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boinkyyy · 3 months ago

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o fello lacroix connoisseur i need 2 know all your hcs about prince sebastian lacroix

bruh you can't ask me this i'm not gonna remember all of them at once and then i'm going to remember or come up with some more 3 hours later and then furiously be forced to reblog this 80 times because tumblr doesn't apply my post edits to every reblogged version of that post (literally 1984)

but you've already seen some of them so let me just compile them here for easy reading (HUGE text block--MASSIVE--read under the cut):

LaCroix has an engraving in at least one of his weapons that has something cheeky in French like "If they bite thee, bite them"

He used to be Catholic during his mortal years and still sentimentally carries or even wears an old, discolored and worn wooden heirloom rosary under his clothes because I thought of the mental image of a cross necklace over a hairy chest with light blonde hairs and I immediately got COVID

He's got a mostly average build with some wiry/understated muscle from his time in the military, along with some various unnamed pockmarks and scars from combat. Waterloo probably left its mark

Alongside his rosary, he probably has some kind of signet ring from his noble house somewhere that he keeps in a box

He wears shirt stays and sock garters

He slips into his native French when agitated or sometimes when on the phone

He's like 5'4-5'5

He probably wakes up with a bit of stubble every evening because he was Embraced very shortly after the Battle of Waterloo

During his time as an officer, he was awarded a cross of the Ordre Royal et Militaire de Saint-Louis, minimally Chevalier rank

He descended from a minor noble house and was (or still is) an equestrian

Basically stealing this from Iravaid but I'm hcing him with Protean now due to that thing with the game files revealing that he technically has access to claws (probably unintentional if we look at it from a meta perspective but I will take literally ANY LaCroix content and RUN with it, and I decree that an ancilla should have access to auxilliary disciplines) and that his animal shapeshift is an albatross

As he was from Calais, which is a port town with ties to England, he probably knew some [UK] English even before being Embraced

His relationship with his Sire was either incredibly boring or tumultuous and difficult emotionally, given how little he's inclined to talk about him. You'd think if his Sire was particularly prestigious that he'd brag about his lineage as Ventrue so love to do, but perhaps he didn't because he knew the significance would be lost on the Fledgling

That's probably also why he brings up his military service to some extent if you pick the "Yes sir" dialogue option. Most Kindred probably perceive past mortal accomplishments as virtually worthless, so it would really only be interesting to someone like you (the player character)

Given that he mentions that he spent some time helping the Camarilla claim unprecedented/new territory in Europe, L.A was probably not his first rodeo in stabilizing the Camarilla in hostile lands. Not by a long shot

If he pursued L.A in particular willingly, despite knowing the danger, this would be good justification for why. Otherwise, I like to imagine that his station here was something of a punishment from multiple persons of interest who wanted him dead

I don't have any particular headcanons for his feeding preference but if I had to put up a list, I've always liked a) firstborn sons and b) men of military service

His internal clan ranking would be that of an Aedile

I headcanon his methuselah of descent to be Antonius (strategy, administration), although Arakur/Lantla (Tiamat) would be a funny pick if you were to go for the irony angle (history of diablerie, extreme hubris, power-hungriness and drastic decisions)

Did we forget that LaCroix mentioned that he was in New York during the time when it was still a Sabbat-dominant domain and presumably present for the decisive battle of 1999? I didn't. And that shit was brutal. Day haven burnings, extensive counter-intelligence and the cooperation of multiple large factions/clans/several Archons and a Justicar in the largest Camarilla military offensive mustered in the modern nights. While he certainly appears to be more of a "lead from the war-room, not the frontlines" kind of person in the game, I don't think Sebby boi is slacking when it comes to PACKING THAT HEAT. He can hold his own in a fight and his time in Europe or New York is probably where he picked up Protean. Just the night vision and the claws alone would help massively to defend himself or even go on the offensive in a place that's in a constant state of urban warfare.

It would also explain why he happens to have Mercurio, a highly connected arms dealer from NYC, under his thumb as a ghoul

Whatever went down between him and Bach in Africa, it was probably also how he picked up his Sheriff, who I'm pretty sure is supposed to be a Nagloper

I feel as if, despite his unusual emotional reactivity for a Ventrue, he's not at all unused to failure or humiliation. You really can't be, having lived for 200+ years. You telling me he lived that long and has never eaten shit and taken some enormous L's? Nah. Ventrue don't coddle their brood. So I think, his final moments where he's literally injured and about to die aside, he can pivot pretty quickly from a setback, and more smoothly than most would think. I think this is demonstrated pretty well when he finds out that you know about his alliance with Ming Xiao and immediately begins manipulating you and trying to flatter/appeal to you/earn your trust while making the snap decision to set up your swift removal from the picture...AND a contingency plan for if his first assassination attempt failed. Wow. And even when THAT fails, he STILL always leaves room for plausible deniability, continuously trying to play you even still. It's got me to the point where I genuinely don't know if he ever intended to keep his promise of granting the Fledgling a scrap of power if his plan ever succeeded or if that was all just bullshit to keep them motivated to help him, because if he was truly powerful beyond reproach then there would be no reason not to just squash them like a bug since they've served their purpose...but there'd also be no reason not to give them their reward anyways since they can never hurt him now. Anyways, his dots in manipulation must surely be a 4-5 with a specialty (gaslighting)

He's probably generation 7. I doubt he's generation 6 or lower

In addition to everything else, I'd be surprised if he didn't also have some low dots in Auspex, Celerity and Potence. For in-clans, he's definitely Dominate-heavy, with maybe Fortitude secondary and Presence tertiary

His exceptionally dead and corpse-like appearance when unBlushed likely has to do with a lower Humanity rating

Standard fare for Ventrue, but he's no doubt got a collection of French poetry and literature somewhere. Ventrue tend to be very erudite, and he's likely no different. I hope he journals as well

Given that his hometown was a port city, I wouldn't be surprised if he made his money in the 1800's up until his move to New York from merchantry/trade/transport/stocks, and on the Kindred side of things, accrued and traded boons from transporting Kindred to/from the New World and to other locations in the Old World. His current business appears to be some kind of indeterminate, vague money-moving, finance operation, or so it seems

This is pure nothingburger baseless headcanon but I think it would be fun if he was a Hound during a stint in the Courts of Love as a neonate before moving on to bounce all over Europe under many different patronages/tutorships

He maintains unflinching, unblinking eye contact with inferiors/juniors as a form of etiquette and asserting dominance as the old crusty fucker in the room

Likewise, he doesn't retract his fangs in private or safe settings because why would he be ashamed of being Kindred

He picked up tobacco as a soldier to make the grind of warfare bearable and never dropped the smoking habit even as Kindred. He never flinches at lighters now. As uncomfortable as it makes his Beast, that brief moment of recoil followed by the relief and familiarity of ritual has become an old friend

As he likely hadn't had to speak it regularly in a while, his French is a touch antiquated, moreso than his English ("malingering mollycoddlers?" What??)

He intentionally doesn't bother to correct people's pronunciation of his surname because as an immigrant, he knows that everybody is going to fucking butcher it anyways

His mother named him after the saint Sebastian

He's most definitely a switch in my eyes, with a preference for being the dominant one/the one to set the pace and a slight preference for bottoming

Learning the clan history during his Agoge and how Clan Ventrue had no small share of meddling with the Catholic Church at various points in time probably contributed significantly to him becoming a more or less non-practicing Catholic/virtually secular, as well as the general trauma of being undead, but he still regularly uses Christian phrases or sayings/idioms that allude to Christianity when speaking French due to his upbringing and force of habit

His favorite color is blue. His eyes probably also used to be bluer before the Embrace made them an almost preternatural white

I could easily type more but Tumblr is begging me for mercy and taking up like 80% of my CPU right now so I think that's my cue to stop--

#vtm #vtm bloodlines #sebastian lacroix #prince lacroix #vampire: the masquerade #vtmb #my headcanons

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soupygremlin · 11 months ago

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pinned post because why not!!

hey guys, i recently got an ask from someone in Palestine who needs help reaching their goal. Only FIVE people have donated so far, so they have only raised 250$ of THEIR 40,000 GOAL. 250$ is not even 30%. PLEASE, if you can, donate. If not, then share. Thank you.

also, please donate to this campaign as well!!! They are not even 50% to the goal!!!

cronus ampora or any of their variants dni.(blood swap and dualscar) besides that I’ll just block you if i don’t like you lmao

my reasoning for not wanting Cronus to interact:

he also makes me generally uncomfortable so I’d prefer if he didn’t interact with me please!

Blinkies!!! (All glitter stamps made by @carebearsandkawaiistuff76 unless explicitly stated otherwise. If your seeing this, i love your blog >^<)

image description: teal blinkie with two libra signs that reads “ i (diamond sign) my moirail!” with two diamonds on either side of it.

image description: yellow blinkie with two Gemini symbols on either side that reads “this user is a lowblood sometimes.”

image description: yellow blinkie with two gemini symbols on each side that reads “ S: Mituna: WARN THEM ALL!!!!”.

image description: black blinkie that reads “ S: Mituna: Perform a great act of sacrifice.”

image description: black blinkie that reads “S: Eridan: Fight Your Way Out”.

image description: violet blinkie with Aquarius symbols on each side that reads “this user CAN smite you, but won’t.”

image description; bronze blinkie with Taurus symbols on each side that reads “this user is scared of mold, don’t talk about it around them.”

image description: grey blinkie with cancer symbols on each side that reads “This user wants to hatemarry themself.”

image description: red blinkie with Aries symbols on each side that reads “this users moirail is a time player.”

image description: blue blinkie with Sagittarius symbols on each side that reads “This User Can Tolerate The Zahhaks”.

image description: pink blinkie with a bloody knife on one side and a pink heart on the other reading “ This user has communication issues! Be patient with them!”

Image description: teal blinkie with a pink and grey snail on the left side that reads “ (arrow sign) greet the world with open arms! (Smiley face)”

image description: Eridan Ampora with a lot of sparkles everywhere. (This image description is probably kinda bad, let me know how i can improve it pleaseee!!!) this stamp is made by @carebearsandkawaiistuff76 !!

image description: Terezi pyrope with a lot of sparkles everywhere. Made by @carebearsandkawaiistuff76.

image description: Eridan Ampora hitting his head at his computer. There is glitter covering his sprite. Made by @carebearsandkawaiistuff76.

image description: Sollux captor standing near a bee hive covered in honey. There are purple bees surrounding him, as well as his sprite being glittery and the bee hive being glittery. Made by @carebearsandkawaiistuff76.

image description: black blinkie with a computer on the left side that reads “Let’s play SBURB”.

Image description: a glittery sprite of Eridan Ampora in his Prince of Hope god tier outfit.

image description: black blinkie with Eridans smiling pesterquest sprite on the left that reads “Prince of Hope” in purple text. Made by @www-r04dw4rr10r-net.

image description: a yellow blinkie with a Gemini sign on each side that reads “Future Battery” in black text. Made by @ratmans-notebooks.

image description: green blinkie with a Leo sign on each side that reads “this user thinks The Disciple is underappreciated.”

image description: violet blinkie with an Aquarius symbol on each side that reads “this user HATES Cronus Ampora. And not as a kismesis.”

image description: teal blinkie with a Libra sign on each side that reads “this user loveees red (evil smiley face).”

image description: green blinkie with a Leo sign on each side that reads “this user is an APEX PREDATOR! RAWR! (evil kitty face)”.

EVEN MOREEE!!! (More blinkies that is.)

#pinned post #new pinned #tw flashing #tw blinkies #tw eyestrain

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seirindono · 11 months ago

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two questions.

one, HOW DOES ONE COMIC/STORY BOARD??

IM OBSESSED WITH HOW YOU DO IT ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

two, HOW DO YOU SO IT SO FAST( that’s question is more just me being super impressed oh my goodness)

you’re very good😳

Aw, sweet, a board question *puts on serious glasses*

Ok, bring it on anon.

So, the first thing to ask yourself when starting a comic, as I see it, is what type of board are you dealing with. Webtoon? A4 pages? 4 panels? There are many ways to go about it, and each involves different processes. For example, pages will allow for more superfluous scenes, whereas the webtoon format has to be super succinct because of the reading direction. I personally think that's the main reason I do pages, among other advantages: •narrative density •variety •Tumblr-friendly format

There are quite a few disadvantages too but you have to go through the process of trials and errors to really find out what suits you best!

Then there's the ambition of the sequence you're boarding for. And it goes from 1. how used I am to boarding this kind of sequence/drawing these characters/setting and backgrounds, to 2. is it an emotional sequence? Dialogue-heavy? Or more contemplative?

It changes the way you work and how you should approach your board! For example, in TMS, the very wordy chapters (4 and 5 for ex) generally called for simple and narrow framing. Of course, you don't want to bore the reader so you can spice things up to match the characters mood and reactions once in a while, but you have to bear in mind that the sequence aims to provide dialogue and information = the text bubbles are key and WILL take a lot of place. So let them.

( then again, it's all about pacing and balance. A page full of dialogue and one with too much happening are equally hard to read and boring to do)

Only dialogue, simple squares, no compostion, the focus is on Mel's reaction

On the other hand, parts 7 and 8 are all about action and atmosphere! This makes for wider and more varied shots!

They're fighting, things are going fast so why not use a single line to show many actions! They're still basically squares and rectangles but the pacing is totally different!

Or why not give the action a full page to really show its sheer impact

You can also split things, with a zoom or small time gap, depending on if it's a gag or if you want to put the focus on a reaction. Here, the asymmetry helps reinforce the unstable, jerky aspect of the scene. The situation is getting out of hand, and visually, the pages are affected too.

Now, these are case-by-case examples. And I never work on my pages separately.

For context, this-

-is the "first" board I did for part 8.

The drawings are very small and frankly difficult to make out, but the intention is what matters at this point lol I have the script (very important) next to my canvas, and I scribble the pages one after the ither. This allows me to see if the actions flow well, if the compositions are varied and also whether certain passages are too long or too short in regard to their importance. Which scenes can be merged? Removed? Toned down or if they deserve more bite?

This is a really fun and creative part but, I'll say it again, made a lot easier with a solid scipt. And I'm talking about a text document with clearly defined dialogues (or at least outlines) and actions.

I can't really explain how to write a script, it really depends on your work flow and how confortable you are with writing, but it's too important to just rush through it. No matter how much it changes before, during or after your finish boarding (cuz you gotta break your own rules sometimes and you'll often realize some things don't work as well once you put them on paper/sometimes art block can be resolved by writing the scene and just taking the time to imagine) but it's still your one guideline.

Aaaand, that's about it.

Other than that, I can only highly recommend reading lots of comics, Webtoon, books, watching movies, paintings, illustrations, animatics or listening to music, to inspire you and expand your own "personal library of references". Professional or not, anything your find inspiring and well executed. Boarding is at its core, telling stories. No art skill involved, just pure subjectivity. At the end of the day, it's all about squares, rectangles and bubbles so you gotta work on your creativity. The rest is gut feeling!

Constantly ask yourself how to tell this story, and how you want to tell it. How this sequence should be perceived? What do you need to show to make pages and pages of words appealing and interesting.

Be patient, be bold. Start with easy stuff to get some confidence if you need to. Accept that "boring" pages are smt necessary and that it's up to you to build up tension for a scene to really pop. Try new ideas and be ready to scrap many of them, the result will be worth all the work!

Now, concerning the "fast" part, I'm flattered but I personally think I'm super slow xD You prbly get that impression bc I finish the whole chapter before posting it, but behind the scene, I'm just working at a very regular pace.

Thank youuu anon ♡( ◡‿◡ )

#ask #ask me #forgot the tag I use for those errr #tuto #boarding is so much fun *sigh* unlike this *looking at the pile of pages waiting for lineart*#I personnaly prefer boarding for animatic but comics are fun cuz I know I'll get to actually see the final result haha #I know some artists love to do intricate shots with lots of details and pers (big flex here) but I'm more about the vibe really xD

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icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

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Could we do a prequel of “ground rules” like what really happened that night..

someone requested this nearly a whole year ago, i found it whilst trying to clean up my inbox and, okay so FINE, the girlies want smut ???? they can GET it, enjoy (fiy: this can totally be read on its own w/o needing to be aware of what ground rules is even about) (cw: 18+ smut) Wordcount: 4.9K

---

Inside Out & Outside In

(read Ground Rules here)

Ghosted.

You’d seen this guy three times, had talked to each other for over a month.

Ghosted.

Three lovely dates. Were absolutely planning on taking it there tonight. Had shaved your whole body, were wearing matching underwear which never fucking happened, were lotioned and potioned and ready. Smelled fucking amazing.

Only to be fucking ghosted.

He said he’d meet you at a certain restaurant you’d really wanted to go to, and then… just didn’t show. Calls went unanswered until they got declined. Blocked? Maybe. But why? For what? Weren't you unbelievably hot, and nice, and kind, and smart, and cute, et cetera, et cetera?

After waiting for way longer than you should’ve, you texted a friend. Asked if they were still having people over that night and if it was okay if you stopped by too – you’d turned down the invite earlier, because you had a hot date, obviously.

“yes please come! everyone’s here” got followed by a more concerned, “everything ok?”

No, not really, but maybe after another drink you would be.

You walked into your friend’s flat and were welcomed by about fifteen people shouting loud heys and hellos, all upbeat and happy and cheery.

Joe took one look and saw you were definitely not feeling all upbeat or happy or cheery, and went to fetch you a drink whilst you explained to the friend you’d texted that he just… he didn’t show up.

“What the fuck? He just… he just bailed on you? Did you call? Or text?”

“I did, but–”

“Weren’t you seeing him for a little while already?” someone else chimed in, and you realized that your friend must’ve informed everyone else. Or, at least, some people. Not that this was a huge party – just, a get-together, a gathering. Just some people over in her flat, drinks and snacks and loud laughter with some background music going. Like a night at the pub, but cheaper, and open ‘til later.

“No they went on– you went on a couple dates, right? My God, and to then just…”

“Did you get stood up?”

“Yea, I–”

“Hey, come on,” Joe interrupted, holding up a drink for you but nodding his head towards the balcony. Get you out of this overwhelming bombarding of questions. You didn’t need telling twice.

Outside, you leant on the banister with Joe next to you and just took quiet sips of your drinks in silence for a second. Joe rolled a cigarette and didn’t really say anything. Didn’t ask anything. Not until you sniffed loudly and he saw you were trying your best to blink tears away, to suck the excess water that was starting to pool there back into your tear ducts somehow.

“Hey, he’s an idiot. Proper dickhead.”

You let a wet laugh escape you and nodded. “Yea, he is.”

“How long did you wait around for?”

You winced, annoyed and disappointed with yourself for how long you sat in that restaurant by yourself.

“Too long,” but then you immediately defended, “But you know, I didn’t want to assume the worst. What if something happened? What if there was a good reason for– maybe he was just running late, you know? People run late sometimes for valid reasons, don't they?”

Joe nodded, lighting his cigarette and filling his lungs with smoke before he blew it out to the side, away from you. Considerate.

“You’re too kind for this world, you know?”

You grimaced, and Joe went, “No, that’s a good thing! We need more people like that. Like you.”

“Yea. Well. Thanks, I guess...”

You didn’t mean it, thought it just made your life unnecessarily and unfairly difficult, but Joe wasn’t one to press it any further.

Another silence fell where you listened to the noises coming from inside. Someone knocked over a glass which caused commotion and you could hear the beat, the soft bass, of whatever song was playing.

You drank, and Joe smoked in between sips and you both looked down at the street. A car was trying to parallel park and failing miserably at it. The silence and lack of attention on you was just what you needed to open up.

“I was really starting to fancy him,”

“Yea? Already?”

“Wouldn’t have gone to see him again if I didn’t,”

“Makes sense,” Joe tapped some ashes over the banister, “That’s actually smart… also makes this extra shit.”

Yea, it did.

“I think… maybe I’m just, I think I’m just a bad judge of character, because I don’t–” you stopped because your throat did something funny. You had to cough to mask the sob that got stuck in there and tried to hide your wet eyes as you turned away from Joe.

But Joe saw.

Joe knew.

“Darlin’,” Joe tossed his cigarette and took hold of you by a shoulder. Made you turn back to make eye-contact.

Yea, you were definitely crying.

“Come here.”

You got pulled into a hug and decided that, yea, fuck it, you were totally allowed to cry actually. A shitty thing had happened and it was absolutely fine to be sad about that. It didn’t exactly help that whilst you waited at the restaurant, you’d downed two fat glasses of wine already and were now halfway through a beer, but... Joe was there and he was nice, and friendly, and was warm and hugged you tight, and didn’t ask invasive questions, and, wasn’t that somehow just exactly what you needed?

You stood like that for a while, just in Joe’s tender embrace in the cold air, blinking slow tears down your face every now and then.

A knock on the window made you want to turn, to pull away from Joe to see who that was and why they wanted your attention. But Joe wouldn’t let you. You felt how he shook his head at whoever was on the other side of the sliding door and didn’t let his grip waver.

Apparently there was some sort of nonverbal communication, because next you felt Joe jerk his head to the side. You imagined he nodded in the direction he wanted that person to disappear into. Imagined his frowning fuck off facial expression.

“Who is that?” you asked, voice a little constricted because you had a throat full of weird emotions.

“No one important.”

You huffed a laugh. The people inside were all of your friends – they were all important.

After another short silence, Joe let his arms slip down and pulled back. You weren’t off the hook yet, though. Joe kept his arms loosely around you and forced eye-contact.

“You okay?”

“Yea...” you lied as you sniffed.

“...you sure?”

You huffed a laugh and were honest when you said, “No.”

You saw Joe’s worried eyes scan your features, seemingly looking for something hidden in your eyes. Then his eyes cast down and looked at the drink you were holding still.

“Need something stronger?”

“Yes, please.”

Joe smiled at you, impossibly warm, and kind, and sweet. It was the sort of grin that was impossible not to copy.

“I’ll be just a sec,” Joe said, stepping towards the door. “Do not do anythi– keep both those feet on the ground, no irrational silly decisions.”

You gave him a deadpan stare followed by an eye-roll that made him laugh.

“All right. Just checking,” Joe disappeared inside and couldn’t fight his smile.

Neither could you.

Inside you saw people try to grab his attention, try to ask him if you were okay, what was going on with you. It was all well-meant attention, but exactly the opposite of what Joe wanted. He’d assigned himself the role of carer for the night. Would lend you either shoulder of his for you to cry on for however long you needed.

Joe wasn't going to lie; he fucking loved this.

Obviously it was awful that you were sad, but to be able to swing in and protect a fragile pretty girl all night? Sign him the fuck up.

It’s why he ended up ignoring everyone for the rest of the night. Told people to leave you alone, that you needed a minute, to not bother you a second. Hogged you all night. Kept you out on the balcony and fetched you drinks and snacks. And when you started getting cold, only more reason to hug you, to try and keep you warm.

And, listen, so what if you started playing up how sad you actually really were?

So what if you used a face on Joe that you knew would make him go, “No, stop it, don’t cry, enough now,” whilst using a palm to push your head into his chest?

So what if, after a quiet murmuring conversation whilst hugging, you shivered because just Joe’s arms around your back weren’t warming you up enough, and to fix it, Joe opened his coat and let you snuggle inside whilst he wrapped the wool mix fabric tightly around your back?

So what if you were a little more into the attention than you were letting on, and started mentally thanking the universe for that wanker standing you up tonight?

You deserved nice things too.

And Joe was a nice thing.

Joe made soft jokes about the people you were both looking at inside. Said some of them definitely deserved to be ghosted by someone, unlike you. Made you turn your attention towards the moon, because look how nice it looked tonight. Let you complain about your lack of love life and was self-deprecating about his love life in return, just to make you smile.

Joe let you try a hand at rolling a cigarette for him, which you’d never done before. It was obvious too. When you handed him a barely-there sad excuse for a cigarette, all pretend-proud because you knew exactly how shite it was, Joe carefully took it from you and inspected it with a funny face, eyes all narrow, eyebrows up high on his face. Made you giggle. But then he went and actually tried to light it, and you laughed, tried to take it from him and said, “No, don't actually smoke it!” but Joe was quick to hold it out of your reach as he blew out a little smoke and said, “It's perfect.”.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in. With more drinks, and whispered jokes, and empathetic eyes, and squeezing hugs, and with the body heat trapped between his button-down and his coat.

After one particular tight squeeze, you felt your whole body react. Unmistakably you felt it mostly inside of your underwear.

Fanny-flutter.

That sort of made sense. How could any of this not have an effect on you? And it wasn’t as if it didn’t have an effect on Joe, either.

You easily confessed, alcohol in your veins lessening the sensitivity to rejection, not at all bothered about what Joe's reaction would be. You had expected it would definitely make him feel awkward, would maybe scare him off, but instead, he’d gone, “Yea? Feel this,” and had guided your hand to his crotch. He was half-hard.

Inside, one of your friends saw and grabbed another by the forearm, eyes bulging with shock. Joe’s coat covered your hand from direct view, and the light from inside reflected in the windows, but that was definitely your hand pressing onto a penis. The windows were big and you were stood right in front. How was no one to notice this? It was just the one friend at first though, but her gasp followed by the arm grab made two people see.

Then two more.

Then five, seven– eight.

“Did he just...?”

“I fucking told you– I called it! Didn't I call this an hour ago?”

You faked needing to go to the toilet and left without telling your friends goodbye.

Two minutes later Joe excused himself, said he was tired and would see everyone next week, and had found you waiting for him just outside the building.

He took some hurried steps and stopped to stand right in front of you, peering down and smiling slightly. You’d been close all night, bodies either touching or close enough to touch, and even though it had just been mere minutes, Joe had started missing it already, so he stood close and looked down at you and smiled. Waited.

His coat was hanging open still from when you’d been inside of it, and with the wind picking up, you used it as an excuse to keep your hands and fingers busy because, what the fuck were you and Joe actually going to do?

Tension had risen enough on the balcony, and you’d essentially snuck out after revealing to each other that you’d turned each other on.

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But all you knew is that you wanted to be close to him, and so your fingers slowly buttoned up his coat, starting from the bottom. Joe didn’t move and tried to control his breathing as he watched your eyes drag up his body one button at a time.

You let your hands linger after doing up the last one, fingers touching the fabric that covered his chest, and you swallowed as you stared. Imagined the skin that was hidden underneath all the layers there.

“Mine or yours?” Joe asked, voice impossibly soft.

Your breath hitched, and on the back-end of an exhale you managed to say, “You live closer.”

“All right,” Joe grinned widely and presented his open palm, “Let’s go then.”.

You grabbed onto it and turned to start the short walk, but Joe was cemented in place and pulled you right back, swinging you back and right into him. You’d have laughed at how clumsy that collision felt if it wasn’t for Joe’s lips clashing with yours on the impact.

You wished it didn’t take you by surprise as much as it did, because you knew Joe must’ve felt how you went rigid all over for a second and he was about to pull back in response. Like he’d made a mistake and only realized by your reaction.

The slightest hint of Joe not kissing you, however, was enough to kickstart your whole system and you moved to chase after him which resulted in the kiss never even breaking, and Joe released a small noise from his throat.

Not a mistake, then.

He kissed you harder when you reciprocated, and it was cold out, but Joe was warm, and you and Joe had never done this before – had never even looked at each other and considered this to be a possibility, and it was exciting. The buildup had felt so very natural and, listen, you were both adults, weren’t you? Could do what you wanted to do. Didn’t have to talk everything over because, well, doing this, doing what your bodies felt like doing, was just nicer.

Joe shook his hand from the one he was still holding onto and moved them up to hold your face. Cupped your jaw and held your head in place as he kissed you more. You had to hold onto his wrists for fear of losing balance, or maybe for fear of floating away entirely.

The sound of a balcony door opening high up above you somewhere sprung anxiety into Joe’s legs.

He broke the kiss, found your hand again and said, “Quick. Come on,” and pulled you right along the pavement, your shorter legs doing the most to try and keep up.

Quick legs nearly jogged themselves down a couple of streets, and knees impatiently clicked in and out of over-stretching as you had to wait for some cars to pass when you had to cross a road. Joe took the moment to bring your colder hand up to his face, cupping it with both of his and blowing some hot air onto your fingers before he planted kisses there.

You let an almost pained noise escape you, said, “Can’t be so sweet to me. Makes me want to be sweet back.” which was music to Joe’s ears.

About a minute removed from Joe’s flat, you felt a drop on your forehead. Then another. You held out a hand, and felt how quickly the rain picked up.

“Shit, come on,” Joe said, squinting up at the sky and tightening his grip on your hand before he started running.

It only took a second for the couple of drops to turn into a sudden torrential downpour. The water was cold, and it hurt your forehead, but you were laughing as you ran. This all felt ridiculous.

Joe had to let go of your hand to get into his building, and you saw his wet hands fumble with his keys a little. Joe noticed his own shaky fingers and knew you were watching too, so he overdid it. Shook so hard, he dropped the keys and made you laugh.

“Oh my God, hurry up,” you pretended to want to take over, but you got playfully shoved to the side and just got more wet in the process.

Both ways.

When he eventually pushed the door open, he held it and did a silly little bow whilst gesturing for you to walk inside first.

Ever the gentleman. Meant he'd be outside in the rain longer.

He took hold of you by the waist with both hands and dug his fingers in firmly over your coat. You were a tipsy mess of soft giggles as you covered his hands with yours, easily letting yourself be lead towards the lift.

Each time there was a second of you not being as close, it was his hands to moved you back in.

Outside the lift you kissed some more.

Inside the lift you kissed some more.

Outside Joe’s door you kissed some more, hands roaming over clothes.

Inside Joe’s flat you kissed some more, hands roaming under clothes.

Wet coats and shoes got discarded in a messy heap by the door.

You noticed that Joe’s ears had significantly darkened in colour, from more than the cold rain could’ve done to them. They were so fucking red, you could practically feel the phantom burn in your own.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in here, in his flat. Maybe a couple months ago when you and some friends picked him up on your way somewhere, dipped inside real quick because one needed the toilet and another had never seen the place before.

You hadn’t been there often at all, but you knew the way to his bedroom. Made your way there blindly, because all you could see was the inside of your eyelids as Joe kept his face firmly attached to yours.

In there, you bumped your hip into a dresser and nearly tripped over something left on the floor. Joe made noises as if he could feel your pain and pulled you snug against him by the hips. Made you be able to feel his entirety through his trousers, and something in the back of your brain sparked.

Instead of focusing on your own clothes, your mind was with getting Joe out of his first. You wanted to feel him. You’d get to you later.

Wrong.

Joe got to you immediately.

He pulled on the hem of your top and worked it over your head, leaving your to blow a mess of hair from your face which didn't work because it was all wet strands that stuck to wet skin. You heard Joe suppress a giggle, used a kiss to not let it slip out, because fucking God, you were so fucking cute.

Your fingers found Joe’s trousers to undo, but Joe was quick to take over. Knew it’d be faster if he did it himself.

“You’re going to have to talk to me,” Joe panted, shoulders pulled up high and chin tucked in as he undid the button to his trousers, carefully handling the zipper. You frowned as you peeled your wet jeans from your legs, nearly losing your balance as you did.

Was okay though. Joe caught you with a strong arm before you did.

“Tell me what you like,”

Considerate. But you weren’t one to say all that much during getting to know someone like this. Joe could get some panting yesses and some encouraging moans from you to guide him along, but that’d sort of be it.

“Tell me what you don’t,” Joe added, because your lack of answer translated into hesitation from you.

The rain was really coming down harder now, violent and unrelenting, tapping hard against the windows of his bedroom. It was nice for background noise, didn’t leave the silence awkward. Muffled everything a little and you were glad you couldn't hear your own heartbeat in your ears because that meant Joe wouldn't be able to hear it rattle in your chest either.

With his arm still around your waist from making sure you didn’t topple over, Joe crowded in more, and where touches and kisses had been hurried and messy since stepping over the threshold, Joe took a second to just... be close.

Let his nose circle yours without letting your lips meet.

It turned you on so much, it kind of drove you mad.

He took a small step forwards that forced you to take one backwards.

You curled both arms behind your back to unclasp your bra, and Joe was quick to remove it from between the two of you, letting it drop to the floor. You heard his careful breathing, felt it on your face as his grip around you tightened as he slowly pushed forward more.

You took small backward steps until the back of your legs touched the bed and you made sure to wrap both arms around Joe’s neck to ensure you’d take him with you.

Joe braced an arm against the bed, slowing you both down, ensuring the wind didn't get knocked out of you.

The second your bare back touched his sheets, Joe's mouth found yours again in the dark and hands roamed where they hadn't roamed before.

“Is this okay?” Joe muttered after a while, one finger hooking the side of your underwear, like this wasn’t the sole reason for you even being there in the first place, and you nodded.

Of course this was okay.

But suddenly, almost just to fuck with him, you frowned and went, “Actually…” all serious, like you were about to leave a yelp review, and Joe pulled back immediately.

You felt how he held his breath, waiting for you to say something. Hesitant. Nervous.

“You’ve not said anythi– look, these match the bra,”

Joe’s eyes scanned down, looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see your bra at all, and then turned to look back at you, confused.

“It’s a set.”

Joe didn’t get it. Why would he fucking care if your bra matched your briefs?

Joe dipped down and kissed your neck to avoid having to answer.

Joe had also said you’d have to tell him what you liked, and... all right, fine, you could try.

“Tell me you like it, I want you to– say you like ‘em,”

“I love them,” Joe immediately obliged, speaking hot breath into your ear.

Good.

You hadn’t put the effort in for Joe specifically, because how could you have ever predicted this is where you’d end up, but you had put in effort and wanted, no needed, the validation.

“I love them so much,” Joe said, hands now working to pull them down your legs whilst you started trying to undo Joe of his underwear.

It was dark, and the air around you felt cold where the rain had left you wet, but Joe was on top of you, and you were both entirely naked now, and arousal worked hard to heat you up from the inside out. You felt yourself start to unfurl at the edges.

Joe’s hands were everywhere.

Joe’s mouth was everywhere.

“Inside,” you panted, surprised you were actually instructing.

“Yea? Where?” Joe asked, voice all breathy, his fingers stroking silky soft skin, leaving trails of tingles and slick.

You didn’t even really care where if you were honest. Just wanted to feel him inside. You’d felt it press up against you for long enough now.

“Inside,” you said again, unable and unwanting to explain yourself any further, but using your hands to help and guide, showing him rather than telling him.

And fine. Joe could be shown. Instructing didn’t always need words. Could be nonverbal all the same, Joe decided, gladly letting you help him push himself inside.

And, fuck.

Fuck.

That felt so fucking good.

Joe went slow.

Was all tender touch and paid attention. Tried to hold his breath until he couldn’t anymore. Tried to keep his groans inside until he couldn’t anymore.

Joe went slow until he couldn’t anymore, hips finding a pace all by themselves, spurred on by your moans and your finger nails that dug wherever they could dig.

Joe’s weight on top felt nice.

Joe’s hands moving your legs about rather than trying to manoeuvre you into entirely new positions was nice.

Joe’s head buried into the space between your neck and shoulder was nice.

All his sounds unmistakably close to your ear was nice.

It was all nice, and then it became good.

“Yes,” you panted, moaned loudly, and heard Joe pant and huff a proud laugh.

“Yea?”

“Mm hmm,”

You felt it creep up. Slowly, but definitely there. Joe needed to keep doing exactly what he was doing. No messing.

“Yes, don’t stop, don’t–” moans got louder, and, it fed something inside Joe. His ego, his pride, his dignity, his confidence.

It had the wrong effect.

Joe knew he was doing something good, because, look at you. But it made him want to do more. Encouraged by the noise you were making, Joe upped all of everything he was doing, and–

“No, you’re–” you laid a flat hand over his shoulder in an attempt to slow him back down.

You felt how Joe went rigid, almost halted entirely.

“Go back– you need to, do it– I said, don’t stop, you–”

You weren’t very good at using your words, but could anyone really blame you? Look at where you were. What you were doing. How you were feeling.

Joe got the message, though. Went back to what he was doing before when you had started moaning yesses and, yea, it took a little time to get back to that same place you were before. But Joe was unrelenting, just like the rain outside that got smacked against the windows by strong gusts of wind, and your orgasm hit you just like it as well.

For a second or two, you weren’t really there.

You felt Joe’s weight, felt his movement, felt his touch, but you were gone.

Heard just the rustle of wind and the clattering of raindrops, a loud static in your mind, and felt utter, utter bliss.

You floated long, tried to stretch it for as long as you could, until you suddenly were there again, in Joe's bedroom, on top of his sheets, and you heard him groan loudly. Felt his hips stutter against your own. Felt him spill deep inside.

It took Joe long to pull out.

He kind of kept going for a little bit after he came too, seemed almost hypnotised and went for as long as he could, until he couldn't anymore. Until he winced, and stopped, and carefully pulled himself out.

You awaited reality to crash into you like a shockwave, but the shock took its sweet time and you thought maybe it was saving itself for the morning, because this was always your favourite part. Straight after, where guys let their heads drop against your shoulder, against your chest, all their weight heavy on top as they caught their breath.

And Joe was just like every other guy ever, because he did the same. Rested on top of you until his breathing evened out.

But Joe was also different, because before he rolled off of you, his hands found your face to touch, to cup, to hold as he pressed kisses into sweaty skin, and then asked you if you needed anything. If he could get you something.

“The bathroom,” you said, letting a breathy laugh escape you that Joe copied.

You pushed all thoughts of doubt aside, told your mind that it could panic over the lack of protection used later. Shock was allowed to find you in the morning, you’d decided now.

“Don’t be long,” Joe mused, rolling off and moving covers to crawl underneath, revealing he expected you back. Back into bed with him. To cuddle, to snuggle, to tangle limbs and to fall asleep together.

What the fuck was your life?

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But it was nice, and comfortable, and exactly what you fucking needed, so you gave in. Peed, cleaned yourself up, splashed water wherever you felt it needed splashing, and snuck right back into bed where it was warm. Where two strong arms pulled you close.

You were both naked still.

And Joe had his remnants inside you still.

But reality could find you later.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in.

Reality could find you in the morning.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #ground rules #inside out and outside in

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the-starry-seas · 5 months ago

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I'm thinking about Mandos and disability again, specifically my OC Tanau who has a TBI and his customised helmet/disability aid

One of the most notable things about it, is that the visor is split into two parts - the horizontal and vertical halves of the T-shape have a thin strip of beskar between them. There's also no tapering in the visor itself, it's pretty much exactly an actual 'T' with 100% straight lines and right angles. Above the visor is an MS for mir'shupur, or brain injury.

In fact, the strip that separates the visor also denotes the line between the top and bottom halves of the helmet's front. The bottom halves slide to the side so he can eat while still wearing his helmet, or drink without having to fiddle with a straw (shaky hands from other physical trauma can make straws difficult).

The visor is custom in more ways than one! He can manually adjust how much light gets to his eyes, to the extent of a blackout mode that allows him total darkness. He can also choose to only black out half his visor, since both parts have their own controls.

There's a speech-to-text readout that automatically displays along the left cheekpiece of his helmet instead of across his visor, so he doesn't have to read text overlaying an image. When his tinnitus gets bad, or he can't stand to hear any more noises, the helmet automatically transcribes all incoming sounds on his private comm channels.

With his memory problems, he sometimes gets distracted from his tasks or disoriented when left alone. Along the right cheekpiece are a few things that he can switch between. One list shows the tasks he's supposed to be completing, and who asked him to do them. The other list shows plans and appointments, with countdowns to things within the next three hours. There's also a map that allows him to ping his husband's armour, their home, and a few other locations they frequent, and get step-by-step directions to find them.

The earcaps of the helmet itself are built further out than usual. This is because they're packed with noise-cancelling tech and a white noise datachip. The noise cancellation can be adjusted to several levels, from blocking out all noises above a certain decibel, to totally muting the outside world.

The white noise helps with his tinnitus. He favours the sound of rain but he can also switch to ocean surf, a crackling wood fire, a creek, windchimes, or instrumental music. His husband also recorded a lullaby that's hummed instead of spoken, and is relatively short so it can loop as one steady stream of sound.

As well as speech-to-text, there's also text-to-speech. He can use a system of blinks to select letters, words, or phrases. His helmet then uses records of his voice to speak for him. Mandos tend not to mind that he's a bit slow answering, he's mir'shupur, after all, and they're perfectly capable of being patient. He doesn't like to rely on sign language with strangers, since there's so many language variants that could lead to misunderstandings.

#come home au #i've been thinking about him again. also i want his kickass helmet.#mandalorians #mandalorian headcanons

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sinful-delight-77 · 6 months ago

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So I have something important to say.

I have autism.

And sometimes my autism makes talking to people difficult for me, especially when I don’t know what to say. So I apologise if my responses seem cold/awkward to some.

And I do have a hard time saying no/setting boundaries so when I do input them, it’s a massive step for me because I used to be such a people pleaser and that has landed me in situations I’d rather talk about a different time (irl stuff). Please respect my decision if I say no or even seem hesitant. I get I’m into cnc but there’s always a boundary there. If these boundaries are crossed I will block.

I have trouble reading tones through texts (and in general) so if you’re joking/being sarcastic please put something like /j or /s.

And side note, please don’t fetishise my autism. I hope you wouldn’t even think about doing that but this is a disorder that affects me everyday and will affect me forever. And please don’t pity me, that’ll just make me feel awkward lol. So yeah don’t do that lmao.

Just thought you guys should know. Love yous. 💕

#saffy’s delights #🌹#important #actually autistic #autism

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honeylikesyanderes · 5 months ago

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thinking about knox blackmailing a (slightly) difficult darling (with a little help from bennett ofc!)

---------------------------------------------------------

(not proofread, sorry if its messy, its like 11pm already oml. 18+ mdni, insert everything else i normally say here. i'm going to bed.)

''you see all this? i can make it all go away. just come back home. i'll leave the back door open for you.''

knox had done it again. had skipped date night just because of another stupid work meeting. his obsession with money was getting out of hand. and quite frankly, you had had enough of it.

meeting after meeting, excuse after excuse. it had started to pile up, and you were already fed up. it was your anniversary today and he couldn't even bother to send a text that he would be late, or that he wouldn't fucking show up. you glance at the wall in your shared apartment. 9:41pm it reads. still no call or text. you decide to clear the table and the decorations you prepared before going straight to bed.

morning comes fairly quickly, and you see knox asleep beside you in bed. he probably came in sometime during the night. you make breakfast as usual, and in true knox fashion, he comes downstairs, drinks coffee and leaves for work. he does remember to kiss your forehead, and say goodbye; but no word about yesterday's late coming and most definitely no comment about your missed anniversary.

the third day after your anniversary is when you decided that enough was enough. knox did not show up at all last night. he returned in the morning at 9am, sliding into your shared bed without a word. your sad, yet worried stare met with nothing but soft snores from his mouth. that was the day you decided to leave.

it started subtly. the packing, the (attempted) discussions with him to tell him how you felt neglected, that were futile. knox was just too busy for you. too busy for his darling. it was unfortunate.

''i'm an accountant'' he would say ''you just wouldn't understand, darling''

on the seventh day after your anniversary, knox comes home to an empty house for the first time in years. first thing that he noticed was that your special mug wasn't on the rack anymore. then he noticed your fluffy bunny slippers weren't by the door as they usually were. why wasnt the stove warm? didn't you eat today? maybe you microwaved takeout? no the microwave isnt warm either. he calls for you. no answer. maybe you're wearing headphones. he trudges up the stairs to your shared bedroom. your side of the closet is empty. your favourite lava lamp is gone from your bedside. his darling was nowhere to be seen. you were gone.

at first, knox cant believe it. his mind races, chest pounds, vomit starts to rise in his oesophagus. a million and one thoughts flow through his head at once. then he takes a deep breath and grounds himself. he pulls out his phone. he'll just call you. ask what's happened, say sorry and its fixed. you'll come back right, yes? first time he calls, it doesn't go through. same with the second try, third try and fourth try. you had blocked him. he checks his messages, and sees you've left him a voice message. he plays it. he learns that you truly have left him. he learns the reason why. he attempts to message you, but the message doesn't go through either. the vomit starts to rise in his throat again.

suddenly, he has an idea. he drafts an email. explaining that he didn't mean to ignore you (he's the senior accountant for the biggest firm in the city, and the financial report for 2024 is due soon), and he didn't mean to miss your anniversary (he had deadlines babe, surely you understand? he'll make it up to you, just come home first). he apologises earnestly and sends it. hopeful for your reply. alas, there is none.

day after day, week after week, month after month, knox sends you an email. every glorious day, you receive a brand new email of knox apologising and begging for forgiveness. usually, you just read them and ignore them, but today's email was a little weird. ''don't make me do this the hard way, doll'' was written at the end. ''is he threatening me?'' you wonder. little did you know, the worst was yet to come.

another week goes by, and you receive another email from knox; this time, with an attachment.

it was a video of you? it looked like you from a couple of years ago. an old video from your social media that you posted ages ago. but it couldn't be you. not with the tons of expletives and offensive things spilling from your mouth. things that would get you socially shunned even in the most liberal of places. things that you never truly said. it was doctored.

suddenly, your phone starts to buzz. nonstop. incessantly. the video had been posted on your social media. the comments and dms begin to flow like wine at a bad wedding. things had begun to escalate. you attempt to delete the video, but to no avail. you turn back to the email from knox, and the pieces start to fall into place.

''my dearest darling,'' the email said ''i know you may still harbour resentment towards me for causing our relationship to collapse and for my inexcusable neglect; and to that, i must apologise once again. however, i need you. as fishes require gills to live underwater, so i require you to continue to exist in this world. i have begged and grovelled at your feet, yet you have not indulged me, so i have decided to take matters into my own hands. attached is a video of you saying not so great things. notwithstanding, it has been uploaded to all your social media accounts. do not attempt to delete it, it will not work. do not call the police or involve any law enforcement or things will begin to get worse for you. my love, i didn't want to do this, but you forced my hand. you see all this? this mess? i can make it all go away. just come back home. i'll leave the back door open for you. i hope to see you soon, my love.''

what is your choice darling? go back to knox? or face social notoriety and isolation forever?

(looking for the characters mentioned here? check this!)

#honey's anons #yandere oc #honey answers asks #yandere blog #yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere office #yandere #male yandere #obsessive yandere #my oc knox #yandere imagines #my oc bennett #yan corp

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baejax-the-great · 3 months ago

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This might be me just being fucking old now (and fucking stupid and out of touch), but I've had some perplexing interactions on tumblr that I don't know what to think of.

Tumblr has tons of people with ADHD and/or autism. Personally, I have ADHD, many of my friends do, many of my friends have autism. I'm also older and more experienced than a lot of people on tumblr. So, a lot of times when I see someone say something flat out rude, I assume ignorance over malice. And on occasion, I have attempted to tell the person that they were being rude in the hopes that they might realize how they are coming off and correct.

This has not once worked out for me.

I know that accusing people of being assholes rarely goes over well, so I try to keep my language tempered. "Hey, just so you know, this thing you said can be considered rude because of x." No accusations, no implying intent on their behalf, just a factual "some people find this rude."

Universally, the response to this has been, "You're wrong."

When these rude comments have been directed at me, I have tried a more direct approach of "Hey, that's a really inappropriate thing to say to me," and I've still gotten hit back with either "Nuh uh" or just that I'm an sensitive asshole. Given that I'm the expert on what is appropriate to say to me, I don't think you can really argue with me on this one.

The most egregious example was when I made a post complaining about sleeping badly, and someone I've never spoken to directly replied with, "Congrats, you're one step closer to getting heart disease!" My assumption is that this person is 15 and just read this in a science book, but jfc that is not something you say to someone. It simply is not. You do not glibly tell someone complaining of a common and often difficult to control problem (insomnia) that they are causing their own death. So I replied that this was inappropriate, and they replied, "but it's true."

Just for the record, truth rarely has any bearing on appropriateness. It also isn't fucking true. There are correlations between sleep and heart disease, but it's bad reasoning to then assume one person's one bad night of sleep gave them some stepwise increase in the development of heart disease. It's just wrong and frankly a cruel thing to say to someone.

Like I said, I have ADHD. I have spent my whole life speaking before I think, and though age and experience has helped with this, I still do it. I will be rude in the future. I will slight people I didn't mean to slight and didn't want to slight. When someone tells me, hey this thing you said sucked, my kneejerk reaction is to fucking apologize because intention didn't matter if what they understood was me insulting them. Even if the misunderstanding is truly on their end, I still fucking apologize because I don't want people to feel bad because of me*.

It is worth considering other ways of interpreting your words, especially given that we are online, in text, a mix of cultures and age groups. If someone interprets your words differently than you, it is worth thinking, hey, wait, what if they have a point? It costs you precisely nothing.

This reaction I'm getting where people say, "Actually, this super rude thing I did isn't rude because I don't feel it's rude personally, so whatever" is so bizarre to me. Do you want to have positive interactions with other people? Do you want friends online?

I shouldn't have to make a poll to get hundreds of other people to agree with me for you to think, "Maybe there is another interpretation of what I said that comes off as fucking rude. Maybe other people really can't read my mind and know my intentions and that my heart is pure. Maybe my heart being pure doesn't inoculate me from having my mouth be garbage sometimes."

Obviously the lesson here is for me to stop trying to educate and just block, block, block. I'm not these people's parents. I was an teacher/mentor for a while, and like I said, I have a lot of experience with people with ADHD and autism who are sometimes a bit late to learn a social cue, and lord knows I could have used someone explaining things to me in plain language when I was younger, but randos on the internet clearly aren't asking me for this service. I don't know.

*but you know, maybe I didn't immediately apologize when I was younger. Maybe that's something that kicked in with age, and I don't know what age I realized, hey other people's feelings matter more than my intent when it comes to communication because they can only know what I've said and how I've said it and where I've said it and not the entire contents of my heart (nor should they fuckin have to).

#I am so old now #they need to invent old folks tumblr I think #and I'm not even that old and I keep thinking like #jfc am I going to be this old and out of touch for the rest of my life

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skys-archive · 8 months ago

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Hello fellow psychotic people and those who experience delusions and paranoia, please read to keep yourself safe /gen

I saw this post, but the screenshots were not described and I felt there were too many of them for me to describe myself in a way that would be helpful. (I'm not completely sure how image id'ing works on here)

I wanted to put in plain text for any visually impaired/blind people who also suffer with psychosis.

There is an account on here, @top-secret-replier who is spreading ominous replies, reblogs, and posts. It's meant to just be strange and fun for people during spooky season, but this can be unsafe for those struggling with psychosis.

The message typically reads something along the lines of, "hello, I am a top secret finder! You WILL see this message again. The Spread™ has begun".

I understand that this started as fun and games, but for those dealing with psychosis this can be incredibly dangerous. The implications of an unknown threat can really set off paranoia or psychotic episodes, and many of us are threats to ourselves and/or others when this happens.

Yes, this is just supposed to be silly. But it is very, VERY difficult to filter this out of our feed. There is not a universal tag, and this person is not the only one doing it so blocking them is also not helpful.

The op of the post I linked, @halo-fourteen reached out to the person who started this and tried to explain, but they were very dismissive and did not take it seriously.

Please spread this to keep psychotic people safe this Halloween season, and maybe send them an ask yourself. Maybe if enough people express concern they will stop.

For my fellow psychotic people, I understand this can be incredibly difficult, and sometimes no amount of telling you that it's just a stupid prank will keep you from spiraling. But for all of you, do everything you can to keep yourself safe, self soothe, distract, whatever helps you the most. I'm wishing all of you the best 💜

#psychosis #delusions #paranoia #disability #mental health #internet safety #be safe everyone

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rogersideup · 2 years ago

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Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter fourteen

Cinnamon Roll

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Cardboard Castle Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Word Count: 7,758

Warnings: Please read. My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression. This chapter contains dialog and storytelling of the loss of a pregnancy. If this is a topic that weighs heavy on your heart and is too difficult to read, please skip to the next chapter. 🤍

The whole of the month you got to spend with Steve in Greenwood completely unapologetically was as magical as it could've been. Perfect was an understatement.

It felt like good stepping stones to really get life back on track after the blip. Although you had already gotten a good grip before your arrest, motivation to do better now that you had Steve back at your side was at an all time high.

He got to see all the work you did on the bakery while he was gone, and needless to say the hours you'd devoted worked really well. Business had never been better, and operations have never been smoother.

Though he did have to go back to New York for a little while before he could officially make the move over to the house next to yours, his absence was nothing like the first time.

This time, you knew he was alive and well. The two of your texted all day long, and would have conversations on the phone for hours on end about everything under the sun and nothing at all.

You'd send each other pictures of what you were doing throughout the day. Coffees in the morning, lunch with the Avengers, cakes you decorated that day, dinner with the girls, his fitting for a new suit, your outfit for that one bridal shower.

And in the loneliest hours, your sunflowers would glow. Sometimes if he was having trouble falling asleep in his bed all alone, he'd press his watch to see if you were awake.

Since there was a time difference, your necklace usually lit up around the time you were just getting home from work, so you were happy to make his sunflower glow. The two of you even made a little code.

Once was to say hi, a simple message to let each other know you we're thinking of them. Twice in a row was I miss you, three times was I love you.

Usually at night he would send one to say hi, and make sure you were there, and you would send one back. Then he'd send two to tell you he missed you, and you would send two back. Lastly he would send three, and you'd send three back.

It made you smile every single day. Such a simple, and easy way to know he was always with you even when he physically wasn't anywhere near.

Since he had been gone for two months, and you sill had a month and a half without him, you also took the time to really strengthen your social circle. With the loss of Georgia as your best friend, you found it a good time to really focus on other people in your life who meant a lot to you.

You felt comfortable with your friends now, confiding in them felt easier, hanging out with them felt like less effort, and every day you just felt better.

Steve did a lot to help you find acceptance in the blip, and in turn, he found his own as well. He reminded you that it was okay to start moving on from what was lost and start living your life to the fullest again. And that you did.

You still missed Georgia, especially this time of year. With a particularly traumatic event anniversary looming upon you and rapidly approaching, you found yourself wanting to knock on her door to talk about it. She was the only one who really knew the whole story, the only one that showed up for you that day when you needed someone.

Even though you desperately wanted to talk about it, somehow you couldn't let the words roll off your tongue to anyone. Not to Steve, not to your friends, and your therapist was blipped. Unfortunately, a lot of people turned to therapy after the loss of half the people in the universe which mean the waitlist to get a therapist in your insurance network was miles long.

You were close with your friends now, even best friends with some, but everyone's lives were so chaotic nowadays that you didn't want to trauma dump on them. And sweet Steve, states away in a city that was busy and a job that was even busier while packing up his stuff and arranging to move far away.

Deep down you knew if you told him he'd feel guilty for being so far, and once he knew, you knew he'd look at you through different eyes. Perhaps confiding from thousands of miles away would be easier, he'd had more space to process, and you wouldn't have to look him in the eye when you'd tell him why you've been so sad lately. But maybe from thousands of miles away, he didn't even have to know.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was burden anyone with your emotions. You didn't want to exist loudly in a room during a time that made you want to slip by completely forgotten.

And quite honestly, letting the words leave your mouth and settle into his ears made what happened to you even more real. It wasn't just a tale between you, your last lover, and Georgia.

It would be a real tragedy you'd have to face once more, over and over and over again.

Every morning you'd wake up and the date was displayed proudly on your phone screen, and every day counted down until the grand finale of your grief. Every day closer to the date was a day closer to putting that date behind you.

So, you decided to just be strong. Two more days and it would all be over again until next year. You'd put a brave face on, go to work to distract yourself, come home and go on a walk to distract yourself, dinner and a TV show to distract yourself, then go to sleep until it was time to do it again the next day.

The plan was working, in fact it had worked so well that you never allowed yourself time to process any of your emotions until it hit you like a tone of bricks the day before the anniversary.

It happened mid afternoon while at work while reading a custom cookie request for a baby's first birthday party. Wild one. Jungle animals, pretty monstera leaves, number ones with the little boy's name on them.

A knot formed in your throat faster than you could swallow it away, and tears filled your eyes and the need to cry stung your sinuses. The way you abruptly stood up from in front of the computer and announced you had to go scared pretty much every employee in the store at the time, but your body told you this was an emergency. It was like the building was on fire and every nerve was bouncing around in your brain telling you that exiting was your only means of survival.

You cried on your way home, you cried all the way up the stairs, you cried until you could change into comfortable clothes and get into bed. You laid there in silence and starred up at the ceiling for awhile. Day two of your period happening to fall during this time seemed like the universe laughing in your face. More pain, and heightened emotions. The palm of your right hand over your lower stomach, the palm of your left curled around your necklace.

Everything in you wanted to squeeze it to send Steve a little glow, you even wanted to call him to hear his voice for even just the slightest bit of comfort you could get, but once again, you just couldn't.

Steve was a smart man. He'd know a message from you around this time of day was out of the ordinary, he'd ask you about it, and you wouldn't be able to get yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't tell him what happened yet, still not ready for it to be true.

So you got out of bed and flipped through the hangers in your closet until you found his hoodie. You let it cover and warm your body like the big hug he'd give you if he was here right now, then crawled right back into bed. One hand on your lower stomach, the other clutching the sunflower.

You thought about him for awhile, how he'd react if you just doubled down and talked to him about what happened. The biggest part of you was terrified he'd be left feeling differently about you in the worst way possible, like telling him about the way a past man in your life had treated your body would make you unfavorable for him. But the smaller part of you knew he'd speak comforting words to you over the phone, and support you in anyway he could from so far away. He'd remind you that he'd be back sooner than you knew, he'd offer to fly over the moment he could. You really didn't want to bother him.

Fuck. You missed him. Okay, he gave you the necklace for a reason, you should just use it.

You squeezed it twice. I miss you.

You observed it in the palm of your hand for a while, waiting to see if he noticed you had sent him a little message.

Then, it lit up twice. I miss you too.

A long exhale passed your lips in an effort to take some calm breaths to convince yourself everything was okay. It's been three years now, that's 1,095 days you've survived since than, you have every means necessary to make it 1,096.

Then, your necklace lit up three times. I love you.

You squeezed it three times back. I love you too.

That little reminder was enough to snap yourself out of it for a while. You watched a movie in bed, took a shower, then called it a night early around 7:30pm. But you couldn't sleep, your mind was racing way too fast alongside your heart. A little while later, your phone rang beside you and you didn't even open your eyes to pick it up, you already knew who it was.

"Hi, baby" Steve's voice filled your room.

"Hi, love. How are you?" You asked, trying to sound normal. It didn't work.

"I'm good!" He answered. "I called you so you didn't get scared."

"Scared?" You questioned, throughly confused.

"Your front door is about to open, but it's fine. Don't worry about it." He said.

"...my front door? Is about to open? And I shouldn't be scared?" You reiterated.

"Yeah, it's totally fine. Pay it no mind." He confirmed.

You could hear the lock and knob rattling from downstairs, then the familiar sound of the door opening and closing.

"Okaaaaayy? Do I want to know who's in my house right now or should I just continue to pretend like this is totally fine and normal?"

"No it's definitely totally fine and 100% normal." He reassured. "Hey, why are all the lights off right now?"

"Are you in my house or is this like... some sort of Avengers secret spy thing and something is about to try and kill me but it's going to be fine because I'm on the phone with you?" You asked, heart rate increasing by the second.

"Everything is fine, including the footsteps up your staircase." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Steve..."

"I'm coming in"

You bedroom door knob turned before it opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Steve in cozy clothes with a backpack on his back and flowers in his hand.

"Surprise!" He greeted you with a big smile, and sleepy eyes.

"Steve! What the h- why are you here?!" You happily jumped out of bed and practically tackled him in the biggest hug you could manage.

"Cause I missed you!" He enthused, keeping his balance despite how much force you had used to knock into him.

"I missed you too!" You squeezed him tight. A hug from him was exactly what you needed right now.

“That conference thing next week got canceled and I had nothing on the schedule until then. I was already contemplating it, then you said you missed me so I hopped on the Jet and now here I am!"

You giggled before rocking up on your tippy toes to reach his lips for a kiss. "I'm so happy you're here!"

"I was just going to come in and walk up but I really didn't want to get the police called on me today." He explained.

"Yeah, that definitely would've scared the shit out of me." You agreed with a smile as you got a good look at his face. He looked tired, his eyes were sleepy and swollen, his shoulders and posture was relaxed, and his voice was raspier than usual. "You seem tired, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine!" He assured you. "I did some agility training this morning and it kicked my butt. I'm just tired and sore."

"You? Sore?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately." Steve grinned, then he noticed your face. Your nose and eyes were red, they lacked that usual sparkle he was used to. The smile he loved so much seemed like it was the first time it occurred all day long. "Woah, Sunflower what's wrong?"

You watched his face change from happy to concerned in a split second. He set the flowers down on the dresser, and slipped his backpack off before setting it against the wall. "Oh, nothing I'm okay."

"At what point are we going to learn that I'll never believe that?" Steve denied your claim.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down on the edge of your bed and pat his lap, prompting you to sit. Unfortunately, even with him right in front of you, you still couldn't get yourself to talk about it. Only half the truth was going to have to make due for now.

Sitting sideways on his lap, you hid your face away in the crook of his neck and let his strong arms squeeze you tight and support your body as your curled up into a little ball. Right here, hiding away against his body and behind the protection of his arms was where you felt safest. You wished in that moment that you could spend the rest of today and all of tomorrow here.

"Didn't even realized how much I needed this until right now." You confessed, melting into him him butter.

"Talk to me, Sweetheart. What's going on?" Steve asked, pressing kisses to your forehead.

You sighed, feeling bad that this was supposed to be a happy surprise but you're ruining it for him. "Sorry, just- hard day at work, cramps, hormones making the hard day even harder." You explained.

"Really?! Didn't you just get your period like..." he counted on his fingers. "Four weeks ago?"

"Cruel isn't it?" He forced more smiles out of you.

"So cruel." Steve agreed. "What happened at work?"

"Super busy as usual, I just kind've felt like I was drowning all day and unable to keep up."

"I'm sorry, Baby." Steve pouted before kissing your cheek. He had a strong suspicion that there was more happening beneath the surface, but he also understood that it was getting late and his presence was unexpected. You probably needed more time to warm back up. "How can I make you feel better?"

"This is more than enough." You smiled, squeezing him tightly with your arms once more. "Thanks for coming."'

"Anything for you" He squeezed you back.

Since it was already pretty late and you were both tired, you got into bed and cuddled up close. Once again, you were amazed by Steve's ability to be by your side when you needed him most, even if he might not have realized how impeccable his timing was. His heart beating calmly and slowly against your palm did wonders to ground you, and the loving exchange of words and slow kisses calmed your mind from running too far ahead of itself.

Steve eventually drifted off, but sleep never arrived for you. Most of the night was spent staring up at the ceiling and holding Steve in the embrace he subconsciously had you in.

He had woken up a few times in the night completely unnoticed by you, or maybe you just didn't have the energy to acknowledge he was awake, but each time he caught you with a hand on your stomach and your eyes glued to the ceiling. At one point he even tried to help you. He trapped you in his arms and you hid your face into the crook of his neck once more, your legs tangled up with his and his warm hand cradled the back of your head. You kissed his neck in appreciation and really tried your hardest to turn your brain off.

Then, when Steve woke up the next morning you were out like a light. Your body was completely on top of his, and so relaxed you might as well have been a piece cooked spaghetti. He stayed with you for a while, making sure to massage your back and play with your hair, but he realized after a while that there were no signs you were anywhere near ready to wake up and function for the day. As carefully as he would diffuse a bomb, he slipped out from underneath you and tucked you back in super tight before kissing you goodbye and going for a run.

By the time he finished a disgusting amount of miles and actually tuckered himself out, he showered and made his way back to you. Carrying his feet up the stairs, he found you dressed for the day, hair done in a cute little clip, sneakers on your feet, but also slouched over with your head in your hands.

The sound of the door opening alerted you to pick yourself up, but it was no use. You couldn't even hide that you were miserable.

"Good morning, baby." You stuck your arms out for a hug.

"Morning" He leaned over and gave you one without question, before squatting down in front of you. "Still not feeling good?"

His face was full of so much sympathy it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, but that wasn't an option right now. Not when your girls at the bakery called for help even though you blocked today off just for yourself. "Is it really that obvious?"

"You look beautiful," He kindly smiled as he took his hands into yours. "but you don't seem like yourself, and I can tell you didn't sleep much last night."

"I didn't, that's for sure."

"You have to go to work?" He questioned sadly.

You nodded with regret and apology. He flew all the way here just to see you, but all he got was the worst version of you and now none of you at all. "I'm sorry, the girls asked me to come in, they're drowning in work just like I was yesterday."

"No, don't be sorry." Steve reassured you, his kind smile persisting. "If you need help with anything just let me know, alright? You know I'm happy to help."

"Thank you, Stevie." This time you smiled. "I feel really bad that you came all this way to see me and all you've gotten is...this." You referred to yourself.

"Hey, don't say that." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not here to only love you when you're at your best, Sunflower. I love you just as much like this as I would if you were happy and bouncing off the walls."

"I love you so much." You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He kissed your cheek, then you pulled away. "You know if you ever want to talk about anything I'm here for you, judgement free right?"

"I know, and I appreciate that." You nodded, contemplating your words and desperately trying to find the right ones. Remembering the last time your trauma caused you to feel too scared to talk to him, a light clicked in your head when you remembered he thought it was his fault. "I'm going to be honest and say that today is going to be a hard day, but if you just give me until tomorrow I promise I'll be better."

"So there is something wrong?" He questioned gently, your hands shook in his hold so he rubbed the back of them with his thumbs.

You nodded. "I'm sorry. I just- I don't know how to talk about it. And I have to go to work for a while so I don't even want to open up a whole can of worms right before I have to go. It's been so busy I feel like I can't even breathe, plus with all of this it just feels like everybody wants too much from me-"

"Hey, it's okay, just take a deep breath." Steve reminded you. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I'm not going to make you. There's no timeline, you don't have to be better by tomorrow."

"I'm sorry" You apologized again, taking a deep breath.

"You're okay" He squeezed your hands. "I love you, and I want to support you the best way I can."

"I love you too. I'll see you when I get home?"

"I'll be here" Steve reassured you.

Work was fine for a little while, you were able to completely shut off the brain noise as you helped catch up on cake orders and played barista in the front. But a few hours before closing there was a huge rush, and it never slowed down until you had to cut off the customers from coming in at exactly closing time. Then there was so much to do that you couldn't even think about anything happening in your personal life if you wanted to. There were a million different things happening at once, each of your employees had a million questions for you, each question distracted you from every task from the long list you so desperately needed to complete.

You got yelled at by more than one customer, and it definitely wasn't a pleasant experience. Words of how you're a terrible person with worse business ethic were spat at you, reminders that you're a bitch and you lost customers over not serving chocolate chip cookies after closing time.

One woman even made a comment to you after calling you incompetent that made you hold back a laugh from deep within your soul. "I came all the way here to get the same treats Captain America eats and this is what I get? Steve Rogers would make sure everyone in line got something instead of cutting people off and sending them home empty handed."

You could've explained that every single one of your employees was already putting in more hours than normal. They were all exhausted, on overtime, and you were trying your hardest to not ware them all out more than you already have. You could've said the bake case was almost empty anyways, there wasn't even enough to serve everyone in line. You even could have even given them one of the last few pastries in the case to make up for the inconvenience, because really you did feel bad.

But instead, you condemned her for being rude to you. You stood your ground and asked her to leave. Normally you wouldn't stick up for yourself like that in the bakery, you always had a professional response to everything and any situation that was thrown your way. But there was an anger bubbling inside you since you woke up this morning.

Three years ago the universe took a lot from you, and today when you just needed to give back to yourself, you were met with nothing but people taking more from you.

Steve was at home waiting for your time, the girls needed your effort, the customers needed more than you could offer them. They called you names, you worked yourself to the bone, and you were harboring guilt all dealing with a plethora of your own issues. So yes, you yelled back at her.That wasn't something you were going to feel bad about. She had it coming.

However, the anger from the day boiled inside you as you closed the bakery and made your way home. Saying you were overwhelmed and overstimulated was an understatement, and knowing you had an opportunity for just a few moments of alone time was the only thing holding you together.

You rushed into your house like a tornado, the front door slammed behind you in your residual gusts of wind. Not even bothering to lock it, you bolted up the stairs, straight through your bedroom and right into your bathroom where you subconsciously slammed the door once more. The bath was filling with steamy hot water and bubbles from your favorite soap in an instant.

Being so laser focused on a long hot bath, and being so stuck in your own anger made you miss the way Steve was sitting on your couch. You missed him locking the door behind you with big wide eyes, you missed him calling after you, you missed the way you had slammed not only your bedroom door, but also your bathroom door right in his face as your ripped through your house.

Quite honestly, Steve was feeling deeply concerned. He had never seen you anything but quiet and gentle before. Even on your saddest days you walked gently as if the ground was made of wispy cotton candy, you moved calmly, everything you did was quiet. But this? This was like the Tasmanian Devil from looney toons had possessed his girlfriend. This had him timidly knocking on the bathroom door before he entered, which you also somehow seemed to miss.

He poked his head in but didn't dare to enter. You were ripping your shirt off and kicking your shoes off your feet at the same time. "Everything okay?" He asked quietly.

"Jesus Chris-"You shrieked and jumped out of your skin. "What the fuck- dude. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I'm sorry, I thought you heard me." Steve defended himself. "I was calling after you, I knocked on the door."

"Okay well, obviously I didn't hear you." You snapped, immediately feeling guilty but also feeling completely unable to take down your attitude down a notch.

His eyebrows raised, feeling surprised by your reaction towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Im so tired of being asked that as if I'm some ticking time bomb." As you continued undressing, you glared at him. You fucking hated that question, especially at this moment when it was very obvious that you were not. But, you could tell that your defensiveness was making him defensive, and that made you all the more anxious but you just couldn't stop. "But i'm just peachy! Thanks for asking!"

"I'm not what you're mad at." He reminded you. "I'm not the enemy."

He was right, but telling by his tone he was definitely not happy with you. "Can I just get some time to myself?" You took some deep breaths, but your tone was still putting up its fight. "Maybe like an hour? Please?"

Though Steve knew you were going through something, this was the first time the two of you even had anything close to an argument. He was trying not to feel hurt but he couldn't get Georgia's words out of his head. They played over and over again like a record with a deep scratch in its grooves.

She'll love you so hard, but shut you out when things get emotionally tough in her head. So much so that it'll suffocate you.

"You're shutting me out." Steve mumbled. He didn't know if it was to himself or to you, but either way it slipped passed his lips.

"I'm not shutting you out, I just need an hour to pull myself together because I can't regulate my emotions right now and I don't want to hurt your feelings by saying something I don't mean." You explained, pulling your hair up into a bun while your heart raced out of your chest.

"Should I not have come?" Steve asked, hurt in his eyes.

"What?" You asked, slowly remembering something you had overheard but completely blocked out from your memory.

"I feel like I shouldn't have come here." He said again, this time he hurt your feelings.

That one line from him set you right back into the way things used to be with your ex. You shut down your own feelings to protect yourself, and started pushing him away. "Are you feeling suffocated?"

His head snapped up and his eyes burned holes into your body as you sank into the bath. "I'm sorry I don't understa-"

"If you feel suffocated you can just go home, breathe some fresh air somewhere I'm not." You spat, trying not to cry.

"You heard that conversation with Georgia?" He asked, finally piecing together the puzzle.

"My window was open, I had no choice." You explained. "I know that she probably planted a little bug in your head. You've probably been worried about it every day since she said that to you."

"Sunflower you can't just-"

"Can't what?" You spat, arms resting on the side of the tub. "Tell you I'm not in a good place and I need a day to just feel better again? Communicate that I need some alone time to avoid exactly what's happening right now? Tell you I already feel bad about how you came here just for me to be in a not so great mental state?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out so it snapped shut.

"I'm trying Steve. I'm trying to be better, trying to not be so... suffocating but right now I'm giving all I have. This is it. And if it's not enough, you can just go home and we can deal with this later. I have nothing left."

"I'll leave if you want me to, but I can't get the Jet out of the hanger until the morning." He grumbled.

"The Jet?" You questioned, the cracks in your heart shattered even deeper in your chest.

"You told me to go home."

You chuckled as to disguise the way your heat shattered at the confirmation of your worst fear. Greenwood didn’t feel like home to him, and you were holding him back in the small town when his heart beloved in a big city. "Well I thought we were both in agreement that your home was one door over."

Steve immediately realized the damage he had done and instantly felt terrible for misunderstanding you. The guilt squeezed his chest making it hard to breathe, now he was the one who needed some time to himself just to reassess the damage that had been done and formulate a way to properly fix it.

"It is but I thought you meant-" The words continued escaping him. He couldn't even formulate a proper sentence anymore. Honestly, each of his words dug him a deeper grave that he had to lay in so he just decided to shut up. That's probably what you wanted from the moment he accidentally scared you in the first place.

"If you don't feel like this is your home, it doesn't have to be." You scolded him. "And if I'm suffocating you, you don't have to stay here. No one is forcing you to put up with any of this."

"Yet I'm still here, aren't I?" He pointed out.

"I need an hour." You firmly set your boundary. "Minimum."

"That's fine. I'm just... I'm gonna go home." Steve mumbled.

"Guess I'll find out where that is later." You said your peace before letting the whole of your tired body sink into the hot water.

Steve watched your lip wobble and your eyes close as you settled into the tub. One single tear fell down your face as you took some deep breaths and waited for the sound of the door to slam shut. It never did, instead there were footsteps towards you and the gentlest of kisses on the crown of your head before he left and the door clicked quietly behind him.

You used a little battery powered remote to turn off all the bathroom lights, and let the tears fall quietly as you kept your eyes closed and made peace with not being okay for a while.

The warm water, small dark room, and a cozy scent felt like the best sanctuary away from the craziness of the world. The warmth and pressure of the deep water felt like the hug you really needed all day, and the lack of stimulants made you feel as though you could catch your breath again.

Meanwhile, Steve went home and set a timer on his phone for one hour and one minute. If you needed a minimum of an hour, that's what he would give you before letting you know what he so desperately needed you to hear.

Just as your mind relaxed and you felt like you had a good grip on your emotions again, Steve's alarm went off.

The completely dark bathroom illuminated with a soft golden glow, even with your eyes closed you could see it through your eyelids.

Slowly opening them, you counted three lights. I love you.

Your hand moved up from its spot on your lower stomach, and gripped the sunflower on your necklace.

You squeezed it three times. I love you too.

Watching his watch light up gave him enough courage to get off his ass and actually execute the very plan he thought of the moment he stepped out of your front door.

A little while later, your bath ran cold and your eyes grew heavy so got out and dressed yourself. You dragged your heavy feet down the stairs for a calming cup of tea to help you sleep, they shuffled on the hardwood floors of the first level and stopped in place when you saw a sleepy and sad Steve on your couch.

His blank stare at the tv was distracted by your entrance, so he sat up and started explaining himself. "You told me to go home, but my home is wherever you are so I settled for the couch."

Everything in you ached, and you hated every second of the little argument you just had.

"You don't have to talk about what's happening, and we don't even have to talk about what happened upstairs until you feel better, but I don't want you to be alone." Steve explained, keeping his voice mellow and calm.

In that moment, you surrendered. Your white flag waved high up on a pole, and you chucked all your fears out of the window.

What happened to you was real whether people knew or not, and you and Steve were already on a pretty rocky road. Whether this would patch up the potholes or open up a sinkhole didn't really matter to you anymore. You were just desperate to not feel so alone inside of your own head.

So you walked towards him and dove into his arms. Much like he did last night, he held you safely against his warm body without question.

No longer asking if you were okay, he just let you be sad. He knew now that not everything needed a solution, but you definitely needed support.

You stayed there for a little while, finding the strength to let him in while simultaneously basking in his body heat. Really, he thought you weren't going to speak another word until tomorrow morning. But when he heard your quiet voice tucked between his neck and shoulder he almost couldn't believe it was coming from you.

"Three years ago my ex shoved me down the stairs." You started. After that you almost stopped, you could've just left it at that. You even waited a few moments to see if he had a response to that, but it seemed like he was more so waiting for you to continue. "We had a really bad argument right in the hallway, well, it started in the bathroom and he led me to the hallway. Something I said really pissed him off and he shoved me backwards. I lost my balance, fell down every single step."

Steve's arms wrapped tighter around you, unsure of when or if he was supposed to say anything to you. But some arm rubs seemed to do the trick as you settled deeper into his body and opened your heart to him.

"When he recalls the story, he said I tripped over my own feet and for a little while I believed him." You added.

"We're you okay?" Steve practically whispered.

"We got into that really bad argument because he had gotten me pregnant on accident" You revealed, feeling nervous to the point of nausea.

Once again, he didn't know how to respond to that, but he let out a little grimace hoping that where he thought this story was going would end up a thousand times better than what was in his head.

"It was an accident but I was excited, I always wanted to be a mom and I knew I could do it whether he wanted to be present in it's little life or not. He wanted me to terminate the pregnancy pretty early on, but I convinced him to let me take charge. I would do everything on my own, he's never have to lift a single finger, that's what we agreed on." You explained. "I was 12 weeks along and we found out it was a boy. I was so happy, but he just... blew up. He said I was trapping him- intentionally trying to ruining his life because I had everything I wanted in the palm of my hand. It was that same day I just so happen to trip over my own feet."

"I'm so sorry." Steve already knew this had a bad ending, he couldn't even brace himself for it.

"Baby lost his heartbeat before I could even make it to Greenwood Medical. Georgia was out of town when it happened, I didn't want to upset my mom with the news and loss of a baby in the same phone call, and my ex said if I needed to deal with the consequences of my own actions so I was alone in the hospital room for four days after an emergency extraction and sustaining a plethora of other injuries until Georgia could come him." You continued the story. "She brought me home from the hospital and took care of me night and day for a whole week before convincing me to file a police report. But the second he found out that I was trying to take legal action against him, he packed all his stuff and left. We couldn't even find him to serve a restraining order against him after that, nobody even knew he was in Arizona until a year after he left."

"When he was found, was a restraining order served?" Steve questioned.

You nodded. "I'm usually okay. I can think about the baby without getting sad, I remember those 12 weeks through rose colored glasses even though I was so terribly sick every day. But this is the one time of year I can't beat it. I get angry that it happened, I just wanted to track him down and scream in his face, I just feel mad at the world when I see happy moms with their kids. And this year, my period just feels like a cruel reminder that I'm definitely not pregnant."

Steve kissed your head as he tried to find the right words to make it better, but nothing could. Quite honestly, if he had been through anything like that, he was sure he wouldn't be as put together as you were regardless of the argument you two had, and the fact that you felt like you were falling apart.

A lot of situations clicked into place through your admission. Your fear of the hospital, your subtle reaction to him asking if you wanted kids, your hand that never seemed to leave it's spot on your tummy while you stared up at the ceiling last night.

"I usually spend this day alone, but everyone needed a lot from me today. Work was stressful and customers were yelling at me when I already had very little to offer the world. I didn't mean to shut you out, and I definitely didn't mean to be rude. I just... snapped and I'm really sorry." You finally apologized feeling so much lighter already. "You didn't deserve my attitude, and you weren't what I was mad about."

"It's okay, I knew something was wrong and I let my own hard head get in the way." He accepted. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not really hearing what you were saying."

"I completely understand, if you didn't know I get that my behavior probably seems completely irrational and dramatic." You sympathized. "I think you handled it pretty well."

"Nothing about your behavior today has been dramatic, and I definitely didn't handle that well." He denied. "But I know now, and I'll do better next time. I'm so sorry that happened to you, Sunflower. I don't even know what to say, but I'm sure you've heard every bullshit greeting card invalidating response under the sun already."

"Oh trust me, I know I'm young and I could just pop out another one whenever I want to." You chuckled at the accuracy of his statement. "Don't worry, I know Jesus or god or whoever is up there has a baby ready for me whenever I'm really ready to be a mom."

Steve physically cringed at those two statements, "Is there anything I can do for you to make this day better?"

You shook your head with an artificial grin. "Your patience and understanding has been more than enough."

He kissed the top of you head, and thought long and hard about words he could speak to bring you comfort, but you spoke again before he did.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my pregnancy sooner. I wasn't trying to hide it or keep it a secret, it's just.... It's hard to talk about. And I found that when I told people I was always met with these pitiful looks and sentiments that always made me feel worse than when I just kept it all bottled up. It's also something that I definitely would've been punished for in the past and I'm just trying really hard to unlearn all of the fear that comes along with rebuilding healthy relationships. I'm never trying to push you away when things get hard or shut you out, sometimes I just get scared and I don't know how to handle it."

"Well I think you're doing a really good job." Steve softly grinned down at you. His praise warmed your heart and your cheeks. "I can't imagine any of that was easy, so thank you for sharing that with me."

"You make it easy." You let out a sigh of relief.

"You're always safe with me, Sunflower." Steve reminded you. "Always. I mean that. I'm here for you whenever you need me for anything no matter what. Nothing will ever change the way I love you."

"Our love for each other has been pretty unconditional so far hasn't it?" You giggled.

Steve thought about what you said before smiling in agreement. "Yeah, we have been through some crazy stuff together haven't we?"

"I'd say so." You agreed.

"Did he have a name?" Steve questioned.

"The baby?" You reiterated.

"Yeah" he nodded with a grin.

"I never got the chance to give him one" You denied, "but I was calling him cinnamon roll."

"Awww cause he was a little bun in your oven?" Steve pouted because it was just too cute to handle.

"Exactly"

"Well in all the time cinnamon roll had with you, all he ever knew was the best mama in the whole world." Steve acknowledged, not wanting to dismiss what your grief was reminding you off today.

You lip trembled despite your genuine smile, and your eyes filled with tears. "Damn it honey, I just stopped crying."

"It's okay to cry" He smiled with you, giving you another squeeze. "Shedding some tears is wonderful way to spend the day regardless of the pain. It's just a reminder of how much you really loved him and I think that's beautiful."

"Thank you, Stevie, for everything. You're the best person I've ever had in my life, and I love you so fucking much." You dug your face back into the crook of his neck feeling an overwhelming amount of love for the baby you never got to know and the man holding you close.

"I love you too." He gently rocked you.

"I think you'll be the best dad in the whole world one day." You thought out loud.

"And you're the best mom ever."

Once again, that statement made the tears fall past the surface point. Steve let you quietly cry in his arms until he unintentionally lulled you to sleep.

But tonight unlike any of the night of the previous three years, your tears were full of joy. And instead of drifting off and thinking of the loss and the what if's, you thought of something much happier.

You reminisced on all of the times, the years, you settled for scraps. The times of your life you begged of any ounce of affection and support, you thought you had to earn it. When you did, the attention was laced with rejection, resentment lingered through every word and every touch.

And now you got to fall asleep in the safety of the arms of your favorite person. His words came without incentive, you didn't have to beg for his touch. You didn't need to earn the tender moments or reassurance.

It all just came so easy.

Though religion was something that escaped you early in life, you were convinced this new life you had was good enough to be heaven sent, and Steve was the closest thing to a real life angel you'd ever see.

You slept soundly that night knowing that one day whenever you were ready, you'd have a little cinnamon roll to love for the rest of your life.

And maybe a honeybun.

Maybe a popover.

And with full confidence they would be half you, half angel.

Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Please note that I understand I’m covering heavy topics in this series, but I wholeheartedly believe it’s important to highlight an experience that is unfortunately very common in womanhood. To be anything but a cis white man is to fight in a world that wasn’t made for you, and I think writing only experiences of sunshine and rainbows for readers is a disservice to capturing living a human life. Much love and lots of light to everyone reading 🤍🌟

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