#tell me what healthy coping mechanisms that man has

[lildoodlenoodle]

We agree Ding Ding is named after the fact she either sounds or functions like a doorbell right? We also agree she, maybe unintentionally, functions as an ESA for Noir to help in dealing with his trauma after EVERYTHING.

#HE SOMETIMES CALLS HER DINGALING AUGHHH #dude by that point has been thru almost every type of trauma #and we know he ain’t getting therapy #he deserves a little buddy #he’s still WITH Felicia for gods sake #the 30-40 yr old who he slept with at 16/17 like GIRL #and it makes me so upset cause ik damn well the writers were not thinking or considering the implications of it #tell me what healthy coping mechanisms that man has #name one I dare you #like he’s so silly why’d he name her DingDing #also I’m pretty sure he’s the only Peter Parker we really see with a pet #I think there’s one comic based on MCU where he gets a fish #spider noir conspiracies #spider noir #spiderman noir #Spider-Man

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

It’s SO funny to me when I see movie fans writing alex as this daddy dom, himbo guy because Alex is so!!!

If you scream at him a little too loudly he’ll probably cry, just not in front of you. He falls in love really hard and deeply but it takes him so long to accept that he can also be loved hard and deeply! He has the highest grades ever 1) because he’s smart and 2) because he bases his self worth on making others proud, on being useful. He overworks himself, he runs to clear his head until his feet bleed, his coffee is bitter but so are his thoughts. He’s a softie, who writes his bf love letters and who probably giggles and kicks his feet while reading what henry writes back to him. He can absolutely destroy you in a debate, don’t even try to argue with him he’ll win each time. He talks a lot but he has never been listened to. His rivalry with Henry started with a bad meeting and also with constant comparison, because everyone compared them both, and it was just a constant reminder than Alex will never be enough. Henry was born on the spotlight, Alex wasn’t. Henry was white, Alex wasn’t. Henry had everyone’s support, Alex didn’t. *He is a jester and a devoted knight. He knows hundreds of fun facts and will tell you. He loves Texas despite the bad memories of his childhood and teen years it brings. He feels guilty for making his sister worry so much. He loves his mother despite everything, and she loves him too, but they have an unusual, almost unhealthy relationship. He needs to prove himself every minute of the day. He works as a distraction. He puts on a façade around everyone, golden boy, America’s heartthrob, no one sees his house key, his glasses, the hundreds of papers hidden under the windowsill, the pills stolen from Liam. Someone teach this man healthy coping mechanisms. He is a child of divorce, and this affects him more than he lets on. He is actually a huge nerd. He grew up poor. He was in denial about his sexuality for years. He definitely has abandonment issues. He might be impulsive sometimes (storming Kensington palace after being ghosted by Henry) but he usually thinks things through, and is very reasonable. He makes lists, tons of them. He has undiagnosed adhd and this has shaped him as a person in a way I can’t even describe. Before Henry, bea, and Pez, he didn’t have any friends aside from Nora and his sister. He grew up catholic. He is a romantic. And a dork. He is just as passionate about history as Henry is. But Nora makes friends, and Alex ends up with acquaintances who think they know him because they’ve read his profile in New York Magazine, and perfectly fine people with perfectly fine bodies who want to take him home from the bar. None of it is satisfying—it never has been, not really, but it never mattered as much as it does now that there’s the sharp counterpoint of Henry, who knows him. Henry who’s seen him in glasses and tolerates him at his most annoying and still kissed him like he wanted him, singularly, not the idea of him.

Always the talker, never the heard. Always good, never enough. Always ogled, never seen. Always the first son, never Alex.

#*jester as in his purpose is to entertain he’s not a person but a performance he has to make others proud make them laugh #and devoted knight as in he’ll overwork himself just to prove himself worthy he loves you it'll destroy him he'll make you proud he'll #destroy himself in the process to do it #alex claremont diaz #rwrb #casey mcquiston #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white & royal blue #rwrb book

[ghcstao3]

Ghost goes to the bar to drink to Soap's memory where he finds... Soap? Only he is there to drink in the memory of Ghost. Neither of them have any idea of how and why, but they aren't protesting. It's nice to see a familiar face as they mourn together.

cw for unhealthy coping mechanisms

it’s also just kind of. sad 🧍‍♀️my fault for writing memory loss

-

Ghost knows it isn’t a healthy decision but it’s… about the only way he can stand thinking about it. Thinking about Soap.

Because really, drinking is a barrier. It’s said it removes inhibitions, and sure, that’s true—but it also provides a filter for his grief whether or not he runs his tongue, and that obstacle before a feeling such as mourning is all he needs. It’s all Ghost craves, in a sense.

There’s no world worth existing in peace without Soap.

As per a new and frowned-upon routine by Price, Ghost seeks out a new bar or pub to drown nagging thoughts and lingering memories until it’s time to go home and fail to fall asleep sober yet again. Ghost isn’t proud of himself in the slightest, knows he’s ruining everything Soap had rekindled in him, but it’s too late to care.

He’s alone again. He’s nothing more than the shell of a man again.

But then, maybe three or four drinks in (Ghost doesn’t know, he’s long since stopped counting during his outings), someone slips into the stool beside him and flags down the bartender. This isn’t a major revelation or anything, it’s just… strange. No one has ever dared be in close proximity with Ghost in his time mourning.

Ghost can’t find it in himself to care, though. Not until this new person speaks, and it feels as if the haze of alcohol over Ghost’s mind evaporates in an instant.

He snaps his gaze to the man beside him, wondering if he’d just been imagining things, but no—it’s Soap, somehow. The very man Ghost came here to forget. To remember.

Before Ghost gets the chance to say something, Soap seems to catch his eye and turns to face him. He offers a bright smile, though it’s nothing quite as blinding as it had once been.

Soap’s grown out his beard and his skin’s a little sallow, and not to mention the grisly scar at his temple—but it’s still Soap. Certainly not healthy, but… alive.

“What brings you here, handsome?” Soap is asking, gently nudging Ghost’s shoulder.

Ghost wants to scoff. He wants to both tease and scold Soap for flirting with him just as Ghost is only learning that Soap isn’t dead, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Ghost treads warily. He plays into whatever game this is supposed to be.

“I’m grieving,” Ghost tells him flatly.

“Oh.” Soap’s face falls. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ghost shrugs, though his heart is in his throat. Is this some kind of a joke?

The bartender delivers Soap’s drink, and Soap doesn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgement.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Soap says, slowly tracing the rim of his glass, “I’m… also grieving.”

At this, Ghost cocks an eyebrow. Something feels… off, about what Soap is saying, but inebriated, Ghost just can’t quite put a finger on it.

“…well, maybe grieving is the wrong word,” Soap mumbles. “I don’t… I don’t know if he’s dead, but I—I don’t remember him. I don’t remember him, but I know he was important to me, so… it only feels right.”

And isn’t that bitter.

Here Ghost mourns a man he loved, and when he learns said man is still alive—he doesn’t even remember Ghost.

But Ghost has already dug his grave. He’s already miserable. So all he can do is torture himself further.

“Tell me about him,” Ghost suggests. “What you think you know.”

Soap looks at him in a way that hurts, but Ghost listens anyway when he begins talking. When he begins recounting the tiniest details, vague memories that seem too foggy to have been truly lived by himself. Soap orders a second drink at some point, and Ghost his fourth (or fifth).

That’s when Soap suddenly cuts himself off, completely angling himself toward Ghost. Ghost acts like he doesn’t notice Soap almost reaching out to set a hand on his forearm.

“—you know what… you look really familiar.” Soap is frowning, brows furrowed like he’s trying to piece something together. “Have we met before?”

And because Ghost is a cruel man, he just shakes his head. Offers nothing more than a curt, “No, we haven’t.”

Soap sighs, almost disappointed. “Well, in that case—I’m John.”

Ghost peers down at the hand Soap holds out to be shaken, but he can’t budge from his spot to hold it. He’s almost… afraid of the touch, like the contact might reveal to him that Soap isn’t really here at all.

Soap gets the hint eventually, though he isn’t at all deterred. Especially not when Ghost supplies him, “Simon.”

“Simon,” Soap echoes, expression drifting far away for just a moment. Nearly reminiscing. “I like that.”

Ghost huffs, something that could be interpreted as a laugh by a certain someone, once upon a time.

Soap clinks his glass against Ghost’s before downing the rest of his drink. He bumps Ghost with his elbow, teasing.

“To mourning,” Soap explains.

Ghost nods. Hums, “To mourning indeed, Johnny.”

He pretends not to notice the curious look that crosses Soap’s face at the use of the nickname.

Ghost already has more than enough to process first.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

[theshipden]

How would the main 6 react to finding out Mc has ptsd?

Cracks knuckles oh baby as someone with C-PTSD this is my JAM

Julien;

He listens to your explanation, never breaking eye contact. He understands, he’s a doctor, he talks you through it

When you’re having an attack, he’s quick to ground you and help you seek a good therapist

Protective asf, he will not let you do anything alone since it makes you nervous.

Learns every one of your triggers so he can prevent them, whether that’s stopping himself from doing it or someone else

Holds you and cries about what you’ve been through, promises to never let it happen again

Portia;

Post-traumatic- down-syndrome? (Tiktok reference)

Nah but she isn’t certain what that is or what it means, but she DOES read about it and teaches herself what it all entails

Asks julien for further knowledge and how to help

Asks if you need space, to talk, advice, or just her company

In the middle of your attacks, she rubs you. Whether it’s your hand, your back, carding her fingers through your hair, she’s anchoring you back to the ground again

Asks what you need from her when you’re anxious

“Reassurance? Quality time? A listening ear—a shoulder? I have two of those!”

Muriel;

He understands you more then anyone. And funny enough, your anxiety seems to go hand in hand with his own

You’re damn right people are scary!! And loud noises are overwhelming!! And you’re angry and scared and just want to feel safe!! Him too!!

He isn’t the best at staying grounded, honestly he’s still learning healthy coping mechanisms

But when he sees you struggling, he finds himself in the clearest state of mind. He listens, he’s nurturing, and very intuitive.

Smiles so soft and so warm when you calm down from an episode, never pushes you to talk

Sometimes, you panic together about the same thing. Something about seeing someone you love feel the same way as you do….feels like home. You’re not dramatic, you’re more in control then you originally thought, and you’re cared for. Just as you care for him, he cares for you

Nadia;

She’s very good at rationalizing your racing thoughts, using logic to soothe your panic when it seems to be becoming too much

Uses her hands to massage the tension out of your muscles and help you process and work through the feelings you’re having

Aromatherapy, 100%

Reserved a spa day for you, just you and her, no one else. She knows the company of the servants would make you mask

Probably offers to buy you an exotic animal just so you have someone at your side if she’s away when you spiral

Lucio;

This man probably tells you to calm down, not realizing that’s making it worse.

Blubbers an apology immediately after, stuttering wildly as he waves his arms frantically

“No! Don’t cry—-! Hey, darling, it’s alright! What’s happened? My love, can you look at me? Show me those gorgeous eyes, there you go, wonderful. Now, what’s gotten you so upset?”

Thinks someone’s responsible, fully plans on lynching them as soon as he’s figured out the culprit

If your trigger is an inanimate object, he WILL destroy it. And yell at the servants not to trigger you

Drapes his cape over you so you feel sheltered and calm, so you can hide if you don’t want to be seen but don’t want to be alone

Definitely glares at anyone who attempts to call you emotional or puts you down for a natural reaction to trauma

Showers you in compliments, covers the mirrors in little affirmations with lipstick

Asra;

He knew. He’s always known. Even before you did.

He’s very patient, extremely passive and cautious

He educates others on your behalf so you’re never in an unwanted situation or triggered on accident

Reminds you to take medicine, eat, drink water, etc

Asks the arcana to guide you and offer you wisdom and clarity

Constantly ensures you’re never in a night terror/flashback

Can immediately tell when your anxiety spikes, doesn’t even ask before he brings you into the shop in a controlled and familiar environment and asks to talk

Admires you and your courage, he tells you everyday how strong you are and how proud of you he is

#the arcana #julien devorak #portia the arcana #julien the arcana #asra alnazar #asra the magician #asra x reader #Julien x reader #count lucio #lucio montag #nadia the arcana #nadia x mc #portia devorak #portia x mc #muriel #muriel x reader #muriel x apprentice #lucio x apprentice #lucio x reader #julian devorak

[coeluvr]

Frequently Asked Questions

Hello! There have been a lot of repeated asks and I wanted to answer them once and for all so I don't clog the dashboard with the same thing over and over. :)

What is the purpose of MC being a child in the beginning?

I wanted MC to be at their most vulnerable place possible so MC is a child in the beginning. In Chapter 2 there is a timeskip to when they are 15 and then in Chapter 3 they become 20.

Does MC have to become the Royal Consort?

Yes.

How many books will there be?

I'm planning on this being a duology!

Will we be able to choose X, Y, and Z?

Regarding the MC, you will be able to choose the following:

Appearance except for their eyes which are red by default. *

Pronouns

Gender identity

Type of compliments they prefer

Type of clothing they wear

Tattoos / Scars

Coping mechanisms **

Personality and Public Image

The things that are set are:

MC's age

MC's eye color *

Due to the events of the story, your MC will want revenge at the beginning of the story no matter what. ***

* Why are MC's eyes red by default?

Each of the royal families has a signature eye color, MC's family's eye color is red. Eye color is extremely important in this story.

** What kind of coping mechanisms are there?

Here is a list of the current unhealthy coping mechanisms:

Substance Abuse, mainly alcohol.

Sleeping too much

Not Sleeping at all

Overworking

Taking Unnecessary Risks

Excessive amounts of Sexual Acts

Self Care being nonexistent

Excessive Spending

Here is a list of hobbies that are considered a coping mechanism if your MC does not have an unhealthy coping mechanism:

Dancing

Singing

Playing instruments

Cooking / Baking

Hunting

Forging weapons

Gardening

Painting

Writing

Reading

How many can I choose?

You can choose:

2 hobbies = 2 healthy coping mechanisms, mostly treated as hobbies

1 hobby + 1 unhealthy coping mechanism

1 hobby + 2 unhealthy coping mechanisms

Is this mandatory?

Your MC must have a hobby but they do not have to have an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Which unhealthy coping mechanism is the worst for each RO's route?

I'm not a fan of spoilers and I think it will be much more interesting to see for yourself later on.

*** Why is MC set on revenge in the beginning of the story?

MC lost their entire life at the hands of Luceris and then got forced into the role of the Royal Consort. It wouldn't make sense, to me (the author), if young MC didn't want any sort of retribution.

Can MC decide not to pursue revenge once they are older?

Yes.

Just to make sure, there is a path of revenge in this IF, right?

Please read the intro post and what I wrote above.

Quick answer: Yes.

So MC can kill Luceris as revenge?

Yes. This is the only possible death I will confirm so please do not ask me about the other characters.

Can MC do X, Y, and Z as a form of revenge?

Why don't you play and find out?

At least tell us if MC can romance Helios for revenge.

Yes, that will be possible.

If MC does that, can they also genuinely romance someone else?

No. The ROs are all on friendly-ish terms with each other and would not have that type of relationship with MC if they were playing around with Helios.

Remember, the routes WILL lock at some point, until then everyone is free game.

MC will be able to have flings / one-night stands in any route though.

Who can we have a fling with?

The following list will be updated as characters are introduced:

Lord Eadred / Lady Eadith

The others have not been introduced yet!

Is romance mandatory?

No.

Does MC have to engage in [insert immoral things]?

No.

Isn't MC being the Consort of a grown man weird?

Yes, it is. People in the story do not think it is normal or acceptable.

It is supposed to make you feel uncomfortable.

For some reason a Luceris x MC romance sounds good...

Absolutely not. If you send me an ask with this type of content you will be blocked.

Is NSFW allowed?

Yes.

Can I call Hunter [insert gendered term]?

Sure but I will not answer asks in which they aren't referred as they/them. I don't want people to think they are a specific gender in my head.

Why is Hunter's route so angsty?

Wait and see!

Does every route have angst?

Yes. Even the ones that are "easy" :)

When's the next update coming?

When it's ready!

Wait... Did I miss an update?

Please check the game's itch.io page and take a look at the posts. I will always post something to let everyone know about updates or other extra content.

You should add the game to your collection to receive notifications of posts.

When does MC become an adult in the main story?

As I mentioned before, MC is 20 in Chapter 3.

Can you add [customizable thing]?

You can suggest it but I can't promise anything.

Can we draw the characters and imagine them differently?

Yes, you can draw them.

Yes, you can imagine differently as long as it does not whitewash any characters. I don't want to see fair white pale skin Luceris/Helios/Fadiya/Hunter.

Yes, I've seen it before and hated it.

Can we write fanfiction?

Yes! I won't interact with it to protect myself so please don't send it to me.

Can we create other types of fanworks?

Yes!

You don't answer my questions.

Sorry! For a better understanding of what I answer and what I do not answer see my ask guidelines.

How would the ROs react to X, Y, and Z?

I'm guessing you didn't read my ask guidelines.

All the asks are very appreciated, but I'm afraid you will be disappointed if you send me these because I won't answer.

[Any theory]

I love reading them so keep them coming but I will no longer post them!

If you wish for others to see it and discuss it with you, I suggest joining the Official Discord Server.

This whole thing is problematic to me.

Great, this is supposed to have problematic elements and none of the characters are saints.

Why can't we choose [insert thing + complaining]?

Please write fanfiction or something else and do not come to me to complain.

Are Luceris and Lancelot just friends?

Stick around and find out.

Luceris or Lancelot romance route when?

They were adults when MC was a child. I would rather die than write that.

Luceris is a loser pedo!

He is a loser but not the latter. He doesn't find any children attractive. Hope that clears things up! :)

Well then... you're the pedo!

Please look up what that word means and stop throwing it around.

I don't like this.

Don't read it. :)

Can I give you [insert gift]?

It makes me extremely uncomfortable so I would prefer it if people didn't gift me things. If you wish to support me please do it through Ko-Fi, Patreon, or Itch.io donations.

[Any rude comment]

I don't care.

[Any praise or jokes]

I might not reply but I read all of them! Thank you for being here. 💗

That's all I can think of right now. This will be updated as I remember more.

Don't hesitate to send me asks that weren't answered here!

#faq #interactive fiction #crown of ashes and flames #last updated: #sept 29

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #2 – He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan

I’ve had this sitting on my bookshelf since it came out but, as so often happens, having it just laying around meant it faded to the background whenever I was deciding what to read next. Not the worst case of that (there’s a lovely of Cyteen that’s been sitting on my dresser and shaming me for at least a year now), but certainly long enough for me to regret it.

The story is a direct sequel to She Who Became The Sun, a low fantasy retelling of the fall of the Yuan Dynasty and the ascension of Zhu Yuanzhang to the imperial throne – though in this universe the ‘real’ Zhu Yuanzhang died a starving peasant child, and his sister assumed his identity and his destiny of greatness, willing to do anything and everything it takes to force the world into alignment with it. The book starts with her having lost her right hand, and only gets more emphatic about making her prove it from there.

Aside from Zhu, the narration’s split between several different points of view that fill out the struggle for the future of China. The book honestly does a better job with multiple POVs than the vast majority of epic fantasy I’ve read – every one is a thematic mirror of Zhu on one level or another, and every one has an arc dedicated to the book’s twin fascinations of what it means to be willing to do anything to achieve what you want on one hand, and gender nonconformity and queerness in an intensely patriarchal traditional society on the other.

The actual plot of the story is almost episodic – Zhu encounters some new obstacle on her way to victoriously marching to the Mongol capital at Dadu that can’t be defeated with the blunt force she has available, and she and some collection of the supporting cast goes on an insane adventure to snatch victory regardless. Then every so often there’s a cutaway to Wang Baoxiang (who, among all the other POVs, is easily the one that comes closest to deuteragonist status) scheming his way through imperial court politics in Dadu in his incredibly operatic and self-degrading scheme for revenge on his dead brother. The plots start affecting each other quite early, but I’m pretty sure it’s only in the last twenty pages or so that the two of them actually meet face to face (it is in fact a minor plot point that Wang can’t recognize Zhu when he sees her). It all manages to feel like it’s capturing a whole swathe of political intrigue beyond any one person’s understanding and feel fairly well plotted and cohesive as it comes together. Not that there aren’t plenty of points where you have to just run with it and not push back at what the book’s telling you but nowhere where it’s serious or blatant enough to actually be an issue.

I’m not sure it’s a complaint per se, but one thing that did take some adjusting to is just how, melodramatic I suppose? All the POVs in the book feel very profoundly and effusively, and also have absolutely zero awareness or understanding of their own emotions. This is particularly acute with Wang and Madame Zhang, but in every case there’s just a lot of characters being driven by emotions too large to be contained within them. It kind of feels like a musical, in that respect (but absolutely no other, to be clear).

Anyways, this is a book with absolutely massive amounts of Gender in it. With like, literally one exception, every POV is to some great extent defined by struggling against their position in the gender system of medieval China, and all the issues doing so their entire lives has left them with (Zhu is far and away the most healthy and well-adjusted about this.) Importantly, being oppressed and marginalized for being a woman/effeminate man/eunuch is in no way edifying or ennobling – it’s mostly left everyone involved deeply damaged and full of coping mechanisms that serve them poorly and everyone around them far worse. There’s basically no mention of even the idea of solidarity among the oppressed here – Madame Zhang tortures, mutilates and kills her own maids and her husbands’ consorts whenever necessary, Wang operatic revenge plot involves befriending and seducing a queer prince knowing it will get him killed in the end, Ouyang hates how effeminate his body is and deals with this by becoming a pathological misogynist – even Zhu doesn’t spare much to think about the cause of woman’s liberation beyond herself and her wife.Given the state of a lot of modern genre lit I honestly found this rather refreshing.

As both cause and consequence of the choice of POVs, the book has a rather interesting relationship with normative masculinity. There’s, as far as I can tell, exactly two examples of successful heroic/virtuous normative masculinity in the book – General Zhang and the Grand Councillor of the Yuan – and despite both being really incredibly competent and fearsome on the battlefield and legitimately selfless and honorable, both end up condemned as traitors to their respective lieges (both indolent, vicious, and generally contemptible men without anything in the way of redeeming features, themselves) and dying unpleasantly after being outmanoeuvred in court intrigue. Victory in the end goes not to those who are cherished by their society but the ones who are overlooked and brutalized by it but are willing and able to do whatever it takes and use anything and everything they can to claw their way to the top despite it.

Speaking of – the overriding throughline of the story is what it means to be willing to do anything to achieve your life’s ambition. Being willing to endure pain and suffering goes without saying, and while the book does put its leads through the physical ringer, that’s not really what it’s interested in. Are you willing to spend the lives of those who trust and rely upon you? Sacrifice those you love, or ask them to die for you? Betray those who have only ever shown you kindness? Are you willing to degrade and humiliate yourself, or lie and betray your own hard-won and precarious identity? And once you’ve done all that, and finally achieved your heart’s desire – well, are you really sure it was all worth it? Three cases out of four in the book, at least, ended up regretting it in the end.

This is a book that’s very concerned with sex and sexuality but, like, very nearly exclusively in offputting or unpleasant ways. There’s something like a dozen sex scenes (okay, ‘scenes with sex in them’ is probably the less misleading description. If you come looking for porn you’ll be disappointed) in the book and of them I believe exactly one that you could characterize as enthusiastically consensual and mutually enjoyable. Maybe three, if you count the incredibly toxic relationship which boils down to asking for help dong self-harm and it turns into a sadomasochist thing. Which never becomes/is never understood as sexual by the people engaging in it but describing it is definitely the closest the book gets to erotica. In any event, just somewhat surprising to see so much sex paired with so little romance, relative to most modern stuff I’ve read. Ties into how alienated literally everyone is from their bodies, I suppose.

Also I really don’t know enough about the historical memory of the early Ming dynasty to know whether all the stuff about how Zhu knows what it’s like to be nothing and how she’ll reorder the world to care for everyone is supposed to read as really darkly ironic or not.

#he who drowned the world #shelley parker chan #lesbian space atrocities #sff #tht #map fantasy #book review

[shopcat]

On a Tuesday afternoon, Steve announces, with no drama at all, "I'm going to kill myself."

Dustin spins around to face him so cartoonishly fast that Steve kind of expects a Looney Tunes-style sound effect to follow. "What? Don't say that," he says, voice pitching up high like it gets. "Don't say that!"

Somewhere to their left from the tucked-in, cozy depth of the Henderson's new kitchen, Steve hears the echo of Lucas's laugh.

Lucas gets him.

Steve turns, hair flopping, and screws his face up at the world's saddest baby cow impressionist standing above him. He's lying on the floor of their carpeted lounge, lazing like a cat in a sunbeam. Man, Mews 2 has it all figured out, if you think about it.

He can't remember what the invitation was originally headlined as – like most days lately, they kind of just want to make excuses to hang around each other and cling on like little freaky leeches and the starring act tends to be whatever bullshit they manage to get up to in the meantime. It’s in that codependent way that he hopes is endearing, and a healthy coping mechanism of solidifying bonds and not, like, weird. Dustin was like, "come over, you graduated a Scoops alum, we can make sick sundaes!" but they've just been lying around (literally!) waiting for that little unreliable shit second-act Wheeler to turn up with the supplies he said he would totally have covered, totally!

"Sorry, bud," he says and laughs like ah, what can you do? "I know you see me as like a– like, some sort of an older sister slash, ah, father figure, and this will be hard for you–"

Dustin moves to kick him, going right for his softest bits. "Hey!" Steve yelps, jolting away instinctively, ending up rolling around on the carpet. "You're such a bully!"

"Dickhead!" Dustin argues, "You're a dickhead!"

He's really getting out of control. "Be nice to me!" Steve whines and presses his face into the scratchy rug he landed on. He can feel the vibrating scrape-scrape of Dustin's shoes tapping around his head. "You gotta be nice to me. This isn't how you should be responding to someone who's trying to open up, you know, mentally–"

"Mentally?" Dustin cries over him. "You'd need a goddamn brain!"

Steve cracks an eye open. "You're a little fucker," he says like it's a compliment. "You want me to come up there? That window is pretty close, you know. And you're a little guy," he pinches his fingers together with a little impish squint of his eye.

"Cliché! Gonna throw me out the window, you goon? Or what, is it assisted suicide now?" Dustin blusters and scoffs, but he shrieks when Steve hauls himself up using the window ledge. Steve gives him a look like hey, c'mon, because hey, c'mon, tells him, "That's just straight up murder, dude."

Dustin huffs, hands on his hips, and there’s a little phantom tap on Steve's shoulder pointing out his sudden similarity to Mrs Henderson, which: cute.

"Ah, look, I'm just messing around with ya," Steve apologises, hand settling on the ledge and leaning back. "It's not a big deal. I get job rejections all the time. Worse comes to worst... we can set up a lemonade stand or some shit. Or like, walk dogs." He swirls his wrist around nebulously.

"You don't like dogs," Dustin argues.

Steve grins. "I put up with Munson, don't I?"

Dustin gasps, then laughs, then gasps again like he can't believe he betrayed his little friend. Or like, his big friend. Whatever. "You have something dark and twisted in your mind," he tells Steve solemnly, and Steve cackles. "And you're a– a little B-word, because you don't want to look for jobs without Robin holding your hand. Ha! Or, actually, your," Dustin looks around conspiratorially at exactly no one, then mouths: "Dick!"

Steve stares at him. Huh. Well, ew. "B-word? You mean, like... bitch?" he whispers, mocking, then pulls up. "Also, ew."

"What do you mean ew?!" Dustin exclaims, throwing his arms up. "Dude! Robin's a totally rockin' babe! Also, yes, the frickin' B-word. I respect women now, man."

"Wh– now?" Steve laughs out, shaking his head. "Like you didn't before? Also, don't look at me like that! It's ew because I don't want you talking about that stuff! It's gross!" He makes a little eurgh gesture as he says it.

"Also, are you fifty? Who says rockin'?" he goes on, sneering a little on the edge of too meanly. "I can't be the only one seeing the irony here that you just totally disrespected a woman, like, just now. Like not even a second ago!"

Dustin pulls a face at him, 'cause Steve's the one being unreasonable. "Robin's not a woman, Steve. She's a beautiful creature-girl starving among the toxic, governmental backwash fuelled, boot-licking sheeple we call Americans. And she doesn't say the B-word either."

This kid. Also, not even true – he's pretty sure Robin was the one who kept writing "bitch boy" on his fifth-draft resumé under "life skills". That or like, the librarian Hopper hopped on is mean as hell in a super unexpectedly wounding and targeting way.

"Munson is teaching you bad words! Naughty, naughty fucking words!" Steve yelps, feeling weirdly like he’s being a grass or something. "What happened to being American heroes, huh?" The question, with a voice rasping like a drowned man, is directed to the slowly spinning ceiling fan.

Dustin grumbles something nasty that's definitely naughtier and definitely another tried and true Eddie-ism in the syllable count alone. Steve ignores him bravely, flopping down onto the couch and stirring up the same sort of warm perfumey smell Mrs Henderson favours. He slides down 'til he's comfy and crumpled up. Mews 2, who up until now was dozing on the knit-cover cushion, is in dire need of being scooped into his arms and held like a wittle baby.

"Anyway," Steve sighs. "Enough with the Robin stuff. There is no Robin stuff, I told you. It's just hard to find part-time hours right now, ever since, y'know."

"Y'know," Dustin repeats solemnly, nodding. He rocks back and forth on his heels, making the red afternoon sunbeam coming through the window shift and flick across the room. Steve shoves his face into the cat's fat little belly, sighing through fur and domestic cushion smell.

"Maybe I can sling ice cream again," he suggests, muffled, "It's not that hard. Actually, it's not hard at all." He lifts his head, scrunching his nose up. "And I probably don't have to wear a dumb little outfit at, like, Dairy Queen."

In the kitchen, Lucas drops something that skitters around in a way that can’t be good for the new French tile. He doesn't know what they're cooking in there, exactly, but through hearing Lucas knocking about like he's tripping on dustbunnies (like his Grandpa Otis would say, 'cause old people are always just inventing crazy shit to say) he can deduce it's something messy and/or gnarly. He also knows Max is nursing some sort of herbal tea because of the five-minute argument over, like, the amount of sugar she takes he listened to unashamedly before. Totally not the dramatic teen drama sesh he thought it’d be when he initially tuned in, though.

The drawers have ceased crashing open and shut in that grating, teenaged way – ambient noise for the single mothers and Adderall-soaked babysitters of the world – so he assumes whatever culinary delight it is is wrapping up.

He thinks to himself, with a fond little tug at his dumb bleeding heart, that Lucas has known how Max likes her fancy Californian tea for years now. He’s just like, like that.

In his peripheral, Dustin beams and crashes down next to him – hey – and tells him: "I loved your little outfit. Everyone loved your little outfit. The little outfit made the job. It was... cute! And, you were totally kickass and beat the shit out of a Soviet guard in that outfit!"

"Yeah," Steve suffers out. "It was pretty awesome. But I think I got zero play for a reason. And I'm all game!"

That uniform rode up like crazy, too, and not even in the kind of like, coy and coquettishly sexy way that he’d like to believe he could pull off if given the chance. He always felt like one, too-quick popping of a squat to grab another weird sticky bag of caramel topping from the storage closet would split the seam hole to pole. (Hole to hole?). Plus, according to the magazine he read forty minutes ago on the floor of Robin’s bedroom, that shade of blue so didn’t go with his skin tone. He’s an Autumn.

"Well, you'd have to wear a dumb hat again at DQ," Dustin points out, because he hates him. "And, gross. Don't gross me then– then gross yourself."

Steve carefully flattens Mews 2's ears down with his palms, then exclaims, "That hat!" He groans. "Gag me with a spoon, I think I really would kill myself if anyone saw me in that thing again. All I was missing is a fruity little lollipop."

He sees Dustin's eyebrows rise and the way he repeats fruity to himself quietly. "You are getting way more homophobic lately, Steve. And you're a misogynist," he declares, all puffed up.

What!

"What!" Steve splutters. "I'm not misogynist! I love women. And girls. All women, and girls, and ladies a-and moms. I love your mom! Okay– sorry. I got flustered."

He rubs the bridge of his nose with pinched fingers. "Also, I meant, like, fruity like strawberries and cream, not, like, a strawberry with, y'know... cream," He adds coyly with a little eyebrow wiggle.

Dustin sits there for a moment, then goes a little red and starts laughing, which makes Steve feel, like, nice. It's always a little thrilling when he can actually get any of these kids to laugh, for some reason.

"Shut up! This is what I'm talking about!" Dustin complains.

Steve turns his head, hiding the slip of his smile in the couch he's pillowed into. "I'm not homophobic, man," he tells him, trying to really show he's earnest through tone alone. Honestly, the very la-a-st thing he needs is Henderson actually believing this in one way or another, if not for his own lavender coated, closeted well-being then for the integrity of their weird little friendship. "You know that. If you ever catch me being actually homophobic you're allowed to fucking, I dunno, just kill me dead. Outsource it to Nancy or something. Or, hey, Mike!" he says, bringing his head up with his aha! moment accompanied by a click of his fingers.

"Mike?" Dustin repeats, acting out one of his exaggerated jeez, this fucking guy! routines, flapping his arms around like crazy. "First of all, if I was outsourcing your murder – which I can't buh-lieve this conversation has come back to, by the way – Mike would be last on my list."

Well that’s a little mean, maybe. Steve looks him up and down and decides to really ham up his disbelief. He clutches Mews to his chest all dramatic, like a fuzzy pearl necklace. "Why? Because you wanna murk me yourself? You're sick, dude!" he says.

"No!" Dustin shoves him, and Steve repeats, "si-i-ick!" until he shoves him again.

"I could never assassinate you, Steve. We're brothers in arms. You'd have to, like, be really evil. And even then, it'd have to be really evil stuff. No, I've thought about this," – and he ignores Steve, going up three octaves, You've thought about this?! – "You're forgetting we actually know a superpowered death weapon who can explode your mind into goo in like, uh, a nanosecond. But, well, El likes you too much…" He clicks his tongue like, darn.

This is kind of news to Steve. He's always gotten the impression that El, while cute as a button and much like some sort of fucked up amalgamation of this adorable, curly-headed baby deer and velociraptor, didn't think of him in any sort of particular way. But maybe he's always been too busy feeling that weird mix of genuine fear and genuine aw whenever he's around her to really focus on like, the dynamics.

Dustin is saying, "I don't know if Robin would do it, but she probably knows you the best so she'd be able to figure out the perfect way. And she'd be really nice about it, too, because of your big, freaky bond. But that wouldn't stop her," he book-ends, nodding sadly.

"It wouldn't," Steve says with a sappy smile. He loves her, not that he'd ever admit that outside of his like, car. She'd probably lace his favourite drink with something, then freak out that he wouldn't feel like peach-flavoured iced tea that day, and end up lacing his whole fridge. Then it wouldn't even be poison, it'd just be like, sleeping pills, and she'd just put a pillow over his head. Slit his throat with a freshly plucked thorn from a rose, or something. Or, maybe she'd just go super-crazy-murder and cut him up like the fancy cheese her mom likes.

"Mike could snag a piece from Nance's stash," Steve suggests, to attempt to derail where he knows this is going, and because he kind of believes this, really. The ka-chik finger gun gesture he does stops Dustin from talking about whatever he was saying about Max throwing his body in the quarry "like, for the irony" just to shriek until his voice cracked.

"Why are you so caught up on Mike?" Dustin slaps his hands down. "Mike would shit his pants!"

"He's got hidden depths," Steve protests, feeling weirdly protective now. It's not Mike's fault he's sixteen or whatever. Plus, he's got a shit dad, too. Steve likes Mike. "He's loyal," he nods, like he's convincing himself now, gesturing with a closed fist, thumb folded like a politician would. "If someone needed to take me out, he wouldn't want anyone else to get blood on their hands. He thinks about that stuff!"

Dustin's got his face smooshed in his hands, but he's sunk down into the couch alongside him by now, pressed against his side. Steve's warm at every angle, sandwiched between a boy and his cat. "He wouldn't do it. He's squeamish. He'd only do something like that for, well, Will, probably?" And that's a little interesting. "No, no, Mike wouldn't do it. But Eddie would."

"Munson?" Steve gapes. "No way, man! It took two months to clear his name for a murder he didn't even do! And that was with grodie government guy help, too!"

Dustin waves him off. "No, listen. Listen! The aftermath isn't in play here, okay? Eddie would kill you so-o-o good, no questions asked. He's got the means, he'd have the motive, he's bigger than you–"

"Oh, get real, you know that's a lie!"

"– he's scrappy, and! He'd like it." Dustin finishes, leaning in and slapping it down like a period on a sentence, and something fizzy oozes around Steve's insides, and, uh. Suddenly he remembers the way, last Fall, that a shattered beer bottle was held to his neck instead of "hello," and now he’s a little on edge, he thinks. Is it being on edge when you’re like flushed and squirmy? And scared? But like, nervous-scared? Like, why does the thought of Eddie not liking him make him want to throw his guts up?

Steve clears his throat. (Is it like butterflies? Or something?) "Okay, you're crazy," he says. "Are you saying Munson hates me, now? Or is this some sort of, like, my dad can fight your dad thing?”

Dustin flushes and says no emphatically, but Steve doesn't fully believe him. "I'm not saying he hates you. I'm just saying he's your best bet. And that he'd think it was super punk rock. It's like, y'know, cemeteries. He'd turn your skull into a bowl or something."

"What do you mean it's like cemeteries?! Also, that's not even punk, it's like, goth," Steve corrects, a little too quick to not be suspicious, but barely thinking about it all the same. "Plus, you're saying he doesn't hate me, but now you're actually making me feel worse about it. Munson doesn't hate me! He likes me!" Steve's eyes widen, a little comically, and now his heart picks up oddly, and he looks into Dustin's eyes like the man starved for validation he is. "Wait, Dusty. Eddie likes me, right? Right?"

Dustin's smile turns strained and ends kind of serial-killery, which fits the conversation but doesn't pan out well for Steve, predictably. "Um," he starts, slowly, and carefully says, "Okay, you seem to be freaking out. Don't freak out."

"What do you mean, don't freak out!" Steve picks at it, feeling totally justified here – he's been hysterical before, he feels pretty entitled to screaming and crying in response to the occasional state of the world that seems to try to eat him as the worst bi-annual event ever, and he feels this is almost tantamount to that. Almost. And he’s nervous! "You just told me Eddie Munson actually wants to knife me!"

"That's not what I said," Dustin protests quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder, soothing, and tells him, all smiles, "I said he'd be happy if he had to."

"I thought we were friends!" Steve whines. "I gave him an apple last week and he said thank you, that's significant! It's friends! We're totally friends!"

Dustin says, "Steve, Eddie's allergic to apples," in that obnoxious tone of his, and the last of Steve's sanity is smothered in its sleep.

#🍦 #sts #hiii decided to just post this after sending it around to like 6 different people over the months #i have never written anything in my life and never will again but it is a little bit funnies #the premise is a conversation where steve is gay and dustin doesn't know that obviously. but he does know eddie has a CRUUUSH #so two conversations about the same thing meaning the complete opposite 🫶 #steddie #and also just them hanging. hashtag hanging #oh steve is also trans gay in this cuz he is all the time anyway . to me . hashtag implied transgender

[chaoticbardlady99]

I’m so glad you said something about AA. To be honest, I feel like a lot of people who like Astarion mischaracterize him in general, but especially AA. It really worries me to see people use AA as a coping mechanism because— and I mean this nicely— not all coping mechanisms are healthy.

In short, I 100% respect your decision to not write AA.

Thank you and thank you for your nice words!

TW: mentions of DV and Abuse

I am in agreement with you- I may drink to relieve stress, but is that healthy? No, so I don’t see how this is really any different.

There are better coping mechanisms out there (as you mentioned 💜) and really beautiful romantic relationships that can make you feel uplifted and strong.

Side note that I have also noticed- characterizing him (AA) as a Dom/sub relationship is false. I’ve been active in the Kink scene (in a VERY large city) before and that is not what a Dom/sub relationship is. It’s just abuse.

Also can someone tell me where people are getting “Astarion has always been evil” shit? Cause obviously I didn’t watch the same interview with Neill. He was literally saying that Ascended Astarion is more operatic with his drama versus Spawn Astarion who stays in the same theatre-esque mask, but is just in general healthier????

The man is traumatized beyond belief- I wouldn’t want to help others either if I was in his space. It’s a miracle none of us will ever live that long because damn- if I had to go through my childhood for 200 years I would have lost my shit already.

Post below mentions DV and violence- if you would like to read my genius, the link has arrived!

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav

[storiesandthingsofthatnature]

You Can Cry If You Want To

Summary: You made a promise to yourself long ago that you would never cry again. However, unhealthy coping mechanisms lead to even worse ones. However, Leon is here for you

Word Count: 1.6K

Pairing: RE4! Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, cursing, a single slap that was heard around the world, ummmm, that's it? Do let me know tho!

Disclaimer: Nothing to report :3

A/N: So I'm back again but with something fluffier this time uwu Have a comfort fic :3 I'm probably going to add a rules thingy to my blog and pin it to the top soon so be sure to look out for that if you wanna ask me to write anything for you! :D

Anyways, enjoy!

Being in this line of work you have to come to terms with the fact that you’re going to carry some heavy weight. From the deaths of your teammates to a failed mission that ultimately led to casualties. Not every task ended with a happy ending; human miscalculation and error will always be a consequence. But that wasn’t what bothered you today. No, this was a battle that you had been fighting ever since you could remember; mental illness. 

You had bi polar disorder - an illness that has caused a lot of strife in your life. You had hoped that enlisting into the secret service would be more than enough to distract you from your personal qualms but it just seemed to make it worse. However, jumping out now would just fuck you over financially and you weren’t sure just how long it would take to dig yourself out of that hole. So, you grinned and bore it. In front of your superiors, in front of your colleagues, and especially, in front of Leon. 

Leon Kennedy was a man of high regard and well respected amongst his peers. You were no exception. It was always an honor to work with Leon and a mission became more secure when he was around. But with constant contact comes welling feelings and you couldn’t stop yours from appearing. It was a slow burn, a small cinder that slowly grew into a healthy flame that now resided deep within your chest only for Leon. You could never tell him, however. You were sure that he had someone outside of work and that you were no way in league with him. So, you just let your feelings fester, an unhealthy way of trying to rid yourself of this puppy crush. 

And with unhealthy coping mechanisms comes unhealthy actions - you hurting yourself. You weren’t doing it because of Leon, but the added stress of possible unrequited love was enough to overturn the teetering table that was your fluctuating moods. It always started the same, your manic episodes; you become quiet yet violent to where you go on a small rampage. After you nearly demolish the area around you, you just sit down and sob. 

After a certain amount of time, you made yourself a promise that you would never have such an episode again. And, right before you entered the service, you started your streak. Through all of the shit and harsh training, you never broke your self promise. How embarrassing would it be to shut down like that in front of your team anyway? Especially Leon. 

You could never let them know about this side of you. But because of this you were left with a single, toxic mechanism which was cutting into your arms. You felt lucky that you could wear long sleeves with your uniform but you also wore bandages so as no dirt or sweat could get into the wounds. You craved the pain but you still wanted your arm. 

Lately, though, you were becoming quite sick. Due to your stress your stomach was beginning to twist in an agonizing way and migraines were becoming normal. One day, you couldn’t go in at all. You called in and practically begged for a day off. Of course you were to be given harsher exercises to make up for it but you were let off for the day. You could sob from the relief. You settle deeper into your bed and try to sleep off the pain that your body encapsulated. 

 However, a little under an hour later you heard a frantic knock at your door. You give an annoyed groan and throw off your covers with such force that they fell to the other side. You stomped to the front door of your apartment and you swung the door open with no regard to your bare arms. You were just so tired and sick that you just wanted to be left alone. You wanted to get this encounter over with and go back to bed. But your heart sank to your knees, your sharp tongue catching in your throat. Leon Kennedy was standing in front of your door and your brain was trying to process why the fuck he was here. 

“Leon?..W-what are you…?” You begin to say but stop completely at Leon’s expression. He looked intense, very contrasting to the worried look that was etched on his face when you opened the door.  “Y/N…” He said it in a way that sounded surprised yet heartbroken. You raise an eyebrow at him but when you follow his gaze you see what he noticed; your scars. You go to hide them but Leon’s calloused fingers enclosed around your wrist. “Why?” He wasn’t going to ask you the question of what this was. He knew but he just wanted to know why. 

You hide your eyes behind your hair, unable to look at him. “It doesn’t matter-” “Yes it fucking does!” He didn’t mean to sound so enraged but you were obviously lost in some sort of self depriving darkness and he wanted to know how or why so that he could fix it. But you didn’t want anything to be fixed. Everything was fine as it was, why couldn’t he see that? “Why are you here, Leon?” You ask and the expense of tiredness was evident in your heavy-lidded eyes and Leon’s heart clenched. Have you even been sleeping?

“You never miss a day of training. I wanted to make sure that you were alright.” He explained himself and you sigh. “Well, you see that I’m alright so-” You gesture for him to move back so that you could close the door but he kept his foot on the threshold. “We’re not done here.” He practically growled at you and your sanity was beginning to crack. “Leon, please. I do not have the energy for this.” You rub at your temples, your love for his caring nature now a jab in your side this time around.

He scoffed at you,”Right. And then the next time we talk about it you’ll come up with another excuse - no. We’re talking about this now.” He said as he tried to make his way in. However, you felt something deep within your mind snap and you slapped Leon. He reared back in shock, holding the side of his face that you struck. “I’M FINE, DAMNIT! WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THAT?!” You yelled, a familiar sensation welling up behind your eyes. “Leon please, just go.” You turn on your heel to hide your face, frantically wiping at your eyes to try and coax your body to stop and not betray your promise. 

“Damn it, it won’t stop.” You sniffled, your guard down. You hadn’t noticed that Leon had come up behind you, grabbing your waist as he slid into your apartment with you. “Leon! Let me go!” You struggle but then he sits criss crossed in front of your sofa. He places you in his lap, encaging you in the softest hug you had ever had the pleasure of receiving. “Oh.” You say in surprise from the gentleness and what Leon said next shocked you. “Cry.” You blink once and make a sound of confusion. “You’re not okay, [y/n]. And your body needs to get it out and you’re not letting it. Please. Cry.” He brought your head against his bicep, you subconsciously clinging to his shirt. 

“I don’t….I don’t…Need..to..” You try to reason with him but you feel the first few hot drops fall down your face. Your last line of defense was biting your lip but your whimpers were far too powerful. You let out a small sob which then transitioned into a symphony of wails. Your grip tightens on Leon and you shove your face into his shirt as you let out years of bottled up emotion. And he held you tightly, rubbing soft circles into your back as he threads his other hand through your hair. 

You cried for a little while, but sobs turned into sniffles which led to you passing out. Your body had finally let out everything and now just needed rest. Crystal drops lined your eyelashes as you slept in Leon’s arms, your reddened cheeks and nose leftover from your crying. 

Leon stayed sitting for a while, not wanting to disturb you. But once he felt that you were deep in sleep he rose in place and found your room. He laid you out on your bed, having pulled back the covers to tuck you in. After you were snug as a bug, he hesitated in place. He felt like the respectful thing would be to leave but he didn’t want to go. But, his mind was made when he felt your hand grip his. “Stay?” You ask, your voice a little heavy with strain. 

Leon smiled and nodded. “For as long as you want me to.” He says and you give a smile of your own. “I fear you may never have another day to yourself again then.” You lightly joke but hope that he would receive it in favor. “Is that a threat, [L/N]?” He teased back as he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. When your scars were in view, he would gently leave ghost kisses behind along the raised bumps and you felt yourself falling in love all over again. He was so scared that he would hurt you, but he still wanted to show that he was here for you. “Oh no, Mr. Kennedy. That’s a promise~”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #re4 leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x y/n

[the-whispers-of-death]

how would your ocs + ghost, soap, and price react to their partner being a age regressor (strictly in a sfw sense)

Okay, so for Ladder, this is just a life partner, since she's aromantic. Also, we'll just put you in the place of Nala's wife (not saying that this is female reader, we'll just change him to have a gender-neutral spouse).

Ghost- He's surprised but he does a lot of research about age regression and he talks in depth with you when you're not regressed about how he should go about taking care of you. It's a lot of new information for him, but if it makes you feel better, he'll deal with it. He learns about all of your favorite cartoons and your favorite stuffies. He understands regressing because it's due to trauma and he understands needing certain coping mechanisms.

Soap- He also does a lot of research and he's very much okay with you being an age regressor. He goes out and buys you a ton of stuffies if he feels like your stash of stuffed animals is lacking. He is very patient with you and just overall doesn't judge you.

Gaz- I'm a firm believer that Gaz only wants you to be happy and healthy, so he just accepts it. He talks to you about what he should expect when you're regressed. He's very heavy on being prepared. He cleans an entire room in his flat for where your stuffed animals should go, so there's a safe place for when you're regressed.

Price- You can't tell me that Price hasn't had partners who were age regressors before. He doesn't even blink an eye to you telling him about it. He asks you what age you regress to, asks what type of clothes you wear when regressed. He sets up an entire playroom full of child-safe toys for when you're regressed, buys a ton of children coloring books.

Stone- I'll be honest, you'd have to tell him what age regression is. He doesn't understand it really, because why would your mind want to revert back to being a kid? It's his own childhood trauma talking, but once you explain it, he accepts it and doesn't judge. He's very much confused on how he should be when you do regress, but he's trying his best.

Kali- I also believe Kali has had partners who were age regressors before, the man is the type to not judge. He very much goes through the same process Price does, asking you what your preferences are when regressed. He buys you a ton of onesies even if he doesn't have much of anything else you may need so that you're comfortable the first time you regress around him.

Sarabi- He too is confused about age regression, but he quickly understands it. He does a ton of research and asks you all sorts of questions. It's the most you've ever heard him speak before and he doesn't seem to shut up with the questions. He wants to know everything so he can best help you. After it all, he tells you that he just wants you to be happy.

Simba- Man doesn't know what he's doing, but he's trying. It's a lot of trial and error about what he's supposed to do when you regress, as he just goes off based on the research he does when you tell him. His heart is in it, so you can't really complain.

Nala- He's okay with it, has a rather neutral view on it. He doesn't care that you're an age regressor. And he already has stuffed animals and coloring books because of his daughters. It's just like taking care of his daughters. (Don't ask me why Simba isn't the same way despite having a son.)

Ladder- She does immaculate research on the topic, absolutely needing to do everything she can to best help you when regressed. She asks you about every little preference you can have and she's able to buy everything you need fairly quickly.

Heartthrob- He is shocked, so shocked to his core. It's because he mixed up ageplay with age regression, but he'll accept it once you correct him. He still kind of doesn't understand it, but he tries his best to be supportive. He baby-proofs his house again, every single room. He might've overdone it all.

Hellstorm- Is he supposed to care? He's more confused on why you thought he would take the revelation badly. I mean, you're dating him and he lowkey is apathetic to most things. That's not to say he won't support you, he just won't have much of a reaction to the news. Ironically, I see him baby-proofing his apartment like Heartthrob baby-proofs his house. It doesn't even matter if you don't regress to a very young age, his apartment is being baby-proofed.

#tyler's asks #tyler's inbox #tyler answers asks #answering asks #asks #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #task force 141 oc: stone #shadow company oc: kali #shadow company oc: sarabi #shadow company oc: simba #shadow company oc: nala #task force 141 oc: ladder #call of duty oc: heartthrob #call of duty oc: hellstorm #:)

[miguelswifey04]

Hiiii can I please request a an established relationship Miguel x reader where reader stress smokes and Miguel doesn’t know and reader hides the fact that they smoke cigs from the stress (reader is a scientist in the fic for spider society!!) and one day Miguel find out and he’s disappointed and pissed 😮😮 also it could ends in fluff or smut it’s all up to you😸🫶🏻

YES! this will end more in fluff but i could always make a version that ends in smut so let me know 💆🏽‍♀️!!

it was a starry night you had went up to sit on the rooftop of your apartment building to relax as per usual. you always had a little smoke sesh after a long strenuous day at the spider society in the labs running experiments all day long with miguel. whatever your boyfriend needed you did it and he expected nothing less from you and so it was the only way you could unwind to relax. to be by yourself. you became one with nature as you looked up at the stars shimmering in the night’s sky. you loved stargazing at night on the rooftop and being by yourself whether it was to smoke weed or light up a cig. you usually like to smoke weed since it was the “healthier” option but today you were just in the mood to smoke a cigarette. deep down you kind of regretted keeping this fact from miguel that you smoked. ironically enough you were a scientist obviously being well versed in biology, biochemistry, and the medical field but to be honest you were just a human being. you did not care if smoking would harm you or not as this was your outlet of becoming undone. smoking and going to a secluded area was your little getaway from it all.

unbeknownst to you, you did not hear the footsteps of you boyfriend miguel treaded quietly behind you. your back was facing him as you puffed out an air of smoke from your mouth while holding your knees to your chest and running a hand through you air. you felt him grip your rest and knock the cig out of your hold and that startled you. you were about to scream until you turned to face him. he was fuming to say the least. from all this time that he had known you--you hid the fact that you smoked from him. “what are you even smoking??” he said in disbelief as his grip on your wrist did not waver at all. miguel was big on health and you well-being. to say you smoke behind his back left him perplexed in a turmoil of emotions. you knew smoking was bad for your lungs but you pushed that fact deep in the crevices of your mind.

“look miguel—“ he had pulled you up to your feet as you know faced him completely. “why? you know smoking is bad for your health!!” his eyes squinted at you in anger and in disbelief, his red eyes were now glowing under the night sky. you felt ashamed because you were going to keep this away from him and you did not intend for him to find out about your smoking habits. “because it helps me relax!” you spatted out as you pulled your wrist away from him, “i am sorry but this is my only way of relieving stress..” he scoffed hearing you spew out those words. he shook his head taking offense as to what you said as his nostrils flared. “your only way to relax?? you are an adult you should be able to find better and healthier ways to relax.” Miguel’s voice boomed in authority while he looked into your eyes the way you shifted under his gaze. he knew you felt ashamed and hurt at the same time but how would anyone feel if they found out their partner had unhealthy coping mechanisms. he wanted you to be healthy. you were the only person he had left. you now realized why he acted the way he did. you can’t blame a man who is always so hard on himself and trying to keep everyone safe. you sighed as you hung your head low mustering up the right words to tell him. “miguel, I’m truly sorry i kept this away from you. i hope you understand how stressed i`ve been feeling lately.” your eyes were a bit glossy as you wanted to cry but you held back the tears from spilling. everyone and everything has been so hard on you as you and miguel were trying to fix the mess the spot had made. miguel admired your sincerity as he had calmed down a bit. he broke the distance between you as he embraced you in his arms. his arms held a protective hold on your body as he kissed into your hair and rubbing circles on your back.

“promise me you will quit. i`m sorry for raising my voice at you. i love you so much and i don’t want anything bad happening to you.” he said softly into your hair. he had felt you nod against him as you took his words to heart. “of course, and ill promise to find better ways to manage my stress. i love you more, miguel.” he slightly parted away from you as he hooked his fingers under your chin brinigng your face against his. his eyes had now returned to the dark pools of honey the ones that you have fallen in love with as he gently brushed his lips against yours. you felt so loved and happy that miguel was very understanding despite the fact he can be strict as he usually ruled with an iron hand. but for you, he was soft and kind. he let himself be vulnerable around him as he wanted you to feel the same. he dropped all his walls just for you letting him get to know his good side.

#spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #spider person #spidersona #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #ao3 works #smoker reader #scientist reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #🌱 lin writes

[mrspasser]

After the snap - chapter 1 - Sterek fanfic

Another fic from a while back that didn't get put on Tumblr. Well, it's here now. Please keep some tissues nearby, I'm told they're needed.

The werewolf across from her shifts in his seat. It's always a bit like pulling teeth with him, getting him to share his thoughts. At first, she was convinced he would give up on therapy. Truthfully, even after almost four years of it she still wonders every now and then if he would just stop showing up some day. Yet, he keeps coming to their weekly appointments. They're short, only thirty minutes, and sometimes no more than ten words come out of her client. However, she has learned to listen to what isn't being said, to read between the lines. It’s how she knows that getting therapy is a promise he made to someone important, before The Snap.

Find it on A03 and Wattpad

After the snap - Chapter 1

Melody Brooks looks over her schedule for the day. She has five clients today. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon and one in her evening slot. After that, she has a short session with her colleague, to evaluate their day. Or, to just unload all the worries her clients have bestowed upon her that day. It's not unusual for them to do it over a glass of Bordeaux, after all, they're just human. As are all of her clients too, even though some of them are a little more than human.

It's something the world learned after The Snap, or The Blip, the euphemisms used to describe the annihilation of half the people on the planet. Most churches stopped using the phrase "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" after that catastrophic day, as it was too painful for their congregation to hear. Melody tries to see the irony in that, believing that humor can be a healthy coping mechanism when deployed appropriately. It's one way to deal with it, as there are many ways, not all of them healthy or right. Still, each person has a right to deal with it in their own way, to act as they see fit. She is just there to help them along the way, if they want her to.

The people suffered from the loss of their loved ones, some to the point of being no longer able to deal with those losses. Suicide rates had gone up after that day, and now, almost five years later, they're still higher than before. Melody lost clients, some of them even after years of therapy. Others, she was able to help pick up their lives again, to live on with the memories. Everyone's progress is different, some are faster than others. And with some, the pace is glacial. 

"So, Derek, tell me. What's new this week?"

The werewolf across from her shifts in his seat. It's always a bit like pulling teeth with him, getting him to share his thoughts. At first, she was convinced he would give up on therapy. Truthfully, even after almost four years of it she still wonders every now and then if he would just stop showing up some day. Yet, he keeps coming to their weekly appointments. They're short, only thirty minutes, and sometimes no more than ten words come out of her client. However, she has learned to listen to what isn't being said, to read between the lines. It’s how she knows that getting therapy is a promise he made to someone important, before The Snap.

"The old fox burrow is in use again," he says, his gaze locked on the coffee table between them.

"Oh? Just one fox? Or a family?" Melody actually quite likes the information Derek Hale shares with her about the animal life in the Preserve that surrounds most of Beacon Hills. With his heightened senses the werewolf can discern more than others. It's his job too, he's been a park ranger for two years now. Getting the job was cause for celebration, to her surprise the man had even hugged her, momentarily overwhelmed by emotions.

"Two. I think there'll be a family soon." He smiles a little then, looking up from the table. The Snap had affected all living creatures, animals and man alike. To see nature finding its way again is important beyond measure.

"That's good news!" Melody acknowledges, before moving on to a new subject. "Did your shipment of timber come in yet?"

Derek nods. “Not all of it, but the large beams are there, so I can start on the framework.”

In the past two years, the werewolf had torn down the charred remains of his old family home in the Preserve bit by bit, meaning to build a new house in its place. Melody had once happened upon the old house when hiking the trails. She was not a native to Beacon Hills, but her friend was, and he had told her about the Hales and the tragedy of the fire that took the lives of most of the family. Of course there was more to that story than the average townspeople knew, as it all happened before people were privy to the existence of werewolves and other supernatural creatures. 

The alien invasion in New York proved that they were not alone in the universe. And after The Snap, people discovered mankind wasn’t alone on Earth either. Or rather, that mankind was more diverse than they’d all thought. And The Snap had affected everybody. Werewolves without pack, witches without their coven, forests that were suddenly bereft of their protecting druids, the list went on and on. One good thing that came out of The Snap was that mankind bonded together, reaching out to the people that remained. And, to some people’s surprise or even anger, that bond also extended to the people that were a little more than human. People were so happy to see their neighbour survive that they didn’t even care that their neighbour went furry each full moon. Melody’s parents, who had both miraculously survived that dreadful day, discovered that their neighbour from across the street was a druid. Her father just said it explained a lot about why Ted’s rose bushes were always the first to blossom. 

Derek is more at ease with the older man than with the younger, she knows they get together a couple of nights a week, drinking beer and playing cards, or watching a game. She has met the sheriff a couple of times and admires him strongly. He lost his son in The Snap, a boy in his early twenties, and most of his deputies. However, out of a strong sense of community, the sheriff kept on going. It is mainly thanks to him that the town pulled through the way they did. 

Besides a werewolf, Melody also has a witch as a client. William Johnson is the retired head of the local elementary school, always dressed in a sweater vest, with his dark, bald head shining like a bowling ball. He was one of the most positive people she’d ever met, but he’d lost his wife and almost his whole coven in The Snap, and that was more than enough to rattle a man.

Derek Hale also lost his people, his pack. For the second time, as it turned out. The man had experienced trauma upon trauma and he was most certainly not ready to rehash all that. So they work on the little things, on moving forward, one step at a time, to keep on living. He is not totally alone, that helps a little. There is another werewolf, an Alpha like him, and there is a human, the father of one of his lost packmates. The three of them have formed a new, makeshift pack, even though a pack usually has only one Alpha. Melody knows the new house will have rooms for them, even though they don’t live together now and maybe never will. 

After Derek has told her about his work on the house, she asks about his pack. “How’s Scott? Did you talk to him this week?”

Over the years Melody has learned that Stiles, the sheriff’s son, held an important place in Derek’s life. There were Boyd, Erica, Isaac and Jackson, all connected to him through the bond between Alpha and Beta. There was Scott, who was a rather reluctant member of Derek’s pack, which explained their rocky relationship in the present. And there was Stiles, not a werewolf, yet maybe the most loyal member of Derek’s pack nonetheless. Of the pack only Scott remained. At first there was Scott’s girlfriend too, but she had moved away with her family to Europe after The Snap and Derek had mentioned them breaking up not long after.

Derek scoffs quietly. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the other werewolf and they often have little spats because of it. At first, Derek was bottling everything up inside, afraid to lose yet another pack member. In time, he’s learned that he wouldn’t lose his friend just because they argued. It is slow learning, heavily influenced by past experiences. He had to learn that he was not the only one that needed the other, that his friend would never truly leave him, even though they might not speak for a couple of days because emotions ran high between them. 

“It was different… with Stiles,” Derek had once said in one of his rare moments of transparency. “We argued all the time, but he always stayed, even when I didn’t want him to.” A wistful smile had crossed his face. “He was always there.” For me , was left unsaid but still heard.

“Scott has been doing that speed-date thing again,” Derek answers after a short pause. “He wanted me to come too.”

“It could be nice, meeting new people?” Melody knows to tread lightly when it comes to this subject. There are names in Derek’s past, Kate or Jennifer for instance, that have done a lot of damage. And there is one name he still holds on to, long after his disappearance.

“I don’t need to sit down at a table to do that.” It sounds bitter and Melody knows the reason behind that. Derek is a handsome man, beautiful to most standards, even with the white hairs that have appeared in his short beard. It’s a face that makes people look twice, even though most days he doesn’t carry the most friendly expression. It’s a face that makes people approach him, has women - and some men - give him their number or outright proposition him. 

“People at a speed-date event tend to be looking for a relationship instead of a one night stand. It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Don’t care.” With that, Derek closes off again. Melody makes a soft sound of acknowledgement, knowing the werewolf can hear her. She’s not judging and Derek knows that by now. It’s another thing he’s learned. 

“It’s almost time,” she says, closing her notebook. “Will I see you next week?”

Derek nods, getting up from his chair. “I’ll be here.”

***

“Thanks, son,” Noah says as he takes the beer from Derek. “God knows I could use a cold one after the day I've had.” He has been out and about all day in the California summer. He’s grateful that Derek’s loft is nice and cool, partially thanks to the dark curtains in front of the large window. 

“Dinner’s ready in twenty,” the werewolf informs him, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from him. They always sit here when they’re in the loft; they have their own seats, their own routines. Derek’s kitchen table is a comfortable place to be. The table is handcrafted from wood from the Preserve, made by Derek himself. The chairs are a fairly recent addition to the loft; comfortable seats that invite you to sit in them for long nights filled with good food and interesting conversation. 

“Smells good already.” Noah takes a long drink from his beer, washing away the dust from the day. He’d spent most of the afternoon directing traffic, when a truck with live cattle went off the road. Only one of the cows was hurt bad enough that they had to put her down, the others came away with minor scratches and a good scare. At his age he wasn’t going to run after escaped cows anymore, he’d left that to his young deputies and had taken it upon himself to direct traffic around the area of the crash. He likes doing that, most of the people waving a hello at him when they move past him.

“I used one of Claudia’s recipes,” Derek says, drinking from his own beer.

“The beef casserole,” Noah nods, “I already thought it smelled familiar.” Between the two of them Derek is the best cook; Claudia’s recipe books are in good hands with him.

In the comfortable silence that follows Noah looks idly around the room. Over the years the loft has become more homey, with Derek adding furniture, carpets and drapes to the industrial open space. He knows a lot of it was Stiles' idea, his son urging his Alpha to make a more permanent home for himself. Stiles hasn't been around to see how much of his suggestions Derek has actually followed, with most of it happening after that disastrous day that cut down the world's population by half. Still, it warms Noah's heart to see what Derek did - and still does - to keep the memory of his pack, and Stiles foremost, alive. 

One of the walls is covered in photographs, most of them taken from the phones of the kids. Stiles is in a lot of those photos, often smiling. There is one picture that he loves best, one that was taken without Stiles knowing. If he remembers correctly, it was Erica who took it. She was responsible for the lion's share of the pictures on the wall, on account of her always taking pictures with her phone. In the photograph Stiles and Derek are sagged out on the sofa, sitting shoulder to shoulder and both with their socked feet up on the coffee table. Stiles is throwing up a piece of popcorn and Derek is tracking it through the air with his eyes, his mouth already partially opened to catch it. In the corner of the photograph is Lydia, her bare feet wedged underneath Stiles' thigh. She is watching the tv outside of the frame, snuggled comfortably underneath Jackson's arm - the only part of him that is visible in this particular photo. Noah loves how relaxed they all are in the picture, the way you can see how close they all are. 

Just one of the kids in that photo survived. The sofa is still here too, yet nobody sits on it anymore. Scott has urged Derek more than once to get rid of it, to get rid of the painful memories it contains. Derek refuses, a recurring point of strife between the two werewolves. 

***

The sofa is a silent memorial to those who were lost, sitting smack dab in the middle of the Alpha's living room. Stiles was sitting there when he turned to dust, visiting Derek during his break from college. Derek had just gotten up to make them coffee when it happened, his claws raking through dusty flakes a moment later. Noah had covered the desperate claw marks with a throw spread that had been in Stiles' dorm room, something that Derek allowed only because it smelled like Stiles.

Maybe it isn't healthy for Derek to have such a monument in his living room, to hold on to the sliver of hope that they would return some day; to think that there would be a day that Stiles would sit there again, throwing up popcorn for Derek to catch. Maybe it is unfair of Noah to like that Derek keeps the sofa untouched and waiting. Maybe. But Noah will never be the one to take it away.

"That's good. She sounds nice," Allison says in her soft voice. "How's Derek? And Noah?"

Allison smiles at him from the screen, her cheeks dimpling in that familiar way he loves. It used to ache to see her, but not anymore. They are in a different place now, one where they can be friends and look back fondly upon the time they had together. 

Scott tells her about the date he had with the girl he met at the speed dating event the week before. They'd gone out for coffee, to get to know each other.  "I was the first werewolf she ever met, but she seems cool with it. I think I'm gonna see her again."

"The sheriff's been well. Still not thinking about retirement though." Scott grimaces a little. Noah isn't getting any younger, but he doesn't want to hear of stopping. "Derek is… well, Derek." He shrugs. "We've got most of the framework up for the new house. You can really start to see how it'll be when it's finished. You should visit us when the house is done, we'll have a housewarming party or something!"

“What?” Scott is a little confused. Just a moment ago Allison was talking about the representation of supernatural entities in the government of the European Union, and now he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “What are you on about, Ally?”

"You know what, I think I will!" Allison smiles jovially and continues by telling what she and her father have been up to in Europe. They have ties with what remains of The Avengers, the supernatural branch of it at least. Scott doesn't really know much about it. On the one hand Allison doesn't tell him much - or isn't allowed to tell. And on the other hand it's something that Scott doesn't want anything to do with. What happened in The Blip was horrible. He lost his mother, his best friend and many other friends and family members. But it also brought good things. He feels as if the world is closer knit together than before. He doesn't have to hide his supernatural side anymore. So he tries to look forward, to see the good things. There is nothing to be gained from getting stuck in the past.

“Things are happening, Scott. I can’t tell you about it, hell, I don’t even know much about it myself, but there is something!”

“Thanos! There might be a way to defeat Thanos!”

Scott frowns. “I thought he was gone? Like, gone off to some far away planet where nobody can find him?” It had taken him some time, but eventually he’d accepted that Thanos was in a whole other league than their usual monster of the week . There were other people to deal with him; real life superheroes, who had gadgets and weapons and who worked with the U.S. government. Sure, he wanted to kick Thanos’ ass just as much as every other human being on this planet. But he couldn’t, being a werewolf did not make him a match for the Titan, far from it. And besides, he wouldn’t even know where his ass was to begin to kick it.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there might be a way!”

***

It happened on a monday, May 21 in 2018. The date is engraved in Derek’s memory, like the day his family’s house burned down or the day Laura died. It’s the day he lost his family for the second time. 

It happens on a normal weekday in October, 2023. Derek is sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying a cup of tea after dinner. He’s reading an old novel, one from the James Bond series that his father used to love. Derek has seen most of the movies, the newer ones at least, and he rather enjoys the novels too. 

The sound from the street reaches him first. The building his loft is in used to be abandoned and run down, but it was the first project he undertook when his life settled somewhat. Now, all the apartments are lived in and the street sees some light traffic. It’s a quiet street, yet outside there’s the sound of screeching tires, followed by confused shouts. Derek rushes towards the window, looking down at the dark street. There’s a car shoved halfway up the sidewalk, the driver’s door open, with the driver shouting at a person who is standing in the middle of the street. The person, a man dressed in stained overalls, is looking around himself in a dazed way. He clearly doesn’t know what’s happening.

Derek is about to dismiss him as a drunk, when there’s a small noise behind him. Something like the wind blowing through the leaves, only there is no wind and there are no leaves. 

“D… Derek?”

His heart falls through his stomach and his knees buckle in the same moment. Derek crashes to the floor, his eyes locked on the phantom vision in the middle of his living room. There, on the sofa, dressed in the grey University of Berkeley hoodie he was wearing when he disappeared, is Stiles.

The young man makes a noise of distress when Derek hits the floor and rushes over to him. The hands that grab his shoulders feel real, solid. 

Change washes over him involuntarily, his fangs lengthening, his nails sharpening and his vision washing red. But the man at his side is not deterred. “Derek? What’s happening? Derek?”

He grabs the grey hoodie with both hands, his claws piercing the fabric. “You’re not real,” he wrings out of his closed up throat. “You, you can’t be.”

Yet everything is telling him the boy is real. His hands are firm and warm. His breath is coming rapidly, his heart beating even faster. The hands close around his wrists, holding them but not pulling them away. “Derek? What is this?”

The werewolf sags against the boy, burying his face against his chest. Stiles barely manages to stay upright, catching him in a tangle of limbs. “You’re here,” Derek says breathlessly, “you’re here, you’re here.”

“I am,” Stiles answers, voice wobbling slightly. He wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders, holding him against him. “I’m here.”

Derek can’t say how long they are sitting there like that. At some point Stiles pokes and prods them into a different position, complaining about pins and needles in his leg, but they keep holding each other. He has his face buried in Stiles’ neck, breathing his scent in over and over, to keep reminding himself that apparently this is real. Stiles is really here. 

When his phone rings in his pocket, he knows it’s Noah. It’s the only reason he picks up, the only reason he takes one hand off Stiles to take his phone out of his pocket. 

“Derek?” The sheriff sounds like the way Derek feels. “Is he…?”

“Yes,” Derek croaks. “He is.”

“At the loft?”

“Yes.” It’s all Derek can get out.

“I’m coming.”

Derek puts the phone away. From this close, Stiles was able to hear the conversation even without werewolf hearing. He doesn’t need to repeat it for him. Couldn’t, even if he tried. He doesn’t have the voice for it.

Stiles doesn’t ask for it either. Doesn’t ask whether that was his father on the phone. He just lets Derek burrow back against him, keeping him as close as Derek does him. 

“Huh,” Stiles says after a moment, his fingers scratching idly in the short hairs on Derek’s nape. “You put up curtains.”

Chapter 2

#long post #chaptered fanfic #sterek #sterek fanfic #marvel au #derek hale #stiles stilinski #Thanos snapped his fingers #Derek got left behind #happy ending #tear jerker #ilse writes fanfiction #derek x stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction

[freddief4gb34r]

How would the Sawyers comfort someone who’s been in a really bad depressive episode?

ooooh fun one (good to read over when it hits me)

« how the sawyers would comfort someone in a depressive episode (platonic) »

all platonic, no pairings, hurt/comfort, lowercase intended

bubba

more likely to sort of understand? i mean, they don’t get it, but she’s definitely the most empathetic.

would offer to do your makeup or show you fun clothes and masks

however, if he’s working, you’re kinda shit out of luck for any comfort.

you’d have to wait until they were less busy for any sort of sympathy.

because she can’t really speak and also has a bit of a hard time understanding social cues (down syndrome hc goin crazyyy) it might be a while before she picks up on it

i mean eventually he will, and he’ll try to help in the best way they can

but they’d likely be more of a pillow kinda guy for comfort

definitely takes more consideration into how she communicates (if thats the issue)

if its a living person, depending on how close you are, he might kill them, but i doubt it since he lacks bloodlust

however, like i mentioned, they’re a very pillow-person, just there if you need to sit down, hug someone, get it off your chest, see how you feel

if you’re at a point where you’re not showering or taking care of yourself, they’d start leaving your stuff closer (toothbrush, hair brush, expired ibuprofen, etc.)

but otherwise a bit clueless

but would definitely take you to collect flowers and pet the chickens if you’re in need of extra seratonin

nubbins

he’d be the SLOWEST to notice

like im so serious about that

it takes this man a WEEK to realize

“OHHHHHHHHH” when he does

very upfront and straightforward about figuring out and what he thinks

starts out like an annoying little brother about it

“don’t kill yourself lol” type shit

he’d try to be sympathetic for a bit but honestly doesn’t know what to do

he’d just take funny or pretty photos and come offer them to you

“yo do you want these”

he thinks that if it makes him happy it’ll make you happy so expect at least one dead animal, an oddly stalker-esc photo of you, and a single bone

he shows care through gifts that he enjoys and assumes other people will enjoy

but he’d offer to let you walk down roads with him for the sunlight or collect roadkill with him (sucks if ur squeamish)

if you stopped taking care of yourself, he wouldn’t be able to tell

he would just think that you’re like him

which only upsets him a little, because even if his head is in the clouds mostly, he can tell that it’s not very good to have his hygiene/coping habits???

he couldn’t tell you why it’s bad but he knows it’s not good

chop top/bobby

notices a bit quicker than nubbins

not by much, but by enough

also an annoying little shit about it, but sort of knows when to stop

he himself struggles with issues like this

but for the love of all you hold dear do NOT LET HIM ADVISE YOU ON COPING MECHANISMS

this man copes with alcohol, cocaine, weed, and drunk driving

and only one of those are okay

he’d offer to go out drinking with you or drop some acid, please do not do that

it’d be fine to go drinking ONCE but try not to develop his habits

otherwise he’d play a bunch of music in your room and info-dump about bands until you inevitably tell him you need to sleep

but he’d take his music with him so unless you’re okay with that he’d sleep on the floor

starfish position and all

he’s not sure what else to do honestly

but he’s there if you need to talk

he will not respond though (this also applies to nubbins)

if you stopped taking care of yourself, he’d start leaving old (stolen) bleach by your bed because he thinks it smells good

in his brain, item smells good -> person will start smelling good

please don’t allow this, but thank him for the sentiment

drayton

fastest to notice

he himself has them, but powers through them (not healthy dont do this)

because he was suppressed throughout his entire life and his heart was squashed

however, it still beats

he’d try to ease up on the insults and how he tells you to get to work, tries to be less loud and aggressive

but he will not take chores away, sorry, shits gotta get done in this house

he’d feel a bit of pity, but he’d never voice it openly

he’d just look at you very sadly (sad cat moment)

if you stopped caring for yourself, the most he’d do is offer you some food and a hose

why a hose? shower

he kind of knows that it’s important to stay clean when someone’s like this (he does this)

also when he’s using the hose on you, the twins join to run around like it’s a sprinkler, sometimes bubba if they have time

but that’s also a kind of forceful “get in the fucking water” (sorry if u got rabies L)

he’d tell bobby to get you something

too chickenshit to do it himself

also definitely lets you rant about whatever’s bothering you or just how you’re feeling, but if you get redundant and/or repetitive he will go on his old man shit

“back in my day—“

try to leave when that starts

but he’s definitely the most understanding

and he can only offer one thing that might help quickly

a blanket and a hot meal

might say something about it being a hassle when he’s hosing you down though (it’s not he just likes to complain)

also might mumble that you’re slacking but thats on impulse, he knows you’re not trying to

can u tell who my favorite is yet/hj

my apologies if i didn’t cover something, feel free to let me know and i’ll try to adjust accordingly

#the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw #texas chainsaw 2 #the texas chainsaw massacre 2 #tcm #tcm 2 #tcm drayton #tcm nubbins #tcm choptop #tcm bubba #leatherface #the hitchhiker #chop top sawyer #choptop sawyer #nubbins sawyer #nubbins #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer

[chiptrillino]

Chewing that part time pirate zuko... And also the fact that I'm obsessed with yuyan archer Mai. So here's the deal: after the war mai got to do whatever the fuck she wanted because she's one of the fire lord's best friends, who's going to stop her? So she goes to finally learn from the yuyan archers, doesn't take long bc 1. Zuko is surrounded by prodigies and 2. Have you SEEN mai's aim? She has the yuyan technique down in a week

The fire nation advisors are extremely worried about the fire lord at sea, and zuko sees mai, recently fully realized yuyan archer, and goes "she'll be my body guard so you people shut the fuck up". Sometimes mai takes her brother on the trips just because she can

(side note, i think the ship is metal solely so toph can be comfortably on board and still be able to navigate her way around)

Also, i forgot in my last ask, i was going to say that yue absolutely knows who zuko is, not just as fire lord, but as sokka's friend bc like... She's always trying to see where she can help the gaang, she saw when zuko joined and everything since, so when she sees zuko chasing pirates it's not just "oh I'm so bored look at that human trouble" but rather "oh I'm so bored oh wait i can help sokka's friend"

I'm undecided in whether aang is splitting hairs so to say about yue casually coming to the human world, or if he's out there acting as a yue lawyer trying to convince other great spirits to not give her grief but also not follow along on her idea bc... That would get messy very fast

Also. I love azula, i love that she's a menace, zuko leaves her in charge when he leaves and the fire nation advisors and ministers and the like are terrified of that. Azula loves it. She may also have implied she'll have zuko killed at sea (for the laughs and to see if anyone is not scared enough of that possibility. It's useful to know who wouldn't miss zuko to check if they're also actively treasonous). The gaang hears of this and they're extremely uncomfortable by the idea bc they're not sure if azula is being serious each time

honestly, just the threat of "azula is in charge" and she is chuckling in the bg. is like the biggest threat zuko could make. And all ambassadors, diplomat and council man are suddenly at their bestest behavior in a sense of " no fire lord please don't leave us we will do what ever you want"

its pointless though. zuko needs his brake and well. yeha he has mai and tom tom and just who ever wants to come along comes with. beating up criminals is a healthy and productive coping mechanism with stress i think.

it's fun seeing you so exited with this au anon, hahah I agree with every addition you bless me with, hahah

I guess aang is splitting hair depending on with who he argues. if it is with humans, he just has a dead tired look in his eyes and just exhausted sighs out, "do i look like i control the moon?" like truly humans are so stupid? You think the avatar can tell a greater spirit anything?

on the other hand, when dealing with La, other greater spirits or Yue himself. he is like... trying to reason with them, which is just... very difficult and nerve wrecking because it's not like spirits do listen. they stay above him, and just want harmony and balance. but yue is for her convenience disturbing the balance. its like a partner therapy. and aang mediating between them. La thought the new yue would be different. and yue wasn't aware what she all signed up with. new compromises were created. aang: good thing i was able to convince yue and la to wait for your sacrifice sokka! sokka: .... my sacri-WHAT?!?!?

#atla #chip!ask #sorry for getting more into spirits #thats my current brainroat point of focus... #sokka you may can run but one day i will turn you into LA! #its your desteny!

[badbihk]

What Goes Around... Comes Around

Toxic jack x ex gf reader

part 1 part 2

it had been a year and four months since jack lost you and he hadn’t had a moment of peace since.

486 days of pain.

6 months of sobriety and intensive therapy. jack knew he had his own problems and narcissistic ways. he had convinced himself that if he put in the work, then you would find your way back to him. that’s how manifestation works right? as much as he learned about healthy coping mechanisms and unlearning toxic behaviors; he still found himself on your boyfriends instagram.

liked by yourinstagram and 142 others

yourboyfriendusername 8 months strong 💪🏾💕 @yourinstragram

yourinstagram 💕

wtf? thats all he has to say? jack couldn’t help but laugh. he knew you weren’t as happy as you pretended to be. two months ago, in the middle of the night, you had randomly unblocked him on everything . neither of you had said a word, but jack knew what that meant. you had gave him the opening and now all he needed to do was pick the perfect time to make his move. there was no way in hell he put in all this work to not get his girl back. he didn’t care who you were dating, hell you could be married and you would still be his girl. he went off of Instagram and opened the messages between y’all. should he text you? he really didn’t want to start shit, but at the same time he didn’t give a fuck if he started shit between you and your man.

you sighed as you turned off your phone. were you gonna meet him tonight? of course not. he did you so dirty for so long. what would you even say? what is there to even say? you say your phone down and walked into the empty living room. your boyfriend was out of town visiting family, leaving you with nothing to do all weekend. you truly liked your boyfriend as a person, but as a partner ? not so much. he was thoughtful and loyal but that’s about all you could say. besides that he was messy, annoying, clingy, and as jack said corny. everything he did have you the ick. you felt as if you were dating a child in a grown man’s body. he couldn’t even make you happy; let alone make you cum. that was never a problem with jack. wtf? why am i even thinking of jack. fuck him. you sat down on the couch and turned on the tv half paying attention. maybe you should just go talk to jack. you never really got closure right? but you would be just as bad as jack was to you if you went over there. if it was going to be on your mind so hard maybe you should just go over there? no. absolutely not.

jack stared at the last message he sent.

read at 5:51

damn. so that’s how you was gonna do him? he shot his shot and you blocked the fuck out of it. now you were just gonna ignore him. fuck that. he didn’t care if he had to pull up at your house and sit outside for 3 days straight. he couldn’t do this anymore he wanted to see you. NEEDED to see you. he felt as though he had played his role. yes he constantly stalked all your social media and called you 30 times in one day, but that was months ago. ever since that day he saw you in person, he made the conscious decision to leave you alone. absence makes the heart grow fonder right? he sat there for 45 minutes deep in thought; debating if he should just come see you. he finally just gave up. after all this over thinking he definitely needed a nap.

jack had been asleep for a little over an hour before he was woken up by his phone going off. he rolled over and answered without checking who was calling.

“hello” he said husky voice while sitting up against his headboard.

“why the fuck would you tell me to come over if you aren’t going to answer the door” you say as you ring the doorbell yet again. “i’ve been knocking for ten minutes. You wanted me to come over and i came but im finna leave bc i feel like you are playing”. were you mad? no, but you were irritated. you put your ass on the line to come over here the least he could do is open the door.

“ y/n I swear to god i was asleep and didn’t hear you my bad im coming now.” jack says practically hopping out of bed and racing to open the door.

as he opens the door, he feels his heart skip a beat. you looked beautiful. he felt like he was seeing you for the first time again.

“ are you gonna stare at me or let me in?” you question

“my bad” he says opening the door wider for you and stepping out of the way.

you weren’t trying to be rude but it was like once you saw his face all the anger came back. you truly loved this man and he took advantage of that. why tf did you even come here?

jack could sense your attitude from a mile away. you had been here for 20 minutes and hadn’t said a word. he sat next to you on the couch as he watched you scroll through tik tok aimlessly.

“ look im gonna go. i don’t know why i came here. i thought we would talk about everything or something but im good on this.” you say while standing up and reaching for your purse.

“wait y/n please don’t leave we can talk if you want to i just didn’t want to bring up everything because i didn’t want to trigger you. i figured if you wanted to talk about everything that’s happened you would bring it up”

you sighed and sat back down facing him. “you go first because i’m pretty sure you understand how i feel based on how i left your ass”

damn. that what probably deserved jack thought to himself. “ look i fucked up. you did everything in your power to keep me happy. you stuck around even when you shouldn’t have, even when i didn’t appreciate you. i hate that it had to take me loosing you for me to finally understand. real love is hard to find and you gave that to me. as cliche as it sounds it was never you because it was always me. i let my own insecurities and demons take over and control me. on top of that i was always drunk and high trying to ignore the battle that was going on in my head. you didn’t deserve anything i put you through and i am truly sorry. i don’t care if you don’t forgive me, i need you to know how sorry i am. i will be spending the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, even if that means just being your friend and supporting you from afar. i made my bed and now I have to lie in it. i do love you and always have but i couldn’t be the man you needed, and i have spent months trying to change that.” jack said while tearing up.

“jack i-”

“ im not trying to be rude but i don’t need you to say anything i just wanted you to hear that so maybe it could give you some peace of mind. i want you happy with or without me.”

you don’t know what took over you, but before you could even think about what was happening your lips were on his and you were on top of him. the kiss was so passionate and needy. it was like you both needed the other to breathe. how could you have gone this long without him? his hands had a tight grip on your ass pulling you as close to him as possible as you straddled him. it felt as if you could finally see him for the first time in almost 6 years. this was the jack you had fallen in love with, and this was the jack that brought out the best in you. it was like you were in a trance until you realized what you were doing. you quickly jerked back, breaking the kiss.

“we can’t do t-this jack” you say standing up and taking a few steps away from him. “i can’t hurt him like this”

“okay I understand” jack says while remaining seated and adjusting himself through his pants “why did you say it like that” he questions

“like what?”

“like you are trying to convince yourself that you don’t want this”

you sighed. he was right you did want this but what type of person would that make you?

“just say the word y/n and ill be on my knees for you right now giving you exactly what you want” he says as he gets up and takes a step toward you, causing you to take a step back into the wall.

you feel his thumb against your clit rubbing circles through your leggings. of course you weren’t wearing underwear today. you could feel your wetness soaking through the thin fabric.

“do you want me to stop?” he questions as he applies more pressure causing your knees to buckle.

“no please don’t stop” you moan out while digging your nails into his shoulder trying to steady yourself.

jack drops to his knees in front of you and pulls your leggings down to your ankles. your hands instantly goes to his hair gripping his curls. he runs his finger across your soaked slit and puts the same finger in his mouth, sucking on it.

“you always taste so good” he says before putting two fingers into you causing you to let out an airy moan. his thumb finds its way to your clit as his fingers work in sync pumping in and out of you as his thumb is rubbing delicate circles on your throbbing clit. with his other arm he lifts your leg up and onto his shoulder giving him better access to you. he replaces his thumb with his mouth causing you to dig your nails into his shoulder and moan out his name. it doesn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm building. it had been so long since you actually had an orgasm and it felt as if you were going to explode. jack adds in another finger as his mouth is still latched on to you.

“jac-ck im close” you moan out as you throw your head back against the wall. you legs began shaking uncontrollably but jack placed his free hand firmly below your ass forcing you to stay up and take it. you squeezed your eyes shut as you cum all over his face leaving his beard soaked. any other time you would be embarrassed about the fact it only took you five minutes to cum, but right now you couldn’t care less.

jack stood up giving you a kiss and allowing you to taste yourself all on his lips. he then went in the other room to clean himself off before coming over to do the same to you. he tosses the towel in the hamper before helping you over to the couch.

holy fuck you. you couldn’t believe you had seriously just cheated on your boyfriend but honestly you didn’t regret it one bit.

#jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurbs #jack harlow instagram au #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow social media au

[sadsongsandwaltzes]

Hey! I’ve been following your blog for a while now and I’ve noticed we kinda have the same struggles in life. From one Christian woman to another, how do you deal with loneliness and waiting on God? I have a few things going on in my life - a new job I’m having a hard time adjusting to (I was fired for standing up for my convictions from my first job of nine years two months ago) and and there’s a man at church who was showing a mutual interest until something mysterious happened to him in February (he won’t talk to anyone about it and everyone from church said he’s been acting strange ever since). My mom wants me to move on but but I don’t want to give up on him quite yet. But she gave me a lecture and honestly, she just made me feel like more of a loser after church on Sunday. I need to give it all to God but I don’t know how! Like I can tell Him, but it hasn’t come from my heart, ya know? And I’ve been feeling so depressed and seeing my younger sister begin a relationship (something I’ve deeply desired my whole life) doesn’t help the sting any. So much loneliness and depression and I don’t know how to deal with it. Do you have any biblical advice on what to do? I’m sorry this is so long

Firstly, good on you for standing by what you believe, regarding your job. It’s very easy to buckle in those situations. So while it’s led to a more difficult situation, you did the right thing. Just wanted to give you props.

Now. As far as your main question. I can commiserate. But I am not the picture of someone who is necessarily “stable” and has it all figured out. A few years ago I might’ve tried to craft some sort of paragraph of Bible verses that you and I both know that you already know. But not now. So perhaps I’ll try honest commiseration instead. There are times my loneliness and heartache drives me to the Word and sincere meditation. There are other times it drives me to the bottle. I’m not someone who has it all together and has healthy coping mechanisms all the time. And I really don’t have an understanding as to how I get through it other than the Lord keeps me and pulls me through. Nothing, not even my own stupidity and sin, will separate me from Christ because Christ has me. So my ability to cope with these things ebbs and flows. The only constant is Christ. I can be drunk off my butt or stewing in anger at the Lord, and He’s still there. Lord, forgive me.

What I have very tangibly learned through that though is the necessity of prayer and the Word as a shelter. If you’re stuck in a cold, rainy storm, Christ is the shelter. He blocks the rain and the wind and He’ll get you through the storm alive. But He does not take the storm away. And you’re still gonna feel the cold.

And I think accepting the fact that there are times or aspects of your life where you’re gonna feel the cold has made it easier to actually trust God. Because I’m not expecting Him to remove the cold anymore. Just block what’s gonna kill me. And I know He will do that. Because He has my whole life.

I also think I’ve lived enough life and — particularly with relationships — have experienced enough times where I thought I knew what I wanted or something made so much sense to me at the time that I couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t work out. But then the Lord eventually showed me why. Helped me to understand. So at this point, when I’m in a situation like that, I’m still gonna mope and complain because I’m incredibly emotional and therefore my lows are extremely low, but I intellectually know the Lord will bring me through. Because He has time and time again.

Nowhere in the Bible does it promise that our lives on this earth will be easy. In fact, it guarantees trials. But the Lord also promises He is always with us. So take God’s promises for exactly what they are: nothing more, nothing less. Because God is not a liar.

I don’t know why God always let’s such heartache or stress happen. But I suppose if you need to learn patience, the only way you can do that is by being forced to be patient. If you need to learn to trust the Lord, the only way to say that is to be forced to trust the Lord. And a loss of a job and problems in your love life are two situations that will definitely make you feel as if you have nothing left but to simply trust and be patient in the Lord. The Lord is working on you. Everything happens for a reason.

If you want a piece of practical advice about loneliness that I’ve taken to since the last time I had a meltdown last summer over yet another disappointing guy: don’t pass up opportunity. Never. Not just relationally either. Since that happened, I’ve agreed to so many outings or trips or events I never would’ve had I not been so desperate for anything to do but stare at a wall alone and drink booze. Even the smallest things matter. I’ve never once regretted taking an opportunity — even if it didn’t go quite right lol — but I have always regretted passing it up. And I’ve made so many good memories and learned so many skills because of it. But even relationally, you have to put yourself out there. I know we all want God to just drop someone on our doorstep to fill the void or to fix the broken relationships in our lives, but that’s not how it works. Example: a few days ago I ran into a guy from high school at the store. He looked familiar but I couldn’t place who he was right away, so I kinda blew him off. But I finally placed who he was. And after stewing on it, I messaged him last night. He still hasn’t responded and I don’t know if he will or not. And this is not something I ever would’ve done before. But the only potential is for gain. Either he responds and I, at the very least, can maybe gain a new friend. Or he doesn’t… but he’s not someone I had in my life currently anyways so it’s not like I’m losing anything. It’s really scary putting yourself out there, but you have to. And even if the opportunities that arise aren’t exactly in the track you would’ve made for yourself… just take them anyways. It may be 1000000000x better in the long run than what you’re sitting and wishing will happen. And I’m not entirely sure if all of this is because I’ve gotten more mature, or if this is the foolish rambling of a lady with nothing else to lose. But I think it’s right.

If you want to beat loneliness, the only way to do it is to put yourself in situations where you can’t be lonely. And it’s terrifying. But that’s just the fact of the matter.

If you want simply biblical advice, I’ll leave you with: seek shelter in the Lord. And keep your mind on things above. Circling that back to the practical advice: stewing on the things of this earth and what *we* would wish would happen if *we* were god is part of what prevents us from truly living life and trusting the Lord. Think eternally.

I don’t know if this is what you needed to hear, but I really hope it is. Especially because I know I’m veering off the “here’s some feel good Bible verses and a heart emoji” response that most people give. Which is probably the response you were seeking. But I think this response is more honest and practical. And hopefully you can make something of it.

Trust the Lord. Seek shelter in the Lord. Remember the shelter doesn’t remove the storm. And through the storm, be taking the opportunities the Lord gives you. Because ultimately it’s His will, not yours.

You are in my prayers. And I know your pain.

#personal