#to be grateful though the reason therapy never worked for me before was like. no therapist would ever engage with me on my own level.

[quietwingsinthesky]

my therapist: you sure seem to be coming back a lot to the way that the timeless child episode skimmed over the doctor being killed over and over again to use them. is there something we need to talk about here.

me: no im normal.

me: but do you think anyone even noticed them changing each time or do you think they did and kept quiet about it because the work being done was too great to lose to protect the timeless child from being used.

my therapist: 🤨

[hayakawalove]

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

Summary: You're happy with your husband, you swear. Except you actually aren't. You're so unhappy in fact, that you find yourself in a cheap bar late one night. Two men find you, and it leads to a night of fun.

A/N: Yeah. It goes without saying that I DON'T CONDONE CHEATING! I don't know why I wrote this. I actually used to really hate cheating fics, so much so that I would filter the tag out. They used to trigger me super bad. I'm not sure why I wrote this. Maybe as a way of doing exposure therapy, maybe just to practice writing things I normally don't write. Whatever the case is, here you go. I hope y'all enjoy! As always, I appreciate your guys comments so much, seriously!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Cheating (You Cheat on Your Husband), Hand Jobs, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Protected Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Cum Swallowing, Hook-Up, No Strings Attached, Reader Feels Bad (Doesn't Last Long), Hair-pulling, Female Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 6,154

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

You’re happy. 

You really are. 

Those are the words you find yourself repeating like a mantra, a self assuring prayer on a loop in your mind. 

You have a great life. 

A wonderful job, a nice house, the perfect husband. 

People live their entire lives searching for what you’ve been so graciously dealt. 

So why did it feel like you were lying to yourself when you repeated that mantra? 

The words felt uneasy in your mind at first, the weight of them feeling unknown on your tongue. You’d never really thought about it before. Were you happy? The more you told yourself that you were, the more the saying turned your stomach sour. 

You were happy. You were happy. You were happy. 

You weren’t happy. 

At first, it began like a tingle in the back of your throat. Not disruptive, but most certainly there, no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. It was the most obvious when you felt like you should be grateful for something.

Before going to bed at night, finishing a big project at work, when your husband kissed your cheek. 

The doubt simmers in your gut, barely a blip on your radar.

It was hardly noticeable, until it wasn’t. 

The thought became a raging forest fire, drowning out all your other senses. Every day was the same. It was so boring. Nothing lit a spark in you. 

You weren’t sure how to even remedy it. Not only that, but you would listen to your friends talk about their lives, and how it was monotonous for them as well. Maybe life just had to be like this. 

There’s a pit in your stomach as you walk to your car. You really didn’t want to go home tonight. Not when you knew your loving husband would be waiting for you; not when you knew you had all the reasons in the world to be happy, but you just weren’t. 

“Hey, sexy lady!” A man’s voice rings out around you. 

When you flick your head around you see a man who’s much older than you sizing you up. Your knee jerk reaction is to be disgusted, but you aren’t, not fully at least. 

You’re flattered. 

When was the last time someone paid you a compliment like that? Your husband told you you were beautiful all the time, but it felt rehearsed, like the words had lost their meaning. Sure, a stranger calling you sexy was a bit half assed, but at least it was real.

“Thank you! But I’m married-“ you reply, even though the man is long gone by now. 

You straighten your shoulders and open your car door, accepting the fluke. 

~~~

You’re craving the attention again. 

You feel like an addict craving their next hit. You didn’t want anything else, other than a bit of attention from a stranger. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Over the next couple of days you craft a plan. You were going to get dressed up and go to a bar, nothing major. You just wanted to put yourself in a situation where you could receive attention, maybe get a couple of compliments. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Your husband texted you to inform you that he would be at the office late tonight. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that shoots through you when you tell him that it’s okay, you wouldn’t be doing much anyway. 

Liar.

The dress you’re wearing feels a bit too tight, fitting to your form like another layer of skin. You hadn’t worn it in years. There never was any need to. You and your husband didn't go on dates much anymore, instead choosing to settle down for movie nights or dinner. 

Your makeup is more extreme than usual. It highlights all your favorite features, and the colors are a bit dramatic. Even though it felt different, you had to admit that you looked good. 

You fiddle with your ring, watching the way it catches the light. Reluctantly, you pull it off and put it in your purse. You feel naked not wearing it. Hopefully, more people would compliment you if you didn’t have it on.

You sling your purse over your shoulder and turn your phone off, you wouldn’t be needing it anyway, sliding your high heels on. 

The bar you decide on is on the furthest edge of town, in a much seedier neighborhood. On any chosen day you wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of town, and neither would any of your loved ones. Which is precisely why you chose to be there in the first place. 

Nobody would recognize you. Not that it would be a problem if they did, you remind yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong. 

The bar is loud as you enter, eager voices discussing a variety of topics over cheap alcohol. The smell of liquor is strong, the astringent scent nearly burning the inside of your nostrils. 

You slide over to the counter and take a seat on one of the rickety stools. It’d be a miracle if it doesn’t break under your weight, it looks like it’s two seconds from collapsing on its own. 

You order a mixed drink and smile as the bartender passes it to you, your heart fluttering at the way he grins back. 

Validation springs throughout your body. It feels like you’re being rejuvenated, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

See? What you were doing wasn’t so bad. 

“What's a fine young thing like yourself doing over here?” 

When you turn around to catch a glimpse of the man shamelessly hitting on you, you feel your stomach turn. You had never seen someone so attractive before. 

A head full of soft white hair, messy in an almost endearing way. You can’t catch a glimpse of his eyes due to the sunglasses that rest on his nose. On anyone else it would come off as douchey, it was dark out and you were inside a bar, but for him it seemed oddly fitting. 

There’s a cocky grin on his face as he leans against the counter where you sit. He’s close enough that you can smell the soap he used to scrub himself with. An intoxicating scent, cedarwood and bergamot.

“Enjoying some alone time.” You reply, deciding on playing hard to get. 

It would be nice to see him continue to try, even if you didn’t make it easy. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just had to tell you how gorgeous you were.” 

He didn’t sound sorry, didn’t look it either.

“I know.” You take a small sip of you drink, staring up at him as you do so. 

You would never be so forward in your day to day life. You much preferred to be humble. Humble was cute, humble was safe. 

You were tired of being safe. 

The strangers lips spread even further and you catch a glimpse of him running his tongue along his teeth. You can’t see, but you feel like he’s staring down at you, gaze assessing your features. You hope he likes what he sees. 

“Sir, can I get another one of these for her?” He flags down the bartender and motions to your drink. 

“I didn’t tell you I wanted another one.” You reply, stirring the drink you’re currently nursing. 

The man beside you raises a brow, before sliding out a wad of cash. He hands it to the bartender without looking away from you, confidence leaking from his pores. 

“You shouldn’t have to. A gentleman should be able to notice.”

You feel a heavy weight drop on top of you. He was right. True gentlemen should take note of the small things, right? 

Your husband hardly ever did. 

The crack inside your heart begins to deepen; you know there’s not going to be a way back from this. Do you mind that you won’t be able to recover? 

No. 

You don’t. 

You grin at him and toss back the rest of your drink before taking the new one from him. It’s cold against your hand, a sickly sweet scent wafting up from the cup. 

“Who’s your little friend?” A second voice enters.

You flick your eyes from the man beside you to see who’s talking. Long black locks and chestnut eyes. 

“Suguru. This is…” The first man talks.

You state your name, nerves beginning to take hold in your chest. When it was just one of them it was fine, but two of them? 

“I’m Satoru Gojo, and this is Suguru Geto.” The original man says. “Pleased to meet you.” He finishes, dipping his face down to look at you above his glasses. 

Electric cerulean greets you, nearly taking your breath away. 

He smirks and pushes his glasses back up before tossing a look over his shoulder towards his friend.

Suguru circles around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes follow his movements. It feels like he’s sizing you up, a dark gleam in his gaze as he settles in the spot beside you.

It feels a bit like the walls are caving in on you, except the metaphorical walls are in the form of two bulky men. 

You wanted attention, that much was true, but you weren’t sure you were ready for this amount. 

“What brings you to this dive bar?” The one called Suguru questions. 

You take a sip of your drink as you ponder a response. What should you tell them? You were here with friends? The truth? 

“Needed to get out of the house.” You decide on. 

Well, it wasn’t completely wrong. 

“So you decided to come to this shit hole?” Satoru says. 

“You decided to come here too, didn’t you?” You reply back.

Satoru looks away, his bottom lip pouting out. It was a shit hole. The two men looked oddly out of place. Their clothes looked to be worth more than half your rent, and there was an effortless elegance flowing from them. You were sure that they belonged anywhere else. 

“We were just passing through town, and this was the first place we found.” Suguru responds for Satoru. 

You wonder how true that statement is. 

Could it be that the both of them are also running away from something in their personal lives? 

You could only hope. 

Maybe it would make you feel less guilty. 

Suguru’s nursing a whiskey now, lips shining in the low light from the tantalizing liquid. It’s a bit hypnotizing, watching the way his lips pucker as he takes measured sips. 

You feel like nothing can break you from the trance you’re in, nothing that is, until something brushes your thighs. It’s Satoru’s fingers, skimming your skin under the guise of tugging your dress down. 

“I like your dress,” Satoru murmurs, his knuckles causing goosebumps to erupt along your thighs. 

You watch as he slowly drags his fingers back, letting your eyes trail up until you reach his face, only to see that he’s already staring at you. 

“Yeah?” You ask, breathless.

Satoru hums and flicks his gaze back down to your legs. There’s lead in your stomach as you watch his pupils flicker. You can only guess what’s on his mind. 

“Say, do you have any plans for the night?” Suguru questions, settling his arm around the back of your chair. 

His thumb brushes against your shoulder, making your breath stagger. The ambiance is more than heavy, a thick understanding settling over the three of you. 

“No, I don't.” You take one last sip of your drink before looking at the boys once more. 

“Want to go have some fun, then?” Satoru asks, an evil glint in his eyes. 

You begin to understand how Eve could not resist the temptation.

“Please,” you all but plead.

You reach a hand out and Satoru laces his fingers in yours, tugging you along until you’re forced to navigate through the crowds in the bar. There’s a heat behind you, and you register it as Suguru’s presence shortly following after you. 

There’s something bubbling up in your stomach, anticipation you think, as you watch the back of Satoru’s head. 

He’s so tall. 

You briefly wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair. Would it be soft? Would he like the way it feels? 

Satoru pushes the bar door open, a gust of wind whipping your face. The sensation almost shocks you to your senses, but Satoru doesn’t allow it. 

He slows down and stops beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re being tugged beside him, smooshed against his lean frame as he walks you to their car. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he comments, whispering into the crown of your head. 

Your stomach flips. You think he may be right. 

Suguru walks ahead and spins keys around his fingers before unlocking the car. You’re unable to recognize the brand, only able to see that it’s expensive. 

Satoru opens the passenger door and you’re greeted with fine black leather. It dawns on you that someone’s going to have to sit in the back. 

How was this going to work? 

Were you supposed to sit in the back? 

Wouldn’t that be weird? 

When you come to, you see that Satoru’s already sitting in the front seat, his hand holding yours as he looks up at you with an expectant gaze. 

“Come on.” He murmurs. 

He pulls you closer, spreading his legs to make room for you. He wants you to sit on his lap? 

You look around, noticing how empty the parking lot is. You were already making bad choices, so you figure you may as well go all in. 

You inch in the car, settling on top of his lap. His thighs are warm beneath you, your exposed legs shifting back and forth. He shuts the door, settling his hands on your body while Suguru starts the car. You never once stop to think about how this may be considered dangerous, all you can think about is how you want more of it. 

“Ready, princess?” Suguru’s voice is like velvet as it comes out. 

As ready as you’ll ever be. 

“Yes.” You fake confidence, shining a grin that feels entirely too exaggerated. 

Suguru chuckles and reverses the car, the action fluid. Satoru’s still holding onto your thighs, the proximity to him causing your heart to race. You don’t know who to focus on. Even their hands have you in a trance. Suguru’s fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles making your mouth water, while Satoru holds your legs, his palms suspiciously moving further up.

You can feel the outline of something beneath you, and you think you know what it is, but you want to be sure. 

You shimmy your ass a bit, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Satoru. There’s a dangerous grin on his face as he looks at you over his glasses. 

“Careful there, baby.” He warns. 

Your mouth immediately dries, desperation crawling up the back of your throat. The outline below you is much thicker than it was several minutes ago. He was hard. 

The engine stops, and your stomach turns over. You’re stopped at a hotel. It’s on the nicer side of town, luckily the part of the city none of your friends ventured to. The building in front of you is at least twenty stories high, the air of wealth floating over to you. 

Just what did these guys do for a living? 

“Come on.” Satoru says, patting your thigh twice. 

You snap out of it and hop out of the car, eyes drawing to the two men next to you. Suguru stuffs his keys in his pocket and slides beside you, snaking his arm up your back. His hand rests against the nape of your neck, softly holding you. The act feels borderline protective.

You peer up at him and he grants you a smile before leading you next to him, guiding you by your neck towards the hotel entrance. It’s even nicer on the inside than it is on the outside. 

A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, you know that it must be made of glass but at first glance it looks like diamonds. There’s little dots along the walls from the reflection of the fine material, hypnotizing you. A soft tune echoes in the background, Mozart you think, that lulls you into a sense of relaxation. 

“Good afternoon.” The check in attendant nods at Suguru. 

Does this scene look weird to him? 

Suguru acts as though it’s completely normal, dipping his head down in response before facing forward again, heading towards the elevators. Maybe it was normal for Suguru. 

Maybe they’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t special. You have to remind yourself that that’s the point. You weren’t any better. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re objectively worse. Tonight wouldn’t mean anything. Just a quick, nasty fuck. 

Out of your periphery you see Satoru jab his finger into the elevator button. He seems a bit impatient. Excited, maybe. 

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking up as the numbers on the screen decrease, indicating the elevator was inching closer and closer. 

He’s a bit beautiful. 

You knew that before. But his beauty looks different under the fine chandelier light of the hotel. The way he looked in the dingy bar, although still incredibly attractive, was a far cry from how he appears now. Almost ethereal, you’d say. The warm glow of the lights above make him look like a painting. 

Suguru’s the same as Satoru. The lighting and surroundings of the hotel are making him appear even more stunning than before. When you peer up at him, he glances down and grins back at you. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed. You look away quickly, just in time to watch the elevator doors slide open. 

Satoru hops in and waits for you and Suguru to enter before pressing ‘18’. 

The music inside the elevator is much more quiet, yet you’re still grateful for it. You’re nervous, your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. It was hard to believe that you were really doing this. The soft piano helps soothe your nerves, as you will your mind to stop racing.

Suguru’s hand slides off your neck and you find yourself almost missing the sensation. The warmth from his palm fades away, along with the sense of protection it provided. 

You only have a moments reprieve before the other man jumps at you. 

Satoru’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his tongue smoothing along your bottom lip. You groan in surprise before following along, letting your hands slide up his shirt. 

He’s muscular. 

Images flash in your brain of what he may look like shirtless. Your mind paints up a mouthwatering scene, full of hard lines and bulging muscles.

Your mouth opens to accept him, his tongue quickly entangling with yours. It’s hot and messy. Spit dribbles from the sides of your lips, and you can hardly catch your breath. 

“Don’t be so greedy, Satoru.” Suguru chides. 

Shit, you had almost forgotten he was there. 

Embarrassment fills your veins instantly. It suddenly hits you that you were going to have sex with both of them. How was this going to work? The idea seems daunting. 

Satoru grunts in retaliation and you almost think he doesn’t want to share. The man proves you wrong though, when he tugs you forward towards him. His body crashes against yours, and you have to hold his firm biceps to stabilize yourself. Suguru glides behind you, his hands quickly finding your hips. 

You’re trapped. 

Satoru parts from your lips, a thin string of saliva snapping once he removes himself. Your mind is crowded by lust as you look up at him with heavy lids. 

You want more. 

It’s a good thing there were two of them. 

Suguru grips your chin from behind and turns your head sideways, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips aren’t as sweet as Satoru, but it makes your knees weak all the same. 

Suguru is more methodical in his approach. He waits until you’re reaching a hand down, squeezing his arm against your waist. With a chuckle he parts his lips, sliding his tongue along your mouth, the movement painfully slow.

Satoru has moved his focus to your neck now. He’s kissing and biting down the column of your throat, the heat from his breathing making you shiver. You use your other hand to glide through his hair, urging him forward to continue his attack on your throat. 

Only when he starts sucking do you realize the severity of his actions. 

“N-no hickeys.” You tear yourself away from Suguru to say. 

Satoru looks at you for a second before chuckling, dragging his tongue up your throat. “Sure thing, princess.” 

Your shoulders sag in relief as you feel Satoru begin to go easy on you, only licking and kissing your tender flesh. You’re grateful you caught him in time. 

Suguru kisses you once more and you moan, a sound that spurs the two men on. Satoru raises a hand to paw at your breasts through your dress, and Suguru’s grip has tightened. 

The elevator dings just in time. 

Your entanglement felt longer than a life time, but it couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Suguru reluctantly tears himself away from you, watching as you catch your breath. Satoru is a bit more stubborn, only stopping once you say his name. 

Luckily the hallway in front of you is empty. The three of you step out, and you let them guide you to their room. 

“Here we are.” Satoru murmurs. 

Suguru, apparently master of the keys, lifts up a card and unlocks the door. When it opens he pushes the door in, letting you and Satoru go first. 

The room is huge. 

There’s a living room with a decent sized kitchen, along with two doors that can only lead to what you assume to be bedrooms. 

“Home sweet home,” Satoru lifts up a hand, waving it towards their hotel room. “Well, I guess hotel sweet hotel-“ 

“Satoru.” You all but plead, looking up at him desperately. 

His eyes flick down to you and he grins before stepping closer. 

“Sorry baby, you need something, huh?” He crashes his lips against yours again. 

The kiss is even more urgent this time around. Satoru lifts his glasses up blindly, before walking backwards to lead you further inside. 

You reach behind your back and pat around, trying to feel for your zipper. You need your clothes off now. When you don’t feel the flimsy tab, you turn around and look over your shoulder as if that will help any.  

“Keep having your fun, princess.” Suguru murmurs, his fingers expertly finding the elusive zipper. 

You whine and face forward again, kissing Satoru once more. Suguru carefully pulls it down, a cool rush of air grazing your back once it’s open. 

He leans down and kisses your spine, slowly making his way up while you shove your tongue down Satoru’s throat. 

The room’s spinning, you’re sure of it. 

Suguru takes his lips off your back so he can slide the dress off your shoulders, his hands grazing your skin causing you to break out in goosebumps. 

The dress falls to the floor, leaving you exposed in only your bra and underwear. It was an expensive set, one you had bought years ago yet hadn’t gotten much of a use out of. 

Satoru pulls his lips away to glance down at your figure before looking back up at your face. Your lips are swollen, eyes fluttering in need. 

“Shit…” he whispers to himself before kissing you again. 

Suguru’s hands roam your body, letting you have your playtime as he explores your skin. His palms glide against your stomach and thighs, moving slowly. 

You must be soaked already. 

Satoru tears himself back again, hands reaching for his shirt. He undresses in a matter of seconds, leaving himself only in his underwear. His body is even more amazing than you had conjured up in your mind. 

He was muscular without being overtly so, leaning more towards the body of a runner. His skin is pale, matching the tone of his hair. 

You run your hands up his stomach to his chest, letting your fingers dance along the grooves of his muscles. His head hangs low as he watches you drag your nails against him. 

Suguru stands next to you as he pulls his shirt off his head, the action catching your eye. You turn around and allow your gaze to float down to his chest. He looks just as perfect as Satoru. 

You tug Suguru closer and kiss him, his slow pace allowing you a chance to recuperate. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” Satoru says, his hands skirting along your body. 

So much for recuperating. 

“O-okay.” 

Satoru leads you and Suguru into one of the bedrooms before making himself comfortable on the bed. His form takes up the whole length of the bed, head at the end as he looks up expectantly. 

You look over your shoulder to see Suguru watching you. His lids are heavy as he stares at you, desire unmistakably falling over his features. He dips his head as if he was comforting you, or giving you permission. You slide your underwear off before tossing a leg over Satoru’s face, lowering yourself just above his mouth. You’re facing the end of the bed, Suguru standing in front of you. 

“So fucking wet.” Satoru mumbles to himself before sticking his tongue out, tugging your hips down until he meets your pussy. 

“F-fuck!” You moan, your hand latching onto his white locks. 

“That feel good?” Suguru asks. 

You bite your lip and look up at him, watching as his hand reaches down to unbuckle his pants. The sight makes you flustered. He maintains eye contact as he tugs them down, his cock still contained behind his underwear. 

“Open.” He says in a hushed tone. 

Your lips part, jaw dropping open at his order. 

“Atta girl.” 

Suguru eases his thumb into your mouth, watching as your lips wrap around him. You suck softly, bobbing your head as you lick the sides of his thumb. 

He looks delighted as you perform for him. You try your best to focus on the task at hand, but Satoru is making it increasingly difficult. His tongue is sticking out, flicking against your swollen clit. He drags it down before teasing your entrance, poking in several times before retreating to suck on your nub. 

You tug at his hair, grinding your body down against him. His hands have a tight grip on your ass, helping you hump against his mouth. 

“There you go, ride my fucking face.” Satoru growls below you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure coursing through your body. 

Suguru uses his other hand to pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to jump free. Everything feels too good. When you look back down, the sight makes you lightheaded. His cock is hard, tip leaky with anticipation as he watches you. 

He pumps it several times before reaching down to grab your free hand. Suguru wraps it around his cock, giving you free reign to pump him. 

His thumb never leaves your mouth. You’re sort of glad it doesn’t. If it did, you aren’t sure how loud you would be moaning. 

Suguru looks at your face as you begin to jack him off. He’s far more interested in watching you suck his thumb.

Satoru sucks on your clit, his eyes closed as he focuses on your body. You can feel yourself drip into him. 

“You gonna cum for us? On Satoru’s face?” Suguru coos. 

You moan around his thumb and squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck, you were going to cum on Satoru’s face. Soon, probably. 

Your palm slides down Suguru’s cock as your fist fucks him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, his precum making the glide that much easier. 

Satoru speeds his actions up, his lips wrapped tightly around your nub. Your body tightens up in response, and you begin to cum. 

Satoru aides you through your orgasm, sucking the entire time as you twist above him. Your hand slows against Suguru’s cock as you pant around his thumb. 

Satoru flicks his tongue against your clit slowly before removing his mouth from you, allowing you to slide off his face. 

He sits up once you’re off, his chin completely covered in your essence. You’re almost embarrassed. Satoru looks unaffected, letting his tongue clean the cum on his lips. 

“Let’s go baby.” Satoru says. 

Suguru eases his thumb from your mouth, chuckling at the whimper you let out. You were really starting to get into it, too. 

Satoru helps you get onto your hands and knees, facing forward towards Suguru. Suguru reaches down to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your body before tossing it to the side. Your nipples instantly harden from the cold air. 

Satoru smoothes his hands down your back while admiring your trembling form beneath him. Aftershocks from your previous orgasm were still racking through your body. He tears his gaze away to look at the bedside table, grumbling before he finds what he’s looking for. You hear the sound of a condom being opened as you stare at Suguru’s cock. 

Would you be able to fit that in your mouth? 

“Alright,” Satoru mumbles, sliding the condom on before lining himself up with your entrance.

You part your lips, waiting for Suguru to slide himself in your mouth. Satoru’s cock pokes at your entrance, pushing past as he sinks into your pussy. You groan, your walls rushing to accommodate the stretch. 

Satoru’s jaw is clenched as he looks down, watching your pussy greedily accept him, squeezing his cock until he’s finally all of the way in. 

He pauses for a moment, and you slip Suguru’s cock into your mouth. His tip eases past your lips, precum dripping onto your taste buds as he pushes himself in further. 

You gag a bit, nose flaring as you try to breathe around his cock. It’s more difficult than you anticipated, drool sliding down your chin as you go as far as you can. 

Satoru begins to shallowly pump inside you, while Suguru starts to rock his hips. 

It doesn’t take long before Satoru is fucking you properly, the slick of your cum making it easy to glide inside you. Suguru lets you control the pace, bobbing your head against his cock as you swallow around him. 

Satoru pushes against your gspot with each thrust, the sensation making you moan around Suguru. 

This felt so good, you were left wondering why you didn’t do it sooner. 

Satoru groans behind you, feeling like his cock was being choked by your pussy. He reaches down and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. You moan and your pussy tightens around Satoru in reaction. 

“Thaaaat’s it.” Satoru sounds almost breathless. “Bet your husband doesn’t fuck you this good, does he?” 

You stutter around Suguru, confusion sparking inside you. 

Husband?

How did he know?

Satoru laughs loudly, continuing to fuck into you. 

“What? You didn’t think we’d notice?” Suguru inserts himself into the discussion. “There’s a tan line around your ring finger, darling.”

Satoru thrusts into you even harder. “No hickeys? Come on.” His fingers speed up around your clit, making you moan against Suguru. “So I’ll repeat myself, your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” 

The humiliation was almost suffocating, yet it turned you on so badly you could hardly stand it. 

Suguru pulls himself from your throat, watching as you loudly gasp for air. 

You feel ruined. But you like it. 

“N-no,” you moan out. 

“No? That’s right.” Satoru mumbles under his breath. 

With each thrust it feels like he’s knocking all common sense from you. Your fingers dig into the sheets below, hoping it will relieve some of the pressure but all it manages to do is crumple the bedding. 

Suguru presses himself back into your throat, throwing his head back as you bob your head along him. You run your tongue down the sides of his cock, stroking him as you suck. 

“Can tell you aren’t happy with him, you just needed to be fucked properly, is that right?” Satoru continues. 

You moan around Suguru, unable to reply. Satoru understands the sentiment, pressing harder against your clit. You tighten up around him again, unable to control the way your cunt squeezes him. He keeps filling you up, his cock somehow pressing into all the right places. You’re getting close to cumming again, body begging for the sensation once more. 

Satoru’s hands are gripping your hips hard, so hard that there’s a voice in the back of your brain telling you he may leave marks, but you’re in too deep already. Drool is seeping from your lips, hanging in strings down your chin as you swallow Suguru’s cock. You wonder who’s going to cum first. 

Your orgasm inches closer, made possible by the strum of Satoru’s fingers against your needy clit. He’s groaning behind you, the sounds spurring you on. 

“Come on, come on baby. Cum on my cock.” He urges with a groan. 

Your pussy clenches around his cock hard and you release, cumming harder than you ever have before. 

“Just like that, just like that.” He talks you through it, a whimper breaking his voice. 

Suguru makes good use of your slack jaw, pounding so hard into your throat that you surmise it’s going to bruise. There’s no oxygen in your brain, no thoughts in your head, just pure bliss as you cum on Satoru. 

“You’re gonna make me-“ Satoru lets out a long moan, hips jerking against you, his cock twitching as he fills the condom with his cum. 

You’re trying to breathe heavily through your nose as you come down, allowing Suguru to use you as he sees fit. His face is concentrated as he stares down at you, admiring the mess you’ve become as he fucks your throat. He swears under his breath before coming to a stop, spurting hot cum in your mouth. 

You struggle to swallow it all, briefly feeling like you were drowning in the fluid, before you gulp it down. It’s messy, some of his cum paints your lips as he slides his now softening cock out of your mouth. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your mixed panting, bodies all entering a state of relaxation. Satoru eases himself from your pussy, inhaling sharply as he slips out. He removes the condom, tying it before tossing it into the bin beside the bed. You’re in complete bliss, fucked out from every orifice. 

Suguru smoothes your hair down and finds a washcloth to wipe the filth from your lips, smiling to himself at your expression. 

“You can stay the night, if you’d like.” Satoru says as he relaxes on the bed. 

He glances at the clock and ascertains that it’s much later than you were intending. You mumble to yourself and nod, not fully comprehending what ramifications may be waiting at home for you. 

Satoru opens the blankets for you, waiting as Suguru cleans between your legs. The actions are a bit sweet. Everything is. You were expecting them to kick you to the curb after you had sex, so you’re pleasantly surprised when they slide in bed next to you, laying on either side. 

Satoru’s arms are wrapped tightly around your frame as you nod off, and you feel truly happy for the first time in years. 

~~~

You aren’t sure what wakes you up in the morning. Your internal clock, maybe. Your body is sore as you groan, flipping onto your back. The hotel ceiling greets you as you crack your eyes open. A brief bit of panic courses through you. 

So last night was real, huh? 

You turn your head and notice the bed beside you is completely devoid of anyone else, both men seemingly having vanished. You aren’t sure if you feel more sad or relieved. Sad because you enjoyed their presence, but relieved because now you could pretend like nothing happened. 

Is that what you wanted to do? 

You were having a hard time believing that that would be easy, that you could go back to your old life and be content when you knew there was so much more out there. 

You sit up and look towards the clock. You were in deep shit. There’s a note on the beside table that catches your attention. You lift it up, reading the words on the page. It fills you with a deep sense of satisfaction once you notice a phone number on it.

“Call us if you want to have a good time. -Satoru and Suguru.” 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothicwhore666, @bunviixo

If you want to be tagged just let me know, please specify what you want to be tagged in

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: EP10 Ray's Therapy Scene (First Focus)

I've been meaning to do a deep dive on this scene, which has no doubt been immensely commended for Khaotung's stellar performance (I'm running out of vocabulary to gush about how talented that boy is). However the purpose of this post is to highlight how equally superb First is, as I fear some may overlook the excellent work he does here.

The reason why this scene warrants a huge amount of respect is how challenging this dynamic is on both actors. Only Ray is speaking the entire way through, which means the tone and rhythm of the scene is led by Khaotung, whilst First's role here as Sand is to be reactive to this immense outpouring and release of emotion. First is required to be a very restrained and contemplative presence - a projection and visual representation of Sand in Ray's own mind. It's literally acting on a macro (Khaotung) and micro (First) level in tandem.

I want to start by mentioning how well First portrays this bedded-in weariness in Sand’s demeanor throughout, an expression we’ve seen in Episode 8. It carries this heartbreakingly heavy and worn down quality. A symptom of a man who bears far too much weight on his shoulders, whose mental toil never seems to end; a product of his own nature and those who knowingly or unknowingly take advantage of it. This is the tragedy of Sand's character. And this is the realisation that is well and truly hitting Ray now. His temper and behaviour have inevitably taken its toll on someone Ray knows doesn't deserve all the suffering he's been putting him through.

⬆️ "I was stupid, but I want you to understand me. I was mad at you because I cared so much about you."

When Ray starts asking for forgiveness, there's an air of slightly deflated scepticism that flits across Sand's face. Sand's immediate instinct is to be hopeful, to give someone the benefit of the doubt. But the reality is Ray has apologised a number of times before and that hasn’t stopped him from hurting Sand still. So Sand’s expression sobers, conscious of how likely it is that Ray will let him down again.

This is Ray acknowledging that he's fallen into a pattern of taking Sand for granted. If that’s all Sand has come to expect, why would his apology this time change anything? Ray has not earnt his redemption yet as he hasn't apologised to Sand in person, and has no guarantee it would be accepted. Which is why he's so upset because he registers that Sand's disappointment in him is fully deserved.

⬆️ "There's no one more caring or loving than you. Though I've been nothing but an asshole to you."

You see the tiniest lift of Sand's brow that's tinged with grateful disbelief, 'Me? But I'm nothing special'. His gaze softens by the sentiment, a visible breath inhaled in as if taken aback, clearly touched but hesitant to believe it. A humbling trait of Sand's is that he genuinely struggles to see his own value. He doesn't realise just how meaningful he can be to someone. That he could hold such weight.

And all the criticism that Ray has thrown at Sand has only piled onto the insecurities he possesses. Remarks that have questioned Sand's principles, his dignity, his sense of worth.

⬆️ "But if you don't want to put up with me anymore, that's alright. I get you."

Ray's image of Sand watches on as he begins to fall apart, crushed by a mixture of intense fear, regret, and despair that this may be too little too late. That his last outburst may well have been the final straw, and he failed to appreciate Sand when it mattered.

On the surface Sand may look numb or somewhat devoid of emotion, but you can detect the turbulence brewing underneath. Sand has a habit of holding in his feelings in to an almost painful degree (which begs for release). It gives you the impression he could suddenly burst at the seams at any given moment. But Sand as always holds still, holds strong, holds steady. Other than the slight twitch of his lip, he holds himself together somehow.

⬆️ "No one can put up with me".

Ray vocalises his own self-hatred, how little he deserves someone like Sand, how guilty he feels for causing this damage. Whilst he does so, Sand appears increasingly teary, lip ever so slightly quivering, brows crumpling. He looks like he desperately wants to break down and cry along with Ray.

What sets Sand apart from everyone else in Ray’s life is he understands. He can sympathise with why Ray is the way he is. Despite everything Ray has done, Sand still very much wants to protect him, shield him, care for him. He doesn't blame him. It breaks his heart to see Ray upset, to see Ray hurting. His compassion for Ray has always been his undoing.

The last thing he would want is for Ray to feel unwanted or intolerable. He tries to be the person who can withstand Ray's temper, his volatile nature, because he knows Ray is still deserving of love. It’s because of this love that he can feel every single thing that Ray is going through.

Sand exudes an incredibly strong parental presence in this scene; a form of unconditional love and patience. As we're often told by our parents, they're not angry at us when we veer off path, just disappointed and perhaps saddened on our behalf - but that won't stop them from loving us all the same. This is beautifully captured by First. You can detect Sand's selfless love for Ray in his every gaze, always.

⬆️ "Ever since you walked into my life, I've been so happy. So damn happy Sand."

This is where Sand almost breaks down as he displays a small, tentative smile that is laced with pained and tired relief. His eyes close in an attempt to maintain composure. Whilst there’s overwhelm, there’s also finally a glimmer of peace.

This is what Ray knows Sand needs to hear, what Ray wishes he'd said sooner. Ray picturing himself saying this to Sand may be a form of vindication in the event he doesn't get say this to him in-person.

Finally Ray collapses into Sand's arms. Sand seems to visibly reign in his own emotions, in order to revert back to 'care-taker' mode. Sand nods once, a gesture of kindness and true acceptance that says 'It's all okay, I know.'

He's Ray's pillar, his rock, and his raft. Sand has become Ray's primary source of safety and comfort. Sand's gaze is so endlessly gentle as he nestles in close to hold Ray. Everything about his embrace feels warm and stable in such a reassuring way. Sand is every bit as loving and caring as Ray just described him to be.

What makes this entire portrayal so devastating is this is the Sand Ray sees and knows. Ray mentions in Episode 11 that he’s been stowing away these details. Which indicates that everything Sand has done and said has not gone unnoticed. Whether it was due to denial or ignorance that prevented Ray from confronting it sooner, he has unconsciously taken note of it all. How Ray's image of Sand responds in this scene is based on every interaction he's had with Sand up until now. This imaginary representation of Sand is proof of everything that Ray has come to fall in love with.

First was not given any dialogue in which to communicate in this scene. His entire performance relies solely on the tiniest of micro-expressions and gestures. He symbolises the essence of Sand but not the physical manifestation of him. Therefore his acting may come across as understated but that’s a sign of real talent when you can say so much with so little.

[im-no-jedi]

I have Crosshair on the brain today for literally no reason and was really struck thinking about that moment with Wrecker and Tech in Kamino Lost. mainly how, yet again, Tech perfectly sums up what it's like being someone with a mental disability.

Wrecker breaks character a bit and gets angry at Crosshair for being such an ass, and especially for not putting an effort into leaving the Empire once his chip was removed. an understandable and valid reaction.

Crosshair doesn't have time to respond before Tech steps in though.

Tech straight up tells Wrecker to let it go. he doesn't need Crosshair to say anything because he already knows what Crosshair might say. despite not agreeing with him (as he later stated), Tech understands why Crosshair is behaving the way that he is. this indicates that Crosshair has behaved similarly in the past and therefore is no surprise to someone like Tech, who has the same problem. and he tries to explain that to Wrecker.

Tech outright states two of Crosshair's major character traits. two traits that can be seen both as positive and negative. neurodiverse people often have traits like this that manifest outside of their control, causing them to behave in ways that come across unnatural. it often takes an outside source, like Tech is doing here, for the person to even realize that those behaviors can be a bad thing. Tech even confirms the fact that it's simply a part of who Crosshair is.

but he doesn't stop there. because this goes beyond simple character traits, which can often be changed or altered in some way.

Tech starts by telling Wrecker that he can't change how Crosshair is. this is honestly good advice in general, but it especially applies to mental disability. no amount of work or effort can fully change how a neurodivergent person behaves. it's literally wired into their brain. sure, things like therapy and medication can help. but like a stubborn stain or a deep scar, those traits will never fully go away.

and Tech confirms this with one final statement.

Crosshair himself can't even do anything about it. and this to me is the real attribute of mental disability. it's simply something that's out of everyone's hands. it's also interesting to note Crosshair's expression here. he seems genuinely intrigued by Tech's statement, like he's just heard something he wasn't expecting to hear. Crosshair ends up asking why Tech "stood up" for him, but I think it goes beyond that. I think Crosshair hadn't considered that fact that things were out of his control. which we end up seeing in season two with his eventual strained relationship with the Empire.

now, this isn't me saying that we should excuse neurodivergent people for their behaviors. everyone, regardless of circumstance, should take responsibility for their own actions. and it's moments like this that are actually helpful in understanding how to deal with mental issues. I say this as a mentally disabled person myself. having that outside source to point out those behaviors, regardless of whether or not they were intentional, still have consequences. clearly, the consequence for TBB was the separation of Crosshair from the rest of the squad. he made that choice, but it was due to natural traits that were out of his control (among other things). hopefully he'll eventually realize this, but that remains to be seen.

it's no secret that I personally headcanon the entire Bad Batch as being neurodiverse. Tech may be the most obvious example, but the signs are there for the others as well. and this moment just further validates it for me. at the very least, it's an excellent comparison to mental disability, whether intentional or not, just like Tech's line in The Crossing. and I'll be forever grateful for a show like this giving us that representation 💙

[benjis-journey]

10.11.24 (Day 1)

I remember the day I realized I was a trans man. It was barely a week after my 17th birthday. After playing mini golf in Eisenhower Park with my friends from group therapy, we all decided to relax and have a picnic somewhere out on the grass. I was eating one of the really expensive, over-sugared donuts I purchased from Uber Eats a few hours prior when it suddenly hit me. "I think I'm a boy," I muttered aloud, not even noticing I was speaking rather than thinking. "We know," my friends sighed in unison. They seemed to know long before I did. One of them told me my name—which is now just a family nickname—was a very common trans guy name. I hadn't realized the name Kai was so popular among trans men until I realized I was one myself. It all makes sense, though. I'd spent so many bus rides home from school hoping, wishing, praying, and quietly sobbing to be a boy. I'm not sure why I didn't figure it out sooner. I was convinced I was just a masculine nonbinary person, but apparently not. Three excruciating and exhausting years later, I have successfully returned home with my first ever testosterone prescription. I was supposed to have it a day or two earlier, but pharmaceutical and familial issues delayed the process. I wish my mother was happier for me. I wish she wasn't indifferent or even against my transition. I wish she told me she was happy for me and that she loved me. I could've waited for her to bring me my prescription herself since it was transferred to the hospital she works at. But I have reason to believe she still opposes my gender identity. I suppose it tracks.

She's only ever called me Kai about five times in my life. I can't even remember the last the she referred to me as "he", at least in my presence. I know she tells people I'm her daughter when she's on the phone or when she's making small talk at work. I've learned to accept her refusal. It's been years, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? I'm glad that even though I may not have many trusted adults in my life or any, really, I still have the endless support of my beloved friends. They were just as excited for me to start as I was, and I'm thrilled for them to go on this journey with me. I have one of them to thank for easy beginnings of this process. I found him when my best friend sent me a link to his blog and we reblogged at each other until I fell asleep. We became quick friends and met for the first time at a Big Time Rush concert. I could go on and on about how perfect that day was and how many cherished memories I made then.

When I spoke to him about my initial attempt to start transitioning and how the clinic my doctor referred me to never called me back, he suggested I try Planned Parenthood just as he did. It sounded so simple when he said it. I was flabbergasted. Could it really be that easy? I called to schedule an appointment at that very moment and was ecstatic to be penciled in. I was scared when the day finally came around because I'd never been to Planned Parenthood before, and visiting medical clinics on my own exhausts me. But it was quick and easy, and they filed a prescription to be sent out for pickup that very day. I thanked my friend endlessly for suggesting Planned Parenthood to me. It may have seemed like an idle suggestion at the time, but that one comment changed the entire course of my transition. I may not have even started yet had it not been for him. I wish I could visit him and tell him how grateful I am for him being so supportive and caring. Maybe I'll do that in the near future. My usual pharmacy hadn't told me they couldn't provide or even transfer my prescription until I called to ask if it was ready. I had no choice but to resend the prescription to the pharmacy at the hospital in which my mother works. I called her to pick it up for me the next day because I knew she'd already clocked out and left at the time. She agreed and when I texted her a reminder the following morning, she said she wouldn't be able to get it.

I was furious because it couldn't possibly take as long as she making it out to be. She was dramatic and passive aggressive. So I sought out to pick it up myself. I awoke early this morning and headed into the city in a hurry. I didn't pay a dime when receiving my prescription and I only had to wait an extra 5-10 mins for them to finish preparing it before I left. When I returned home, I was overjoyed to the brink of tears. I propped up my phone to record the moment of my first testosterone application. My younger sibling sat at my desk and hung around for the recording. We spoke idly as I discussed wanting to create a blog where I'd log my thoughts and progress as I continue taking my prescription. We also spoke about our mother not wanting me to take the prescription and not being happy for me. I didn't let it ruin my day, though. I am thoroughly content and I cannot wait to continue this journey. I know many great things are in my future. To everyone who has supported me thus far (regardless of how long ago we've met) and to anyone out there reading right now, thank you. I adore you.

—Benjiꕤ

[lollystocks]

Therapy for the Dead and Buried, Chapter 2

Chapter one here

Masterpost here

AO3

A Danny Phantom x The Bright Sessions Crossover for @dp-crossover-angst-week-event

"Patient 17-X-2, session two. Any abilities unconfirmed, though suspected. At the end of last session, he became spooked at my questioning, and left early. His school has made him come back, and I imagine he won’t be happy about it. A gentler touch is probably required, here.”

-

They sat in the same arrangement as before. The doctor had made a note of it in her book.

"I must say James, I'm glad to see you back."

Danny couldn’t help but scoff. "That’s sort of hard to believe, Doctor Bright."

"Why is that?"

She looked pretty genuine, in a carefully neutral kinda way. Her eyebrows were raised ever-so-slightly over her dark, square glasses, her mouth was relaxed, and brown eyes were making full, unflinching contact with his own. None of the tensed shoulders and muttered asides he was used to from adults these days.

She wasn't totally at ease though, obviously. Her right hand gripped her expensive fountain pen a little too tightly, her irises had contracted. Her nostrils were slightly flared.

These were all the things he'd grown used to seeing, though he had no baseline for the doctor. Then again, he had no baseline for anyone.

The eye contact was incredibly uncomfortable, and he broke it, opting for the window behind her instead.

"No one's ever glad to see me, Doctor Bright. Not really."

She let the silence stretch out. Fucking shrink. Relying on the human instinct to fill the silence.

It was working, unfortunately.

"So I. Uh. Don't really believe you. I think that's a nice thing to say, 'I'm glad to see you', it's a nice segue into talking about me storming out last time, and like, I guess in some way you are glad to see me 'cause then you don’t lose out on a payment, and this is your job, but I think you're uncomfortable. To see me. Which is fine, I just. I wi- I’d rather that people were honest about that."

"Are people not typically honest about that with you?"

"Well they are, eventually, but only after they have some stupid thing to blame it on. Like the way I said or did something, so then they can justify not liking me. I’d rather people be honest that they got the heebie-jeebies from the moment they clapped eyes on me, but that would involve…” He trailed off. “I dunno. Something."

"Do you think this immediate prejudice you feel from people is the reason for your problems at school?"

Danny considered. "Maybe. It's hard to ‘apply yourself’ when everyone at school hates you."

And he’d been trying, he really had - he had more time than ever to work on assignments and projects, and actually read ahead in English, and he didn’t have to stay up all night finishing his homework. It all should have been so much better.

In truth, it was, marginally - better than his last year at Casper, anyhow. But that was a low, low bar.

But no matter how hard he worked, it wasn’t enough. Essays came back with low marks and no comments, his classmates refused to work with him on projects, and presentations were cut off after thirty seconds because no one could stand to listen to him talk and despite the hours of research he’d be given a D-minus and expected to be grateful for it.

And he could never argue, or call it unfair. He’d be put in detention, or even seclusion, for threatening behavior. And now, sent to outsourced therapy with an inscrutable woman who’d probably have him committed.

Her head tilted a fraction. "Before, you said 'uncomfortable' and 'heebie-jeebies', now you say 'hate'. Which is it, do you think?"

"Well, one leads to the other, right? Like, hate is just a way of directing fear? Or something like that. People are scared of me, and they hate that, so they hate me."

The doctor wrote all this down.

“Is this something you experience from everyone, James? Or does it change from person to person? Do you have many friends, at school?”

“Nope,” Danny said, popping the ‘p’. “No friends. There are people who… dislike me less, I guess. There’s this one guy who goes out of his way to be like, sweet. Asks me how I am and stuff. I think he feels sorry for the fact I’m such a visible loner with no friends.” The doctor nodded. “And have you tried pursuing a friendship with this young man?”

“Not really, I can tell that he’s super scared of me too. But he’s nice, so I try not to overstay my welcome. Plus, his friend is like, super freaked out by me. Like way more than normal.” The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed just a little, at that. “How do you know someone is scared of you, James?”

“You think I’m projecting.”

“Not at all. I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m just wondering what it is exactly that you’re picking up on. Is it people’s behavior? Their words? Something you can see, or maybe just… feel? Innately?”

“‘Cause if it’s something I just ‘feel’ then it’s in my head, right?”

“Not at all. The human brain is very good at pattern recognition, even on a subconscious level. What we may sometimes experience as ‘just a feeling’ or a loosely defined ‘sense’ can actually be the result of our brains performing complex analyses on our surroundings, and gaining something meaningful from the smallest details. It’s a fascinating area of study.”

“And you think that’s what I’m doing?”

“It could be. What do you think?”

Danny didn’t need to ‘sense’ his effect on individual people, of course. Or intuit, or whatever else the doctor was talking about. It was just a given - one that had only gotten worse since he’d come here.

He didn’t want to sit here and tell a therapist that he had a terrifying, supernatural aura. He didn’t want to tell her he was dead. He wanted, desperately, to tell someone that his control was slipping - had slipped - and he was fighting for command over his body again, here in a world with different physics and no discernible magic.

But he couldn’t, obviously.

“I’ve learned to spot the body language,” he said. “Fast breathing, tense muscles, wide eyes and blown - or constricted - pupils, clenching, flushing and sweating, et cetera et cetera. It helps if they call me a creep, a freak, or a psycho too. That normally informs me pretty well.” “Do you study people’s body language a lot, James? Would you be able to spot other emotions as easily?”

He shrugged. “Only as well as anyone else, I guess. I don’t think I have much of a talent for it. I can just spot the fear ‘cause I cause it. Like, I googled how to spot it once, after it started happening.” “And when did it start?”

He didn’t hesitate the way he should have. He didn’t check himself or hold his tongue. So he simply said, “Second semester of freshman year, when I was fourteen.”

Which entirely went against his plan of 'keep it vague, dumbass.’

“-I mean, uh, I think it was around then. I guess.” If the doctor was suspicious, she didn’t show it - she just jotted it down in her book. And underlined it.

“So you’ve had this discernible effect on people for three years now, more or less, and your experiences and research have provided the tools to spot it, if not understand it, correct?”

Incorrect. He understood it perfectly.

“Correct,” he said.

“Was this a problem at your old school?”

“Sure.”

“To the same degree?”

No.

“Sure,” he said instead.

“How have you found the transition to your new school? For obvious reasons a lot of your file is sealed, but I can see that you have no official guardian and are living independently. That must be tough, at seventeen.” “Mm-hm.” The doctor sat back, waiting for her first question to be answered.

There was a tree outside the window, its branches bare and dead. A crow hopped around the naked boughs, minding its business.

There was very little else of interest in Danny’s sightline.

“I can see that this is a topic you’d rather not discuss, James. We can talk about anything else you’d like to.”

Kudos, Doc.

He shrugged. “What do people normally talk about in therapy?”

“Anything and everything, I find,” she said, with the slightest smile on her lips. “We’re still very early on, so I’d like to get to know you a bit more. I’d love to know more about your hobbies, your interests - where do you go, mentally, to feel assurance, or peace?”

“Space, I guess.” She did smile now. “Poetic. Tell me more.”

So he did. He started with the Mars rovers, their names and their aims. And eventually Martian geology. Then deep space probes, then the Hubble telescope, then stellar spectroscopy, then the MoonBase updates-

“I apologize. Moonbase? I was unaware of any ongoing lunar occupation-”

“No, yeah, you’re right, um. I meant. The plans. There might be plans for one. For growing ecto-fungi. Nothing happening yet. No one here lives on the moon. You know I think I just heard it on a documentary, actually. Maybe it was bullshit. I mean bullcrap. I mean. Nonsense.”

“Of course. There’s no need to panic James, I’m not here to judge you for making mistakes. Though I’m curious - what was that word you said? Ecto-fungi?”

“Hm? Don’t know. I just said ‘regular fungi.’”

“Of course. My apologies.” She re-crossed her legs and stretched her spine a little. Her eyes were a bit more relaxed around the edges, and her grip on her pen looser. “I must say James, your passion is encouraging. For the last…” she checked her watch. “Forty-five minutes, you’ve been a very different young man. Do you find talking about your passions comforting?”

Yeah. They made him complacent.

“Sure.”

“If you like, James, going forward, we could start our sessions with a quick chat about anything along these lines. It might help you feel more at ease. Would you like that?”

No. It was a dumb idea and was likely to make him slip up about inter-dimensional differences.

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like that a lot.”

--

Chapter 3

[gray-r-regan]

Mental health:

If you're neurodivergent and you've always thought a "gratitude practice" sounds like bullshit, I understand.

But the reason you do it is to counteract our natural negativity bias.

You probably know this is where the human brain focuses hard on the bad stuff because that's what we want to avoid in the future, and it focuses harder depending on how bad the bad stuff was, and that's where you get PTSD from, essentially.

Our brains do not hold on to the good stuff, generally, except in the moment. That stuff doesn't stay unless you're actively dialing in, paying attention, focusing and appreciating.

This is why bad days/months/years feel longer than good ones, generally:

Time is what happens when you string events together in your mind as though they were linear.

Imagine good things are yellow beads, and bad things are red beads.

If you're not paying attention to and being actively grateful and appreciative, your brain will ONLY use red beads. Then your "time string" is longer, because there are so many red beads, and you didn't focus on, or attempt to actively create, though changing your perspective, any yellow beads.

Good day? Didn't tell yourself how good it was? Brain sees nothing important here.

Brain disregards.

Guess what?

When you search your brain for good days, but you don't tell yourself stories about them, or think about how good they are, or write them down, or talk about them?

They won't be there. They didn't imprint.

And that is how you craft happiness and positive memories.

By snatching them and taping them up on the walls in your brain.

The world doesn't do it TO you.

You do it, based on how you think about what happens to you.

This is what they were trying to say (in very autistic language) in this image:

It's true, it's just worded so clinically that it seems too simple and stupid to be true.

You create the pathways in your brain through how you respond to what happens to you.

You prune your brain like a bonzai tree.

You can trim it towards shriveling up in the darkness and hating everything, or you can trim it towards the light and feeling better.

Yes, some things make this extremely difficult. Yes, medication is necessary sometimes. Yes, therapy can help.

But this is how it works.

If you're deep in it, it's going to feel fake and stupid at first and you may have to try neutrality before positivity.

"Yes, this is happening and it's hard."

Instead of, "I wish this wasn't happening, it shouldn't be happening, this isn't fair, why me, I wanna unalive myself."

Then move to:

"I am strong enough to survive this. I love and care for myself enough to get through it and I'll be okay."

Or whatever words of that sort speak to you.

It's about breaking habits and it DOES WORK.

Plus!

Your behaviors are generally dictated by your habitual thoughts.

So if you want to change your behaviors, gear your thoughts towards the ones you want.

Think like the person you want to be would think and, with time, you will become them.

ALSO:

This is why you feel a hunger for things sometimes that you just can't satisfy:

Your brain doesn't know it happened unless you focused on it, paid attention to it, soaked it in.

It can't tell.

Gaming? If you're thinking about other things for four hours while smashing buttons, and thought that one cute thing that lasted five seconds was great?

You gamed for five seconds, as far as your brain is concerned.

Sweet foods? If you're on your phone, watching TV, etc, the snack never happened, so you'll just keep wanting it as if you never had one.

Your level of engagement = the depth of any experience's imprint on your brain/memory.

This also goes for rest.

Worry or feel shame/anxiety the whole time and your body doesn't feel safe enough to repair itself.

Repair mode exists for a reason.

We just forgot how to use it.

[the-badger-mole]

When You Burn a Bridge

It had already been an awful week. Finding his sister sitting outside of his apartment building was just the latest on the pile of indignities he'd had to suffer that week. Zuko considered turning around and heading back to his girlfriend's place, but Azula spotted him before he could make his escape.

"Big brother," Azula drawled, her mouth turning up into a smirk. "It's been too long."

"Azula," Zuko grumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood." The sarcastic edge of Azula's voice grated on Zuko.

"After three years, you just so happen to find yourself in my neighborhood? At midnight? What do you want?" Azula's brow drew downward and she scowled at Zuko. He scowled right back. What kind of reception did she expect, though? It was late, Zuko had studying to do, and oh yeah, his sister's mere presence was unearthing traumas from his past he'd spent years in therapy working through.

"Fine," Azula huffed. "I need a place to stay." That Zuko wasn't expecting.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't stay with Dad anymore," Azula explained, pushing her immaculately styled hair back. "He's become an absolutely nightmare about how he wants me to run the company, and he refuses to hear my ideas on how to modernize it. So, I just decided I don't want to do it. He threw a hissy fit and told me to get out, so here I am." Zuko noticed for the first time the suitcase beside the bench Azula sat on. Her words spun through his mind over and over until it became a hum of white noise.

"He's become a nightmare?" Zuko repeated. 'Become? I've got news for you. That man has always been a nightmare. You were just too busy playing Golden Child to pay attention. It sucks that you had an argument with him, but I fail to see why that should involve me. Why don't you go stay with one of your friends?" Azula's mouth pinched tightly, and she forced a nonchalant shrug.

"Mai is abroad with her parents," Azula explained. "Ty Lee has been avoiding me because she can't take a little constructive criticism."

"Okay, and what about someone else?" Zuko pressed. "I'm sure someone's willing to let you crash on their couch."

"If anyone else could take me in, don't you think I would've called them?" Azula's eyes flashed furiously. "You think I'd be at this dump? Dad cut me off completely. I can't even get a hotel room for the night. I can't let anyone else know what's happening. I'd be humiliated! I just need somewhere to lie low until Dad's hissy fit is over."

"You can't stay with me," Zuko said firmly.

"Why not?" Azula demanded. She actually stomped her foot. It would have been comical under any other circumstances.

"Azula, you made my life miserable for 17 years! You stood by and laughed while Ozai treated me like dirt. You set me up to get me into more trouble whenever you could. You used my first girlfriend to spy on me and used what you got to get Ozai to kick me out! You wonder why I don't want anything to do with you?"

"Why won't you just let that go?" Azula demanded. "It was years ago! I was a kid! You're really going to hold that against me? I'm not that person anymore!"

"I was a kid, too!" Zuko snapped back. "Azula, you tortured me for years! On top of what you knew I was getting from Ozai. I'm glad you've turned over a new leaf, or whatever, but I don't want anything to do with you. Best of luck, and have a nice life."

"So that's just it?" Azula demanded. "I come to you for help and you're just turn me out into the cold?"

"What do you want from me, Azula?" Zuko threw his hands up. "To take you in, let you sleep in my apartment? Pretend that you weren't part of the reason I got thrown out of my own home at 17? You never reached out to make sure I was okay. You won't even acknowledge how messed up what you did to me was! I don't owe you anything! You can't burn bridges and then get mad that people won't cross the river for you!"

"Cute," Azula snorted. "You get that bit of wisdom from dear Uncle Iroh?" Zuko felt heat rush through him. His uncle was the only reason he hadn't ended up homeless. Azula had never showed Iroh any respect, and it had always infuriated Zuko. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of crumpled bills.

"Here," he said shoving it at Azula. "That should be enough for a night at the hostel. I suggest you take the time to figure out your next move. I'm done with you." Zuko brushed past Azula and started to open the door to his building. He paused with his key in the door, and glanced back at his sister. She stood looking shocked, and maybe just a bit afraid. Zuko sighed.

"Go see Uncle in the morning," he said. "He probably won't let you stay with him, but he knows a lot of people. He can help you find someplace to stay."

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

10 Questions for Writers

10 Questions for Writers tagged by @sunnysideprincess

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

156, but two or three of those are Round Robins I participated in, and two are collabfics. The rest are all mine, though.

2. what’s your total AO3 word count?

902,447

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Marvel is my main squeeze fandom, but I've got one Stranger Things fic up and I want to write a few more. I've got a tiny Hannibal fic up, one solitary M*A*S*H that had been a request of one of my besties (and that was definitely enough and I love that show), and there's a Contrarywise/Trickster's Touch ficlet up. Oh yeah, and I have a few Bill and Ted fics up and some other random old stuff that I finally stuck on my AO3 (Lost Boys, From Hell)

4. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Always. First off, it's so rare these days to get comments because of all the reasons/excuses people give for not leaving comments on fics that to get comments is such a treasure and joy, so of course, I'm going to comment back. Second, if some of those reasons/excuses are true (shyness, anxiety, awkwardness) then I'm doubly grateful for the people who do comment - esp if they are commenting while anxious/shy/awkward - that I want to make sure they realize that their comments are appreciated and that they are not bothering me with their comments. Though I still don't understand that concern. If a writer doesn't want comments on their fics, they'll set it up so that no one will comment. If we've got our comments open, we want comments and you're never bothering us with them.

5. have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. Given how wildly unpopular I seem to be as a writer, I can't imagine anyone wanting to steal what I've written.

6. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep. I've got two collabfics up on AO3 that I wrote with @scottxlogan, and we've got two more in the wings just needing to be finished so I can post them up.

7. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

No. I don't have one all-time favorite ship. I have many favorite ships - Loki/Tony Stark, Loki/Bucky Barnes, Loki/Steve Rogers, Loki/Emma Frost, Loki/Justin Hammer (don't give me that look, they're fun), Tony/Bucky, Tony/Steve, Tony/Scott Summers, Tony/Emma Frost, Steve/Bucky, Steve/Scott Summers, Steve/Emma, Scott/Logan, Scott/Bobby, Scott/Kurt... I mean, that's just the Marvel list, and it's not even a complete one. There's also Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, and so many others from other fandoms that I may not write for but I like to read.

8. what are your writing strengths?

Apparently humor, Easter Eggs, dialogue, fluff, sexy times, and making people hungry by including food into so many fics.

9. what are your writing weaknesses?

World building if I'm having to create a world from scratch. I can do it, but it's a lot of work and then I get stressed. I used to world-build in rp writing with my former roommate, and when we quit writing, I thought I might take some of our old rps and turn them into og fiction, but there are some that are so wildly extensive in the world building that I will probably stick to re-reading them and not actually trying to re-write them into og fiction.

10. first fandom you wrote for?

If we're talking the first time I ever wrote fanfiction without knowing that fanfiction was a word, that'd be the Children of the Corn fanfic I wrote when I was 12-13. It was in pencil, and it was big time Mary Sue, and I don't even have it anymore because over many decades, the pencil faded/smudged, and I'm pretty sure I tossed it into the trash. (It was sooooooooooooooooooo bad.) The first fandom I was in once I knew what fanfiction was - Jay and Silent Bob. Yes, I still have those fics, and no they aren't posted anywhere, and they won't be. With the exception of a Loki series fic I wrote that has a tiny crossover with Dogma (that was called a therapy fic), I won't go back to that fandom.

Thanks for the tag!

Tagging: @mistressofmuses, @stormxpadme, @soliloquent-stark, @whinysteve, @kleenexwoman, @mcfiddlestan, @chaotic-hypnotic-erotic, @chaoticgardenbread, and anyone else who wants to play!

[fuckingpajamas]

Homesick Chapter 24 teaser

We are officially one chapter away from getting a glimpse of our villain and I am so incredibly excited to reveal them.

We’ve gotten some new interactions with Homesick and it has rejuvinated me to push and finish this chapter- so here’s the first few paragraphs of chapter 24 to tide you over!

HOMESICK CHAPTER 24 TEASER:

John followed Butcher to the car, sliding into the backseat and draping back over the headrest. He took a second to remove the glasses and hat, setting them onto his lap. As sunlight began to spill into the car, it became more obvious by the eyes sunken and dark and the ragged sigh that followed just how exhausted both parents were.

Once MM entered the car a silence settled over them, John being the first to speak to ease the tension.

"I think we all deserve a vacation when this is over."

Maybe he could finally take his family to the beach like they'd talked about. Anywhere would be better than this, he thought. He had to remind himself that as long as they were together, it would be okay.

"Think you may be right about that." Butcher numbly replied as he flopped down into the seat.

"I'll take two first class tickets to Hawaii for me and my little girl as payment after this. Please and thank you." MM gave a quick glance through his rear view mirror back to Homelander as he started the car, leaving up to him to decide if he was kidding or not.

The joke about Hawaii didn’t go unnoticed, Homelander tossing out something about fulfilling that promise. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it tenfold. Despite his usually rigid and hostile attitude, William and his friends seemed to have the proper grit of personality to wear him down. The man who ate breakfast with them wasn’t the same man who wore the Homelander suit and for that? John was grateful. It was nice to finally be just. . . John.

Even when MM would glare back at John or comment on something he’d done in the past, he couldn’t take offense, instead yielding and allowing himself to smile or shrug it off. He was a terrible person and they all knew it. But at least he could find solace in the fact that none of this group started out *good*. They found it. Together.

"Did the weird wanker that Monique was seein' back off at all?... Tim? Todd? Something fucking godawful like that." He asked, making a face of disgust toward MM who was already preemptively scowling at the question.

"Todd. Yeah. He went off the deep end once his favorite superhero suddenly, miraculously eased up off the rhetoric. Monique finally started seeing the red flags." There was another pointed look back at Homelander as they turned to get onto the main highway again. MM had a lot of mixed feelings about all of this, but he was a pretty difficult man to read. He looked back to Billy briefly before turning his eyes on the road, tapping the steering wheel in his meticulously habitual way. "I'm just glad the guy isn't around my kid anymore, even if the two of us never work things out."

"For once, I think I get what you mean," Butcher pulled the lever on the old car to let the seat flop backwards at a slight incline. He went pulling an arm up behind his head and trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. He flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes to block the light out. He needed to rest. Though it was hard not to listen to MM talk about his kid and not think of Ryan, wherever he was.

"Having kids puts shit into perspective real quick. That's the only reason I agreed to do any of this in the first place.-- I've seen up close how having a kid can change people." MM shrugged and kept his eyes on the road, but that was clearly directed at both of them.

"Not that I can 'andle anymore therapy today but... I'm glad you came. Despite all the shit I put you through,you still showed up for Ryan's sake." Billy cracked an eye open to look horizontally up at the blonde in the back seat.-- "And I *did* put him through *a lot* of shit."

“He sure did.” MM cleared his throat and graciously grazed past the invitation to list his grievances. Butcher had put him through a lot. “Still. You're welcome, William.”. It was loving, no matter how condescending it sounded.

[justagalwhowrites]

these games are just the best for nosy people (me) 🤭

i’d love to know all of these!!

🧃🪐📚🧩

LOL HI BESTIE!

Please be nosy anytime lol

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before: I don't think I've talked about this but I'm insanely clumsy. Just... ridiculously clumsy. I fall a lot, I drop things CONSTANTLY and I've broken my left arm 3 times, my left foot in 2 places and my tail bone, mostly because I'm a klutz. Also, I'm obsessed with roller coasters. I have a favorite roller coaster manufacturer even, roller coasters are so cool!

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now: I'm planning a vacation with my husband for our 10 year wedding anniversary! I'm super excited about that, very much looking forward to laying on a beach for a week. I've been spending more time with some of my girlfriends lately and that's been really fulfilling. Most of my social contact is with my D&D group and my husband's family but I've been making a point of seeing people just for me lately and that's been so nice! And the last TWO chapters of Yearling I've felt so so good about. That's very VERY rare for me, I feel actively proud of only a handful of things I've actually done but chapters 30 and 31 of Yearling I was so proud of and that was really fun.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?: A list from my (now former) therapist about what to do when I get triggered. It's part of a bigger document of just "things I've learned in therapy" that I have as a resource as I work through things :) I don't use my notes app for much, though!

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?: I answered this on another ask, too, but another Fan Fic Ick for me is a canon character feels TOTALLY OOC to me. I should say, I don't think fan fic needs to have characters be in character! It's totally OK if they're not! But I have such a hard time holding the canon of a character in my mind alongside an OOC fic version, it's just cognitive dissonance the whole time I'm reading and it grates on me so I tap out pretty quick. Sometimes I go back and find work arounds so I can enjoy something that's popular or that I like for other reasons but yeah! I generally like my canon characters to be in character.

Thanks for asking, Bestie! Love you!!

[isayoldbean]

today is part 2 of the @woltourney beefaganda loredrop! in truth i meant to post the full thing yesterday but i was exhausted and my whole body threatened to beat me with sticks if i didn't go to sleep when i did, so. i will finish today!

when we left off yesterday, beef had decided to run away from her grief by committing atrocities and working her way up the most wanted list instead of going to therapy like a normal person.

unfortunately for everyone--including herself--she was incredibly good at it, experiencing a meteoric rise to infamy over the next few years. and while she did retain her own sort of moral code, the amount of blood on her hands could not be justified or rationalized away. she had to be stopped.

and so an ambush was laid. many had been attempted before, but this one was different--during the fighting, she received what should have been a mortal blow and was swept overboard into the sea. a brief search for her body yielded no results, but based on the damage she had taken and the amount of time she had been submerged, she was presumed dead and the mission deemed a success.

what they did not factor into the equation was hydaelyn. who would? the thought that the will of the star would intercede on the behalf of somebody like her would never have entered anyone's mind. and yet...

this was her chosen champion. although she could barely recognize her from her villainous behavior, there was no doubt in her mind that this was the warrior she had been waiting for. and so she reached out, expending as much aether as she dared to ensure her champion could continue on to fulfill her destiny.

and so the unconscious form of the roegadyn we now know as huge beef washed up on a distant shore, altered from the deluge of aether she had been subjected to in ways both perceivable and unknown, where she was found by a young raen woman who brought her home and nursed her back to health.

when she came to consciousness, her mind was a blank slate. the amount of aether her mind had been bathed in to keep her alive had the unfortunate side effect of aetherblasting her brain into something of a factory default. and yet even though she could not remember, she felt--a violent snarl of anger in her chest, urging her to lash out at somebody, anybody; a heavy cloud of grief she couldn't place that nonetheless haunted her like a shroud; a potent cocktail of abject misery that she had no reason to be feeling, and yet it refused to leave.

she was grateful nonetheless to the woman who had helped her, and offered to stay and help in any way she could. however, this was occupied garlean territory--somebody with her penchant for violence offering to 'help' could bring more danger than anything. and so the woman arranged to sneak her onto a ship headed for eorzea, where she could start anew.

when she arrived, she learned that eorzea was starving for adventurers. she could be as violent as she liked, and as long as she directed those impulses towards monsters, garleans, or other acceptable targets, she would earn praise, money, and glory instead of infamy and scorn. with an offer like that, how could she refuse? and so she set forth to make a name for herself.

eventually she was discovered by y'shtola, who despite her reservations about her character (as she was such a hot mess at this point), offered her the opportunity to join the scions and use her gift of the echo for a noble purpose. beef didn't see much of a reason to refuse, so she headed to thanalan to investigate.

at first, she saw the scions merely as the means to an end--all she wanted to do was fight stuff to appease the ever present roiling anger within her, but doing it for an allegedly noble cause would get her better benefits in the long run, and the scions had agreed to help her try to find out about her missing past as well. but as she continued to work with them, something strange began to happen: the anger and grief within her started to ebb away, and a strange warmth and peace took its place. she began to heal. from what, she didn't know. perhaps one day, she would remember.

aaaand that's beef's story through arr, roughly! obviously there were many more Horrors awaiting her as msq progressed but that's the basic backstory. if you read all this, consider voting for her in her upcoming @woltourney poll!

[tradingtruthsforlies]

I'm incredibly bonded with my cat, Sylvester. He's the cat that made me a cat person. He's a gorgeous tuxedo boy, and he's absolutely amazing. He sits on command for me, and follows me around like a puppy, and loves attention more than any animal I've ever met. He has the most comforting presence.

We're losing him on Monday. He has a pretty agressive tumor, and with his other health issues (kidney disease, a heart murmur, the fact that he's about 13), there's nothing else we can do but keep him comfy. He was doing well for a while, but there's been a rapid decline since Thursday morning. I brought him in for an emergency steroid shot at the vet, and picked up mirtazapine and gabapentin for him, and we're keeping him as comfortable as possible.

Monday is also, coincidentally, his Gotcha Day. I know he was an adult when I brought him home, but it's so incredibly unfair that I only get 3 years with him. EXACTLY 3 years.

I feel like such a bad cat mom, because I can't fix this. I'm trying to make his last few days as easy for him as possible, and trying to ignore how much it's killing me that he's going to be leaving me in a little over 48 hours.

The heat is blasting, because he likes to nap on top of the toasty radiator cover in the downstairs office.

He loves The Grateful Dead, so even though I hate it, I'm blasting it while he naps on my lap for one of the last times.

I have a pile of cardboard boxes set up, because he likes to conquer a mountain of them and look down over his kingdom.

He's been trying to peek out the front door since we moved, so I held him and took a walk on the porch with him yesterday to give him a chance to look around at what he's been so curious about. It was way too windy for him, but he loves the fresh air and there was so much to see and smell and enjoy.

He's had kidney issues for over a year, so he hasn't been able to have any scraps of his favorite salty, meaty people food. I made him a ham last night and set him a plate at the table and let him go to town. He followed that up with leftover mac & cheese (idk why but he's tried to steal mac & cheese forever) and then some baby food before bed. Today, I'm making him chicken breast and he's getting some deli meat during lunch time, because that's his other favorite. He's had a whole string cheese to himself this morning. I'm not hungry at all, and he's literally the only reason I'm cooking 😂

I'm spoiling the hell out of him because he deserves it.

I already miss him chirping during Zoom meetings for work, telling the house that he caught his toy. A little stuffed boat, with a crinkly inner tube hanging off the back of it with a beat-to-death feather. My magnificent little hunter man. He's pretty quiet, except for when he's playing. When I first brought him home, I literally thought there was a bird in the house the first time he chirped - I had never heard a cat do that before.

He can be demanding about the attention that he wants. I don't want to think about how weird it's going to be to sit down on the couch and not have him bat things out of my hands and my lap to get into his little spot on top of my legs. Or have his little face right up in mine, spookily quiet but unblinking, in the morning because he wants his breakfast NOW mom. He won't yell at me to leave my office because he wants to be downstairs and he wants his mom down there too.

I've already cried a lot. I was already planning on restarting therapy, but with this happening now, it's higher on the priority list. I'm going to miss the fuck out of my little bear.

[mavspeed]

Hi faerie_ground/ Desi,

I'm writing this in your ask box because for some reason my DMs are being stupid and not opening. My name's Kai, I go by Shearmouth on AO3, and I've been a rabid follower of "cloaked" since I found it around chapter 4's posting. I've already left you several reviews, but I wanted to reach out and let you know again how much this story means to me, and how grateful I am to you for creating it, so you can have a loving message from one of your readers to take into the new year (and on your much-deserved hiatus!) with you.

Trigger warning for CSA and its associated shittiness.

When I was 10 I was molested by a very close family member. Due to life circumstances, I didn't really have a way to get away from this person, and the response of my primary caregiver at the time was to kinda sweep it under the rug. Luckily it didn't happen again, but the body keeps the score and all that. 10 years later, during covid, the trauma started surfacing in therapy. I've spent the last 2 years working on it. I have been told by the same caregiver I confided in when it first happened to keep it to myself, don't talk about it, keep the peace in the family. There was a long time where I felt deeply broken, tainted almost. Like I never truly would heal from it. And I was so angry that it ever happened at all.

Though I've made tons of progress since then, I still find enormous catharsis in fanfic featuring sexual abuse and recovery. A few stand out, but yours is at the top of the list, despite being barely half posted. I've said it before but I'll say it again– your handling of the subject matter is nothing short of masterful. This is heavy, heavy shit. But you manage to say it out loud and look it in the face in a way that's both agonizing, and deeply moving. Maverick's reaction to his abuse is familiar to anyone who's gone through something like it, I think. The shame, the terror, the dread. Feeling like you've been dirtied beyond hope. That your friends and loved ones see you reduced to only what was done to you. And the rage. All that rage, with nowhere to go.

Maverick feels all this and more, and in the beginning it was torture to watch him go through it alone. As Ice slowly earns his trust again and works his way back into his heart, we see Maverick starting to let him in and lean on him. And Ice, flawed and frightened as he may be, is showing up for Maverick. He's standing by him through that terror and shame and rage. And we're seeing Maverick soften into it and accept that love from Ice.

So many people don't get that. So many people go through this alone, from start to finish. I was lucky. I have two amazing friends who stood by me, and a few excellent therapists. But even with them, working through this has seen me lonelier than at almost any other point in my life. I can't imagine how hard it is for survivors who truly don't have anyone. But here we get to see Mav accept the help, and start to move toward the path of healing. Ice, of course, can't fix this for him. But he can have his back. And that is invaluable. He's there for Mav even when Mav is being pissy and scared and angry and all the nasty emotions one tends to feel in the wake of such a traumatic experience. Thank you for giving that to him, and vicariously, to me. I can't wait to watch them heal, separately and together.

I'm rambling a bit, but the point is this: the story that you're making is incredibly profound. It's expertly executed. It's gripping and moving and heartbreaking. And for me, coming to it with my history, it's extremely cathartic. I'm so grateful to you for putting this into the world. Thank you.

I wait with bated breathed for the next chapter (even tho I'm scared, wtf does negative comfort even MEAN AUGH IM FRIGHTENED), and I'll be counting the days until February or whenever you come off hiatus! I hope you enjoy a well-deserved rest from this beast, and in the meantime happy new year!

Love, Kai

HIII putting this under a read more cos it got long. general trigger warning for discussions of rape/non-con/CSA

first off can i just say. i am SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO THIS this ask legitimately did not show up in my notifs. i had the shock of my LIFE when i came on tumblr web and realised i received 2 asks from you. lmfjgfjfjffj tumblr.............

second of all there is no need for an introduction (this may sound creepy) but i know who you are i really look forward to seeing your comments on cloaked you have no idea!!! each comment is like a balm to my soul i recognise every single one of my regular, semi-regular, dying-but-hanging-in-there commenters lmao i love yall serious

third!! this ask moved me to tears. seriously seriously SERIOUSLY it did i had to run off to the bathroom at work and then run back bc my work is a deadline-based hellsite. ANYWAY i am so sorry you went through that, you should never have done and these situations just remind us of how horrible and awful some people can be. im so glad you're seeking help for it right now, that's the right step and im so proud you had the courage to do it!

as for everything else- im also relieved that this story resonates with you! truth be told i was nervous about posting the first chapter bc its such a dark subject matter and we know what purity culture is like these days. don't discuss sensitive issues, don't put it in your fic, etc etc etc. i have my own opinions on these but in all honesty, cloaked was just going to be a straightforward retelling of tgm in tg86 squad's perspective until i came across a story handling rape/non-con..... not well. at all. and its not the first fandom ive seen this be handled in a way thats... just not to my liking, lets leave it at that. so believe it or not cloaked came about half out of spite and half out of personal reasons (i think i said some of it in my reply to you lol)

anyway thank YOU for sharing your story with me and please believe me when I say you're not alone!! a huge part of cloaked is the arc of mav coming to realise he doesn't have to deal with his trauma by himself. he has people around him (not just ice), and eventually, they push him to get the help he needs (is this a spoiler? nvm idc lmao). trust me, i put careful thought into it for a reason! thank YOU for realising it and coming to terms with it :') you're definitely not alone and anytime you feel as such, seek out help! my dms are always open too :D

also i feel like i don't need to say this but once again any form of way you use to go forth in your recovery is so so valid. if you wanna read my fic 1000 times over or others dealing in this content to get a step ahead, please do so. if you wanna ask me for personal headcanons/thoughts/etc in the cloaked verse specifically, please do so. im always ready and willing to talk!!

this reply got so godawfully long to end it off... i don't know which point you're at in the process of your recovery, but i hope you get the healing you deserve, which you do very much. thank you for being so brave to share your story <3 i sincerely hope cloaked ends in a fitting way to make you proud as well lmfkgjkgj ahhaha insert high-pitched nervous laughter

[redoqs]

Redoqs Rambles

TW: Anxiety

Overthinking has always been a rough thing for me though I never realized it until recently. It’s always had a way of sneaking up on me a lot of the time and by the time I realized that I’m doing it I’m already in deep. I start feeling almost overwhelmingly anxious—the worst of it including me being physically sick and unable to eat or sleep or do anything—and my mood is affected for a while after that until something comes along to pull me out of my funk and even then it only lasts for so long until the cycle starts again.

I’m not typing all this to focus on how bad the overthinking has gotten. I know how it felt when it was at its absolute worst. I know that if I had allowed it to continue it would cause me to harm those close to me and I refuse to let that happen. So after taking a bit to think about it, I took myself to therapy and it’s honestly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Over the course of the past few months the overthinking has gotten a lot better. Of course some days are more difficult than others, I know I still have things to learn and unlearn and sometimes the thoughts have a victory—for example, I had a thought today that got to me but I’m okay now. Proud of myself actually because months ago, a thought like that would’ve had me out of it for the whole day—but I have methods now that I can do that’ll help me ground myself whenever I get caught up in my thoughts. I have things I can do to help ease my mind and help me realize that about 99% of the things I’m thinking are not based on fact but rather assumptions that I’ve made up based on how I believed I felt.

A lot of good has come from it and I’m proud of myself but it’s not easy. The hardest part about all of this, for me, is admitting to myself that it’s all me. The overthinking and anxiety that comes from the thoughts, why I’m feeling the way that I do, how I allow myself to feel all stems from things within myself. No one wants to believe that they’re the problem but the best kind of people recognize their faults and try to fix them. Admitting that I’m the reason why I feel the way I do is daunting but also very freeing in a sense. I guess the first step to recovery is acknowledging that there are issues in the first place. I believe that it really works. Once I recognize what I’m feeling and where it’s coming from I can control it, give it time to run its course, determine if it’s based on fact or opinion and then let it go. It’s easier said than done but it does get easier everyday. This process allows me to control the flow of my thoughts before they get out of hand and focus on the positives rather than negatives that most likely won’t even happen. I want to get better and live my best life and every day I can feel myself getting closer and closer to that.

Like I said, this process hasn’t been easy but I’m getting through it and I’m proud of where I am now versus the beginning of the year. I have a few friends that I can definitely say have been there for me when some days were a little too much and I appreciate them more than they can ever know. I want to say though that there is someone else that I’m entirely grateful for, someone who’s never made me feel like I’m too much or that my personal feelings aren’t important. She’s been great to me, amazing actually. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life and I wish I could think of something, anything I could do to express to her at least a little bit how much I appreciate all she’s done. This process would’ve been a lot harder without her support so thank you so much for being by my side and helping me, reassuring me and loving me. It means the universe to me and I’ll always cherish you. I genuinely hope you know that.

[gorlsgurlsgirls]

Actually, I didn’t want to do this here bc I don’t want to be another person complaining about their husband, but I don’t have a lot of spare money for therapy at the moment and I don’t feel like I can talk to friends and family. I was nervous about that before I got married - who do I talk to when I need to talk about my marriage, my husband? I went into this not really knowing the answer. But this is my private tumblr damnit, so I need to get this out, if only for me.

Marriage is hard. And I knew it would be, even if I didn’t know specifically how. I’m trying my hardest but I don’t think I’m doing well with it. J works 60 hours a week in shipping/logistics and now that it’s the holidays, he went to work today. Who knows how many more weekends he’ll volunteer. I asked him not to, that I’ve been stressed with Teddy, but he said that the time and a half was too good to turn down. This hurts me. I know money is a huge stress factor, but it feels like he’s putting money before my sanity. I do the grocery shopping, the laundry, the cleaning, and try to manage his spending habits. I don’t want to paint him out as some loser - he is in recovery for opiate addiction from a gym injury years ago and a doctor that was too eager to prescribe him stronger and stronger meds. He’s three years clean, but his addictive behaviors show up in other ways that we’re working on. He didn’t have a good example of a healthy marriage or home/family life growing up, so I know he wants to overcome that. He tries, and I am grateful, even if I am impatient sometimes.

I had a meltdown last night because Teddy was being difficult all day. I am the one who is home with him the most - who wakes up to feed him and take him potty at 6:30 before I get ready for work. I buy his treats, prepare any snacks or puzzles for him during the day, take him for walks, feed him dinner, try to tire him out before bed. I work on training new skills and reinforcing things he’s already learned. There is mostly dirt with some patches of grass in the front yard where he goes potty so I wash his feet off daily and bathe him often. I don’t have a lot of free time bc he’s like a toddler, and some days it’s just very difficult. My MIL is home with him so I try to make things as easy for her as possible, but there are times where I feel like he’s annoying her and my FIL. So I look into obedience classes so I can get some help in the areas where I’m struggling.

I’m grateful that they let us live with them, but I’m so tired of living with my in laws. They should have been divorced 20 years ago and they snap at each other often. Their language can sound harsh sometimes when it’s a normal conversation, so I can never tell if they’re fighting or talking about the weather. My body always assumes fighting, so I try to hide in our room. But that’s difficult with a puppy. I think my FIL has dementia or something. He makes choices that are seemingly based in no logic, and it makes things stressful or difficult for everyone in the house, as he has hoarding tendencies and often leaves messes everywhere.

The house itself is quite old and has random holes and poorly done renovation that lets in bugs and pollen and so much dust. So there’s always always always something that needs to be cleaned. I’m desperate to move out but finally just replaced J’s 20 year old car so much of the savings went to the down payment. We live in Orange County and it’s just a difficult time to try and find a reasonably priced place to live.

I work in special education which wasn’t my plan, but last year the principal asked me to as a favor so I did. Even though I had no experience in special ed, it’s been alright for the most part. My schedule has changed about 8 times at random and they pull me to work wherever is needed, including things that were not in my job description. I have to be an expert on my 7 kids that I am with throughout the day. 4 of the kids are in a class where I hate the teachers management style, and that has led to a lot of disrespect from his students (not my kids) when I’m in there. Nothing gets done about this. I hate the new principal who is a raging jerk and think he’s gods gift to this earth. I don’t think I’ll stay past this year, if I make it through this year.

Earlier this year I decided I had to leave Mormonism. This has been one of the most devastating things in my life to experience. It felt like this was no longer my home, that they were becoming more extreme in beliefs that I couldn’t agree with or reconcile, that my personal beliefs didn’t align with them - the place where I learned my sense of integrity. It’s a strange thing to comprehend. Then after a lot of uncomfortable research, I realized it wasn’t true. I think there are so few experiences in life where you realize that everything is a lie, and I never expected my religion to be one of them. That has led to so much grief and an identity crisis, because the beliefs of Mormonism are so deeply intertwined with your sense of identity, how you move throughout the world, how you see others, what you think is coming after this life, what the purpose of anything is. I don’t have many answers now. I don’t know what this life is all for and must now create my own meaning. I’m also in the process of deconstructing the ways I’ve been hurt by sexuality and a strict purity culture and how this has affected my relationship with my husband. Mormonism also informs my sense of community so I’m not quite sure how to develop one outside of the church and I’m lonely at times. But the worst part is that I don’t feel like I can be honest and tell my family about it, because I am afraid of the way they will treat me, or how our relationship will change. The idea of love, in Mormonism, is somewhat conditional, so I have no idea how they will accept this news, and the ways I will disappoint them.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder around this time in 2020 after a difficult year. During a recent first time meeting with a psychiatrist, she informed me that she wasn’t sure this diagnosis was correct. I have often wondered this myself, which has been uncomfortable to think that you’re making things up about yourself, like it’s for attention. She thinks I could have a lesser version of it, as more people are starting to view bipolar as a spectrum, but at the very least, she says it’s some sort of mood disorder. All I know is that several times a year, I think I’m going insane. I try my damndest to keep my emotions under control, and wish I could get credit for how hard I try to be nice to others and to not destroy my own life regularly.

It’s not bad all the time. Some beautiful light is shining through the window right now. I live somewhere that keeps me warm at night and relatively safe. I have people who love me, even if they live far away. I’m listening to good music. Christmas is coming. I’m working on our room with holiday decorations so I can enjoy them. My car is running. We have food to eat. In this moment I am happy to get this all off my chest and give myself space to realize that I am sad about a lot of things, both yearning and contented. That is life, I suppose.