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#but like....there is a Process to getting either of these where someone would have to see me first
kirain · 3 days
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I don't get people who say Gale just whines about Mystra all the time. Like do they not realize WHY? Do they not realize there's a perfectly understandable reason for it!?!
Yeah, I don't get it either. Every character "whines" about someone. Astarion whines about Cazador, especially during the second and third act. Lae'zel whines about pleasing Vlaakith, especially during the Crèche mission. Hell, she'll even betray you if you fail her persuasion checks. Shadowheart whines about Shar and snaps at you if you criticize her goddesses of darkness. Then, if you prove she's being used, she falls into a deep depression and still whines about Shar. Wyll whines about Mizora and she's a constant presence in his life, to the point that she'll park her abusive ass directly in your camp just to torment him. If you romance him, she sees everything. She watches you 👀. He has no privacy. I think Karlach might be the only companion who doesn't constantly whine about someone, but she does complain about her engine a lot.
But these aren't criticisms. They're absolutely, 100% justified. Astarion has every right to whine. Lae'zel has every right to whine. They all have every right to whine. I just want to emphasise the hypocrisy when it comes to how players judge Gale. Every character has a dark past looming over them, our chatty wizard included. If you get mad at him, it's only fair to keep the same energy for all the other companions, because they're in the exact same situation. They're trapped. They're victims. They're suffering. Of course it's going to be a major talking point, especially when there's a person/goddesses/devil responsible for that pain.
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Honestly, I think the only people who get annoyed when Gale talks about Mystra are would-be romancers who get turned off when he doesn't immediately throw himself at their Tav's feet. Have you seen the somewhat viral video where a streamer drools over him, but goes full jealous mode when she sees him conjuring the image of Mystra in his palm? It's funny, but she acted like they were already a couple ... but at that point in the game Gale didn't even know she was interested! I'm certainly no expert, but isn't that how relationships work? It's pretty hard to find someone who doesn't have an ex, and he only talks about Mystra in a positive light before you express interest. He's insecure and he feels lost without her, but if you romance him it makes him realise how messed up their "relationship" was in the first place. It's a healing process, not a competition. He never compares you to Mystra in any way other than to say that you're better, and that's only if you ask.
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Gale is also arguably the most romantic character out of the bunch, so I don't know why people get so upset. Mystra, much like Shar, Cazador, Mizora, etc., is a constant negative in Gale's life and the reason he's dying. She could remove the orb with ease but she won't, so of course he's going to "whine" about her. He feels guilty at first, then he feels used and angry, and by the end you can either convince him to become her Chosen again (which is entirely on you, though you remain his priority) or you can convince him to reject Mystra and leave the crown in the sea. The orb remains lodged in his chest, because Mystra's too petty to remove it, but it becomes completely inert. Either way, he's happy and he devotes himself entirely to you, not Mystra.
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blorbocedes · 2 days
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it’s crazy that redbull use to love chopping drivers’ heads off mid season because they got the ick, but now they are just unwilling to sacrifice anyone, on top of promising lawson a seat and having another driver on the come up who’s a championship contender in f2. they don’t have solid plans for yuki, but keep extending his contracts with the sister team, they’re letting dr hoard the seat with his nasty asscheeks. checo seems to have his place secured too, but it will probably bite them in the future, because this gap between him and max will be punishing as others have been catching up
if you want 'my source: I made it up' take on it all it goes like this:
the redbull power struggle from earlier this year hasn't ended. it's merely at an impasse. redbull's thai owners stopped horner from getting fired, and max credibly threatening to leave and tying his contract to helmut's means CH can't get the old man fired either. and remember, helmut used to be in charge of who gets the seat when deitrich was alive and still holds considerable influence
if DR performed like yuki is this year, you would've absolutely seen him in the redbull car by now because he was brought in as Horner's pet project. they would happily mid season chop Checo's neck. then lawson who proved himself in the car could fill his seat in vcarb
you'll see conflicting narratives where redbull/DR sources like medland will say yuki's not in contention for redbull, yuki's shopping for other seats and he doesn't even want the seat
and then yuki himself saying he's happy to be in vcarb until he gets a shot at redbull, and helmut saying he is being looked at.
since yuki would be helmut's pick, horner doesn't want to consider him and thus lose out on the driver selection process. that's why you'll also hear so much "oh yuki goes wherever Honda will take him" yuki also has never been allowed to test in a redbull, ever. so whenever there's narratives of put DR in the car he's the fastest in the sim -- yuki hasn't ever been allowed to test for that car!!! and they've had everyone in their junior programme including f3 drivers test it!!!
so checo. the car is worse this year, and hes showing for it by being 5th in the standings rn. If redbull loses the constructors, esp with Ferrari catching up, it will be because of checo. but checo brings in the most sponsors after max and lewis, so the math horner has to justify to the board is he brings in more $ than losing first in the constructors will give us (around 20 mil). the redbull also being harder to drive means you don't want to risk an entirely new driver getting to grips with it when you have someone for the past few years who has reliably driven it where you want (checo was 2nd in standings last year).
checo getting the 1 year extension means once again he'll have to prove his worth for the team, and will be expendable after 2025. 2026 is when new regulations kick in! that changes the whole game... max allowing the merc flirtation to happen this year and redbull (horner) saying they're looking at fernando and carlos and whoever else is in chess when both sides make forward pawn moves. max is showing he's not married to redbull until 28, esp if the engines aren't good, and redbull going fine! we can look at other drivers too~ (not in their own junior programme tho 💀).
that's why they're keeping the status quo for 2025 and trying to keep EVERY driver available, cause then 2026 with new regs and Ford becomes the game changer.
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teslaluvszombies · 1 day
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NOT MY FATHER ; enemies to lovers. (reader is shane’s daughter) — part one .
(intended lowercase)
notes: au where the apocalypse happened when he was older plus all the events, so shane's murder attempt happened when he 17 (for plot reasons)
warnings: carl is sort of a dick at first, mentions of attempted murder, bittersweet ending (part two will be very happy I promise)
description: carl and you had been inseparable before the apocalypse but that quickly changed the night your father lost it.
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everyone longed for the life they were forced to leave behind when the apocalypse started, some loathed it, it depended on the situation. you, however, were in the vast majority of people who missed it, who wanted back what they once had, who they once had.
it had been several years since the outbreak started and you had come to terms with the fact that this was just how things were now. your life before the apocalypse was simple, you lived with your father, shane, he was an amazing dad despite the hours he worked. when your father was at work you would either be at school or staying at lori's, lori had agreed to watch over you along with her son, carl. carl was your best friend, you did everything together; read comics, play video games, watch tv — whatever kept the two of you entertained.
at least, that's how it had been.
ever since shane had tried to kill rick in a sick attempt to regain lori's heart carl had shown a strong distaste for you. it made you angry. you wondered how the boy you'd grown up with could hate you over your father's actions, you weren't the one who executed them so why?
when it had happened you assumed carl's coldness would eventually wear off, but it never did, it had been years and he still expressed the same disdain for you. you could tell he wished you were someone else, wished you weren't the spawn of such evil, but it just wasn't possible.
rick never treated you any different, he knew it wasn't your fault, so why didn't carl?
you learned to stop questioning him so much or trying to make amends, it didn't make any difference so you quit wasting your time. that seemed to anger him more, you didn't understand why considering it was his request to you.
you thought being in alexandria would help lessen the tension between you two or at least make it more avoidable, but it was to no avail, he seemed to seek you out just to spare you a scoff or scowl. you hated it, if he wanted to scorn your being then so be it, but couldn't he refrain from making it so obvious?
eventually, rick had torn him a new one after he had crossed a line and he began to leave you alone.
that was until it was deemed smart to send the two of you on a run together. alone.
it had started off fine, silent but fine. normally, silence in a situation like yours would be unbearable, but the possibility of what could be said if either of you spoke was much more unpleasant, and you were certain you were right when he did speak.
you were crouched down, shoveling supplies into a duffle bag while he was standing guard in case any walkers tried to sneak up on you two when he decided to speak, “do you even care about what he did?”
you felt yourself flinch in shock, not expecting him to speak, your lips pressing into a thin line when you processed his question.
“of course I do.”
“then why don't you act like it?”
you couldn't resist the scoff that urged to escape your lips at the accusation, your fingers tightening around the bag they held. “how am I supposed to act? I have apologized a hundred times, cried, tried to make amends— it's never gonna be enough, is it?”
“he tried to kill my father—”
“yeah, carl, he did. shane did. shane tried to kill your father, not me, when are you gonna get that?” you spat, zipping the duffel bag and throwing it over your shoulder. you could hear his hesitation to speak again and used it to your advantage, allowing yourself to quickly exit the store and make it back to the car before he did.
sometimes you couldn't believe the audacity the boy had, did you care? of course you cared, was he out of his mind?
the shuffling of feet dragged you out of your thoughts, you could see carl making his way in the direction of the car and decided it would be a good time to throw the supplies in the back — there wasn't much in the store to loot but it was better than some of your other runs. you closed the door of the car and made your way around to the passenger side, climbing in.
the ride back was just as silent as the ride there, minus the tapping of carl's fingers on the wheel. you could tell he was thinking about something, you were sure that it was related to the conversation you two had just moments ago. you hoped that maybe he finally realized you weren't to blame for the actions of your father, but then again, the chance of that was very slim; you had been trying to convince him for years, one petty argument wasn't gonna change anything.
you didn't waste any time returning to your house the second you arrived back, too overwhelmed with fury to care about much else. you trudged up your stairs and threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in the mattress, allowing yourself to find refuge in the soft material. tears found their way from your eyes into the cloth, absorbing it along with all your sorrows — you weren't one for self pity but you desperately wanted answers, wanted forgiveness for crimes you hadn't committed, and most importantly wanted your best friend back. was there really nothing that could be done to mend what your father had broken? you didn't want to blame him but you did, you resented him for what he did and what he caused. everyday for the past 3 years you sat and pondered in a puddle of ‘what if’s — what if your dad hadn't lost it? what if he was successful? what if carl never blamed you? still, nothing changed the present, you were still left without carl by your side.
you hear a sigh in your doorway, jolting up to see maggie standing there with crossed arms,
“I told them it wasn't a good idea to send you guys together.”
you couldn't help but laugh as she approached you, taking a seat next to you.
“you're probably the only smart one out of them.”
“what happened?”
maggie and you were never really close, because, frankly, you weren't close with anyone anymore, but she seemed to care and notice things and you appreciated that; you trusted her. “he thinks it's my fault, he doesn't say it but I can tell. he thinks I don't care— it's like he's convinced I'm heartless.”
“with the way you sit in here crying about it, I doubt you're heartless, he just needs someone to be angry at.”
you nod, a soft sight leaving your lips, “yeah, I just wish it wasn't me.”
a slight frown was all she gave in response, resting her hand on your shoulder for a moment in a brief attempt of comfort before getting up to exit your room. you listened to her footsteps become distant as she descended down the stairs, throwing yourself back against the mattress once she was no longer within earshot.
you guessed she was right, maybe he did just need someone to be mad at and you just happened to be the perfect candidate, how unlucky.
you had no desire to leave your room after the events of today and opted for a nap to cure your exhaustion and hopefully your desolation.
you didn't bother changing into night clothes and instead focused on untying your combat boots, you tossed them to the side and crawled under the comforter, relishing in the comforting feeling. it didn't take long for you to become a victim to sleep, quickly drifting off and being met with a blank mind.
sleep was the ultimate painkiller, that was something you stood by, but with the apocalypse it was just about as hard to come by as ibuprofen. when you did get the privilege of sleeping you took it as a delicacy, you used it to let your mind stray away from carl and instead become blank or filled with dreams. nightmares were rare for you, but the select few times you did have them were nothing major so you never had to worry about them like others did, which you suppose made you lucky.
you weren't sure what time it was when you were awakened by the sound of knocking on your window.
your hand immediately found its way to the knife you had on your nightstand, you kept a tight grip on it as you approached your window as quietly as you could. you pulled the curtains aside to get a view of who caused the noise, you felt your body go rigid at the sight, the knife in your hand falling to the floor and clattering on the hardwood.
carl grimes. carl grimes sat crouched in front of your window.
once you came down from your shock enough to move, you opened the window, moving aside so he could climb in. he landed on your floor with a soft thud, immediately standing to his full height and stretching, his gaze lingering on you as he did so.
“why are you here?” the words came out soft and unthreatening unlike you had intended, your voice wavering slightly. he moved away from you take a seat on your bed, waiting for you to take the spot next to him,
“I wanna talk.”
you got the hint and sat down next to him, staring at your lap, avoiding making eye contact with him. “okay.”
“you were right— today when we were out, you were right. you didn't do anything, shane did. I was just angry, I wanted to be mad at shane, to take it out on him, but he was gone so I took it out on you, his daughter. when it happened it all felt the same and I never let it go, I never even allowed myself to think about it. I saw you and saw shane and that's all it took I guess.”
“I'm not my father, carl.” your broken voice confirmed, the tears from earlier resurfacing and streaming down your cheeks. you've waited years for this conversation and when you finally get the opportunity to have it every last emotion managed to find its way to the surface.
“I know, I see that now. I'm sorry.”
“why wouldn't you just talk to me? I could've told you that a while ago, I shouldn't have had to wait 3 years for you to finally come to your senses and realize that my father is the one who went crazy, not me. I shouldn't have had to mourn a friendship that could've been so much more if you would've just noticed that.” your tear filled eyes rose to look at him, your stare asking him every question you've asked yourself over the years, showing him all the confusion, the anger, the sadness.
“I couldn't. I just couldn't.”
“that's not enough, carl! I want answers, I deserve answers!”
“because I was in love with you! I was in love with you and I couldn't be in love with you then!”
you froze, your eyes widening in shock, “…what?”
“I was in love with you and I knew you were in love with me too, I couldn't handle it. I was mad at you for something you didn't even do and I couldn't bear being around you knowing all I could see was him and what he did while I still loved you.”
you sobbed. you couldn't do much more than that. he was right, you had been in love with him and you still were, he knew why you were so upset — he knew that your longing was for more than a lost friendship. what had happened wasn't fair, not just to you, but to him too; you finally understood why he acted the way he did and now you couldn't bring yourself to be angry with him, all you could feel was despair. you felt him wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer to him and you couldn't help but lean into him while continuing to cry.
“I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner.”
— a/n : part two will be out soon, I promise it will have a happy ending. thank you for reading! you can send me requests if you want.
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blindedguilt · 1 month
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//Was thinking about posting this on my alt, but since I figure I've spoken about this frequently enough on this blog and it's THE dedicated Leonard Space™️... //I'm throwing up and crying thinking about how leonard had never gotten to experience romantic or sexual attraction (or will ever GET to experience those things, unrequited or not) without complete dread and self-blame and guilt and how that must have been growing up with the hope and expectations of "Being in love must be so nice, I hope I'll be able feel that one day" and not ONLY having that hope gradually dwindle as he grew into the "expected marriageable age" watching those around him go on with their lives and attain those things in a way that seems so natural but is so foreign to him and the absolute sadness of the point the notion of "attraction" and "falling in love" turned to complete and abject horror and disgust when he realises that this is what his mind has decided is "Normal" for him, and all possibilities and aspirations he may have had of a child, teen, young adult, etc. up to that point of even the bare minimum is now a complete impossibility. //how it fully sets in he'll never experience love. never find his own family or someone to be interested in and care about in such a way or even feel attraction without that weight attached.... like idc, actual relationships are one thing but if ANYTHING you should at least be able to know the joy of falling in love if even for a SECOND without any strings (Disgust, guilt, self-hate, etc.) attached!!!! guys!!!!!!! //HE'S WAY TOO KIND AND GENTLE AND HANDSOME AND CARING AND HUMBLE AND A GENTLEMAN AND HANDSOME AND HIS VOICE IS WAY TOO SEXY FOR THIS SHIT, HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS!!!!! LET HIM LOVE!!!!!!! HE'S SHOWN TO HAVE SO MUCH TO GIVE IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS (Parental, familial, just being an empathetic person towards his "enemies" in general) AND YET HE DIES HAVING NEVER KNOWN IT...... WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HIM........... ouuugughhh.........
#||ooc||#||relevant||#{/having feelings about leonard again someone kiss him or beat him up with a lead pipe rlly quickly how do we process this.....}#{/there's just something about leonards SPECIFIC iteration of the 'beyond help' and 'guy who doesn't deserve this gets the worst of it'}#{/tropes that REALLY hurts in how he deserves it the LEAST and is so UTTERLY beyond hope ur like 'idek how i can make this better'}#{/the more i think about it the more insane 1.3 is to me in the idea that in its own completely fucked up degenerate way}#{/leonard may have been the only one of that group to have a POSITIVE bend to his character and how he carries himself}#{/where arioch; caim; furiae; etc. are either made more negative or are the same but with different context}#{/and the reason for that is is that is takes away the strongest thing that makes leonard so compelling and GUT-WRENCHING as a character:}#{/that caring demeanour is still TECHNICALLY there on the surface; but beneath that this leonard just let himself go COMPLETELY}#{/by becoming what would be the absolute NIGHTMARE of DOD1 Leonard and tossing the morals connected with his guilt out the window}#{/he's 'fixed' himself mentally; and no longer is completely miserable and wracked with guilt (perhaps grief!! but thats another thing)}#{/BECAUSE HE'S CONVINCED HIMSELF HE HAS NOTHING TO BE GUILTY ABOUT ANYMORE}#{/i guess to sum it up nicely}#{/the only way for leonard; who's tried his best to love and care for SO many people; to be happy with himself}#{/is to hurt other people. specifically the most vulnerable he fought more than anything to protect}#{/otherwise; his only solution to be happy with himself - or at least; no longer suffering - is to DIE}#{/just..... oooooogh........ *curls up into a little ball and explodes*}#{/i miss him.... i wanna write him again..... i want to put him into a situation he can feel at peace and Normal....}
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muu-kun · 1 year
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#; ♡ ; okay to reblog#muu has admittedly been describing is self perceived melancholy and isolation regarding it#as being comparable to the circle drawn around Sadness in Inside Out due to others finding his emotions to be Too Much in capacity#and that as such he has thus been persistently trying to make himself very very small in spaces#so that maybe perhaps someone would soon be able to reside in the circle with him just until he gets to where he feels he is supposed to be#muu has also stated on numerous actions that while he is adamant about self healing he is not necessarily of preference#to not have the assistance of peers and their feedback and he tends he show it most predominantly in asking them to hear Everything#about himself in the form of the big box because one he wants assurances at the end of it all but also because he Has to be explaining#his processes of thought and general state of where he is now to people so that they may go Oh so that why you do the neurotic shit you do#but it really be hard out here when you don't know how to self advocate for a persistently emotionally present romantic partner#you don't really have any friends and you are either God awful at making new ones or you don't want to try for reasons of either#feeling scorned past close friends of yours have left time and time again OR#because you don't know what version of yourself is the Real one or the Good one or the Authentic one so you avoid socializing#until you can properly answer that dilemma but in turn you've left yourself with 1 person to seek out and talk to#but with that comes the existential dread of either a this person is also going to leave me or#b I am in fact so totally codependent on them that it isn't fair to be my sole research for assistance that I ought to fend for myself#but what do you even do to fend for yourself when you don't even know how to Advocate for yourself??#you devise a plan to shrink down and provide no indication to those around you that you are struggling with anything#that perhaps shriveling yourself down like that will allow for people to find you tolerable enough to be around#and that their presences will patch up every interpersonal wound in your system until eventually what you are faking has come true#; ♡ ; inner thoughts
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thethingything · 3 months
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we have a dentist appointment tomorrow and on the plus side we're not really anxious about the appointment itself because the dentist was so nice last time and actually took our medical trauma into account.
unfortunately though we do have to have anaesthetic which makes us feel like shit for at least the rest of the day, and no matter how considerate the dentist is, having a medical professional touch us at all does still trigger certain trauma and then I end up having a bunch of panic attacks at some point within the next few days and it's a really shit time. I really don't wanna have to deal with that and the concept of it is making me nauseous
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#<- kinda#medical trauma#(this turned into a long rant about medical trauma and consent so here's your warning for that if you read the tags)#I didn't like medical professionals touching me anyway but ever since the stuff last April when we went to the hospital#it's been a way bigger issue and I end up being an absolute wreck for a while because of it#I cannot begin to express how much I do not want a medical professional touching me at all but especially not in my mouth#and any other situation where someone shoves their fingers in your mouth when you don't want them to would be considered really violating#but because it's for medical reasons and we have to put up with it if we actually want treatment nobody around us seems to see it like that#same goes for various other medical procedures where it's like if a stranger touched me like that when I really didn't want them to#in any other situation that would be assault but because it's a medical setting I'm expected to just be okay with it???#idk I probably haven't explained any of this right but I just don't like that people treat medical stuff as a special scenario#that's exempt from causing the same distress as any other scenario where someone touches you when you don't want them to#even though our brain is processing them the same way and we can't magically make that not happen#I know technically with medical procedures you (usually?) consent#but it's like... the choice is either consent to it or have your health keep getting worse#and once again in any other situation if your choices were to either consent or experience physical harm#that wouldn't really be considered consent and would be really distressing#I'm literally only consenting out of fear of what happens if I don't which... technically isn't consent but what choice do I have#idk this stuff is probably an issue specifically because of our trauma#but even still I would like to be taken seriously when I say I feel violated after medical procedures
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quaranmine · 5 months
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Get an mri?
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LMAO i assume this is about my hand but yeah 1) i'm not too worried about it and 2) i absolutely cannot just go get an MRI skdjksjfkfjkg
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Not to be one of those people who complains but why are the two library books I reserved 3 weeks ago (as the first person in the queue mind you. And both of them are popular books with multiple copies available) still not ready
#like okay admittedly i think one of them might have been claimed by a book club. based on what i’m seeing (10 copies all currently out and#all due back on the same day) i think that’s the only likely possibility#the book club is able to take literally tons of books out of the library and get much longer loans than a regular civilian like myself could#so i think that must be what it is. but there are still 4 other copies out there?? where are they#one was due back in fucking june of last year and is apparently nowhere to be found. what is going on#either someone didn’t put it through the machine right or has just stolen the book or something#what i don’t get is why no one’s taken it out of the system yet? when i volunteered there i used to get given the dead stock list at least#once a month and have to hunt down any books that were on the list. it was books that hadn’t been taken out or seen in 6 months plus#and if i couldn’t find it anywhere i had to mark it off the list and someone else would look and if they also couldn’t find it it got taken#out of the system. like. it’d be assumed lost; stolen or damaged & get written off essentially#so what is going on??#and then the other book has been ‘in transit’ for literally fucking two weeks. why#this is a big county i’ll give them that. but it doesn’t take two weeks to get anywhere#i stupidly reserved another book today but i’m not expecting to see it for like 2 months at least at this rate#was i the only person in [redacted] library system who ever processed book requests???? should i start volunteering again#and process my own request lmao. and then leave again#that sounds harsh. i did like it there but there was this fucking guy who i know meant well but i felt extremely uncomfortable around him#he never did anything and i don’t think he ever would have but i just felt suuuper uncomfortable around him. and then i felt bad for feeling#uncomfortable. and then covid happened and then i moved cities and just. left.#tl;dr i just want my books man. i want them before i lose all enthusiasm about reading them#personal
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ohara-n-brown · 6 months
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As a late diagnosed autist I will say one of the most damaging but transformative experiences I've ever had was being misdiagnosed with BPD.
Everyday my heart goes out to people with BPD.
The amount of stigma and silencing they face is astonishing and sickening.
I took DBT for years. Therapists use to turn me away because of my diagnosis.
I would be having full blown autistic meltdowns, crying for help literally - but because I was labeled as BPD ANY time I cried I was treated as manipulative and unstable.
As if the only reason I could be crying was if I was out to trick someone.
95% of the books out there with Borderline in the title are named shit like 'How to get away from a person with Borderline', 'How to stop walking on eggshells (with a person who has BPD)'
I was never allowed to feel true pain or panic or need.
That was 'attention seeking behavior', not me asking for help when a disability was literally inhibiting my ability to process emotions.
There were dozens of times where I had a full meltdown and was either threatened with institutionalization or told I was doing it for attention.
My failing relationships weren't due to a communication issue, or the inability to read social cues. No, because I was labeled borderline, my unstable relationships were my fault. Me beggong nuerotypicals to just be honest and blunt with what they meant was me pestering them for validation.
Borderline patients can't win.
And the funny thing is - I asked my therapist about autism. I told her I thought I was on the spectrum.
BPD is WILDLY misdiagnosed with those with autism and I had many clear signs.
Instead - she told me 'If you were autistic we wouldn't be able to have this conversation'. She made me go through a list of autistic traits made clearly for children, citing how I didn't fit each one.
And then she told me that me identifying with the autism community was the BPD making me search for identity to be accepted - and that I wasn't autistic, just desperate to fit in somewhere.
I didn't get diagnosed for another ten years. For ten years I avoided the autism community - feeling as if I were just a broken person who wanted to steal from people who 'really needed it'.
Because of my providers - I began to doubt my identity MORE, not less.
Ten years of thinking I was borderline and being emotionally neglected and demonized by a system meant to help me.
To this day, I still don't trust neurotypicals. Not fully.
I know I'm not borderline now - but my heart aches for them. Not for the usual stuff. But for the stigma. And the asshole doctors. And the dismissiveness and threatening and the idea of institutionalization hanging over their head.
I love Borderline people. I always will. I'm not Borderline but if you are I love you and I'm sorry.
You're not a bad person. You're not a therapists worst nightmare, you are a human with valid feelings and fears.
Borderline people I'm sorry.
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a-b-riddle · 1 month
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
4K notes · View notes
mayasaura · 30 days
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It really dawned on me watching episode 17, just how important this sequence of events is to Kabru and Laios' relationship, and how. Well. That's for a different post. I want to keep this one free of spoilers. (Certified Safe For Anime Only™)(There are spoilers for episode 17, tho. Obviously.)
Kabru's main concern has been, at least in part, revealed. He wants to figure out if Laios is capable of defeating the dungeon, and, if so, if Laios can be trusted with the power that might confer. The answer to his first question is simple. Yes. If anyone can defeat the dungeon, it's Laios.
The second question is where things get interesting. Can Laios be trusted with power?
In the aftermath of Laios' first fight with Toshiro, Kabru learns that while Laios has no particular respect for the law or conventional wisdom, he does have the humility to consider that his judgment might be flawed if he encounters conflict with someone he respects.
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That is the face of a man taking notes, and I think he's making a cautious mark in Laios' favor. Laios doesn't really understand Toshiro's opinion, but he's listening.
Then, in the fight with the Falin-Dragon chimera, Kabru voices dissent—disgust, even—with Laios and Marcille's priorities.
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You can practically see the Dragon Age style approval rating drop. Kabru disapproves. Minus fifteen hearts. If it had ended like this, I think Kabru would have lost all interest in Laios. Someone who would sacrifice a dozen lives out of sentiment can't be trusted.
Laios' response, and the way it builds on Kabru's earlier observation, is crucial.
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He listened. And even better, he didn't listen blindly. He applied critical thought to Kabru's argument. What Kabru hears from him isn't just "I'm sorry, you were right," but also, "I understand and respect your position and priorities, and here's a very good argument for why killing what I still consider to be my sister is not in our best interest."
He processed Kabru's criticism and came to his own conclusions, and he did it fast. Not only that, but he's right. Kabru hadn't considered the potential consequences of killing the chimera.
Laios proved in this one exchange that he 1) isn't blinded by either his pride or his prejudice, 2) has the strength of character to not just fall back and surrender to someone else's judgment when he's uncertain, and 3) is smart enough to tactically outhink Kabru.
This is why Kabru is so invested in Laios liking him that he forces himself to eat the harpy omlette. This is why Kabru takes Laios' hand and makes sure he knows he wants to see him again. He doesn't understand Laios, and he still has strong reservations about him. Laios' interest in monsters scares him. But Laios has proved to Kabru that he might be capable of being the person Kabru needs him to be.
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Top Ten Pictures Of The Moment He Won You Over (Taken Just Before Disaster).
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bitternanami · 3 months
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something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.
having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.
im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.
long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!
it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);
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[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.
"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.
"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]
like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...
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[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]
or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.
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[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"
kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."
"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]
when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.
we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.
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[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]
(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)
even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.
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[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"
he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]
but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.
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[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"
senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]
pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good
what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.
one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein
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[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."
she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]
and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,
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[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"
she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."
laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,
"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."
marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative
and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]
she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.
once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.
because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.
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[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.
"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says
marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"
senshi smiles, proud. /end id]
^^^ i want to put this image on my wall
when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)
i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'
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heartfullofleeches · 3 months
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[18+]
Introducing - Shy Perv/Horny Alien Darling who's happy to be kidnapped by cute little humans if it means they'll get their dick touched.
Bound and chained up in their kidnappers home - Darling has but one question as their obsessive stalker declares their undying love and how darling will never, ever leave their side again-
"s.... since we're dating now....may - can I touch your breasts?"
Alien Darling from a planet where sleeping with another person for pleasure is looked down upon and intimacy is not seen as common . There's hardly any need for it in terms of reproduction either as technology has mostly taken over in the entire process. Needless to say, Darling is blown away when they learn about earth and some of its cultures. They want to go on dates, and hold hands with someone cute, and maybe even kiss them, and- and.... There's just so much for them to do.
Darling ends up on earth one way or another - working their way up to a far enough life as a cashier. Approaching humans in a romantic/sexual tense is a bit difficult when you only have experience from the films you've seen in the short span of time you've known about them. Darling remains alone and finds fulfilment elsewhere on the internet and with human toys they purchase for "research" - How they'd love to be able to use what they've learned with a cute human, but no person in their right mind would want an awkward outcast like them...
Right?
When Darling finally released they're being followed - they come to the conclusion that it has to be some strange human mating ritual. Yan likely discovers the various blogs Darling has made detailing their journey they probably think nobody will read or believe. Regardless of whether darling truly is from other world - it's clear to see how depraved they are. Yan sees that for themselves when they leave a pair of their underwear in darling's bed and instead of questioning where they came from Darling skips an entire day of work just to drool all over them. Darling is too busy fondling Yan's chest to notice anything wrong - like how their boss hasn't called to check up on them in a while.
Oh....That's right - they don't have a phone anymore. Their lover said they didn't need it anymore.... Plus, their boss was found dead in a lake a few weeks ago.
Huh.....How could they forget something like that?
"Would you like me to take my shirt off while you touch me, love?"
"Yes, please!"
Darling feels the need to ask before every kiss. It's cute - until they're drilling their tongue(s) down Yan's throat everytime since they claim Darling can do whatever they desire to them. It's still impossible for them to believe a cute human would want them so badly. Captivity is a small prize to pay to finally act out the fantasies they've had since they've learned of earth and its people.
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yuri-is-online · 11 months
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Out With the Old (Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle x Yuu)
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"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."
"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"
"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."
notes: they/them used for Yuu, some questionable behavior from Floyd and Jade because who else? This is meant to be crack. Second part can be found here (x)
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Riddle- "THAT'S LITERALLY ILLEGAL???"
He is too focused on hyperventilating because it sounds like you just admitted to a crime in front of him to even think about offering you one of his sweaters. Trey and Cater have to break it down for him unpaid therapist style that no, you are not wearing stolen property (probably), borrowing clothes is just something people in relationships often do. He then further needs it explained that no, you are not still in a relationship and since you want to get rid of the shirt it sounds like things ended poorly. His friends want to try and suggest he should give you an article of his clothing to replace the offending one but he's so focused on getting you something that matches dress code that they decide to quit while they're ahead. Literally.
Trey- "You know you can always ask us if you need help, right?"
Vil's right about Trey's tendency to fuss and spoil people being a bit of a flaw; he's in tune enough with his emotions to know that he should not, for his own sake, give you one of his old sweatshirts without being honest about why he wants you to wear it. But he can't exactly deny his instincts when it comes to the people he cares about. You're cold and uncomfortable, what sort of guy would he be if he just left you all alone? Just please don't brush this off with a comment about how much of a big brother or mother hen he is; it is already going to be pure torture trying to look at you in his things in a Queen of Hearts honoring way. He doesn't need an added complex on top of it.
Cater- "Oh honey no."
Cater doesn't like keeping stuff his exes gave him either, but luckily for him he's never been in a position where that's literally only the stuff he had on him. Speaking of things, he buys a bunch of clothes off magicam he barley has time to take the tags off of before the trend goes stale. You guys should totally ditch what you were planning to do today and have a little fashion show in his room. It'll be cute and he can get a bunch of cammable shots! Just ignore the pop music club hoodie he refuses to take back because it looks "so much cuter on you." <3
Ace- "That's extremely lame prefect."
He isn't blind; you're cute and poor. Anyone would jump at the chance to let you steal a hoodie, besides Ace isn't insecure enough to be super jealous of someone you clearly hate. He knows you well enough to tell when you are silently wishing death on someone, it's all in the vocal tone. But damn if this new bit of information doesn't make things tricky. He already makes a big fuss about not needing to focus on dating right now, and with that iconic sweatshirt of yours technically belonging to an ex it's not like he can just slide you one of his without making it super obvious what he's doing. Looks like you're just going to have to take some extra teasing for a bit prefect, it's his preferred method of cope.
Deuce- "You've been here for how long and the Headmage hasn't given you any clothes?!?!"
Deuce is a good egg whose primary concern is almost always your well being. He tends to act before his common sense and emotions can catch up with his thought process, and that's exactly what happens here. The concept of you dating someone is just so... foreign to him. Not because he thinks your undesirable! It's just that you guys are always hanging out, you not being around makes him feel a bit funny inside, and not in a good way. He doesn't mention that to his mom when he texts her asking if she has any of his old clothes laying around, but she definitely knows what's on his mind. Why else would she have sent his old delinquent jacket?
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Leona- "Well that explains why it smells like shit."
Let the record show that Leona is in fact, lying to you. Your clothes don't smell like anything other than you and maybe some of the musk floating around Ramshackle Dorm, but that doesn't stop you from pulling the fabric and taking a good sniff. To Leona, all this really suggests is that you've been over the person long enough that you don't care about keeping their scent around anymore. Sure, a tiny thought does worm it's ugly way into his inferiority complex that "oh they liked someone else" but his equally large ego immediately slams the emphasis on "liked" and starts thinking about how to get his scent on you. He doesn't really own too many jackets like the one you're wearing, but he does have some nice silk scarfs he could wrap you up in. Much classier than whatever trash you had previously been going out with.
Ruggie- "You wanna toss it my way then?"
Clothes are clothes are clothes, you don't see Ruggie acting like his uniform is still Leona's just because that's who originally bought it. If you are really bothered by the memories of your ex, he's willing to listen and make fun of them, assuming that will make you feel better, but this won't make him jealous. That emotion is reserved for when you share food with other people. He is dead serious about taking the sweatshirt if you don't want it, as far as he's concerned that shirt belongs to you, and he wouldn't mind having an excuse to blend your wardrobes a little bit. It would make you even closer to being a real member of his pack.
Jack- "You can just take mine."
Jack's strong sense of justice and firm moral code are definitely his only motivations for offering you one of his sweatshirts. Forcing a student to wear clothes they find uncomfortable and associate with negative memories just because they didn't have the foresight to pack something they did like for a school they didn't know they would be attending is beyond unfair. That's what he tells himself anyway, and it's not like he isn't upset on your behalf, but it's plain as day to anyone that he wants to prove that you can rely on him; he's not like that other person, he doesn't mind being alone together with you.
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Azul- "If your finances really are in such dire straights you know I could-"
Revealing personal information in Azul's presence is asking to be offered a deal. Sure that little complaint might have been insignificant to you, but for Azul? He's having a full blown Sherlock style breakdown going on in his head trying to decide what his angle is. 1) The prefect has dated in the past and doesn't look on that experience favorably. Does this prevent them from dating again? Needs further analysis. 2) Giving articles of clothing is an acceptable form of human courtship, even if used. Or is it especially if used? 3) Can he convince you to burn this if he gets you a replacement or is that too petty? 4) More importantly does this mean you have a type? And how does he press for that information without appearing desperate?
Jade- "Oh? Well that sounds extremely annoying."
Jade Leech is first and foremost a messy bitch who lives for other people's misery. Sure, he is reasonably certain he's in love with you at this point, but that doesn't matter. You have a story that's filled with second hand embarrassment and a bone to pick besides he is nothing if not an enthusiastic audience. The thought of you wearing clothes that he owns wasn't something he would have thought of himself, merfolk don't typically wear them so dating customs that involve them are a bit foreign to him. He would much rather just bite you. Or give you some jewelry. both he wants to do both
Floyd- "PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME"
The instant you say that sweatshirt is from an ex he is taking off whatever shirt he is currently wearing and trying to tug off yours. Yes, even if it is his basketball jersey, and yes even if he just got back from practice. Isn't the scent supposed to be the point? He knows you miss him when he's gone, and he can get you something nicer out of his closet later. Just remember to tell everyone, even and especially if they don't ask, who gave it to you. Floyd's... nice? Enough? To not immediately burn your sweatshirt but it's up for debate if that's because he's actually being nice or if he just wants a trophy.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months
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CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)
Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282
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The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes
Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers
<3<3<3<3<3<3
Your new boss seemed stressed. 
Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.
You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 
Right over his head. 
He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 
He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 
“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”
“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”
God, but you wanted to be.
He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”
His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”
“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”
Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.
You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.
“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.
The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.
You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.
He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.
Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.
You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.
You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 
You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.
As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”
You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”
He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”
“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”
“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”
You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.
“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.
A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”
“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”
You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”
He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”
You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.
You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”
You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 
After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.
Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 
There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 
Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.
“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”
This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”
“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.
You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.
“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”
One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”
“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.
His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.
“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”
“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?
He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.
“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.
Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.
“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.
With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 
“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 
“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.
“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“
Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 
It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.
“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”
He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”
“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“
“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”
“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”
The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.
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rae-writes · 9 months
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when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then
The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.
"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."
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Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"
Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"
Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."
Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."
Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."
Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."
Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."
Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"
Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."
Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."
Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"
bonus :
Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."
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