't make me go near it!" I pleaded desperately as soon as my control came back to me. Fear had taken over my body at my wife's decree. Tears had started to well in my eyes at the thought of sitting on the toilet.

I stated to work my way out of the bathroom in fear, attempting to push my way past Melody. I thought, maybe, if I made it outside, I could pee in a bush or something, and save myself the embarrassment of using the diaper wrapped around my waist as well as the terror that came from potentially using the dreaded potty. Unfortunately, before I could get far, Melody grabbed me. I tried to push past her, but found, as I should have expected, I couldn't use any more force than a toddler would against their mother. My wife was easily able to gain control of me by grabbing my wrists.

"No, no you don't baby! You have made it very clear you want to be a big boy and use the big boy potty, so that is what you are going to do!" Melody said, now dragging me easily by my wrists towards the porcelain monster, sitting menacingly in the corner of the room.

"Please, Mama, please, don't make me! Please don't make me use a toilet!" I started to beg as I ineffectually tried to pull away.

"This is what you wanted, big boy, so this is what you get!" My wife said as she dragged me through our restroom towards the toilet like a toddler who refused to be potty trained.

With each step closer to the toilet, my fear grew. Tears of terror welled up and began to pour from my eyes. I became unable to communicate I'm full sentences. Mucus started to drip from my nose.

"Mama... Please... No... No potty... No... Please no..." I wailed like a tantruming toddler as Melody continued to drag me across the bathroom floor.

When we got within a step of the toilet, my rational mind has given in. I was willing to do anything to avoid having to risk being eaten by the potty monster in front of me. In fear and desperation, I gave in. I let my bladder loose and flooded my already full diaper.

A loud hissing sound began to accompany my wails of terror. I felt the warm, wet urine fill the already saturated padding as I let lose. I then felt the fresh urine, with no where else to go, begin to leak out the leg gatherers of my babyish pants and form a puddle on the ground. The shame I felt at giving in was still overwhelmed by the terror of potentially being forced to sit on or, heaven forbid, use a toilet.

It didn't take long for Melody to notice the puddle growing on the floor. As she held my wrists, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh no! I thought you were a big boy who used the potty? Did you just make pee-pees in your diapy?" Melody said with a look of victory in her eyes. She temporarily relented from dragging me across the bathroom floor, letting me sit my diapered ass in the growing puddle of urine underneath me.

I looked up at her, fear of the toilet, shame that I choose to piss myself rather than use a toilet, and hope that Melody wouldn't force me to use the dreaded 'potty' all drifting through me. I told her the truth.

"Yes, I peed myself," I choked out hopefully through sobs.

"What was that baby? I didn't understand you. If you don't want me to make you use the potty like a big boy, I need you to tell me what you did like the pathetic toddler you are," Melody responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger at being reduced to this, but one glance at the toilet standing less than two feet from where I was sitting, my fear took control again.

"Mommy, me make pee-pees in my diapy! Pwease don't make me use da potty!" I lisped out, unable to keep my desperation and terror from leaking into the last sentence.

My wife just giggled in response.

"Are you sure? You were SO adamant you were a big boy just a couple of minutes ago? Don't you just want to at least TRY to go potty on the potty?" She responded.

My terror spiked again. She wouldn't still force me to sit on that monstrosity would she? I could die!

Desperate to appease the monster that was my wife, I quickly responded.

"No, Mama! Me no want potty! Please, no potty! Me.... Baby."

I let the last word come out quietly. I let my head fall in shame. Melody had defeated me. She had forced me to choose to use my diaper. For all intents and purposes at this point, I was a baby.

Melody smiled. She looked down at me and saw, I am certain, just what I had admitted to being: a giant, pathetic, overgrown toddler, who had flooded his pampers in terror to avoid being potty trained. For fuck sake, I was still sitting in a puddle of my own piss only two feet from the toilet.

"Well, I guess I was right, you're just too little to be potty trained," she said triumphantly.

I didn't respond. Couldn't respond. I had lost. I had chosen to utterly debase myself, rather than use a fucking toilet like an adult. I couldn't claim that I was an adult or even a 'big boy' who was 'already potty trained' to her. The shame I felt at acting like a toddler was almost overpowered by the relief I felt in hearing that my wife wasn't going to try to potty train me.

For now, at least, I would have to be her perfect little man-baby.

[justarandombrit]

I did the thing again. If you missed the livestream but want to know what happened, I wrote down some notes again. (Spoiler warning, obviously, as I will mention who won the death match)

. The Nightmare Time theme is so fucking good

. Xander murdered Grace last death match and won

. James and Matt like wrestling (not each other - the sport)

. BOTTLE IMPS!!!!!!!!!!!!

. WORKIN BOYS GETS RELEASED ON YOUTUBE AT 425,000

. Lmao the backing music is Jane's A Car

. We are the Lords In Black

. HARMONY AND BARRY!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HARMONY SO MUCH

. Ted and Hidgens are a duo lmaoooooo

. Melissa and w o m a n

. Mariah really loved w o m a n

. CCRP set up a water filtration system that pissed people off

. USE IT OR LOSE IT

. Harmony and Barry are just so annoying that Paul and Emma want to fight them

. Paul is the first to die

. Coffee makes Barry stronger

. Jon is the only one who thought Paulkins would win

. Rip Harmony :(

. Paul throws spare change at Harmony and Barry, summoning the Homeless Man, who wins the fight for them

. Bill and Alice get an easybake oven stolen from them by Sherman

. Love Vs Crazy

. Frank and Bill get mistaken for eachother mid-fight

. Sherman is vicious

. Frank wants Sherman to die

. Alice eats Sherman's soul and becomes a little kid again

. Ruth has a crush on Hidgens

. Ted and Hidgens have a dead body???????

. The dead body is a Frankenstein amalgamation of all the Workin Boys

. Frankenruth?????????

. RICHIE HAS THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON HIS SIDE

. Ted and Hidgens win with help from the Workin Boy

. “w o m a n is here!”

“I'm fucking here, bitches”

. Shapiro + Bailey are looking for Roman

. Dog…

. Oh no

. Roman is the dog.

. Melissa and w o m a n die

. MISS HOLLOWEEN!!!!!!!

. Bottle Imps was supposed to be between Forever and Always and Time Bastard

. Bill meets the founder of CCRP

. CHARLES IS IN IT

. CHARLES FOUNDED CCRP

. HARVARD LAW SCHOOL COMMUNITY ORGANISING PRICK?!?!?!?!?

. HOWIE?!?!?!?!?!?

. Bill's been at CCRP 13 years

. Coven’s Communication Research and Power

. Charles wants… ALL the money

. If it's actually Billted oh my god…

. Jane didn't die, but their dog did so she divorced him

. THEY'VE COVERED THE PROTESTS LIVE AT THE HATCHETFIELD KENNEL

. THE PROBLEMATIC PUPPY BIT SOLOMON LAUTER

. DONNA WANTS THE DOG TO DIE

. THE DOG IS IN THE CAR

. THE DOG CAR RUNS OVER DAN AND DONNA

. GOT MY PAW ON THE GAS

. Everyone is cheating on each other

. Ethan used to bully Pete

. Pete and Steph don't tip

. Lex flips out

. Lex suddenly develops a gluten intolerance????

. Jason and Kyle save Steph and Pete

. Max breaks into Camp Idontwannabang, Grace reads him Bible stories, they're about to kiss, then Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri burst in to kill them

. Grace is so Jesus loving that Lumberaxe kills the Jerries

. MISS HOLLOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

. Excorcism???

. “Christ’s in hell with your mother”

Riley

. Miss Holloway has a witch hat!!!!!

. Evil mask??

. Riley's in hell smh

. “You basic bitch”

. MISS HOLLOWAY THROWS HERSELF INTO A WOOD CHIPPER

. Joey is Ted again

. YELLOW JACKET

. Alice and Bill get pissed about Paulkins trash talking Mamma Mia

. Joey: “This is the future the libs want”

. General MacNamara drops in from a helicopter and shoots Bill and Alice in the head

. James will murder Paul and Emma himself if they survive again

. Ted accidentally confesses to murdering Ruth and Richie

. Joey: “Here's the thing, ACAB”

. Thrash murders Shapiro for being a cop lmaooooooo

. Sam’s a dick to Tim at Pizza Pete’s

. Hannah straight up murders Charlotte and Sam

. I have to go to bed :( (Stopped right before Holyghost v Lautity)

. I'm baaaa-aaaaaack! It's the next day, I have pancakes, and I'm just realising I accidentally wrote Lautity instead of Lautski… I just love them too much

. I haven't checked Tumblr cause I don't want to be spoiled for who wins

. OH SHIT WORKIN BOYS IS ON YOUTUBE

. I'm back on the livestream, I'll check that out later

. They're at Perky's Buds, Grace has dragged Max there for a protest, Steph dragged Pete there for weed

. Grace wants Steph to go to heaven

. Five minutes for A THOUSAND DOLLARS?!?!?!?

. THEY DID IT IN ONE MINUTE

. Joey: “You horny little fucks”

. Max just murders Steph and Pete

. Max wouldn't want to hit a girl, Ziggs comes out, fails to land a single shot on them, but attracts the nighthawks which peck out Steph and Pete’s eyes

. Nicole Rodriguez is so fucking talented damnnnnnnnn, also I love Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise)

. This song will always destroy me emotionally :(

. Why is Joey doing a British accent lmaoooo

. This isn't the next scene, but is after it chronologically

. BRENDA!!!!!!!!!!

. BRENDA WORKS AT MISS RETRO'S

. If only it was a real werewolf… Wayward Guide, anyone?

. “Shit-eating grin” is my favourite Americanism. It's so funny I love it

. I kinda love Tucker

. More skidoos???

. Kyle's in college?????????????? Damn

. Even Stacy's in college

. Miss Holloway: “Cause the 80’s were bitchin’ ”

. Oh nooooo :(

. Miss Holloway: “The intranet”

. Oh god

. Oh shit

. Oh fuck

. Even though I knew this was going to happen I'm still devastated

. Oh god :((((((((

. God we need NMT3

. Joey: “Is this a bad time to announce Curt and Kim are getting divorced?”

. VIRGINITY ROCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Tedgens are stealing from CCRP, Paulkins are about to go on a date, they find them, and Hidgens goes all murder-crazy

. Corey: “Some of us are wrong and many of us are right”

. Joey: “Jon, Ted is gooning all over this office”

. Jon: “Great job everybody, all the food is gonna be poisoned next week”

. Goddamnit I just got spoiled for it :(

. Tedgens manage to find the Bastard's Box and trap Paul and Emma in it

. Hidgens hears Workin Boys coming from the box, but Ted stops him from touching it

. Tom and Becky want to buy the Waylon Place, and find Grace and Max burying Pete and Steph

. Tom coaches the Hatchetfield Nighthawks??????????

. Gen Z Vs Millennials

. Someone pulled $800 from the Kickstarter :(

. Will arrived literally as soon as Max died

. Grace and Max are ghosts now

. Meg Lloyd is also insanely talented

. Will loves Tom and Becky

. Sauce Saturday

. RUN AWAY WITH MEEEEEEE

. They're in the Starlight theatre, Wilbur is there for some reason

. “He was driving the car that killed your dog”

. NOOOOOOO JENNY

. LAUREN!!!!!

. Wilbur just straight up cheats so Tedgens win

. OHHHHHHH TED VS HIDGENS

. Ted always dies though :/

. A girl Miss Holloway saved has died

. MISS HOLLOWAY IS RENEGOTIATING HER DEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Lore….

. Miss Holloway chops off her toes?????

. AND DIPS THEM IN CHOCOLATE?????????

. AN OLD POP STAR THE WORLD’S FORGOTTEN

. That's what that tune is called?

. OH MY GOD THE LORDS

. I NEED TO DRAW THIS

. Why do the Lords eat toes

. Blinky has a mouth???????

. Nibbly lmao

. Mariah: “Lauren, you're muted, baby”

Lauren (muted): “FUCK”

. Blinky, my love

. This is so fanfiction coded I love it

. Tinky likes Miss Holloway????? Duke really was right about everyone being in love with her

. I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY

. Lmao Tinky

. Double calculators, and an abacus????

. Blinky (covering his ears): That's a bad word!

. BLINKY HAS EARS??????

. HER NAME

. BE A PALLY WAL

. OH MY GOD MISS HOLLOWAY

. Ted wins!!!

. THEY'RE GONNA DO DND

. Well.

. Nightmare Time Cover!!!!!!!! Needy Beast, my love

. Oh god that was amazing

[pokemon-teacology]

I know I was supposed to post something around Halloween but I'm ignoring that this year (maybe I'll upload a picture of my costume within the next few days) in favour of like,,,

Why don't we ever talk about the Darkest Day? The most recent one that happened within almost every living person's memory???

I'll tag this with all the appropriate tags so folks don't have to read this if they don't want to, but holy shit I haven't seen anyone talk about this since it happened???

Like,,, it's a story that we heard as little kids, the worst thing that ever happened to our region, a terrifying period of time that destroyed livelihoods by blocking the sun from the sky and making our Pokémon companions huge, an enormous Pokémon (a monster, they'd said. Bigger than the tallest scyscraper, coiling into the shape of a hurricane, bright red like the beams it ripped from the ground beneath our feet, a huge, gaping maw at the centre of the enormous hand-like structure that made up its head, stronger than anything we could have ever imagined) draining energy from the earth and poisoning the land. I used to have nightmares as a tiny child about this legend that we never really stopped talking about. As you get older, you reason that it's just an old story, that it didn't actually happen, and even if it did it's unlikely that anything that huge will happen again, even as you hear whispers of terrible events happening in other regions, yknow?

But then it did happen again.

We're lucky as hell that it only lasted for the better part of a day, that our champions (former and current) were able to fight it off?? Obviously there wasn't a huge amount of information given to the public other than "chairman rose is now a wanted criminal for causing this" and "yeah that huge fucking gigantimaxed Pokémon you all saw was real and very dangerous and just as terrifying as the legends, and is now in the possession of a 14 year old".

Seeing the sky go dark, the red beams of light, the massive Pokémon everywhere, with no sign of whether or not it'd be fixed, no word from our government other than "stay inside, the champion has it handled". I was scared for the safety of my family, my friends, my home and everything that I've ever known. Hell, the little kids I babysat when I was in secondary school were at the forefront of it, a boy that I grew up with from when we were littlr babies fought against it head-on. No matter how miraculous it was that they fixed it, it was fucking terrifying, and I haven't seen a single person from Galar talk about it here.

I'm just tired of people pretending it wasn't a big deal, like it wasn't the scariest thing most of us will ever experience. It felt like the ground beneath our feet was being ripped up, and for several weeks after, we were still dealing with the aftermath. It's still affecting us. The power vacuum from chairman rose and a pretty sizeable chunk of Macro Cosmos' higher ups being exposed as corrupt, a new champion and the old one becoming the head of the league, the retirement of our professor in favour of a new one (a good one, but a new one nonetheless). So much happened within the span of like 3 months and nobody's talking about how fucking scary it was.

Anyway, sorry for the heavier subject after being gone for a while, it's just been in my head for a bit, and I figured I'd talk about it here, if nothing else than to maybe just get it off my chest.

[guinea-pig16]

Something Better || Chapter 1: Hope

Ghost x Reader x Soap

Fic is below the cut!! Please enjoy !!

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Word count: 2,100+

Warnings: Angsty thoughts, mentions of poor eating habits, not taking care of self

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The steady beeping of your IV was the only thing keeping you company as you laid there in the hospital bed. You stared numbly at the ceiling, mind empty. Sunlight drifted through your window and gently laid upon your legs. But you couldn’t feel its warmth. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Your life fell into shambles the moment those bullets entered your back. A mission gone wrong had left you with a permanent limp and nerve damage in your right leg. Your Major had personally visited you and relieved you of your duties. Years of work and service, gone in an instant. Now, you’re stuck with nothing but fucked up lower back and a debilitated leg.

Your teammates had visited you over the course of your recovery, offering their condolences and sympathy, leaving you with vases full of flowers and cards with sweet notes. Not like it really mattered much to you. They could continue on with their lives as normal. They could continue with their careers as normal. Not you. Not anymore.

Your days were plagued with aches and pains, and your nights full of nightmares. You woke up nearly every night with the same dream of those damn bullets piercing through your body. When you weren’t wracked with nightmares, you were left laying there unable to sleep. The only thing you had to look forward to was physical therapy as they tried to get your stiff leg back into shape.

Days dragged on into weeks, and you felt more like a shell after each sunrise and sunset. It was torturous. What were you to do now? You had your dream job, you were helping people. And now that’s all gone, and you were left here with nothing. You had to start from scratch all over again. Where would you go? What would you do? These questions floated endlessly through your head as the days went by.

You could hear the nurses whisper about you, about how the bags under your eyes grew larger with each passing day. How you rarely spoke. How you would just sit there, vacant, empty, looking at nothing. You would hear the concern and pity in their voices as they spoke about how you would eat just enough to not be force fed. How you would drink just enough to not be pumped full of liquids. How you did the bare minimum to survive.

You hated it. You hated hearing their pitying voices, seeing their sympathetic eyes wash over you. You wanted to scream at them, yell, cry, do anything to make it stop. But you didn’t have the will for that anymore. So you just sat there, and tried to ignore it.

Your teammates eventually stopped visiting you. Either because they got too busy, or they were unnerved by your devoid state. Good. You were glad they were gone. You wished to be alone anyways. The loneliness was comforting now. It allowed you to wrap yourself in a thick blanket of misery and sorrow. You couldn’t do that with people around. You watched as the flowers by your bedside wilted and were carried away by nurses. You watched as the cards given to you collected dust, and were eventually thrown out. You watched as you imploded in on yourself, becoming a black hole that devoured light itself.

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It was like any other Tuesday. Or was it Wednesday? You couldn’t remember, didn’t care to remember anymore. You had just returned to your room after physical therapy, reluctantly using your cane given to you by the hospital. You hated using it. It made you feel weak. But until you got stronger again, you couldn’t walk more than 10 steps without it.

You sat on your bed as your nurse prattled on about some gossip around the hospital. You didn’t particularly care, but you know she thought it helped you to have someone to talk to. So, you let her talk about anything she wanted.

“Oh, by the way, you might want to get changed into something nicer. You have a visitor who’s waiting down in the lobby!” She said excitedly. That piqued your interest. A visitor? You haven’t had a visitor in weeks. You looked at the nurse curiously, who practically beamed at your change in expression. You let her pick out a nice outfit for you to change into. It was nothing flashy, just a plain button up and a pair of jeans. Though, you insisted on changing yourself, despite the nurse’s protests.

You hobbled over to the elevator, your nurse close to your side, leaning on your cane like a life-line. You were nervous. It was the first time you had even felt something besides self-pity and anger in weeks. You and your nurse entered the elevator and she pressed the lobby button. You shuffled where you stood slightly, straightening your shirt, messing with your hair, generally trying to look your best. The nurse glanced at you and smiled slightly. You suspect it was because she was happy to see you actually do something for a change.

The elevator dinged and opened to the lobby. You stepped out, leaning on your cane for support as your nurse gently guided you out. You scanned the lobby, looking for any familiar faces. Then your heart stopped. You made eye contact. It was Kate fucking Laswell. The, Kate Laswell. The one who got whatever was assigned to her done, perfect, and more. You swallowed a lump in your throat. What on Earth would she want with someone like you?

You stood straighter and walked up to her, not using your cane much to your leg’s and the nurse's dismay. You saluted her like you were trained to do, posture perfect and feet together. Muscle memory. Laswell smiled at you.

“At ease, soldier. There’s no need for formalities.” She said, and you relaxed your posture slightly. Your nurse patted your shoulder.

“Alrighty! I’ll leave you two to it. Call if you need anything, dear.” You simply nodded in response, and with that, your nurse walked off, leaving you and Laswell alone. There was silence for a moment. You weren’t sure if you should say something or…

“Would you like to get some coffee? There’s a nice café in the lobby.” Laswell asks, breaking the silence. You gave her a curt nod, and the two of you walked over to the café. She ordered for the two of you, just two medium cups of black coffee. She found a small table in the corner, out of the way of people. As you sat down, her hand reached out to take your cane, but you simply held a hand out, the gesture saying you had it. You sat down, secretly relieved for the break. It took longer than you thought for the coffee to be made, making the two of you stand more than your leg would have liked.

You and Laswell were silent as you both sipped your coffee. You savored its warmth and roast. When was the last time you had coffee? Was it that morning before your last miss- No. You’re not going to think about that. After a minute or two, Laswell cleared her throat quietly.

“I read your file. You did… You did a very brave thing there.” She glanced at your face. All you did was nod in thanks, not making eye contact. She stayed silent for a moment, before reaching into the bag she carried and pulling out documents. You eyed them curiously.

“I came here today to give you an offer.” You turned fully towards her, attention captured. Laswell flipped through the documents, and slid a couple towards you. You picked one up and skimmed through it. It was a debrief of one of the missions you completed before your injury. You looked at the others. They were all debriefs of your missions. You looked up at her, brow raised in question.

“You did some incredible things in the task force you were in. You executed every order effortlessly and perfectly. Not many soldiers can say that.” You glanced down at your leg. If she was asking you to come back-

“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to rejoin the task force.” You relaxed slightly. As much as you’d love to, you know you’d be a burden on whatever team they stuck you in.

“But I am asking you to come out of retirement.” You perked up, looking Laswell directly in the eyes. She leaned forward over the table. “Look, I know you’re still in recovery, but you’ve got talent. Talent we need.” She slipped her hand back into her bag and pulled out another document. She slid it across the table into your awaiting hands. It was a contract. “We’re offering you a position as an Intelligence officer. You’d be trained by me and assigned to one of our task forces as their strategist.” Your eyes widened. The CIA is offering you… a job?

You opened your mouth. “But… Why me…? Why now…?” Your voice came out dry and slightly raspy from disuse. Laswell smiled slightly, as if she expected you to ask that.

“Well, after your discharge, we had some very persistent soldiers vying for you to come back. They testified for your resilience and planning. And, well, they were very persuasive. After looking at your files and debriefs, my superiors think you’d be an excellent fit for the position.” Your heart swelled. Your… Your teammates had pestered their superiors so you could come back… A small grin tugged on your lips.

Laswell watched you for a moment. “You were an excellent soldier, one of our best. We could use someone like you in our Intelligence offices. Hell, I could use someone like you.” She patted the contract with one hand. “Think about it. Give me a call when you have an answer.” She handed you a small card with her name and number on it. She downed the rest of her coffee in one swig. She collected the documents she showed you and stood up. You followed, grabbing your cane.

Laswell stuck out her hand. You took it and she gave you a firm handshake. “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you today, L/N.” The look in her eyes softened slightly. “You could help a lot of people. You can still make a difference, L/N. Never forget that.” At those words, you felt a small weight leave your burdened shoulders. With that, she gave you a curt nod and smile and walked away, out of the hospital.

You stood there for a minute, clutching the contract to your chest, coffee forgotten on the table. You then slowly walked back into the lobby, mind racing. Your nurse spotted you and excitedly ran over.

“Well? How was it? Was it good?” She queried. You stood there for a moment, not saying a word. Then, your face split into a small smile.

“It was… Nice…” You said quietly. You thought you saw a tear form in her eyes once she heard your voice. Man, when was the last time you spoke? She gently took your arm and guided you to the elevator, and for once, you didn’t feel shame needing some help. Your mind was occupied elsewhere, in an area you hadn’t been in awhile. For the first time in weeks, you were thinking about the future in a new light.

Your nurse brought you to your room and left you be, though, not before she let you know you could always call her if you needed assistance. For once, you smiled at her as she left, and you swear you saw her choke up. You sat in a chair next to your window, and looked outside. You felt the sunshine on your skin, and closed your eyes as you savored its warmth. You looked back at the contract. Could you do this…? Should you? How much help could you really be?

You sat there for hours, lost in your own thoughts, only interrupted as your nurse brought you lunch, then dinner, then snuck you some desert. You ate more than usual, making her very happy. Your nurse helped you change for bed, then insisted you lay down. She gave you some painkillers for your leg, and wished you goodnight.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling. But your eyes weren’t vacant, they were filled with thought. You were still mulling over the offer, trying to decide whether or not you should accept. On one hand, this position would give you back your purpose, your drive. It would let you help people again. While on the other, what if you accepted and messed up? What if you led people to their deaths? What if you caused more damage than good? You played this back and forth deep into the night.

Then, you decided.

What else did you have to lose?

You rolled over, and pulled your blankets to your chin, letting out a sigh. That night, you slept peacefully for the first time in weeks. And you finally felt something you never thought you’d feel again.

Hope.

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Hellooooo !!!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter !!! It was rlly fun to write !!! Its so interesting exploring the sorrowful side of humanity in writing. Anyways, I know this is a Ghost x Reader x Soap fic, but this is also a slowburn !!! So kick back and relax and enjoy the ride, cause it’s gonna be a long one !! People can still be added to the taglist btw !!! Ciao !!! 💕💕

XOXOXOXOX 💕