#she's furious and ill..not a good combo

[specialistpinky]

「 ✦ vodka cranberry ✦ 」

18+ ONLY MDNI

previous episode

summary: fucked up in the club—broke as shit and d!ckmatized.

wc: 4.3k

baby, my room is the g-spot call me mr. flintstone, i can make yo bed rock

—BEDROCK by YOUNG MONEY, LLOYD

i wouldn't consider myself unintelligent more than i consider myself naïve or gullible. i'm loyal to a fault. i can't help being that way, especially with people that mark themselves in my life. i know Kiki would beat my ass if she found out where i was right now.

but i can't get enough of him.

i know what we have is toxic. i know this man has broken my heart more than a teen heartthrob on TV. i know damn well this man has no intention of marrying me or being the least bit civil and domestic.

but i can't get enough of him.

he's garbage boyfriend material and a dumpster fire of a man but an excellent, steadfast, and generous lover. in other words, he be beating my shit the fuck in like i stole somethin'. he be fucking me like a shitty honda civic driver on the interstate: hard and furious. he also eat my shit from the back like a pack of fucking skittles, tasting every color of the rainbow.

really, he's lucky i like it rough, otherwise, his teeth would be decorating the fucking sidewalk by now.

but as i said, i cannot get enough of him.

"ooh, fuck, baby, right there!"

so, here i am, laying in this man's rickety bed covered in a singular sheet, my legs wide open, my knees damn near touching my ears and my thighs jiggling with each thrust he drills into me like a construction worker. he holding my throat with one humongous ass hand while the other holds his body upright. the room is spinning and my body sore, but my pussy is fucking throbbing and fluttering with his fat ass dick in me.

"yeah, baby, you like this dick all in your stomach, huh?" he grunts in my ear, panting and groaning like a rutting dog. i whimper, arching my back and rolling my hips to meet his strokes. surely that gives enough indication as to how much i like it.

he moves from my throat to my chin and forces me to look straight at him. i instinctively close my eyes knowing he don't like it when i look at him while we fuck. something about it reminds him of his first wife too much.

not to speak ill of the dead, but sometimes, i feel like i'm competing with her even after her life has ceased. i try not to give it too much thought as he fucks the life outta me—no pun intended.

i try opening my eyes back up, but he's fucking too good for me to even try, so i let them roll back instead. my stomach coils, the heat of my loins raising my temperature and bringing me closer to climax.

i moan with each thrust that connects our pelvises, my voice going up several octaves. i'm sure his neighbors can hear by now, and they probably think i'm dying, but i don't give a fuck. this man is fucking my brains to mush, so it's hard to be considerate of other people while i'm chasing my pleasure.

"fuck, daddy, you feel so fuckin' good," i mewl, gripping the sheet below me.

i clench around his fat dick, making him grunt and grip my throat, digging his nails into my skin. he sits up to grip my hips, leaving me to wrap my legs around his waist and bring our bodies closer. i continue rolling my hips and clenching as a nice little combo.

he smirks, making the scar on his mouth stretch. "fuck, you're squeezing my dick so hard right now. gonna make me cum, baby," he rasps, his strokes stuttering before he lets out a loud groan and hunches, lowering down to shove his face in my neck. his voice vibrates against my flesh as he husks out of breath, "you want me to cum inside, mama?"

i nod frantically and whimper, "ooo, yes, daddy, wan' you to cum allinsideme—fuck me, oh my GOD!"

my eyes widen then screw shut as his thrusts change from hard and fast to deep, slow strokes. he sits back up, holding my waist and just plowing my shit. i mean, if you was being fucked the way this man was fucking me, you'd come back, too. i swear on my life i will never take him back, but the dick puts me in another world, another universe, another fucking dimension.

god, he's so fucking sexy it makes me fucking feral. i want this man to fuck me over and over until i can't feel anything below my waist and all i can repeat is his name on my tongue.

his dick throbs one, two, three times as he pants, "here it comes, baby. 'm gonna fuckin' cum inside you. take this big dick. take this fuckin' nut, baby. oh, shit!" his breath shakes as he paints my insides like a fucking canvas. i keep my eyes closed, biting my lip as he unloads himself in me, thrusting in and out past orgasm. he starts to tremble, so to add insult to injury, i squeeze him, keeping him inside. i like to make sure i've milked him for all he's worth. it's the least he can do to make up for being such a shitty ex.

i grab one of his hands and take one of his fingers into my mouth, suckling on them one by one. it's times like these when i wanna look him straight in the eyes. my heart tinges a bit at the thought of something that'll never happen.

once i've got his fingers nice and wet, i let the last digit leave my mouth with a pop.

i feel him slowly pull out. i look down, watching his dick coated in our fluids ease out of me, making me whine at the emptiness.

suddenly, i'm being hauled up by my ankles and having my legs hung right over his shoulders and my body pushed upwards. i'm being folded even further, my spine feeling like it's gonna break this way. he stays on his knees, straightening his posture and practically lifting me up as he wraps his arms around my thighs, his fingers situated right between them as he zeroes in on my cunt.

"we ain't done, sweetheart," he husks before diving straight in. his nose bumps into my clit while his tongue fucks me nice and slow. i can barely think or move in this position. all i can do is squirm and minutely roll my hips to meet his mouth. i cover my mouth this time and let out several weakly muffled screams.

this man makes my entire world stop when he's between my legs. when he eats me out, i can't tell if i'm alive or if i've gone to heaven. whatever god sent me this man, i just wanna thank them right now, and i couldn't ask for more.

my eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as they adjust to the moonlight filtering in through the window. i yawn, stretching my body and letting my bones creak and crack. i roll my head around before landing my sight on Toji sitting at the edge of the bed.

"hey," i croak, "how long was i out?"

it takes him a second to respond. "dunno."

i yawn again before speaking through it, "what time is it?"

"11:45."

i sit up straight with widened eyes. "in the morning?"

"at night."

i sigh, throwing an arm over my head. "whew, thank god."

i lay back down. "Kiki's 'posed to pick me up, though. she prolly blowin' me up right now. why you ain't wake me up?"

i feel the bed dip beside me. "you looked peaceful," he says. he grabs my arm, intertwining our fingers, kissing each knuckle. "didn't wanna wake you."

i smile a bit, simultaneously cherishing and resenting the warm feeling in my belly from his affection.

"you know, you're welcome to stay," he husks, peaking from behind our hands and smirking. he moves to hover over my body, planting open-mouthed kisses on my bare stomach as he makes his way up to my neck.

i bask in his affectionate gestures before shaking my head and lightly pushing him back. "mm–mmm. got class tomorrow. can't miss the first day."

he lifts his head and gives me an unreadable look, then gets out of the bed and shuffles through our piles of clothes on the floor. Toji shoves his sweats on, his back and shoulders flexing the way i like.

"you know, maybe you should find a woman your own age by now," i say, still dazed from my nap but feeling a little cheeky.

"huh?"

"my mama tell me i shouldn't be fuckin' wit'chu and be wit' someone my age, but i mean, i'on really care cuz i'm a grown ass woman and i do what i want, but like, don't you wanna settle down and have more kids and shit one of these days? cuz i sure as shit don't want that anytime soon."

"woman, what are you going on about?" he drones, pulling out a shirt from a drawer. he brings it to his nose and sniffs it, shrugging before putting it on, making me scrunch my nose in disapproval.

"like, don't you wanna give Megumi—"

"don't," he hisses, sighing out his nose and looking over his shoulder with a scowl. "don't bring him up."

"why not?" i ask, turning over on my stomach.

"he's my son, and if i don't wanna talk about him, then i won't."

"you never wanna talk about your son. even when we was dating, you never wanted to bring him around me."

"because he's none of your concern," he claps back, grabbing a pack of smokes and a lighter from his nightstand.

he walks around the bed out of my line of sight, heading over to the corner nook. i hear the latch unlock before the window opens and his lighter clicks a few times until it stops. i barely hear the flickering flame over our heavy breathing before it's snuffed with a soft click!

and this shit is the reason why we broke up in the first place, i think to myself, rolling my eyes before hopping out the bed. i feel his snake eyes burning holes in my asscheeks.

"old perv," i mumble as i shimmy my skirt back on.

"old? tell me how you really feel, sweetheart," he hums.

i bend down to pick up my bra and tank top from the pile. i hear Toji walking up behind me before his hand swats my ass, making me yelp and almost face-plant into the ground at the sheer force.

i grimace at the floor while Toji snickers and walks out the bedroom.

"get home safe, baby," he said, his voice fading into the hallway. "see you next time."

i scoff, shoving my shirt over my head and smoothing out any wrinkles. he's so smug and sure of himself that i'll be back it makes my fucking ass itch. what's even worse is he's right: the dick too bomb to quit. i definitely plan on making a return so long as he's digging me out like an excavator.

i check myself out in his cracked vanity mirror, fixing my hair and puckering my lips at my reflection. still sexy as always as a bad bitch should be, even after being thoroughly fucked and creampied several times.

i grab my purse off the nightstand, exiting Toji's apartment into the cool midnight air. i pull my phone out, dialing Kiki's number.

"hey, this Kiki! can't pick up your call right now. you know what to do."

beep!

damn it! she turned her fucking phone off? she could've at least told me so i know to find a ride. fuck, and she know i don't got my car.

i ruminate over my options. i can't go back to Toji's cuz he'd hold me hostage and fuck my brains out until i couldn't walk, and i got class tomorrow, so that's out the window.

i can't take the bus; they stopped running a few hours ago.

i don't even know if Choso has a car nor do i know if he even has a phone. not like i can call him since i don't have his number.

i can call a taxi, but i need to find a number first.

i sigh, wishing i had known it was gon' be chilly cuz then i woulda stole one of Toji's jackets 'fore i left. i wrap my arms around myself to keep warm, walking around for any open place, keeping my head on a swivel. after about 15 minutes of meandering, my eyes spot a small building across the street with a blaring neon blue sign on top.

the domain , it reads.

a bar, maybe? or a strip joint?

either way, it means people and warmth, both of which i need right now.

i look both ways before jogging across the street to the entrance, nearly charging into the place before an arm is stuck out in front of me.

"i.d., please," a low, gruff voice says.

right, i forgot they do that. i dig through my purse to grab my wallet, grabbing my i.d. and handing it over to the bouncer. they take it swiftly. i look up to make a face at them for snatching it, then i pause, studying the person before me.

"Choso?"

he looks up at me. his deadpan expression doesn't change much, but the look in his eyes tells me he's surprised to see me.

he eyes me up and down. "hey."

"...hi."

there's a pause between us. we stare at each other for a moment, not saying a word or moving. finally, he breaks the silence.

"what're you doing here?" he nods his head and squints at me like he's suspicious.

i sigh, smacking my teeth. "what're you doing here?" i bite, crossing my arms and popping my hip.

he mimics my stance, his face unchanging as he replies, "i work here."

i roll my eyes. "yeah, i figured. now that we've established the obvious, can you let me in?"

"not until you answer my question," he says.

what the fuck? why does he wanna know so bad?

"shouldn't you be doing your job instead of interrogating me about what the fuck my grown ass is doing?"

Choso cocks an eyebrow, staying quiet.

fuckin' dickhead.

"i'm here to apply for a stripper job—the fuck it look like?" i say sarcastically.

he scoffs. "yeah, right."

i rub my forehead and close my eyes in irritation. "dude, why you givin' me shit right now? i just wanna go in."

"i thought you were with your friend."

i suck my teeth. "i was," i groan. "then she needed to get ready for dinner with her boyfriend, so i told her to drop me off at another friend's place."

i left out the part about my friend being my ex-boyfriend/current sex fling.

"where is she now?"

"i just told you where she was."

"so, why can't you call her and get back?"

i kiss my teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose. "she was supposed to be pickin' me up before she went, but i overslept at my friend's. i left and went to call her, but she turned her fuckin' phone off and didn't tell me, so i'm technically stranded."

"you don't have a car?" he asks.

"not at the moment," i grit.

he stares at me, his face contorting into one of confusion. "so, why are you here, then?"

i bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

"i need to call a cab," i say calmly, my voice scratchy. "dude, just let me in. i'm tired and wanna go back."

i turn my head to the side and run a hand over my face, discreetly wiping tears of frustration away before they fall; not too comfortable letting a man i just met less than 24 hours ago watch me cry.

i hold back a whimper, the lump lodged in my throat becoming increasingly unbearable as i feel his eyes situate themselves on my trembling figure.

i avoid his gaze and keep my attention on the ground, holding onto my elbows. a breeze blows past me, making me shudder. why is it so cold all of a sudden?

"cold?"

another astute observation from captain piss-a-bitch-off. i can hear the smug grin plastered on his not-so-ugly mug. i think he's broken the record for the fastest time to annoy the shit outta me. he lucky he tolerable to look at.

i swallow my pride for a second, responding without snark, still not looking at him. "didn't account for the late-night adventure before i left the dorm," i rasp.

i feel something fall on my shoulders, seeing sleek black material cover my arms. i look up at him again.

he nods his head to go inside. "go ahead," he says, handing my i.d. back. "i'll take you home after my shift. i'm off in a couple hours."

i give him a lopsided smile before clutching the jacket and making my way inside, beelining for the bar.

i pat the counter as i sit down. "two vodka cranberries, please."

the bartender nods without turning around and says, "you got it."

i thank them, turning in my chair to observe the place. there's a good amount of people, not jam-packed and stuffy but enough bodies to warm up the joint. i shimmy the jacket off, letting my arms breathe.

the decor screams strip club: bright neon lights, velvet seating, raised platforms, and red ropes. the place is dark enough to get away with shit but light enough to see properly without tripping over your own feet.

of course, as i expected, there are half-clad dancers up front, some on poles and others giving personal dances to patrons. they're all super pretty and skilled; very strong-willed dancing for older men who're way too handsy, aren't attractive, and degenerate as hell.

"three vodka cranberries coming at you."

i spin around, watching the glasses slide in front of me without a drop spilling. "oh, uh, i only ordered–”

“i know,” the bartender said, making direct eye contact with me as they fixed up someone else’s drink, adding everything into the shaker without missing a beat before closing the lid and giving the drink a nice shake. “you seem stressed,” they continued, pulling out a glass from below and straining the drink into it, “enjoy, ma’am.”

“oh. well, thank you," i say, still somewhat baffled. picking up the first one, i gulp it down halfway. the burn of the alcohol sends a shiver down my spine and coils in my stomach as i slam the cup down.

i never thought i would end up in a strip club in all 23 years of my life, but here i am. i take a slow sip of my drink this time.

"enjoying the show?"

i yelp, spitting some of my drink out and covering my mouth in embarrassment. he throws his back in laughter, a real hearty sound from the depths of his chest echoing over the loud music.

i lower my hand, revealing a scowl. i release my crashing clench on the glass and wipe the spat-out alcohol off my chest. "dick."

"sorry, i couldn't resist," he says as his laughter simmers down. "you just look so on edge and out of place."

i huff out of my nose, flipping a stray piece of hair out my face and curling my lip at him. "and you don't?"

he looks down at himself, then back at me with a slight smile. "touché, woman. touché." he takes a seat next to me, leaning an arm against the bar and facing the commotion. “i’m gonna clock out and talk to my boss for a bit. don’t go anywhere,” he commands, walking off without another word. i watch him, staring at his back as he meanders through the crowd and slips behind a brown door.

i finish my first drink with a wince, reveling in the vodka running through my nose when i breathe in.

"hey, sweetheart."

i immediately cringe at the feeling of hot breath on my neck. what's even worse is that i can smell how hot it is with how close this asshole is.

managing not to vomit and avoiding conversation, i grab my second vodka cranberry and take a decent gulp.

"wanna head to mine for a little nightcap? promise i'll make you feel real good, pretty lady."

i fix my mouth to say no, but he cuts me off.

“i’ll treat ya real nice, honey~! my ex-wife always said i was a good’un in th’ sack. that is, she said that before that backstabbing, two-timing, no-good daughter of a fuckin’ whore cheated on me—twice!” he yells directly in my right ear, his venomous spit coating the hairs on the back of my neck like rain on grass blades. except it isn’t pleasant or calming.

"c'mon, baby, talk to me," the man whines, his ice-cold hand sitting on my lower back. i freeze. i inhale sharply and sit there listening to more of his unwarranted plans to violate me while his hand travels further down. i want to break the glass in my hand and take a piece and stab this goblin-faced fuck in the neck so that he stops breathing on me (and stops breathing altogether, really), but my body refuses to listen to my brain pleading to move.

"hey, buddy."

i whip my head to the left, seeing Choso walk up to me and the creep touching me. i turn the other way, seeing the creep smirk and slur at Choso, "i called dibs on’er, so beat it, asshole."

before i can see exactly what's happening, a sickening crack echoes through the club followed by some scattered gasps from patrons.

i watch the creep on the floor cradling his nose and groaning as blood spills onto his face. Choso wordlessly drags the guy by the collar to the front, chucking the guy out into the cold with no hesitation.

i expel a ragged breath i didn't even know i was holding. he wipes his hands on his clothes, straightening his shirt before strolling back to the bar.

"Uraume, tell Sukuna to blacklist another one," he says to the bartender.

"already pulling his tab. asshole never tipped, anyway," they chuckle, wiping some glasses with a wry grin.

Choso turns to me. "you good?" i don't trust my voice, so i nod lightly. i grab hold of my last drink, knock my head back, and chug, not caring if the alcohol shreds through my esophagus.

slamming the cup down, i let a belch rip, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before sighing. "let's go," i demand, pulling out my wallet to pay.

i open it up. my eyebrows pinch together as i look inside of it.

"what the fuck?" i whisper to myself.

i dig in it, finding no cash. i swear i had $30 last time i checked. i made sure to only use my card for shopping and lunch today, so i should have some money left.

“what the fuck?” i swear louder.

"what?" Choso asks, “what is it?”

i check the bottom of my purse then the other compartments where i hide money sometimes—only to find fuckin' nothing.

i sweep the ground, but it's too dark to see.

i pat my chest a couple of times and reach into my shirt, checking a small hole in my bra i use for emergency money.

"what the fuck!"

my breathing quickens and becomes shallow, vodka-induced rage buzzing throughout my body. i'm trying my hardest not to swipe everyone's drinks right now as i come to terms with reality.

that motherfucker robbed me!

this isn't the first time he's done this. when we were together, he used to hug me as an excuse to pinch my wallet when i knew he wasn't very affectionate. i didn't pick up on it the first few times until Kiki told me she saw us hug and watched him hide one hand in his pocket after we pulled apart.

after that, i always made sure to keep my cash in my bra and my purse in my car.

i can see how he got into my purse since i brought it inside with me, but i guess the bum caught on eventually to the bra trick.

i cannot believe i let my guard down.

i clutch my head in my hands, banging my head on the edge of the wooden counter. "oh my fuckin' god. i can't believe this shit, man!" i complain, pounding my fist down on the bar counter.

"Flo, what're you screaming abo—oh, shit."

i can imagine the dirty looks thrown my way, but i don't care. they would be screaming too if they found they got robbed by their ex way after the fact. i lift my head and look at my roommate. “what’re you saying ‘oh shit’ for?”

the man points to my face. "um, your forehead is..."

"is what?" i parrot harshly, glowering at Choso right as i feel something trickle down the bridge of my nose. i blink in surprise and touch my forehead, bringing my hand down to see blood on my fingertips.

"shit," i curse and cup my forehead, wincing at the sting of the wound.

"alright, let's go," Choso suggests gruffly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we stand. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a $20, slamming it on the table. "keep the change, Uraume!" he shouts over his shoulder as he hauls me out of the joint.

next episode

[honhonluigi]

16, 29 and 50?

16. What are some of your sexuality/gender headcanons?

I have a headcanon for every single character, but I guess the ones that are the strongest for me are: Tenko is a lesbian, Kokichi is gay, Nagito is gay, Hajime is bi, Chihiro is a trans girl and only likes men, Hiyoko is a lesbian, Kazuichi is bi, and uhh Byakuya is gay. I’d say ‘K1-B0 is nonbinary’ but he literally says it in the game, so that’s...pretty much canon. 

29. Was there a character you started off liking, but ended up hating?

To a certain extent, all the characters I hate started off like this. I don’t begin by hating anyone. I always try to like all the characters until they prove me wrong. But, there were characters that I actually got attached to at first and then I ended up hating the more the game progressed. Junko, first of all. When I met her in V3 (which was the first game I played), I thought she was kind of funny. But the more I learned about her in the other games, the more I realized that her writing was just terrible and obnoxious. She’s a bad character. She sucks. Then there was Yasuhiro. He was funny at first too, but then he just got so much more annoying and stupid as the game went on, until I couldn’t stand him. But the character this happened to the most was Shuichi. My god, Shuichi went downhill so bad. In Chapter 1 and the prologue, I liked him. I thought he was cute. But then after Kaede died, I got mad at the way he treated Kokichi. Still, it was like, okay-- he’s just a prude, and Kokichi is pretty annoying, whatever. I liked him when he was hanging out with Kaito and when he started being friends with Maki. But when Maki, Kaito, and Shuichi started their stupid clique and hung out together? I could not recover from that. Then Shuichi just walked around on this fucking snobby-ass moral high horse, constantly preaching at everyone all the time about how evil they were, when he hung out with a serial killer. He refused to talk to ANYONE other than Maki or Kaito. He was an outright demon to Kokichi all the time because “lying is wrong” but then defended Miss I-Kill-My-Friends-For-Money with his every breath. He just acted like such a fucking hypocrite with Maki and Kaito that it got rid of any justification for how mean he was to Kokichi. Also, I hate hypocrites. He came off as boring, snobby, and holier-than-thou. Because he got saddled with Kaito’s dumb strict moral principles (which Shuichi should be too smart for anyways), and then also got stuck defending Maki to everyone, even though she breaks those moral principles more than anyone else. The writers turned Shuichi into a camera for KaiMaki, and his only role in the story existed to emulate them. He was so fucking rude and hypocritical and preachy to everyone except the two people who broke all the rules he was yelling about. I hate him so fucking much now. What a waste of a character. 

Funny thing is, I almost did this with Nagito and Hajime both-- I was furious with the way Nagito treated Hajime after the Final Dead Room, and I was livid at Hajime for treating Nagito horribly the entire game. If I hadn’t gotten decent explanations for their actions from the writing, I probably would’ve ended up disliking at least one, if not both, of them. But the game did a good enough job of explaining why they did what they did so I didn’t just have to think “Nagito is a stuck-up snobby asshole and Hajime is a callous abusive jerk to people with mental illnesses”. That’s why Kazuichi is a strong contender for my favorite character sometimes. He’s the only character in all three games who never disappointed me even once. 

50. Which characters have the best fashion sense?

This is an easy one! As much as I love high-stockings-with-short-skirt combo, I can’t pick every single girl, and there are some looks that are better than others. Celeste in my opinion has the best. She’s so glamorous and fancy and goth. And then Nagito (minus his fucking ridiculous shoes), has a great grunge look, with that big messy jacket and the red paint and the skull chain. I love both of those looks. Nagito comes closest to my own personal fashion, and if you made Celeste more Gothic and less Lolita, she would too. 

[viceroysalamancer]

so i skipped a few days but hey, times not real. also i never played through dawnguard im going off like screenshots of the place so cut me some slack please. also im gonna hide a bunch of shtory crap under the cut cause i just realized no one knows who any of these people are unless you can read my mind

EDIT: fuckin forgot there were prompts this is like a combo of oblivion and promise cause i dont have spoons for a whole drawing a day most of the time

vels the red one with the sword and shaz is the blue dunmer in the college robes

also noo i will not fix the spelling tonight because i dont wan t to sorry

at age 10, n 11, idk what happened, if house hlallu was uprooted or if there was a small like explosion or something but they left for skyrim, family-less. started in windhelm, then up to winterhold by age 13. hung around n enrolled till age 20. pair gets arrested while artifact hunting around falkreath, hauled off to helgen. in same cart is kajiiti couple, terrified and blathering. man tries to talk to imperials, beg for his wife, gets smacked. wind up in helgen, ulfrics there, huh. so cat woman is led up to the block, chopped, and catmans next, voluntarily, hes like losing it. head ont he block, alduin swoops in, fucks it up. vel gets caught up with the cat man, shaz is buried under some rubble n about to die when the visage of a dwarf appears, makes a deal. she'll save shaz, IF when the time is right, shaz helps hr escape from oblivion. shaz agrees and the pair like, reappear at bleak falls barrow, where they get the dragonstone and sell it to lucan, and then take a carriage back to the college. figures vel is dead, and if she wasnt, she'd head back home, right? well vel thinks shaz is dead so she hangs out with dek, cause hes just gonna be a danger to himself if no one stays with him. head into riverwood with ralof, vel sets de’kath (catman) up with a room the inn and heads to whiterun to ttelll the jarl. heads back for the dragonstone and sees mirmulnir attack the tower. deks there, fighting him, hes got the dragonstone from lucan and hes fucking furious. kills the dragon, shouts for the first time, main quest till diplomatic immunity.

meanwhile shaz is doing the college quest, except its her leading the expidition, cause tolfdirs an old man and she is technically one of the colleges resident masters(destruction, alteration). after shes the archmage its been like a year and a half and she gets invited to a party at the thalmor embassy. so like, why not. she hates the high elves, shes game. 

vel goes to the party, cause its more of an elf thing that kajiit thing, plus she can lie better. they meet up at the party and ill write it someday but long dstory short 

so they do some shit, spend like a year dickin aorund skyrim. then dawnguard, they get to the soul cairn and dnefruuk, whose been haunting shaz the whole time, announces that its time, and shaz made a blood promise or something.  so she marches up to vel n kisses her good, promises to come back, then jumps off deeper into oblivion.

and thats where this thing is thank u for parsing through my shit i love u

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Flame For A Cabbage (Part 9)

Iroh furrows his brows. “It cannot be!” He declares. No, the bear must be lying. “Dante Basco is a good man.”

Bosco puts the head of his fursuit back on, cackling maniacally.

“What are you really?” The Earth King asks. He knows that he will receive no answer. Decidedly, he doesn’t want an answer at all. Anything that uses layers upon layers of illusions and disguises is not meant for human eyes. No, he doesn’t want to think about the true form of this abomination.

Bosco makes himself cozy upon the Earth King’s throne. “entewtain me, foow.” He says with a uwu and looks to the Earth King. Years of being treated as a mere pet rather than the formidable and all powerful being that he is, has made him bitter. It is now the Earth King’s turn for humiliation.

“You do not have to do this.” Iroh speaks up. He does not know what exactly ‘this’ entails. But he does not want to find out. And with good reason. Bosco has terrible and horrific plans. Plans that start with yiffing a dragon; he has his eyes on the Dragon of the West, not realizing that he is actually the Pterodactyl of the West. Plans that end with total dimensional take over. He has taken many universes, it is always subtle at first; small tears in time and space that expose those in that universe to eldritch horrors such as himself, moments where universes bleed into each other, and other unremarkable happenings.

Bosco doesn’t know what subtly is, he often confuses ‘subtle’ for ‘bold’.

He has just finished destroying Earth Kingdom Azula’s universe. The woman had made a large spirit canon and had been blasting it off left and right. It was free real estate. He recalls fondly how she had used the spirit canon to cook her toast and, by extension, finally creating the opening that he had been waiting for.

“This is some damn good toast.” She had said to Baatar, who had somehow survived the first time she had blasted him with her spirit canon. “Really damn good toast.”

What Bosco hadn’t realized was that the damn good toast had mutated her eyebrows, giving them super powers. The ability to shoot spirit energy from them. And so he had to eliminate her and her eyebrows.

Though the damage has already been done. He sees that now as a very timid princess and a very irreparably furious Cabbage Merchant emerge.   Bosco thinks faintly that he shouldn’t have unhinged his jaw, revealing a bleak galaxy swirling with his gaping maw, to consume the merchant’s cabbage stall.

“This is over bear.” She declares.

“He’s not a bear!” The Earth King shouts. “He’s a...f-f-furry and he might be Dante…”

Iroh cuts him off, “he is not Dante Basco. He lies.”

Azula stares at her potential business partner, waiting for him to further explain.

“He is the Loch Ness Monster!”

Azula swallows, for this is all her fault.

Three dollars and fiddy cents, that had been the agreement made by the ancient leaders. Three fiddy to satiate the eldritch abomination that threatens to collapse their universe. Every hundred years one person is elected to make a noble sacrifice to save the world from total collapse. To sacrifice their hard earned cash.

That person is the Avatar. Only the Avatar master of all four elements, could produce exact change. But then everything changed when the Bumi attacked. On a day in mid-January Bumi had shouted, “I dare you to lick that pole.” Avatar Aang, knowing very well that he had to kick the ass of a Fire Lord, but not wanting to look like a coward in front of his friends who had taken to chanting, ‘do it, do it, do it!’ Had approached the pole and gave it a good lick. Unfortunately he could not pry is tongue from the spot so he remained there until a thick wall of ice formed around he and his bison.

One hundred years passed and the Loch Ness Monster was forced to accept a new sacrifice, a cabbage merchant named Azula. She still has a lot to learn (not that she will admit as much) and no one believes that she can save the world (she doesn’t really want to anyhow).

“I paid your price, demon!” Azula shouts.

“Those were counterfeit bills!” He declares.

Azula gulps, so he has seen through her illusions. “I was in a hot spring, I didn’t have cash on me at the time.”

“Ooooooooh.” Bosco nods. “Well why didn’ you just say so?”

“Because that’s embarrassing.” Jet declares for her. “I mean what kind of madman bathes without carrying at least five dollars on them!?”

Azula shoots him a sharp glare and he mutters an apology.

“Someone who is a peasant.” Sie declares. Man, he has been wanting to say that. “A peasant who couldn’t sell enough cabbages.”

Azula’s eyes widen in both anger and shock. “Perhaps I’d have been able to sell more if some people didn’t keep annihilating my stall!”

Aang whistles innocently to himself as if he hadn’t, at one point, airbended her cabbage stand into a sinkhole. As if his bison never swallowed it whole. As if he didn’t lead a band of angry firebenders in her path who had set fire to her cabbages.

Her fury simmers, but she keeps her composure. She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want to have to do this.” She says quietly to Jet. “Hold my beer, you gorgeous man.” But she does not have a beer because she is only fourteen.

She takes her bangs in her hands and snaps them off.

“What the hell?” One of the Dailluminati exclaims.

“There’s a reason why I keep my bangs sharper than Chan’s outfit!” She declares as she plunges her ridiculously pointy bangs into Bosco’s chest. The bear/Loch Ness Monster thing flashes a quick owo and lets out a roar. Azula is undisturbed, her cabbages will protect her. Bosco swipes at her and gives an uncannily cute ‘awoo’.

She stabs him again.

“youw bangs wont wowk on me uwu!” He declares. “stab aww chu want~ i am immowtaw”

Azula knows now that it is true. Loch Ness Monster, Dante Basco, bear, the spawn of Cthulhu, whatever else he may be, is undeniably a furry.

She gives him one final stab. When it doesn’t work she narrows her eyes. “Okay, bear, it’s time to face your doom!” She takes a deep breath as she prepares to enter her final form. In a flashy display of glimmering sparkles and a cheerful pop instrumental, she enters her magical girl transformation.

Instead of her merchant’s  rags, she now wears a crop top with a cabbage brooch, a mini skirt with a belt of emerald cabbages, and knee high neon green boots. The looks is completed by a cabbage tree hat that matches the outfit only in name.

Having completed her magical girl transformation, she gives a snide wink and shouts, “cabbage canon blast!” She holds her hands over her head and a large cabbage appears, it is outlined in glowing green and glitters in the sunlight.

It hurtles towards Bosco who BEARly leaps out of the way in time.

“Cabbage leaf lash!” She calls and summons several bladed cabbage leaves.

They cut into Bosco’s fur and he gives a yip and another owo!!! “chu wiww pay fur dis!”

He gives a sonic roar which lands Azula on her back. She quickly gets to her feet. “Cabbage lotus barrage!” Several absurdly large cabbages sprout from the ground and burst open, blasting off green energy.

The bear awooo’s in pain. But he gets up and springs upon Azula.

She cringes, it has been a while since she has had to resort to a combo strike. “Cabbage lotus leaf barrage!” The words seem to echo as most magical girl spell declarations do. It is for dramatic effect.

This time when the cabbage petals open they show bladed cabbage leaves with them. Bosco opens his mouth and sucks it all into to his blackhole maw. “Fufufufufu.” He laughs. Azula stumbles back.

“It’s going to be okay.” Jet says as he takes her into his arms. But she doesn’t think that it will be. No one has ever escaped the cabbage lotus leaf barrage.

“It’s not going to be okay.” Azula whispers. That had been her most powerful attack. “He’s going to kill all of us.”

Jet hugs her tighter as Bosco looms over them. Azula closes her eyes. If she is going to die, she is going to finally do it. She kisses Jet. This isn’t special nor is it what she was finally going to do, in fact she has done that several times already off screen. She kisses Jet and pulls out a bottle of green hair dye. Quickly she dyes her hair bright green.

“You’re beautiful.” Jet mumbles into her ear.

Azula nods, “I know.”

Bosco still looms over them, claws extended, bound by the laws of storytelling to wait until their dialogue has finished to strike.

Sie, having become a master at evading scripts uses this time to muster up his courage. He has no love whatsoever for the Cabbage Merchant and her adonis-looking boyfriend. He has even less love for Long Feng, the Avatar and friends. He doesn’t like his brother and uncle either and only has moderate platonic affections for Mai and TyLee. But he hates Bosco so much more. And despite his ill opinions on all of his companions, he can’t just let them die.

Sie throws his timidness to the side and then throws himself between Bosco and the Cabbage Merchant.

[marvel-mega]

Two can play this game|| 2 (Bucky x Reader)

authors note: here's part two ! thank you guys for all the love <3 special shoutout to @m-agiql and @spookybibs for the spam of notifications last night lol I really appreciate it! maybe ill start doing this more choosing a people to shoutout ;)

word count: 1544

warnings: smutty and angsty (the best combo)

*gif credit to owner** 

Bucky’s pov

The two were in a cab heading to bucky’s house since it was closer. It felt like fire, in a good way kissing Y/N felt like the flame that bucky needed to ignited inside of him. Y/N was the fire he needed inside of him, Y/N was what bucky needed to feel alive. “Y/N I really like you”. Y/N stopped kissing him and...just stared at him. Bucky could see her mind was going a mile a minute. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that I barely know you and you barely know me. This is probably just gonna be a fling even though I don't want it to be. Well I mean I-”. She was laughing Y/N was laughing, “I like you too Bucky. You seem like a great guy.” she giggled. Bucky wanted to hear that sound as many times as he possibly could. Y/N kissed his lips gently, “You don’t need to be worried with me.” “I know we just met but I don't want to lose you I feel so drawn to you.” 

Then Bucky saw something else flicker in Y/N’s eyes. She drew a deep breath “Me too Bucky.” Bucky couldn’t wait anymore he went straight for her lips again. The cab driver informed the two ‘lovebirds’ (cab drivers words not bucky’s)  that they had arrived at Bucky’s apartment. Very calmly the two paid and left the cab and entered the apartment but when the door shut that’s went the fire came back in between the two. Bucky pressed Y/N against the door, she moaned from the pure strength Bucky possessed and the pleasure she received from Bucky’s mouth. Bucky had to hear that again he lifted Y/N up around his waist and she gripped her legs around him and the universe answered his prayer because he found the sticking point in Y/N’s jaw while on the way to his room. “Strip for me” Bucky said with such authority Y/N felt her knees go weak. But being the minx she is Y/N decided to push him. “And if i don't sargent?” Bucky growled at the name rolling so sensually off her lips. “I’ll show you what happens princess.” Y/N felt a twinge of regret after hearing how deep Bucky’s voice had become. In a flash both Bucky’s and Y/N’s clothes were gone thanks to Bucky. Agonizingly slowly Bucky brought Y/N to his lap, she sat and moved his throbbing cock to her hole. And slid down it, she gripped Bucky’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, she was ready to move. But bucky had other plans, he stayed motionless inside Y/N’s warm channel. Y/N clenched and unclenched unable to control how loud she was moaning. “Mmmm Bucky please” “That's not my name prinţesă” Y/N moaned once more, “Pleaseee sargent” “Are you sorry? I'm not even sure I should give any pleasure for the attitude you have towards me. Now that I think about it I have some emails I need to respond to.” bucky grabbed his cell phone that was nearby. And began to check his emails like he promised. Y/N was losing it, she couldn’t believe how calm bucky was with his cock perfectly hitting the spot she needed but not moving. Y/N swore she almost blacked out when bucky pulled out and slammed into her with such force she let out a yell. Bucky switched so Y/N was on her back and for a moment he was lost in her beauty and sudden familiarity? Bucky didn't focus on that instead focused on pleasing her to the fullest extent. And when Y/N yelled sargeant as she came down from her high Bucky knew he achieved that. Before he came Y/N pulled him out from inside of her to both their discontent and began to lick Bucky’s slit and stroke the rest of his cock. Bucky grabbed Y/N’s hair and pushed her down on his cock until she gagged and he came harder than he thinks he’s ever came before. Y/N was painted in bucky’s cum she dragged one finger across her cheek and sucks on her finger sweetly. “Y/N I really care about you .” Y/N froze and began to cry. Bucky didn’t know how to react.

Y/N’S POV

Y/N couldn’t hold it in anymore she had to cry she had to tell him  her true intentions. “I’m not a mean person I never wanted to hurt you it’s just that you hurt me so badly. I wanted to hurt you just as badly, I wanted to be cruel i had this whole thing planned out and i can't do it. I'm not strong enough because even after two years i thought i was over you but im not im 100% not over you james.” y/n said as she sobbed in bucky’s arms. Bucky was beyond confused, “Y/N what are you talking about?” Y/N stopped, everything stilled “you seriously don’t remember do you?” Y/N stood up and wiped her eyes, “I have to go James, have a nice night” Bucky begged “Wait Y/N please talk to me. I have no idea why your flustered.” Y/N just walked out with her plan still on her mind but at this point some changes were made. “James don’t touch me let me leave.” Bucky refused to let her leave without an explaination, Y/N was furiously whipping her tears as she tried to get out of the apartment, “Stupid door unlock!” Bucky placed his hands on either side of you blocking you from opening it. “Please prinţesă, talk to me” Y/N took in a shaky breath. “James I-” “Please don’t call me james i love when you call me bucky” “you loved when everyone in high school called you james.” Bucky eyes went wide “Y/N Y/L/N?” Y/N didn’t say anything, Just in monotone voice said “No Y/N Rogers” “Y/N we went to the same high school?” Y/N let out a humorless laugh, “God you’re thick. Yes! I was the girl who wasn’t as skinny as other girls and the one who wasn’t popular. I’m the girl you asked on a date a month before graduation and you stood me up ! I waited four hours for you the restaurant stayed open an extra hour because he felt bad for me!” Y/N began to get angry with Bu- James. Y/N began to poke Bucky in the chest she was furious. “And the fact that you don't care goes to show you never really cared about me.” Y/N scoffed. “God and I actually felt bad because I THOUGHT about hurting you i had never even intended to go through with it.”

Bucky POV

Bucky did remember that night, he did remember Y/N in high school, he knew he made a massive mistake but he didn’t want to lose you now. Bucky sighed “Y/N i remember it, I remember how much of a dick i was i remember going to get drunk with my friends instead of being with you i remember thinking of you.” Y/N seemed like she didn’t believe him, “Oh pity me James.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Y/N there’s no excuse for what I did to you, and if you choose to not forgive me i completely understand just know that my mind was not in the right place in high school the only thing that mattered to me were; steve, booze, and being and staying popular. And the day I asked you out after school we were alone, laughing and talking and I felt like I could be myself i felt like you knew me more than all of those so called ‘friends’ of mine. I wanted to be with you but- i was dumb i feared what people with think more than what you would think of me. So the day we were supposed to hangout Steve called and told me sam wanted to hangout and I wanted so desperately to go to you but I knew they would come and just bother us. Also, I didn't want to share your attention i wanted you all for myself and i made it worse instead.” Bucky felt as though he was going to cry, but he held back until a tear fell across his cheek. “Bucky, honey i understand. You were really dumb in high school” Y/N said with a gigglr and a wink. “Oh there she is!” Y/N’s head tilted to the side “Who’s here?” “My beautiful prinţesă. I will never hurt you like that again. I want to promise you that.” Y/N felt her heart go warm, “I accept that promise James Barnes.” Y/N said as she wrapped her arms around bucky’s neck. The two shared a kiss, Y/N was right before when she thought one of them was completely unbeknownst as to what was to come because Bucky utterly surprised her tonight. Well this heartbroken girl finally got what she wanted, pure love from the one she loved the most.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Can you write a riverdale sickfic where Archie wakes up with a really upset stomach and doesn't want to go to school but his dad doesn't believe him and makes him go anyway and Archie is having to throw up between blocks & eventually goes to the nurse to get to go home? Thanks!

(Hey anon! Thanks for the prompt! I love me some Fred interaction!! And I love me some shoehorning in Reggie!! Can you guys tell I love Reggie //whoops. Sorry this ones a little more on the ficlet side!! I’ve been writing lengthier, heavier fics so this one was a good refresher!!)

Fred had been pretty suspicious of Archie this morning for a multitude of reasons.

For one, Archie had been coming home extra late recently and had been sneaking out. When Fred came in to get Archie’s trash while he was at school he found unfinished homework, meaning he didn’t have his homework at school. Finally, he had bumped into Alice last night and said Betty was stressing over some Science test which Archie was definitely not studying for because he was playing his guitar.

So when Archie walked in the kitchen today telling him he didn’t want to go to school because he was sick, he didn’t believe him.

“Archie, I’m not having this anymore,” Fred said firmly.

“What, dad?! I don’t understand how you can’t see that I’m sick?” Archie asked, completely bewildered.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off with your school work, leaving your homework—unfinished, mind you, coming home late and sneaking out, despite having to study for this huge test Alice told me you have..”

Archie looked furious and upset, “Fine! I’ll go dad. It’s good to see how much you know me.“

The red head grabbed his bag in anger and stormed out of the house, leaving Fred shocked.

"Archie!” Fred called, making his way to the door to see his son stomping away. He watched him leave, trying to ignore the doubt beginning to build in his stomach.

Archie couldn’t even make it three minutes without his stomach flipping out on him and beginning to heave. He rushed to the nearest bush and hurled, retching the contents of his stomach into the plant.

He felt awful. He felt awful because of how sick he felt, but also awful because his own father wouldn’t believe him. He felt awful because he was angry at himself, wishing he had just been more responsible this week so his father wouldn’t have doubted him.

Archie had been out with the Bulldogs last night for one of the member’s birthday, which was weird because they never spoke, and had been eating at a diner at the south side that he had never seen before.

Of course, Archie had no qualms against the south side, his best friend hailed from there. The south side got a bad rap, and while they did inexcusable things, so did the people at the north and the south always got the blame. He had been opening his eyes quite recently after uncovering the truth about Jason Blossom’s death.

However, his stomach did have qualms against the south side because apparently it did not like the food it digested the previous night. He had felt a little odd as he snuck back home, and went to bed, figuring that he was just stuffed.

Boy, was he wrong though. This morning he woke up, his stomach churning and whirling around. He felt like he was on a boat during a storm, rocking and hurling him around. He had managed to make it into the bathroom before heaving and retching last night’s dinner.

With a pounding headache, Archie went downstairs to his dad, feeling sick as a dog. When Archie was sick, he loved affection and attention, and to be doted on. Usually, it was given to him, so when Fred refused him it was a shock to his miserable system and he was furious.

As Archie finished, still feeling quite queasy and light-headed, he began to drag his zombie like body over to school. However, he barely made it to the next block before he felt liquid begin to rise up his throat and he was running over to another bush and retching yet again. He coughed and spluttered. He gagged at the disgusting, bitter taste left in his mouth and made a mental note of getting some gum and water from one of the vending machines.

This process of retching at each end of blocks kept repeating itself. He’d find himself about to enter a new one when his stomach churned and he’d be heaving, gagging and he’d hurl into a bush again. He quickly run out of things to throw up, and ended up vomiting bile. The process burned his throat.

Eventually, he made it to school and he forced his weak body into the school’s doors and into the hall.

As he made his sickly, ghost-like presence known to Riverdale High, he could see people’s reactions. He was met with looks of shock, surprise, concern, and he was just glad none of the looks belonged to any of his friends. Honestly, if they found him at this state and ask him what was wrong he’d start crying. Archie wasn’t one to conceal his emotions, and often confided in Jughead, who was always there for him no matter what, but he had a gut feeling he knew he wasn’t very rational and he’d just worry the kid unnecessarily.

Archie dragged himself to his locker, and struggled to get his combo due to a splitting headache and clammy hands. His stomach was flipping and he felt so queasy, trying to conceal his gags and tiny dry heaves. He fanned himself lightly, and wiped his clammy hands on his pants. Speaking of clammy, he was sweating immensely, like he had just gone to Football practice.

Speaking of Football practice, a loud voice filled with life and energy that Archie would kill for in his weak body rung out across the hall. The voice was crisp and clear amongst the hustle bustle and blurred chatter of the various students.

“Yo Andrews!” Reggie called, a wide, sparkling grin on his face.

Archie groaned softly to himself, not wanting to deal with this Star Boy’s snarky comments and attitude. In a way, Jughead was the same, but Archie never found Jughead something he didn’t want to deal with, and Archie began to wonder what the real difference was, and in his fevered mind he couldn’t find it.

As soon as Reggie was at the side of his locker, leaning against the locker next to him, seriously rattling it in the process, Archie gagged, dry heaving and clamping his hands around his mouth just in case anything came out of it.

Reggie’s egotistical and overly confident grin faded instantaneously, his features being taken over by worry and concern. Some sort of mental block in Reggie prevented him from being too soft, and honestly that would make Archie even more uncomfortable he would genuinely throw up.

“Woah, Andrews. I’m sure you don’t find me that gross?” Reggie commented, no actual trace of spite or meanness in his tone, his whole voice laced with worry.

Archie then took off, sprinting to the closest bathroom, unable to keep it in any longer. Each step he took caused his head to pound and throb, making him dizzy and even more queasy, threatening the sick to just burst out then and there.

Reggie had ran after him the second he took off, momentarily forgetting about this Cool Boy facade he had been putting on for the rest of the school. He had caught up no problem, seeing as Archie’s agility had been greatly compromised from this illness.

Archie burst into the thankfully empty bathroom and kicked open a stall, before retching into the toilet. Reggie stood a few feet behind him, trying not to be a dick and understand that Archie couldn’t help it, but it didn’t mean Reggie didn’t find it disgusting!

“Uh..you..okay, man?” He asked awkwardly. This was an awkward situation indeed; for one Archie was throwing up everywhere, he seriously was scared of vomit, and it was weird for both of them for Reggie to be showing his softer side.

Archie looked at him then jerked back to the toilet and continued to wretch. It was seriously hurting his throat, burning it raw and hurting his stomach. His muscles tensed and cramped uncomfortably and he put his hands to his stomach with the pain as he continued to heave and retch. He was absolutely miserable.

Reggie put his metal barriers aside, caring way more about Archie than any facade or fear he may have and approached the ginger and crouched down next to him, rubbing his back as he continued to throw up into the toilet. Once Archie was done, the bells rang.

“We’re going to be late,” Archie croaked weakly.

“Nope, I am. You’re not–you are going to the nurses and going home,” Reggie instructed firmly.

“C'mon,” Reggie coaxed gently, wrapping one strong arm around the redhead’s waist and helped him stand up. He supported him as they wobbled over to the Nurse’s office. Archie was too weak to argue and Reggie’s tone left no room for argument.

“You’re going to be late.”

“When am I not? Besides, this time, I’ll have a heroic excuse!”

“No! Reggie–..god..never mind, it’s fine, just..”

“..It’s because Jones is in my class and you don’t want me worrying him, huh?”

Archie was silent.

“It’s cool bro, don’t worry about it. But you know, he’s going to find out about it anyway, and he won’t be happy.”

Reggie didn’t press any further because by the look on Archie’s face he was content with that.

“Thanks for bringing him in, Mr Mantle,” the Nurse said politely, her face completely shifting as she met Archie’s eyes.

“And you shouldn’t have come in in the first place! Silly child!” She scolded lightly.“

"Get back to class, Mr Mantle,” The nurse commanded, before dialing for Fred and leaving to the side.

Archie managed a smile, “Reggie, thanks for this. I..it means a lot.”

Reggie managed a smile, different to his overly confident one, softer, genuine, “You ain’t heavy, Andrews.”

“Right back at ya, dude.”

He left, a smile on his face. The nurse returned shortly after, “Your dad will be here soon, Mr Andrews.”

Archie couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little, still very much annoyed with the events that played out earlier this morning.

Fred Andrews walked in about 10 minutes later, looking very flustered and concerned.

He nodded at something the nurse was saying and made his way over to the bed Archie was sitting at.

He looked genuinely so guilty and upset, “..Archie..”

Archie looked up at him and acknowledged his presence, arms still crossed and lowkey sulking. He got up and started walking with Fred out the door, an arm protectively clutching his stomach.

Fred looked so guilty he didn’t even know what to say, and stayed in an agonising silence as the two made their way over to the truck.

Archie climbed onto the truck and leaned his head against the window, his headache worsening.

“I should have believed you,” Fred said quietly.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Archie spat out bitterly, not sure if he was genuinely that angry or if he was under the influence of his headache.

“I know. I’m not here to defend myself, I’m accepting I’m totally in the wrong and as your father..I should’ve noticed. You’re my son, Archie. I’m so sorry,” Fred apologised.

Archie didn’t reply.

Fred sighed, “I’m..really not good at this, huh? Maybe..”

Fred didn’t have to finish his sentence; Archie knew what he meant. He knew deep down his dad felt like Mary was a lot better at parenting, and that deep down he thought Archie was better off with her.

“Dad..” Archie finally replied, softer, he lifted himself off the window and shifted towards Fred’s shoulder, leaning against him. His father’s warmth was comforting and much better than any window.

Fred smiled softly, sparing a sneaky glance at his son, his gaze filled with love. He put his free hand on his shoulder, comfortingly rubbing it. They’d be home soon and he could make it up to him.

[buddhismworksforme]

5 questions from Buddhism, Stoicism, and Neuroscience that will make you emotionally stronger

               Emotions  can often hijack our brains, but there are effective ways to  respond.               

 Ever been caught in the grip of extreme emotions? I'm gonna guess  whatever decision you made next probably wasn't a good one.

 When we're anxious, angry, or sad, we rarely do the smart thing.  And that can seriously mess up our lives.

 At work, in love, or pretty much anything we do, we need  emotional strength to stay cool and do the right thing.

 Now dealing with the ups and downs of feelings isn't anything  new. And nor are some of the best solutions. So let's look at  what some ancient wisdom has to say about dealing with difficult  emotions.

 Studying Buddhist mindfulness or Stoicism can take a heck of a  long time. So we'll prune their insights down to 5 questions that  can help you when emotions hijack your brain and send you into a  tizzy.

 First up: worrying. When your mind is filled with anxious  concerns and doubts, what question do you need to be asking  yourself?

 1. "Is this useful?"

 Face it: Your brain can be a pretty crazy place. All kinds of  things bounce around in there. And you're usually pretty good at  culling the wacky thoughts. But then you get worried …

 And your brain starts multiplying negative possibilities like  crazy. And you make the mistake of taking them seriously. Every.  Single. One.

 Remember: You are not your thoughts. Neuroscientist Alex  Korb made an interesting distinction when I spoke to him. If you were to  break your arm you would not tell people, "I am broken." But when  we feel worry, we're quick to say, "I am worried."

 Your brain produces thoughts. That's its job. But that's not  directly under your control. So just because something is in your  head, doesn't mean it's "you," and should therefore be taken  seriously.

 When I spoke to Buddhist mindfulness expert Sharon Salzberg, she said this:

 I think one of the issues that we have is that we don't  necessarily recognize that a thought is just a thought. We have a  certain thought, we take it to heart, we build a future on it, we  think, "This is the only thing I'll ever feel," "I'm an angry  person and I always will be," "I'm going to be alone for the rest  of my life," and that process happens pretty quickly.

 If you acted on every crazy thought that popped into your head, I  can guarantee you two things:

 There's a blockbuster reality show in your future.  

 And not a lot of happiness.  

 So if you are not your thoughts, who are "you"? You're the thing  that decides which thoughts are useful and should be taken  seriously.

 The ancient Stoics believed that you are just your reasoned  choice; because that's the only thing fully under your control.  So those worried thoughts aren't you. The decisions you make  regarding them are.

 You're not your brain; you're the CEO of your brain. You can't  control everything that goes on in "Mind, Inc." But you can  decide which projects get funded with your attention and action.

 So when a worry is nagging at you, step back and ask: "Is this  useful?"

 When I spoke to Buddhist mindfulness expert Joseph Goldstein he said:

 This thought which has arisen, is it helpful? Is it serving me or  others in some way or is it not? Is it just playing out perhaps  old conditions of fear or judgment or things that are not very  helpful for ourselves or others? Mindfulness really helps us both  see and discern the difference and then it becomes the foundation  then for making wiser choices and why the choices lead to more  happiness.

 If the worry is reasonable, do something about it. If it's  irrational or out of your control, recognize that. Neuroscience shows that merely making  a decision like this can reduce worry and anxiety.

 (To learn the 7-step morning ritual that will make you happy all  day, click here.)

 But maybe you're not worried. Maybe you're furious. But what is  anger? Where does it come from? And what question can make these  HULK SMASH feelings go away?

 2. "Does the world owe me this?"

 Anger comes from entitlement. You feel you're entitled to  something, reality doesn't bend to your expectations and boom —  you're punching things. Or people.

 Traffic is bad. You get angry. Let me translate that thought  process for you: "Traffic should never cause me problems. The  world owes me that." Sound reasonable? Hardly.

 Or someone doesn't do what they said they'd do. You get angry.  Now you might reply, "People should do what they say  they'll do! I have a right to be angry!"

 Yes, it would be nice if people always followed through, but is  that a reasonable expectation? Of course not. You know people  don't always do what they say. Now you can definitely call them  out on it. You can decide to do something in response. But the  anger?

 That awful feeling is all yours. You had an unrealistic  expectation ("People will always do what they say")  and now you're shocked — SHOCKED! — that they didn't.

 Famed psychologist Albert Ellis (whose work was inspired by the  Stoics) led a war against the words "should" and "must." Anytime  you use those words, you're probably in for some unhappiness  because you're saying the universe is obligated to bend to your  will. Good luck with that.

 So the solution to anger is to ask yourself: "Does the world owe  me this?"

 Yeah, it's a trick question. Because the world doesn't owe you  anything. And the more you think the world owes you, the angrier  you will be. Again, it's all about reasonable expectations. And  that's why Marcus Aurelius said:

 Begin each day by telling yourself: Today I shall be meeting with  interference, ingratitude, insolence, disloyalty, ill-will, and  selfishness …

 Not a pleasant way to start the day — that I grant you. But he  was on to something. Expecting everything to go your way, let  alone insisting on it, is a prescription for anger.

 I know what some people are thinking: Feeling you're entitled to  nothing in life seems unfair and sad. But don't forget that you  take for granted what you are owed. Not being entitled makes  every good thing in life a prize. You either achieved it or you  were lucky, and those lead to feelings of pride or gratitude.

 When you're entitled, you don't appreciate anything, and you're  frequently disappointed. Not a good combo. And when psychologists  are evaluating if someone is a narcissist, guess what one of the  four criteria is? Yeah, entitlement.

 (To learn how mindfulness can make you happy, click here.)

 Maybe you're not worried or angry. Maybe you're just overwhelmed  by sadness about something. Well, I have a question for you …

 3. "Must I have this to live a happy life?"

 Plenty of people have a lot less than you and live a very happy  life. If happiness was all about money, then every single person  in the developing world would be miserable. People who have lost  a loved one, who have become handicapped, or heaven forbid, had a  bad hair day, are all capable of living happy lives.

 What do you truly need to live a happy life? (Hint: the longer  your list, the more miserable you will be.)

 As Marcus Aurelius said:

 Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within  yourself, in your way of thinking.

 So next time you don't get something you want and it makes you  sad, ask yourself, "Must I have this to live a happy life?"

 Yeah, yeah, forgive me — it's another trick question. The answer  is almost always "no."

 Maybe you didn't get that promotion. And when you ask yourself  the question, your first thought is, "But my career is important  to my happiness!"

 Hey, I underlined the word "this" for a reason, pal.

 Yes, your career is important. But is this  promotion, right now, vital to the happiness of your  life? No. Who knows what the future holds? And some of that is  under your control. There are many ways to live a happy life and  very rarely will this one thing make or break you.

 (To learn the four rituals neuroscience says will make you happy,  click here.)

 Now when you're consumed by negative emotions, it can be very  hard to make good decisions. Which means more bad stuff happens,  which means more bad feelings. So how do you make smart choices  when you feel awful? Just ask …

 4. "Is this who I want to be?"

 News flash: there is no singular, concrete "you." Neuroscientists  have poked around at plenty of grey matter and there's no spot in  there that contains a stable "you." And Buddhists were saying  this over a thousand years ago.

 Neuroscientist and Buddhism practitioner John Yates explains:

 We often believe we should be in control, the masters of our own  minds. But that belief only creates problems for your practice.  It will lead you to try to willfully force the mind into  submission. When that inevitably fails, you will tend to get  discouraged and blame yourself. This can turn into a habit unless  you realize there is no "self" in charge of the mind, and  therefore nobody to blame.

 Tons of things affect your decisions every day. Context, friends,  and moods all affect what you do and who you are. This is a good  thing, because it means you can change.

 But it presents a challenge because it means you need to  decide which person you will be today, Sybil. And  this isn't something you want to get wrong. What is the #1 regret people have on their  deathbeds?

 I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the  life others expected of me.

 Yow. So who should you decide to be? We can turn to modern  science for this answer: Be you on your best day. So when making  tough choices think about whether what you plan to do is aligned  with the "you" you're most proud of.

 Merely thinking about your best possible self makes you  happier:

 Results generally supported these hypotheses, and suggested that  the [Best Possible Self] exercise may be most beneficial for  raising and maintaining positive mood.

 And don't worry about seeming inauthentic, either. When you act  like your best self, you end up showing people what you're really like:

 … positive self-presentation facilitates more accurate  impressions, indicating that putting one's best self forward  helps reveal one's true self.

 (To learn the schedule very successful people follow every day,  click here.)

 Alright, this has all been very focused inside your head. How can  you be emotionally strong when someone you're dealing with is  being emotionally weak or difficult? If someone else is anxious,  angry, or sad, and it's making your life rough, that can bring  you down. How do you help both of you? Ask yourself …

 5. "Have I ever felt that way?"

 Whatever they are going through, you've probably felt something  similar. So be compassionate.

 Both Buddhism and Stoicism believe in doing your best to reduce  the suffering of others. Buddhism has the  four divine abodes: loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic  joy, and equanimity. And on the Stoic side, good ol' Marcus Aurelius said:

 Be tolerant with others and strict with yourself.

 Compassion sounds nice, but does it really produce results?  Absolutely. And you get bigger benefits if you do it when you are  least likely to want to — during an argument.

 Via 100 Simple Secrets of Great Relationships:

 People who maintain a compassionate spirit during disagreements  with their partner, considering not just the virtue of their  position but the virtue of their partner, have 34 percent fewer  disagreements, and the disagreements last 59% less time. – Wu  2001

 (To learn how to have more grit — from a Navy SEAL — click  here.)

 Okay, we've learned a lot. Let's round it up and learn the most  important part of being emotionally strong …

 Sum up

 Here are the five questions from ancient wisdom that will make  you emotionally strong:

 "Is it useful?": Most worrying isn't. Make a    decision to do something or to let it go.  

 "Does the world owe me this?": No. Don't be    entitled. Have realistic expectations and you won't get angry.  

 "Must I have this to live a happy    life?": Probably not. It takes little to make a happy    life and there are many ways to get those things.  

 "Is this who I want to be?": Act the way you    do when you're at your best.  

 "Have I ever felt that way?": Respond to    others' problems with compassion and you'll both have fewer    problems.  

 The most important part of emotional strength is not calming your  mind. It's being resilient. It's trying again after you've been  shaken by negative feelings.

 There are plenty of areas of your life where this is critical,  but none is more important than your relationships — research shows 70% of your happiness  comes from relationships.

 You will be hurt. You will feel bad at times. That's life. Sorry,  there's no avoiding it. So the question is: Who is worth it? Who  is most meaningful to you?

 So when things are hard, have the emotional strength to still  give to them and help them and care for them. You now have tools  to weather the storm. Earlier I mentioned the biggest regrets that people  had when they were dying. Know what #3 was?

 I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

 So go first. Let someone know how much they mean to you. Who are  we most likely to love? Research says it's the people who  first show us love.

 Recently, I have been lucky enough to have this happen to me. And  I can tell you nothing feels better.

 Enough reading, time for doing. Right now, have the emotional  strength to tell someone important how you feel, to forgive  someone, to let someone back into your life, or to reconnect with  someone you miss.

 Don't wait around for something negative to develop emotional  strength. Flex some now and see how happy it can make you.