#*I was also working on much fewer hours of sleep than normal

[pizzabookbuying]

was like deliriously happy for the past few days and I had no idea why but now I’m pretty sure it was because it was warm-ish for the first time in like a month

[greywritesthings]

five thirty AM

Ask from @spinningspencer 

So, reader has a Dark Day (idk if there's a better term for that, it's what I call them) where she feels like her brain has been replaced by a dark cloud of nothing and she can't really think anymore (I hope this makes sense) It causes her to feel uncomfortable in her mind and body and just uncomfortable in general. She can't do anything but sit those days out, so she goes to Spencer for comfort to get her through the day.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings: feeling numb, feeling unsettled generally readers just sad, you get the vibes from the ask

A/N; this isn't proof read but i quite like this request, i strayed a little bit and i may redo this at some point in the future or do a part 2 perhaps

SR masterlist

masterlist

Read on Ao3 instead!

Taglist; @reidstheyfriend

You had woken up that morning feeling numb, another bad day. You had bad days every now and again, they just happened and had done so since your late teens. Your limbs feel heavy, you couldn’t do anything, including think. You ran on autopilot through the most basic motions to get through the day. 

You feel unsettled throughout everything, like nothing's right, even when you ran on auto pilot it didn't feel correct and it upset you even further. You often ended up spending hours in the shower crying, with a mind full of static and tears running down your cheeks. 

This time it was different, you had someone to go to who understood your bad days. Spencer. You had a bad day about two months after joining the BAU and he had noticed as you had to be at work, unable to call out given you were on a case. He had come to you with a hot chocolate the same way you made it, including the marshmallows and cream he went to the convenience store to get, and asked you if you wanted to talk, letting you know if you wanted you could come back to his room and you could watch or read something together instead of talking. You had taken him up on the offer and ended up falling asleep in his room, curled up together with books dropped on the floor. That had then become routine whenever you or him just needed some comfort. 

Two years on your bad days were fewer and farther between, you were close with the BAU now, they really were like family. You had Hotch and Rossi saved as Dad and Mom respectively. You and Pen hung out regularly, often baking or painting at her flat while drinking wine, under the eyes of Derek and Spencer given they knew how accident prone the pair of you could be after a few glasses. You also found time to hang out with JJ and her children, with Emily often coming with. All over it didn't give you much time to fall into this state but when you did it hit hard. 

You knew in order to get to Spencer you would have to call him and with a brain that felt like static it was going to take up practically everything you had. You knew you could go to his flat, it was one building over and would mean you technically got fresh air so hopefully he wouldn't try and coax you out of the apartment later on. Where you were already in a hoodie and leggings from sleeping you decide to throw on your converses he had gifted you for christmas and walk across to his. 

What would normally take you seven minutes this time took you four, whenever you were zoned out you walked faster, given you weren't looking anywhere or being careful of anything you took the stairs two at a time both up and down. 

It's not until you reach his front door that you realise the time. You look down to your pocket, inadvertently looking at your watch that had glow in the dark hands. It read five thirty AM. It was much earlier than you had thought it was, You had shown up at spencers early before but not this early, and not without checking. You decided to just sit outside his door, sending a :/ text to him for when he did wake up. You both did this on days where you needed each other but couldn't put into words what was wrong. Before you had a chance to sit down you heard his door unlock and saw the door pull open to reveal a surprisingly perky looking spencer. “Morning sweetheart, cmere” He seemed surprised to see you at his door but didn't mind it, lacing an arm around your waist and pulling you into the apartment. 

Once he settled you onto the sofa and grabbed hot chocolates and a vaguely suitable breakfast for you both he joined you, pulling you into his chest once you had eaten so you could listen to his heart knowing it soothed you. He put on DR Who knowing it was something you knew well and so didn't have to pay a lot of attention to to understand, a perfect mix for when you were having a bad day. 

You stayed like that for most of the day, curled up on the sofa with Spencer occasionally getting up to get water and snacks for you both. He passed you your drawing pad and pencils at one point once he noticed you getting anxious so that you could put your mind elsewhere. Eventually you fell asleep and he decided he would just get you to eat better tomorrow. He carefully takes off your shoes and socks, changing out your hoodie and leggings for his sweater and sweatpants like he normally did. He then picks you up carefully and carries you across to his room, placing you carefully on what had been deemed your side, leaving you under the covers while he goes to change knowing that if he left you alone in the bed you would wake up. Once he was back in the bed he turned on the lamp and pulled a book from the stack beside the bed, shuffling over so he could play with your hair easier as you curled further up against him, sighing contentedly in your sleep. You would be okay tomorrow.

[feelbokkie]

Ephemeral Love | Chapter 12

pairing: Seungmin x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, university au, right person wrong time, minor character death

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of throwing up

summary: Does love last forever, or is it fleeting? For university juniors Kim Seungmin and Seo Y/n, it's love at first sight but sometimes you meet your soulmate at the wrong time.

word count:  2,239 (unedited)

screenshot count: 2

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©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You whimper in pain as the pounding on your bedroom worsens the intense throbbing going in your head. You're currently laying down on your bedroom floor. You managed to make it to your bathroom and halfway back to your bed before you just let yourself crumple to the floor. Your room was too bright and moving around too much made you nauseous and your head hurt more. You laid down on the floor with the intention of getting medicine and taking a quick nap before you had to leave for work once you felt a little better. The was 2, maybe 3 hours ago, it could be even longer. You're not entirely sure. You're not in a position to see your clock from where you are and your room is still too bright for you to open your eyes.

You're having a migraine, that much you knew. What exactly caused it this time is debatable. You only get migraines when you're stressed. You used to get them more frequently back in high school when the drama surrounding Changbin and your father started. And then again when you first started college. But, you've managed to keep it under control. You couldn't even remember the last time you had a migraine off the top of your head, thinking also exacerbating your symptoms. You didn't even realize your headaches were a warning sign for a migraine, you thought it was you've been having trouble sleeping after you spent less time at Seungmin's apartment.

“Okay, fine but I’m pretty sure she’s at that idiot’s apartment—oh fuck. I’ll call you back in a minute.” You whimper again at Jisung's loud, panicked voice.

"Please, be quite." You whisper, your own voice being too loud for you otherwise.

"Y/n, are you okay? Can you get up?" He says loudly again, he clearly hadn't heard you the first time.

"Jisung, please shut up." You try to say a little louder.

"What's wrong?" He moves your hair out of you face, causing you to squeeze your eyes tighter, the light shining through your eyelids.

"Quiet. Head hurts." You whisper one last time, trying fewer words so you don't have to talk as much.

Jisung reads your tear stained face and puts all the pieces of the puzzle together. He knows you get migraines and he knows how bad they can get, he's normally the one who takes care of you when you do. He quietly gets up and draws the blinds and curtains in your room. You have blackout curtains for moments like this. You hear him quietly shuffle around the room. You slowly open your eyes and breathe out in relief, squeezing them shut was also hurting your head more.

"Open your mouth," Jisung whispers. He was so quiet, you didn't know when he came back into the room.

You feel two small pills hit your tongue and a a little bit of water fill your mouth. You gingerly swallow the pills and mumble out a thank you.

"Come on, let's get up." You feel Jisung's hand on your back.

"I can't,"

"You have to. I promise your bed is comfier than the floor. Plus, you can hide under the blanket." He says softly. You're not sure if it's the tone in his voice or the volume of it or a combination of the two but you feel like crying again. He hasn't spoken this nicely to you in so long, it's almost foreign.

"Okay," You whisper back. You let Jisung slowly guide you up and lead you to your bed. You climb in and cover yourself in your blanket. Jisung quietly leaves again. You silently pray that the medicine kick in soon or it'll knock you out. You don't care which one.

You think about all of the things that are currently adding stress to your life right now. If you could figure it out now, you might be able deal with it when you feel a little better and prevent your migraine from getting worse.

First, there was your birthday dinner with your family. You know it's your idea to invite Changbin, but the idea of your dad and Changbin in the same room for the first time in years is daunting. The last time they were together they got into a huge screaming match. You're hoping you can try to resolve things next week. They both love you enough to not ruin your birthday with their pettiness, but that doesn't mean that they won't still end up fighting in the slightest. But you also knew that dinner next week meant that you were most likely going to get a lecture from your father at some point. You had gotten a D on the paper for you wrote for your preventable diseases course. You've never earned lower than an A in your entire life, and in all honesty, you didn't really care. Sure, being a paper that didn't hold much weight, it dropped your grade down to a B. What you were worried about was how your father was going to react.

Since attending JYPU, he's made you submit bi-weekly grade checks. He wanted to make sure his money was being well spent. You didn't really mind about it at first, you knew your grades were never going to slip. But now, you're not sure how he was going to react. He's always been more lenient on you compared to Iseul and Changbin. But you remember how bad the lectures Changbin would get are. He wouldn't get mad at your birthday dinner, but he was still going to say something. As ridiculous as it sounds, he could stop tuition payments or make you move back home if he thought that living with your brother is jeopardizing your future.

And then there is your one-sided fight with Jisung. You just want your best friend back but you know that there is no way for you two to go back to the way that you were. You went through every interaction you've ever had with Jisung, looking at it with a lense of him liking you. He's been flirting with you for years and you've been too oblivious to realize it was more than just casual banter. It's laughable, just not right now.

"Sit up," Jisung whispers, reentering the room.

You slowly sit, the medicine finally starting to kick in. Your head still feels like there is a loud speaker playing music so loud that you only feel the bass and several knives are slowly stabbing your brain all at once, but it was slightly tolerable now.

Jisung hands you a bowl of something. You take it, putting a small spoonful in your mouth. It's leftovers from last night's dinner.

"Thanks," You mumble.

"No problem." He says quietly, sitting on the foot of your bed.

It's so dark, you can't really see anything. You can't see the anxious look on Jisung's face as he waits for you to finish eating.

"I'm sorry," You whisper.

"You don't have to apologize for being sick. You know you get migraines." He gently places a hand on your knee.

"No," you take another spoonful, "I'm sorry for...not liking you back."

Jisung lets out a loud breathe. He removes his hand off your knee and stares at your shadowed figure. He can imagine the sad, pitiful look you have on your face. He's seen it enough over the years. He knows that your migraines are stressed induced, and he feels a little guilty knowing that he might be the reason why you're in pain now.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. We can't help who we fall in love with. Ah, not in love, in like with rather. I'm not in love with you or anything like that. I'm just--"

"Ji, volume." You warn. He was getting to excited with his explantion.

"Sorry, I just--I'm sorry, okay? I was just upset but it was more to do with me being mad at myself than at you. It was just easier to take it out on you. And then after a while I felt bad about how I was treating you but I was too much of a coward to fix it."

"You were hurt. I know that your behavior was shit, but you were hurt. Still kind of mad at you for your tantrum, but I'll get over it. Life's too short." You take one last spoonful before putting the bowl to the side. You didn't eat all of the food that Jisung brought you, if you ate more you would probably actually throw up.

"You're too nice, you know that? I treated you like shit for almost 2 months, you shouldn't be forgiving me that easily. You should like, be making me grovel and beg for your forgiveness."

"You're loud when you grovel, I don't think I could handle that right now."

"I can grovel later."

"I will actually lose all respect for you."

"You respected me? Me? The guy you've seen walk into the patio door more times than you can count?" You start to laugh and wince in pain.

"Please don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Okay, okay, we'll talk more later. Try to take a nap for now. I'll leave my room door open and my ringer on just in case." Jisung slowly stands up and takes the bowl from your bedside table. He gives you a quick hug before he heads for the door.

"Ji?" You hum, laying back down. Your headache is slowly starting to go away and making you sleepy.

"Yeah?"

"Love you," You whisper innocently. Exhaustion and your headache not letting you think properly about your words. You two would often tell each other you loved each other, it was a habit for you two.

You don't see the sad smile he gives you as his right hand rests on the door knob. He knows you don't mean it in the way that he wishes you did. And he knows that there's a chance you never will. He knows you mean it innocently, like you always have.

"Love you too. Get some rest, I'll check on you later." He whispers before leaving you alone.

"Oh my god," You groan.

You woke up from your nap, head pounding again. The pills clearly worn off. You've spent past few hours drifitng in and out of sleep. As some point you had enough in you to walk to the kitchen and get yourself a cup of water while wearing sunglasses.

"Are you awake?" You hear a familiar voice whisper next to you.

"Minnie?" You mumble, turning your head in the direction of the voice.

"Yeah, I'm here." You feel the bed shift a bit.

"What...why...when did you get here?" You ask, slowly turning over more to face him.

You can't really see him, your room is still dark. You only see a part of his face, lit up by the small clip light attached to what you could only assume is one of his textbooks.

"I got here about an hour and a half ago. I called you after class and your roommate answered, told me you were sick. I came to keep you company. Brought you some soup." You feel his cool fingers brush some of your hair off of your face.

"Why?" You question. Not that you aren't grateful Seungmin is here, but you're not entirely sure you're ready for him to deal with you and your migraines.

"I told you, you're sick."

You feel the bed slight move and hear the sink and your bathroom a few seconds later. Not too long after, the bed dips again and you feel something cool on your forehead.

"You didn't have to come." You mumble, closing your eyes. The light from the small lamp hurting your head.

"I know I didn't have too, I wanted to. How's your head?" You feel him move you hair from getting wet by the compress.

"If you really liked me you you take one of my pillows and smother me to put me out of my misery." You quietly groan.

"How about I smother you with my love instead?" You feel his lips press into your cheek.

"I'd love that, but I don't think that would help me much right now." You sigh.

"Here," you feel Seungmin's hand slide under your back, "sit up."

You slowly get you with Seungmin's help. The bed moves quite a bit as Seungmin crawls behind you. You whimper in pain from the sudden jostling, earning quite apologizes from Seungmin. Once he settles comfortably behind you, he gently pulls your back against his chest. You rest your head on him, just below his chin.

"You have to wait a couple of hours before you can takes some more. But I did some reading while you were sleeping and a lot of people on the internet said that this was supposed to help with migraines. Just let me know if it isn't helping or starts hurting." Seungmin whispers just as his cool fingers find their way on your scalp. Seungmin applies gently pressure and slowly massages your scalp. Surprisingly, it is helping a bit.

"That feels nice actually. It's helping a bit."

"Then I'll do this for a while. Just relax, try to fall back asleep if you can." He presses another kiss to the top of your head before resuming massaging your scalp.

—

Buy me a coffee?

[sabakos]

I think maybe most "normal" people really are spoonies, too but they just don't notice because even if they sometimes hit their limit, they always have enough spoons to get by. But I don't believe that there are really people out there who work hard at their desk job and then can come home and cook dinner and work out and clean their house and sleep five hours every night and are none the worse for wear and never reach the point where they can't do more. I think anyone who tried to do all of this all the time and also support a family and maintain an active social life and hobbies would physically implode before they burned out.

And this ideal non-spoonie just doesn't hold up to observation from anyone I've known with a modestly functional life? Many people seem to eat a lot of fast food and takeout all while telling themselves they should cook more. I think there are probably various parts of their house that are full of clutter or aren't cleaned as often as they would like them to be unless they are rich enough to pay someone to take care of that or have a spouse who does that instead of working. Most days they probably come home from work and do the bare minimum before they decompress in front of the television or the computer for a few hours. This doesn't break anything in their life so they never have reason to think about it, but they've "exhausted their spoons for the day" when they're in this state. They do their adult responsibilities like pay bills on Saturdays and maybe sleep in if they need to, so it all takes care of itself.

I don't think the difference between a "normie" and a "spoonie" is that great though? Someone who always "gets by" like this isn't necessarily that far above someone who is "barely getting by" or "not getting by" and they would never even know it! I think it's a lot easier than most people realize to enter a spiral, where one or two bad weeks mean that for the first time, you've overspent your spoons before everything you need to do is done, which has consequences in the form of stress, from self-blame, or late fees on bills, or general fatigue from not eating or sleeping properly, which result in fewer spoons the next week, which results in more things not getting none that need to get done, and more consequences, and more stress.... you get the idea.

From the outside or the inside it's probably not easy to know this is happening, it just looks like a depressed person suddenly doesn't have as much energy to hang out with their friends anymore or enjoy the things they used to enjoy, or even get out of bed anymore at a reasonable time on the weekends. And suddenly it feels to them like they want to die, because all of a sudden everything started going wrong and it happened so gradually and imperceptibly that it just seems like one day they were broken. They might laugh if they knew how trivial or stupid the initial trigger that set off the spiral was. It might make it easier to claw their way back if they develop a sense of humor about it, and realize that it wasn't "their fault" and that sometimes these things happen. They can happen to anyone, after all.

[utilitycaster]

could you elucidate on why coffeelocks are bad actually? my friend is a bit obsessed with them right now and i’ve never liked the specific build but i’d love to have concrete reasons that aren’t just opinions!

YES. Somewhere in my archives I think I actually did the math on like, how many short rests you have to take for this to pay any dividends, and it was a LOT, but that was during full lockdown iirc and you do not have to do this much work.

The basic gist of coffeelock for those wondering is that warlocks recharge spell slots on a short rest, and sorcerers can convert sorcery points into spell slots and vice versa. The idea is that if you take Pact of the Tome and then Aspect of the Moon as an eldritch invocation, you never have to long rest again and can just farm sorcery points/spell slots for 8 hours each night.

Now: the most obvious issue is that any reasonable DM who hears about this will look at you and say "I don't care if it's technically legal, I think it's annoying and I'm not going to let you do it." But let's assume your DM does not shut it down.

You have infinite spell slots at level 5. You are warlock 3 sorcerer 2. You know 7 spells total, which is what you'd know had you leveled to level 5 in either of these classes, except you also know 6 level 1 spells and 1 level 2 spell, max. Someone who leveled normally would have fireball, or dispel magic, or counterspell, and if they were divine soul they might even have revivify, but not you! This will eventually get slightly better at higher levels but if you're the party's main arcane caster this sucks and if you're in a party with fewer than like, five people, or perhaps a really caster heavy party, you're putting a lot of burden on other people to do the utility early on so that your dumb ass can cast magic missile 20 times a day or whatever.

I don't actually care for sorlock just generally, in the absence of coffeelock bullshit. Yes, it depends on the same main stat, but a bard or paladin combo will actually significantly broaden your repertoire. Sorcerer and Warlock have a LOT of spell overlap, and metamagic is one of those things that is like, super clutch 0.1% of the time and the rest of the time it's like oh ok (though I guess as a coffeelock you're not even really using metamagic! total waste of being a sorcerer, which is the weakest caster already! great job.). Meanwhile, two of the big strengths of warlock are 1. eldritch blast, a cantrip you can already cast infinite times without spell slots, and 2. eldritch invocations, which you have to level in warlock to get. Dipping into sorcerer means fewer invocations. Basically, all multiclassing is a trade off and I feel like this is at most the sum of its parts, certainly not more. I also think it's very tricky to play this in a way that is narratively interesting and makes sense for your character while also abiding by the specific leveling requirements of coffeelock. This isn't an issue in a one-shot but also in a one-shot you simply might not even take a long rest which renders the entire thing useless.

You have to take Pact of the Tome, which means you are spending all this time and effort and build for infinite spell slots but also you have, without any racial bonuses, literally 9 cantrips (ie, at-will spells) at level 5. And none of them are dispel magic, because that is too high for you for at least another 2 levels and that's only if you choose to continue in warlock. Also, actually, until you reach L9 in specifically divine soul sorcerer, you don't have greater restoration as discussed, so yeah your DM can just be like "oh you don't have to sleep but you do still gain exhaustion."

I lied and I did some math. So: you are a L5 coffeelock. let's say you have exhausted all your resources on day 1. You sit down for your little bullshit 8 short rests. You can never have more than two sorcery points, because the PHB page 101 says that you can't exceed the number of sorcery points shown on the table for your level. So every hour you convert one L2 spell slot (recharging) into a L1 spell slot (non-recharging), and repeat this (you can't convert both at once! because then you exceed two sorcery points!) and you end the night with 14 L1 spells and your two L2 warlock spell slots. If you are lucky, you might get like, one short rest if there is a monk or wizard or fighter in the party and they don't hate you so much that they're willing to go without ki points/second winds/arcane recovery, and they might. I guess you just stockpile low level spells indefinitely until you have to sleep finally? if you have a week of downtime do you just. walk around with hundreds of first level spell slots and not think this is the dumbest shit of all time? ooooh look at me i can cast fucking...detect magic for 24 hours straight. can't dispel any of it though!

Leveling up is a bitch too if I recall. You need to level up in sorcerer to get more points so you can eventually convert to higher level spells, and the exchange rate is not generous (like, if you're not sleeping, it's ok, but it's not in your favor as shown with the L2 to L1 conversion) and imo warlock is the superior class, and you're probably not really taking advantage of metamagic anyway so you're barely reaping the benefits of being a sorcerer except for flexible casting. Do you feel good about this? Is this fun for you? Your entire table is watching you count out your spell slots each night and hoping fervently you get audited by the IRS in real life but man you sure showed them by being able to cast chromatic orb a lot!

Also you can't use items that recharge on a long rest, only ones that recharge at dawn. Sucker.

This is all very long because I think coffeelock is an annoying build for people who think they are smart and really aren't, but the gist is that you trade away a great deal of your utility, ability to help the party, and ability to do anything except cast rather low-level spells in comparison to what everyone who made better decisions is doing. Also it's LAUGHABLY easy for the DM to fuck this over for you within the bounds of the rules even if they allowed it. Your patron gets annoyed that you're only leveling in sorcerer. Levels of exhaustion. Your patron, who communicates through dreams, straight up abandons you because you're not picking up their calls. You keep being put in positions where your 75 first level spells won't do shit and a single third level spell would. They taunt you with items that recharge on a long rest.

It's just...well, quantity over quality. Shein haul ass character build.

[blujayonthewing]

Heartbreak, midnight, mistake for Mel if they haven’t been asked and actually can you dow them for Felix too, cause why not.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

biting my fist I wish I had better answers for this because I love this question. The problem with both felix and mel is that they are in their 50s and 60s respectively, which isn't very many for a gnome but is still just A Lot Of Years for me, an idiot, to fill with life experiences and I've mostly been really bad about doing that kfgjhdgj.

Melliwyk has always been really bad at relationships in general; she's dated a little, mostly very casually, but especially once she was in the academy she fell pretty hard into 'yes yes yes I'll go socialize when I'm done working on this' chaining one project into the next ad infinitum, especially after the experiment backfire explosion that gave her a reputation as this sort of ruthless researcher and resulted in kind of a feedback loop of people assuming she preferred to be left alone, which meant fewer people bugging her into socializing once in awhile, which reinforced her perception as a loner, etc. I think she's been in at least a handful of relationships with people she really liked that could have been serious but just... sort of fell apart; more regrets than outright heartbreaks.

Honestly as of current canon, I think the worst outright heartbreak Mel's had that I know of was being attacked by, and then losing, her house's ghost as soon as she found out he was real the whole time; aside from Baxter, he was her only friend for years and years, even if only an 'imaginary' one, and it was a gut punch to, essentially, finally find him but then immediately lose him forever.

Felix has even less canon backstory I could tell you about right now, alas :') He's been in very few meaningful relationships; he's not good at putting himself out there, and having a brief encounter with a stranger is a lot easier to navigate than... well, someone else being disappointed with the way he is as a whole person. To be fair, I don't think he's been openly rejected a lot, but the way he sort of expects it shapes his behavior such that it makes it harder for others to get that close to him in the first place. I can very much see him having had his heart broken before, but I'd have to get back to you on specifics ^^; These days he mostly keeps to himself; he likes people, but it's easier for him to be around them than to be one of them.

I am incapable of brevity! The rest under the cut!

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Melliwyk is up working. She'd be up working anyway, but especially if she's upset-- working tirelessly, if not relentlessly. She's not good with emotions; she processes things by keeping busy, either looking for Solutions or just looking to throw herself into something productive rather than having to feel her feelings. This is overlapping really neatly with her current major source of stress, which is that everything she's working on is deeply important, and anything she neglects in order to work on those things is also deeply important, and other people are getting hurt and will continue to get hurt if she can't prioritize tasks correctly or do enough quickly enough and well enough. She doesn't have time for fears! Or anxieties! Or sleep! Or dinner! And it's great! After all, she loves her work! She's interested! Passionate! No downsides!! She doesn't have nightmares because the reason she wears that goofy hat at all times is literally to magically prevent nightmares, but I bet if she slept without it her nightmares would be real interesting right now :)

The facetious answer for Felix is: his sleep schedule is sort of unusual, so when he's up in the small hours it's normal and he's getting up to whatever his normal gnome business is, lol. But in the proper spirit of the question:

He lost a lot of sleep after the mysterious encounter that took a chunk of his memory and left a strange mark on his skin. In general, Felix is not immune to getting too invested in [area of interest] and staying up way too late, so he's certainly lost sleep working on/ thinking over really interesting mysteries before, but that situation has so many unknowns, has so many worrying or grim implications, has given him so much to think about and yet so little to actually work with...! The fact that he can't remember getting back to town is what upsets him the most. He's found himself (or put himself) in a lot of really dangerous situations, but he's always had control of his own mind and body before, even when he's been physically overpowered by others.

More generally, sometimes he'll learn something or uncover some secret that he ends up losing sleep over, especially if it's information about something bad that he doesn't feel like he can actually act on. The city he spends most of his time in is less-than-secretly controlled by a powerful criminal guild, so he has to maintain a really delicate balance between snooping around a lot just because that's what interests him anyway, helping others as much as he can, but also staying out of the way of the guild and the law enough that the worst either of them do is, you know, beat him up a little and/or throw him in jail for a couple days, rather than deciding it'd be better if he Just Disappeared.

If he's worried or anxious and can't sleep over it, he'll generally go for a walk, or go sit on a roof for awhile, or sit somewhere and draw if the weather's bad. He doesn't have a lot of nightmares, but when he does they're often about being trapped somewhere and being unable to call for help, or seeing people pass by who can't seem to see or hear him (all of which he stubbornly refuses to read into).

mistake: What’s the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

A little while back, Melliwyk's party returned from a ground excursion to find our airship under attack by a powerful archmage, her personal bodyguard, a bunch of summoned fiends, and a crew of elite soldiers; as soon as she managed to get back on deck Melliwyk launched a fireball at the archmage and then moved toward the cabin looking to get cover inside, and the archmage returned with a massive flamestrike right on top of Mel, who... had just run directly to where most of the crew of the ship were, all of whom had already taken damage before we got there. Our first mate went down, and we managed to get him just inside the door to the stairs leading belowdecks, but before any healers could reach him a previously invisible imp stung him, killing him instantly, right at Melliwyk's feet.

And the thing is. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered whether she, personally, drew fire to him; he had already been pretty hurt, and it was a rough battle for everyone, and there's no reason to believe the archmage still wouldn't have dropped a big AOE on half the ship. And maybe it's perfectly reasonable that Melliwyk, a wizard, a transmutation wizard, didn't try to use her entire action in the middle of a pitched battle to try to stabilize him when there were no obvious enemies nearby, and an actual healer was literally feet away, running to help him. Maybe. But she can only think that it was so, so stupid of her, that if she'd just thought for one second, for once-- ... anyway. The next week or so were all 'Mel doesn't leave her room or speak to anyone' days. Working. Relentlessly. She'd already been working on figuring out a method to use her newly-learned insights into artificing to cast spells, but the first spells she actually programmed into the device she was working on were spare the dying, cure wounds, and revivify.

Felix bit off more than he could chew; he was following the trail of some weird rumors in a smaller town, hoping to find a connection to a string of recent petty thefts he'd been looking into, but he underestimated what kind of people he was dealing with-- both in terms of skills, and of how serious their operation actually was. He got caught pretty deep into their base of operations, way too deep for any attempt at plausible deniability, and after beating the shit out of him they opted to just tie him up and leave him in an abandoned and mostly blocked-off sewer passage to die, rather than kill him outright. He only escaped by convincing the rats to chew through the ropes, quickly made his way out of the city by staying belowground for as long as possible, and has never been back since-- there's a chance they forgot about him immediately, but there's also a very good chance that they'd be really upset if that guy who Knows Too Much is still just running around like a dangerous loose thread.

It was just-- well, maybe not cockiness, he's not exactly the cocky type, but certainly carelessness. He got sloppy, over-interested and under-cautious; he hadn't really expected to be dealing with people who'd be able to catch him so easily, much less that he'd be in any serious danger if they did. He was expecting, like, a gang of teenagers at worst-- not not a threat, but people he could maybe stand up to in a fight, or wriggle free from pretty easily, or who at the very least wouldn't try to fucking kill him. This would have been fairly early in his career (so to speak) of trying to tail people and break into places for actual, like, private investigation reasons rather than pure curiosity, so he didn't have a good handle on the risks, or the stakes; he's (usually) a lot more careful nowadays, although sometimes he still can't resist pushing his luck.

ask about my OCs?

[lucero-is-here]

Headcanons: Kayla Markham

Requested by:

Here’s Kayla:

Now I’m not too sure about her, so this list is going to be much much shorter, but let’s get to it!

1 - She has a collection of earrings. Besides the hoops she wears, she has smaller hoops in different colours. She also has these stud earrings that look like little skulls and she absolutely adores them.

2 - she takes a while to do her hair, and she always finds it worth the time and effort.

3 - purple is her favourite colour. Dark purple especially. She can’t stand anything that is too bright-

4 - apart from the eyeshadow she wears, she doesn’t apply any other form of makeup.

5 - she’s quite strong. She can lift a couple pounds (useful when getting artifacts), and she also has really good arm strength. She basically strong everywhere- she can easily pull herself out of a ditch if you give her ledge or something to grab on.

6 - her body build is towards the more muscular side. She does a lot of physical training, which causes the muscles- though she is sadly easily caught off guard or taken by surprise.

7- she can walk or run for really long periods of time somehow. When you’re searching for artifacts, it takes time, and a lot of dedication and it can be down right difficult. Due to the fact Kayla is very used to her job, she can easily walk or run for ages in the search for artifacts she can get. It takes time and stamina, but she always thinks it’s worth it.

8 - she rarely gets tired. She has short sleeper syndrome. Short sleeper syndrome (copied from the internet): “Short sleeper syndrome (SSS) is a sleep condition characterized by sleeping for fewer than six hours each night. Most adults need seven or more hours of sleep each night to feel rested in the morning. Those with SSS, however, can function normally throughout the day despite less sleep”. She uses this to her advantage and spends a lot of time working, not because she has too, cause she can.

9 - she gets caffeine pretty much anywhere. Tea, coffee, energy drinks- she gets her caffeine mainly from coffee though.

10 - does anything to stay fit and healthy. She knows the risks are job can have, and she wants to be in her best shape while doing her job to avoid any injuries or possible risks of death, so she gets balanced meals as much as possible and drinks a ton of water.

11 - salty over sweet food…She doesn’t eat sweets that much, and would rather eat salty foods than something sweet and sugary. Too much sugar disgusts her.

12 - scars. She has some scars from searching for artifacts. Whether she scratched herself on a rough surface or something else, she has some scars from her journeys, and she’s kind of proud of them.

13 - boots and sneakers over anything. Boots are her number one option, since they are really difficult to get off so her chances of loosing her shoes is almost zero.

14 - can be impatient and reckless at times, but will always find a way to solve whatever issue she has run into.

15 - she can’t sleep still. Expect her to be rolling and kicking about in her sleep. She also can’t hold still in any situation. She’s always tapping her foot against the ground or something-

16 - music? Eh she listens to whatever she thinks sounds good or gets her into the mood of an adventure. She doesn’t care about what genre of music she listens too. As long as it sounds good and the artist isn’t bad she’s down.

I can’t really think of much for her- So that’s it…

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Day Off (Learning How To Be Normal)

I

It’s been a good few days, Jaxon took to the training as well as I could have expected for someone with no experience. One day to let his muscles heal and the concepts sink in, and he should be ready to take on more advanced training for the rest of the week. Not sure how I’ll spend the day, can’t work at a side contract while I’m on retainer. He seems to have no trouble passing his free time, maybe I’ll ask.

Getting familiar with this place. It’s a lot like an old Imperial base once the superficial appeal of the expense wears off. My boots clack on the stone just the same as they used to on steel, and all the closed doors give off the same air of foreboding. The only difference is somehow I feel less welcome here, the same curt professionalism from the guards as we were taught feels like it has an undercurrent of rejection. They must not be used to hosting guests.

‘Good morning Jaxon. Bodily recuperation is an important aspect of training, so today there won’t be any physical conditioning. Given that, I was also planning to abstain from teaching you any more technical skills, so that what I already have can sink in.’ ‘Good, every part of my body has been hurting since the day we started. So, are you just waking me up at a quarter after six wearing your armor because you felt like it, or what?’ I figured he’d have gotten used to it by now.

‘You shouldn’t let your sleep schedule deprecate, it will just make waking up on time tomorrow feel even worse. I’m wearing the armor because it’s comfortable.’ ‘Sure, I guess. Just don’t slave drive me through the morning like you have been, alright?’ ‘What do you mean? That’s how I always wake up.’ ‘You always count out your strokes when you’re brushing your teeth, that wasn’t just like a “getting me into the boot camp mindset” sorta deal? Damn.’ ‘Since I was fifteen. Once this training gets into you, it doesn’t come out. That’s the point. Discipline has saved me from more blasters than you’ve ever seen.’

Not just other people’s. When I felt like every day was pointless and I was going to be stuck at rock bottom for the rest of my life, I remembered my instructor telling me that suicide is the coward’s way out of a bad situation and got up anyway. I haven’t heard them in twenty years, but my range officer’s instructions still ring in my ears every time I pull out my blaster, I can still see the motions of the quarter master’s hands every time I service it. My drill instructor, my squad leader, even Tessa are all over my shoulder judging everything I do. I can’t bear the thought of dying a disgrace to the Empire, even now.

‘Well it’s not into me, so just give me a few minutes to wake up, alright? I’m not wearing much under these covers.’ Close the door, give him some privacy. He has an attached bathroom suite, so I can wait here for him. I hope he doesn’t think I’m being too pushy. I’m almost twice his age, is it acceptable for us to interact outside of work hours? We’ve certainly been growing more friendly with each other, but it’s a professional sort of friendliness. Everyone else around here is on the clock, and Huxley’s poetic waxing is difficult to stay awake through.

I wonder if all this has tarnished his image of me. Maybe he’ll leave that forum of his, or tell everyone what I’ve confided in him, ruin the mystery for the rest of his peers. Why do I suddenly care about that? It would be for the best. The fewer eyes on me the better, and I went five years of independent contract work without knowing about it. It’s not like they’re officers, or clients, so I hardly need to care about their opinion of me. But if I can’t even impress people like them, then what does that say about my skills? Skills don’t matter if you’re so thoroughly unappealing in every other aspect. I can earn credits, but never respect.

‘Alright, I’m up. You waiting for me?’ ‘Yes. I don’t know the layout of the mansion. Your father mentioned a variety of amenities, but I’ve spent so much of my time working with you that I haven’t had the chance to find them. I was hoping you could act as a guide.’ ‘Sure. After breakfast though. Real breakfast; if this is a day off I’m not choking down three “nutritionally complete” piles of unseasoned meat and vegetables.’ ‘They are nutritionally complete, there’s no need for sarcasm.’ ‘There’s more to food than nutrients! That’s the part I’m emphasizing!’ ‘Nothing I’m familiar with.’

It makes sense that this pantry would be decadently stocked, but I’ve never even heard of most of these seasonings, let alone the rest of the ingredients. ‘So, since you’re our guest, what are you in the mood for? Our chef used to work at one of the finest restaurants on Coruscant, until he called an Imperial officer an inbred degenerate for wanting his steak well done and had to flee to the outer rim, so he can whip up pretty much anything.’ He sounds like he’d get along well with Vranki’s doctor. ‘I don’t think I can appreciate the potential on offer. You pick something for me.’

‘Hey Glipnort, could you whip us up an omelette? She wants it “nutritionally complete”, and I want it to be the best thing she’s ever eaten. Make whatever you think will fit both of those bills, please.’ The outer rim really is full of surprising species’. Only a handful are considered civilized enough to be seen in any real density in the core. Three legs, and five arms evenly distributed around his torso, which is also where his face is. Not even going to try to fathom what his home planet is like.

‘So, what’d you have planned for after breakfast?’ ‘I don’t know enough about your mansion or this city to decide.’ ‘Yeah but like if you could just do whatever, what would it be?’ I’ve never been asked this before. Hobbies are a completely common social marker, even talking about your hobbies is something that comes naturally once you feel passionately enough about one. The officers and diplomats used to drone on about their obscure sports or having just bought an expensive portrait from some artist I’d never heard of. What do I like doing?

‘You alright Koben? You’re kinda zoning out on me, you have hobbies don’t you?’ ‘I don’t. I spend most of my time working to make enough money to be able to travel the outer rim as necessary, and the rest of the time outside of that maintaining my physique, equipment, and skills so that my work doesn’t kill me. I tried dating recently, but it didn’t go well.’ Silence, shock. Nothing else to fill the seconds with. ‘Wow. That’s ffffuckin’ depressing. You open to suggestions?’ ‘I am.’ ‘Great, I can think of a few things. After we’re done eating though, food’s here.’

This is the best meal I’ve ever eaten. Most military meal guides are simple, designed for modular substitution in case of shortages and providing enough nutrition to spend the next several hours marching. This is different. Minuscule traces of dozens of ingredients all working in perfect lock step towards reinforcing each other, covering for weaknesses and emphasizing strengths. If I could have a squad work together this well, the ten of us could take an entire planet. I almost feel wasteful just eating it, like the galaxy will never see its like again and it should be preserved as a symbol of aspiration.

‘So, what do you think – it’s good, right?’ ‘Yes. You eat meals like this every day?’ ‘Not every day, these ingredients are pretty expensive. Just the dash of spice in this probably cost a hundred credits. But like I said; you’re my guest, and I’m treating you to the special occasion food. The normal stuff is still pretty good though.’ ‘I’m going to eat this very slowly.’ ‘Sounds good. Meet me in my room when you’re done, got a game you might like.’

II

Not used to being able to leave my dishes for someone else to clean up. Can definitely see how this lifestyle has made Jaxon soft. Hopefully all the free time he has has left him with a good taste in games. ‘Oh hey, glad you took so long – I barely got the table set up. You ever played a war game?’ ‘We had war game exercises every week in the academy.’ ‘No, not that kind of war game dummy, the kind you play on a tabletop!’ ‘I’m not familiar.’ Do we need all of these little dolls to play?

‘Well, I figure given your history, you’ll like Thunder Soldiers: it’ll be nice and familiar.’ ‘Those are obviously Stormtroopers.’ ‘Well yeah, obviously, but they don’t have an agreement with the Empire to use the official names and likenesses – they’ve gotta be legally distinct.’ ‘Is there a game that does? I think I’d appreciate a more accurate representation.’ ‘There is, but it sucks. The guys who made this game used to play that game, but got fed up with it and made this one instead.’ Sounds like Imperial politics.

‘How do we play?’ ‘The basic premise is both sides have to make a ten man squad, then fight over an area. Here, you can thumb through the rule book.’ These rules are completely unrealistic. Weapon ranges are too short, obstructions don’t penalize accuracy enough, and the armor is rated far too highly.

‘This is a completely unrealistic simulation. The longest range weapons in this game barely function within the average skirmish distance of a real firefight, and the battlefield conditions they say make for a short skirmish would call for an hours long stalemate or the use of heavy ordnance to break enemy positions. On top of that, Stormtrooper armor just doesn’t work this way, it disseminates the penetrating force of a blaster bolt, yes – but it doesn’t neutralize it completely, only specialized troopers are afforded anything close to that, and the thermal properties of even the weakest blaster weapons make it so that completely mitigating a bolt is something that only vehicle grade plating is capable of. It’s just meant to downgrade a lethal shot to a concussion so you can be resuscitated after the battle.’

‘Wow, you sure you haven’t played this before? You sound just like the critics. They made those changes on purpose, because tournaments of the official game do simulate all that accurately, and every match turns into an hour of rolling misses. Trust me, even if it’s not realistic, it’s fun. Now pick your squad leader, I’ve got plenty.’

This game really seems not to understand the role a squad leader plays. Most of them have special weaponry, which is the exact opposite of what they’re meant to carry. That makes them priority targets, especially with some of these being dangerously reactive if hit. I guess if they don’t have rules for keeping these sorts of things in sealed boxes that’s the best compromise they can do, but it’s still – hang on, is that me?

‘Oh, that one! Yeah, uhh, I kind of forgot that one was in there. That’s a custom leader I made when I was first getting into the game a couple years ago. It’s, uhh, well I put you in the game. It’s not really balanced at all, I used the rules to give the whole squad budget to one unit, but it turns out that kind of fucks the math completely. Nothing can hit you and you can fire like four blaster bolts with perfect accuracy per turn, it’s pretty dumb. Don’t use it.’

I have to use it. It’s been years since I had squad reinforcement, so I might as well start with something I’m familiar with. Plus I’ve never played this game before, so I should take all the advantages I can get.

That was completely unrealistic, but I can see what he meant about that making it more fun. No way I could take on a whole squad in one stand up gun fight in real life, I’d need to pick them off quietly either alone or in groups of two. ‘You’re right, that was a fun game. I’m not that good in real life though.’ ‘Okay, now that you’ve proven how bad of an idea that custom character was, do you want to try a real round?’ ‘Alright.’ The radio operator looks good, well timed orbital ordnance has won me plenty of ground campaigns.

I have to admit, even with the minutia being incorrect, in aggregate this is an acceptably realistic simulation. ‘Oh c’mon, you barely know the rules, how’d you win without even losing a guy?’ ‘There was a jungle planet I was fighting on where almost identical scenarios to this one happened every three weeks. I just applied the strategies we used against the real locals. Encircle a position, press the enemy inward, take them all out with one heavy ordnance strike. It works because they’re so afraid of individual losses that they gradually retreat from their positions, meter by meter.’ ‘Wow, guess that might have been a bit close to home then. Let’s do another round, different scenario, different squad leaders.’ I was getting reminded of my time in the Corps, not exactly what I’d choose for a game. I’ll use the engineer this time, I was pretty rarely on defence.

‘Alright, this is starting to feel like bullshit. I used those same tactics you used against me and got completely wiped out, so what the fuck?’ ‘Those tactics only work against an unfortified position, for a conventional siege you need to either starve the enemy out or breach a vulnerable part of their defences. You trickled men in at first, then rallied for a single charge with less than half of your forces. You might have won the day with heavy losses if you’d done that from the beginning, but it would have been by thin margins.’

‘Did you learn that one from a real campaign?’ ‘Yes. Larger scale warfare. Thousands of soldiers on either side – we had the city blockaded, but they had shield generators to prevent orbital bombardment. After enough attempts at probing for weak spots, the ground around the city was a featureless no man’s land for a kilometer out on all sides – scorched by repeated heavy blaster fire.’ ‘Damn...that sounds brutal. How’d you manage to win that?’

‘We held our positions, kept their forces from leaving the city. Other forces ravaged the rest of the planet while it was left relatively undefended, and eventually their leaders signed a surrender after we held all the refugees travelling towards the capital hostage.’ ‘Wow. You, uhh, you don’t sound very torn up about that.’ ‘It was a callous order, but it ended up saving more lives than it cost in the long run. I don’t know how every soldier treated them, but I was professional with the refugees I was tasked with managing. The week was rough, but I’d have made the same call.’ ‘Cool, cool. Hey, do you want to do something else maybe?’ I was having fun. I guess he’s a sore loser.

III

‘How about we listen to an album or something? I’m just gonna take a guess and say you don’t have too many opinions on music, do you?’ ‘Just nothing classical.’ It was all Tessa listened to. Lots of bad memories made to it. ‘No worries on that front, dad listens to a lot of it – I always thought it was pretty boring. Gonkrock sound good?’ I’ve never heard of that genre in my life. ‘Sure.’

This music is intense. It sounds like how blaster fire sailing over your head feels – overwhelming and smothering, but invigorating at the same time. Like if you don’t move you’ll die, so there’s nothing to do but throw caution to the wind and trust your life to a flurry of violence. I didn’t know music could make you feel this way.

Imperial anthems are austere and command respect, marching tunes have a rigid cadence that demands you fall in line, but this is raw. I can tell the band has no experience, and the singer will be mute if she keeps going like this, but they’re screaming their unfiltered passion for the whole galaxy to hear. It’s beautiful, it’s awful. I hate what it is musically, but I want to live what it is emotionally. ‘So, what’d you think of the first song?’

‘It sounded very bad, but in a way that I enjoyed. It made me feel the way I only do in combat, so I think we should stop listening to it to be safe.’ ‘Whoa. That’s a bit of an – intense reaction. I mean, most people think it sounds enjoyably shitty, but that last part I mean. Like what do you think’s gonna happen if we keep listening?’ ‘I don’t know. It fills my body with energy and adrenaline, which I’m only used to discharging through combat. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.’ He’s laughing. Surely he doesn’t think three days of training is enough to hold his own against me.

‘Well yeah, no shit, it’s mosh music – you just need to get up and flail around, let the energy out. That’s how you’re supposed to feel.’ ‘I’m not used to using my body like that. Could you demonstrate?’ ‘It’ll look a bit dumb without music, but sure. You just get up and you kinda go like this.’ He looks ridiculous. His movements have no rhyme or reason whatsoever, completely unstructured. But that’s how the music sounded, and I liked that.

‘Alright, I think I’m ready to try. Put the music on, but at a lower volume for a dry run. We can reevaluate after.’ I understand the logic behind this combination. The wild abandon of these movements compliment the passionate carelessness of the composition, augmenting the feelings while keeping them from reaching critical mass. ‘I understand the concept now. You can turn the music back up.’

These songs all blend together, make the minutes pass quickly. An obvious consequence is that the longer I spend flailing, the higher my core temperature rises. ‘Pause the music please.’ ‘Oh, what’s wrong, is it not working out for you any more?’ ‘No. My armor is skin tight, and I’m starting to sweat. Those are an unpleasant combination. My civilian clothes also accommodate sweat poorly. Would you be bothered if I continued in my underwear?’

Bothered isn’t the reaction I expect, but outright asking if it would arouse him would only deepen any awkward feelings. Barrack life desensitized me to the sexual appeal of underwear, but after seeing the uniform of Vranki’s girls it’s hard not to be reminded of how other people see them. This is entertaining though, and I’d like to keep going without needing to scrub out my body glove.

‘W-well, I mean, Koben – I know you don’t know this so I’m not, like, expecting anything; but generally stripping down to your underwear while raving is kind of a thing that happens right before boning down.’ I can infer what that term means. ‘I assumed there were connotations. Keep your clothes on in that case, you don’t seem to be bothered by the exertion.’ ‘I’m cold blooded, so I guess I can’t relate. Fine, uhh, I’ll do my best to not overreact, but, well, I mean – don’t say I didn’t warn you if I do anything weird.’

‘If you try anything inappropriate, I’m more than capable of stopping you.’ ‘Right, yeah, just imagine you snapping my wrist, that’ll put a damper on things. Alright, sure, go ahead. Ill be here when you get back.’ ‘I don’t need to walk back to my room just to take my armor off.’ ‘Hey that’s great, glad to hear it – I just realized I could do with a trip to the bathroom, maybe a glass of water. How long does it take to get out of that suit?’ ‘Under three minutes.’ ‘Cool, sounds good. You just go ahead and turn the music back on and keep dancing if you’re out of it when I get back. I’ve listened to this album like a hundred times, you can tell me about it when you’re done.’

Much better. The armor doesn’t hamper my range of movement by any meaningful amount, but the weight of it makes my movements a little more deliberate. That’s antithetical to what this music is about. It feels good. Symbolic. I’ve spent so long bound by rules and expectations that this is like a little act of rebellion, just for me. Not consequential enough to feel like I’m betraying the Empire, but personal enough to feel significant.

Why do I still care so much about the Empire? I’ve been a criminal for five years, and I killed my last connection to it when I left. Everything I’ve enjoyed since then has fallen afoul of it. Brayli’s beautiful curves are against bodily maintenance codes, this manor is built on crime, and I used to get called in to shut down concerts that sounded just like this.

I guess I still feel like I owe them for saving me from the mines, but I spent the next fifteen years working for them. I must have paid off my debt to them in that time. They even said I was one of the best soldiers they had. I hunted Jedi! Yeah, this shrieking woman has it right. “Fuck the Empire” indeed. The music stopped, the album must be over.

IV

‘So how’d you like the album?’ ‘Jaxon, why were you just watching me from the doorway?’ ‘Well for one thing, you were flailing so hard you’d have probably knocked me out if I’d tried to join you.’ ‘I see. It wasn’t that my underwear was too revealing?’ ‘Nah. When you first mentioned it I thought you were wearing like a bra and panties or something – that’s basically just a summer outfit, it’s fine. Guess military underwear can’t be too revealing or else you’d have been too busy fuckin’ and suckin’ to get anything done.’ ‘If that happened the Empire would find a way to streamline the process so it didn’t impede our work.’ Good to be able to joke about the soldier life with somebody.

‘The other reason is you were smiling, and it looked really nice on you. I mean you look really nice all the time, but like this wasn’t in a sexy way. You just looked like you were having a fun time, and I didn’t want you to feel self conscious knowing I was there. Sorry if you do now though, I guess.’ ‘I don’t. I’m glad to hear it, in fact. Smiling isn’t something I do often, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable to be complimented on it.’ ‘You feel uncomfortable getting compliments?’

Enough people have said I’m attractive at this point that I suppose the only logical way to continue is to start thinking it’s true. It took hours of back and forth with the bacta engineer to decide how to make my body look, and Tessa took a vested interest in giving me suggestions – but she told me that she was tailoring it to look good to her. ‘My old girlfriend told me that my body was a guilty pleasure she let herself indulge in, and that I should keep it hidden from other people so it doesn’t scare them. So when someone compliments it, I feel like there must be something wrong with them, and that I shouldn’t accept compliments from someone like that.’

He’s stunned. I’ve been starting to think that must not be the case lately, considering Brayli is so sweet, and Seline is such an expert, and they were both attracted to me. Jaxon is a teenage boy – they’re not exactly known for being very discerning about their taste in women, but the three of them together make a well rounded panel of judges.

‘Koben, I don’t even know what to say. I kind of want to ask my dad to put out a hit on your ex girlfriend right now.’ ‘She’s already dead.’ ‘Oh, good, glad to hear it. You’re – okay, I’ve been trying not to say it because you’re my teacher and all; but it sounds like you could do with having it spelled out for you – so do I have permission? I’m not gonna keep myself from getting, uhh, graphic about it.’ ‘Proceed.’ It sounds like I could use an outside perspective.

‘You’re really hot. Like, I mean, holy shit. I know we kind of already went through this a couple days ago, but clearly you don’t get it. Those muscles of yours? Hot as hell. Half the time when you threaten to put me in a headlock it turns me on. There’s a – I don’t really expect you to know anything about this, but there’s like an entire category of adult holovids dedicated to muscular women, and you’re even more built than most of them.’ ‘Do you browse this category often?’ ‘H-hey, c’mon, focus here!’ I suppose so, from that response. He has no reason to be lying, so I guess muscles on women are considered attractive.

‘Your ex-military look is also a huge turn on. The way you carry yourself, your resting expression, the scar: I mean you even said it yourself how hot you were for your old teacher, that’s how I feel about you! Or at least, how I felt – we’re friends so I don’t really see that any more when I look at you, I just see Koben, but before we really got to know each other I definitely could see you levying out “punishment”, if you get my meaning.’ ‘I do. This is a lot to take in, but keep going.’ Maybe I should have put that one together on my own. I guess I just thought most people grew out of liking being punished because they didn’t feel so guilty.

‘This is – well, fuck it I guess, I’m already oversharing. Sometimes when you’re not in your armor I can see just like a tiiiiny bit of bush poking out of your waistband and shirt, and that’s just really hot. Like, sometimes implication is a lot hotter than just flat out seeing it, and combined with how you’re not even trying to do it it just – I’m running out of ways to say it.’ Huh. I wanted to get rid of that hair because it gets caught in the body glove if I don’t shave it often enough, but Tessa insisted on keeping it.

‘It’s starting to sound like everything about me is attractive. But that makes no sense to me. I’m not trying to be attractive, so how could I be doing it?’ Nobody ever felt this way about the other soldiers.

‘Because you’re a woman! You’re a woman who’s being herself, and that’s one of the hottest things a woman can be! A lot of the prostitutes dad sometimes hires for guests aren’t half as sexy as you are because they’re obviously putting a ton of effort into it, and like; I appreciate that effort, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it feel fake. How obviously you’re not trying to be sexy is the sexiest thing about you!’ Oh. I guess I am a woman to people. Now it all makes sense. I’ve felt this way about women for a long time.

‘I see. I never really felt like a woman. No, that’s not true: I never felt like other people felt I was a woman. My ex always told me that it would be best for me to wear the armour around other people, because they could tell I used to be a man anyway. That she was the only one who could accept me for what I was.’ ‘Hey Koben, you gave me permission to say anything about you – could you extend that to your ex real quick?’ ‘Granted.’

‘Fuck her. She sounds like a cunt, and you must have had horrible taste in women to fall for her. I hope since then you’ve come to your senses on that at least, because she must’ve really done a number on you if it took me spelling out how hot you are for you to realize it.’ Maybe she did. ‘Thank you. I’ve had moments where I thought similar things about her, but I always figured she must have known better than me since she was my superior officer, and a real woman.’

‘Look I’m gonna be honest – at this point it sounds like everything she said about you must have been wrong. You’re hot, you’re a real woman, and if you really need more proof: let me go find you one of the dancer outfits, take a few pictures of you, put them up online, and check back tomorrow to see what people have to say.’ I trust him. He’s too awkward to lie anyway. I can see myself in his mirror right now. If I saw a woman who looked like this, I’d be pretty turned on too. He’s right. I am a real woman.

I really can’t thank him enough for saying all this. Hopefully being able to laugh about it will get the point across. ‘Nice try you little pervert, your father doesn’t have enough credits to put me in one of those outfits.’ ‘Ah well, I had to try. You ready for lunch?’

[heavenmcde]

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 ➤ 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑼𝑴𝑨 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑬𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵

this is gonna be a bit of a deeper dive involving claire and these topics . as they may include triggering issues , i have placed it under a readmore .

after reading another post about this , i wanted to dive into this area for my claire and how that may affect her future interactions with others . will update this when ever i have more thoughts about the topics or want to clarify my ideas .

claire's major problem when it comes to these two areas is that she will absolutely put everyone's issues above her own . part of it is due to guilt , that she doesn't feel like her issues are as important as others . this stems a lot from watching chris having to become her carer while he was also grieving the loss of their parents , how much more he had to go through to have to provide for and support his younger sister . she would often bush off her own insecurities and thoughts as not to give her brother more to suffer with than he already had .

her other problem when it comes to her trauma and depression is avoidance . claire keeps herself busy and surrounded by people because then she will be too preoccupied to worry about the demons that slowly get closer day by day . she throws herself into work , chases chris around and checks in on everyone that she cares about to make sure that they are okay . if she's too busy to think about them , they can't get to her .

it is why she struggles mostly when there are longer periods of time that she is alone , work isn't as busy as it was and the people she cares about are unreachable . this is where the little things become more noticable , she will become more withdrawn , her sleepless nights increase and it seems like extra effort to indulge in her hobbies . her place will be messier , and she puts things off until she really needs something done . this is when the more negative thoughts start to come through , ones that she might brush off at first like 'what if i just didn't wake up tomorrow' and even more ' what ifs ' . her lows are rough and she needs time and support to come out of them , if she lets someone see her this way . its another reason why she struggles so much with the events prior, during and after china because she really would consider doing something if she had lost everyone .

where she normally puts up the sunnier more positive front , claire's trauma will usually show up within her dreams , strong nightmares that have her flailing in her sleep and ringing with sweat afterward.. while this is a side most people will not get to see , and claire herself would say she can live on a few hours sleep , this will become a topic that has to be addressed with romantic parnters . yes , there will be fewer of them when she has company , but it means the ones she does have are even worse .

[forgottenyear]

We were working on a project all day. I would rather be doing that than winding down for sleep. Groceries tomorrow, so there is an interruption. Meals are interruptions. Everything conspires against projects.

There is never enough time for projects. Not really. There is always something to interfere.

Also, projects would go better would I be less capable at losing things. I can sit in the middle of an empty room, set a thing down, and have irretrievably lost it. Today I kept losing my magnifying glasses and my flashlight, and tools, and tools, and tools.

When there are fewer interruptions,

when we can just work,

when the clock stays at normal speed,

all is right.

But maybe less so much about the last one. The clock should remain at normal speed only because hours should take hours. I mean, I should get the full hour for the time. It is not fair that days can pass before I realize.

Or,

that could be the part I like most.

It is peaceful. It is so very peaceful. And it stinks that the day flies by so quickly.

I did pack everything up and put it away, the tools and whatnot. I waited until late to do so. I also broke to make and eat dinner, although we were back at it as I was finishing the meal.

I do not want to leave the peacefulness. But we have an agreement that we will maintain the body.

It was not so bad, to go so long without eating and whatnot, when we were young. This body became less forgiving of such shenanigans as we got older.

Even still.

I like the peacefulness. The feeling that we are appropriately unified.

But I do not know if we are unified, or if I find peace by switching out.

I am sure that I am making no sense, so I will stop trying and just get some sleep already.

[pornaddictioncounseling]

YOU NEED THE LOWS

A few weeks ago I had a pretty rough experience. We had a lot going on at Elevated Recovery. We were hiring new team members and had a few projects simultaneously in the works. These crunch periods are always a time of ongoing work where I get by on four or five hours of sleep because I’m determined to accomplish our goals.

However, three weeks into the crunch period my body completely shut down. I had a full day of coaching the day before and when I woke up the following morning I was in full-blown panic mode. I have maybe one or two random panic attacks each year but this was the worst one I’ve had in a long time. I not only had anxiety and depressive thoughts but also horrible flu-like symptoms.

I couldn’t get out of bed so I texted my assistant, canceled all my appointments, and took the day off. I was so photosensitive that I could only look at my phone for as long as it took to contact my assistant. I did nothing but hydrate and slowly get through the day. I even experienced some occasional hallucinations throughout the feverish period. It was a brutal day.

Over the years I’ve learned that I can’t fight when these things happen. Instead, I become very present and observe myself. I settle into a state of mindfulness and watch what I experience both internally and externally. It was the only option I had during this day of panic because I couldn’t do much of anything else.

When I finally made it through the night and woke up the next morning, though, all the pressure I felt from the weeks of crunch time was gone. I had no fewer deadlines than I did the day before my panic attack. There were still hundreds of people who needed our support. I knew that taking the day off made the workday harder for some of my colleagues. But I still felt no pressure. In fact, I had absolute clarity on what steps to take next.

I reflected on those 24 hours of panic and physical incapability over the following days. I normally take Mondays off but realized I hadn’t taken one off in the three weeks of crunch leading up to the panic attack. I was going all out. I woke up and put on the positive, upbeat, go-getter persona, and took on the day. And eventually, it wore me out.

I bet you’ve had a few of these experiences, too. Everyone burns out eventually when they live and work with the pedal to the floor. You have to hit pause sometimes to avoid completely crashing and burning, but sometimes it takes the low points to remember this. That’s exactly what happened to me. I spent the weeks before the panic attack avoiding pausing and instead pushing to finish everything that we needed to do.

It’s essential that you set limits for yourself and establish boundaries around your schedule. You have to carve time out for yourself or life will find a way of carving it out for you. If you aren’t proactive about taking a break, your body will force you to take one eventually. 

These lows aren’t an enjoyable experience but at the same time, they’re a great reminder and reset point. You can use the break to determine what’s most important and calibrate your focus to accomplish those tasks. You need the lows to remind you of why a break is such an important part of the process.

This is especially important for men in the Porn Addiction Counseling program. While everyone hits the wall at times, men with a porn addiction problem have more to lose. You’re more likely to act out and engage in your compulsive behavior when you reach one of these low points. You have to take breaks before your body demands one of you.

The Porn Reboot program equips you with the self-awareness and discipline to know when it’s time to hit pause. The low points are a necessary part of the Porn Reboot process but you get the chance to use them to your benefit today instead of letting them use you.

[your-dietician]

What Can I Do For My Sciatica And Leg Pain?

New Post has been published on https://backtherapyhealth.com/what-can-i-do-for-my-sciatica-and-leg-pain/

What Can I Do For My Sciatica And Leg Pain?

If you look around, you have probably met countless people with lower back pain, often at times with accompanying pain down the back of the leg, known as Sciatica.

WHAT IS SCIATICA?

Sciatica sufferers often have severe pain along the sciatic nerve path, usually in the back of the legs and thighs, sometimes to the ankle, foot and toes. Not only is there searing, sharp pain but can also display as an abnormal sensation; nerve experiences such as pins and needles, burning, tingling, prickling, crawling sensations or tenderness. For some individuals the pain is in the front or side of the legs, or even both legs.

THE PAIN VARIES

For sciatica sufferers, a good night’s sleep might be a thing of the past. Simple things like walking, bending, turning, sitting, or standing often at times can be difficult or near impossible. Often at times there may be constant throbbing, with pain letting up for hours or even days, only to return a short while later. Intensity may also vary; it may ache or be knife-like. Sometimes postural changes like lying down or changing position affect the pain.

CAUSES OF SCIATICA

Like most other conditions, sciatica has a wide variety of causes, with the most common cause being due to its relationship to the spinal column. A misaligned spine, a protruded or ruptured disc can irritate the sciatic nerve which may result in sciatica. Physical trauma such as motor vehicle accidents, cumulative repetitive traumas, such as sitting for long hours, or even gardening, golf and other movements which places abnormal pressure on the lower back have been related to sciatica. Other causes of sciatica have been reported following slips and falls, injuries, and even childbirth, often at times due to spinal misalignments.

THE CHIROPRACTIC APPROACH

It has been shown by the US Health Department that uninjured people who visit a chiropractor have 50% fewer injuries than those that do not. Let your chiropractor help you to save time by operating at top efficiency and health, and not band-aiding your spinal condition.

Chiropractors correct poor spinal alignment using spinal adjustments to relieve pressure on the spinal nerves, joints and discs. Throughout our lives, we have our teeth, blood pressure, and eyes checked on a regular basis, but do we ever have our spines checked?

When your spine becomes misaligned it could damage (impinge or ‘pinch’) the nerves it is designed to protect. Spinal misalignment can upset the delicate workings of our nervous system, which can contribute to such secondary conditions as pain, numbness, and biomechanical issues. Ask any mechanic about the importance of tire alignment, and they will tell you that not checking wheel alignment on a regular basis can lead to auto inefficiencies and potentially thousands of dollars in damages. And yet, if you do have sciatica, chiropractic spinal correction is needed, which entails a unique, specific plan.

HOW DO YOU CHOOSE THE RIGHT CHIROPRACTOR?

Much like an orthodontist that straightens teeth, our practice does a thorough evaluation including orthopedic and neurological testing, radiographs, and establishes a specific spinal corrective plan using a variety of methods including corrective spinal restorative equipment to straighten your spine from the front, and change the spinal curves from the side view closer to its proper, normal structure, to remove pressure off of your discs and nerves. Ever seen a chain, where one link is skewed? The chain doesn’t function as well and loses its integrity; much like your spine can lose its strength and integrity should it be misaligned.

Those suffering from sciatica and leg pain would do well to visit a Doctor of Chiropractic. To many sciatic and lower back pain sufferers, our unique approach of spinal correction has been a blessing. Our Chiropractic approach is active, working to strengthen you now, so that conditions will not “suddenly” crop up to plague you again.

Source by Dr. Chad Laurence

[allhelpful]

What is the definition of diabetes?

Share your love

Diabetes means we can easily understand sugar, it means increasing sugar levels in your body. This is a chronic metabolic disease. Insulin is a hormone that moves sugar from the blood to your cells. Diabetes occurs when your body either doesn’t make enough insulin or can’t effectively use the insulin it makes.

it’s a different way to define but normally we understand it as increasing sugar in the blood. It happens to your daily life how is your daily life. Because you eat carbs like white rice, white bread, and sugary food or sugary drink.

Big impact on your health if not treated on time.

Lets know that impact  

If a high level of blood increases in sugar then damages many organs like, your heart, blood vessels, eyes, kidneys, and nerves.

According to the WHO worldwide diabetes patient 422 million people. This number maximum belongs to low and middle-income countries. And 1.5 million deaths are directly attributed to this disease each year. 

General symptoms of diabetes

Which is given below 

Increase hunger

Weight loss

Increase thirst

Frequent urination

A wound that won’t heal

IT’s two type

There are mainly two types

1)Type 1

2)Type 2

and another introduction is Gestational diabetes 

What is type 1 diabetes?

Type 1 diabetes is also known as a chronic disease. In people who have type 1, cells in the pancreas that make insulin are destroyed, because the body can not make insulin.

Insulin is a type of hormone that helps our body’s cells use glucose(sugar) for energy. our body needs energy for work or any type of daily life activities, so our body needs energy, that energy taken from glucose. So…

Where Your body  get glucose ? Let’s check together

Simply ,when we eat food then our body makes glucose .

Insulin allows the glucose to pass from your blood into your body’s cells.

How does it work?

 When the cell has enough, your muscles and liver store extra glucose in the form of glycogen.This glycogen breaks down into blood sugar and releases energy between meals,while you need sleep or exercise.

If you have type 1 diabetes, your body is unable to process glucose due to insulin.

Glucose from your food doesn’t get into your cells. Too much glucose circulates in your blood. High glucose levels can lead to both long- and short-term problems.

Given below symptoms of type 1

Excessive hunger

Excessive thirst

Blurred vision

Fatigue

Frequent urination

Weight loss in a short period of time

Feel very tired

Have very dry skin 

What is type 2 diabetes ?

Normally, in type 2 diabetes,our body isn’t able to effectively use insulin bring   

Type 2 diabetes symptoms

Type 2 diabetes symptoms given below:

Increased hunger

Increased thirst

Increased urination

Blurry vision

Tiredness

Wound that is slow to heal

Blood sugar levels: if someone has a blood sugar level than 140 mg/dl is normal. A reading of more than 200mg/dl after two hours indicates diabetes. A reading between 140 and 199mg/dl indicates prediabetes.

Higher risk of diabetes: if you have this type of thing which one given below then it might be a higher risk.

You are overweight or obsessed.

You have a family history.

High blood pressure.

Have depression.

You are not physically active.

According to NIH(link generated) if you have this thing then it’s a higher chance of suffering from this disease.

How to prevent diabetes?

If you need to prevent then according to the national institute of diabetes and digestive and kidney disease of the US department. First, you need to go to medical care and check your blood sugar level, heart, and blood pressure. then focus on this point which is given below.

Lose your weight.

You do some physical exercise.

Time to time I meet with a health center and take advice from your doctor and take medicine.

Eating fewer calories.

Managing diabetes without insulin. According to some experts who work in the medical field, some tips can help you.

Eat a well-balanced diet.

Get an aerobic class five days (a week).

Get good sleep.

Complete two sessions of muscle-strengthening activity per week.

                 Conclusion: This is a chronic metabolic disease. According to the WHO worldwide diabetes patient among 422 million and the general symptoms are given below. increase hunger, weight loss, increase thirst, and frequent urination. there are two types of diabetes type 1 and type 2. If you want to balance your diabetes then do these things, eat a well-balanced diet, get good sleep, and exercise.

[nightwishesworld]

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

**************

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

*******************************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

*******************************************************************************************

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

[struggling-with-time]

The Man That Is Wilbur Soot [Wilbur Soot x reader]

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender neutral!reader

Summary: Inspired by the Song Honey Honey by ABBA aka I took the line "I'd heard about you before I wanted to know some more"

Warnings: Fluff?

Words: 3.4K

Masterlist: Wilbur’s Masterlist - Event Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: This was made for my ABBA event. Check it out here! (Also requests are still open! Click here!) btw, this was supposed to be like 1k

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You had heard about Wilbur Soot before. Everyone had heard about Wilbur Soot the President of L’Manberg. The guy who stood up to the Tyrant Dream of the SMP. And came out victorious, unlike the others whose life has been lost to the Tyrant, and their names to the passage of time.

You can’t say, he didn’t intrigue you enough, for you to set out on the dangerous journey that is crossing the SMP. Because he did. His country did. The ideals that you’ve heard about did. Everything intrigued you enough to leave your village behind and track into the world.

So that’s what you did, backpack on your shoulders, map in hand. You set into the big world, on the tracks to the dangerous country that the SMP is. You barely get out of the village before you are able to hitch a ride.

It’s a merchant that is headed for one of the villages closer to the border. It’s a bigger village than your own. The name rings a bell, maybe a traveller has mentioned it when passing by. So you hitch the ride, he tells you about his trades. He’s a merchant of fabrics, listing many places you haven’t even heard of. But there is one that catches your attention.

“You’ve been to L’Manberg?”

“Before it became independent yes.”

“Tell me about it!”

And the merchant does, for the entirety of the ride. He talks about the few people that resided there when he passed through the back then settlement. You beg him to tell each detail he can remember. And he happily provides. You take note of every you hear in your notebook. Your travel journal. Your… well diary.

He’s a good man, you note to yourself when he pulls into the bigger villages. The sun on the horizon.

You’re much further than you thought you would be on your first day.

This is going to be a good trip.

---

This is going to be a horrible trip.

You’ve been wandering for days, the closer to the border of the SMP, the fewer carts had come by, and even fewer willing to take a traveller with them.

You sigh as you watch the sun starting to set, and you are forced to make camp once more. It has been days since you last slept in a bed. To be exact 16 days. You had only managed to stay in an inn for the first night, realising your small amount of money wouldn’t get you far if you spent it all on beds.

You are reminded of the people whom you met that first night, a girl who talked about how President Soot had come by the town in his own travels to the SMP, and she had met him. No not just met him. She had spent the night with him.

And you just couldn’t help yourself, you had to quill your curiosity somehow, so you had once again asked for details, and she had provided.

The fire you get going is better than the last one. Not that the last one had ever turned into a fire. It had rained in the morning, and most of the wood you could find yesterday was still wet by the time you wanted to settle down.

But today, you had been lucky, it had been sunny all day, leading to being able to find dry sticks and a couple of pieces of logs. That you could make into a fire.

A clear stary night over your head as you turn in for the night. Hoping to get at least a couple of hours out of the fire to keep you warm. And to keep the mobs away. Knowing you still have a couple of days of wandering left before you will reach the borders of the SMP. You sigh as you jolt down the few interesting pieces of the day in your notebook.

Not that anything of importance actually happened. But maybe out there someone would read your notebook and find the fact that you saw a parrot in a birch forest be found interesting.

---

You have under half a day of walking left when a cart is willing to pick you up. Turning the hours of walking into a mere hour in the cart. You can feel yourself squirm in your seat as the silence falls upon you and the woman who picked you up.

“…So… Why are you heading to the border?”

She lets you sit in silence.

Rude much?

But… You can’t really call her rude, she was nice enough to pick you up and take you to the border. Where she very unceremoniously dropped you off, and headed off east, seemingly following the border never crossing it. She was… weird.

You instead tighten your back, and head over to the guarded tollbooth. A man looking bored out of his mind and close to sleep sits there. Not even having registered the cart that was there moments ago.

How often do people come through here?

The thought crosses your mind. You know it isn’t one of the main border entrances. You know of one that lies further west. But still, a good 2 to 3 days travel away. Besides you’re pretty sure someone told you the toll at the busy entrances is higher than the ones people rarely use.

But now that you are here and can read the price yourself. It seems the person had either lied to you, or the price at the main entrances are a lot higher than you could ever think about paying.

An idea strikes you, maybe… Just maybe… The guard will fall asleep. Just maybe. You linger on the side of the road. Seemingly interested in the plants nearby. You start jotting down stuff in your notebook. Taking note of the size of the leaves, the colour. You mumble the information to yourself.

Your eyes keep glancing over, as his head slumps down further and further.

It barely takes you a few more minutes of stalling before the guard is full-on snoring. You barely catch yourself nearly letting out a sound in victory.

Silent. Right. No noise.

You can do this. You can sneak past him. You can be silent.

You suck in a breath, as you start moving as slowly as you’ve ever done in your life. Hoping to the sky gods the slowness helps you with being silent. And it does, to some extent. But your backpack still rustles around, and the loose stones on the pathway still skirt across the dirt.

But he keeps sleeping, and before you know it, you’ve managed to sneak past him. Sneak into a country. You did it!

You decide your celebration is best celebrated far from here, and you make your way on the now stone path.

---

It takes you a couple of days before you hit your first village. You’re surprised by this. Normally there is a city around half a days’ time from most border crossings. But this is the SMP. The fact that its citizens aren’t exactly allowed to leave. Is more than public knowledge in other countries. They are under the rule of a Tyrant after all.

You figure it’s time to sleep in a real bed, you deserve it.

You head straight into the in, it’s barely past lunch, but there is a plentiful of people in there already. You stumble a bit at the sight, you had expected a couple of patrons, not a room full of people. But nonetheless, you make your way to the bar.

Conversations bustling around you, a waiter running around, and either the innkeeper themselves behind the bar, or just a barkeeper. You aren’t exactly sure. But you wave them down anyway. Maybe she can help you find the innkeeper and ask for a room.

“Well, hello there, you look exhausted.” Your shoulders sink further down at the comment. Did you really look that bad?

“I was wondering if you had a room I could rent?” you ignore the rude comment and stick to politeness.

“I figured.”

“… So um… Do you have a room free?” You try once again.

“Sorry hun, but if you hadn’t noticed we are full right now.” You completely deflate at the answer. In return, she takes pity on you. “But if you ask around over at the stables, someone might let you on as a passenger and take you to the next city. It’s half a day by cart, so you might just catch one if you’re fast.”

You beam up that answer, profusely thanking her, before running back into the street. Before realising you have no clue where the stables are.

It takes you two people, and three wrong turns to find the stables. And nobody is preparing any carts when you get there. Just a guy saddling his own horse.

Ah well, it never hurts to ask.

You approach the guy.

“Hi!”

He looks a bit confused when you stand across from him, on the other side of the horse.

“Um… good evening?”

You smile at him.

“Can I help you?” He speaks slowly.

“Ah yes! Sorry! I’m a bit out of it. I’m trying to get to the next town over.” You happily tell him.

“And you’re telling me this because…” He trails off. Leaving time for you to answer, instead, you leave him hanging. Until he coughs.

“Because…” He repeats.

“Because I was thinking, maybe you were heading that way.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I can pay…” You try.

“Well then, why didn’t you start with that.” He looks you and your baggage up and down twice before clicking his tongue. “We can make this work. Do you know how to hold on?”

You nod, and he settles onto his horse, waiting for you to do the same. You manage to hoist yourself up and onto the horse. It doesn’t even flinch at the added weight. You’re thankful to the sky gods for that.

He rides the two of you out of town and onto the road for the next town.

“What’s someone like you this far out in the country?”

“I’m a traveller.” You tell him.

“To the border? So you could look at it and head home?” He snorts.

“No no, I’m not from the SMP, I’m just travelling through. I’m headed to L’Manberg.” He snorts once more.

“L’Manberg? That bunch of spoiled brats.”

“Spoiled brats?”

He laughs this time.

“Don’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“You truly aren’t from these parts.” He comments, and let the conversation fade out after that.

You don’t question the man, instead just pays him as the sun starts to set, and you are once again in an unfamiliar village. At this point, you barely remember the route you used to take in your home from your house to the baker.

Okay, that’s a lie, that is a route that is embedded into your mind, that you could sleepwalk it. For the sole reason that the route had you pass the library. Which was a place you spent a lot of time. Especially after finding out about the interesting man of Wilbur Soot.

Some books portrayed him as a traitor of the SMP, others the hero of the folk. But every single depiction had one thing in common. That he was an interesting enough man for people to want to write about him.

And that made you interested in him. He had started a revolution in a country that wasn’t his. You weren’t sure where he was from. None of the books in your village had mentioned that.

You head into the inn, this time, it’s bustling from evening patrons, but nowhere as lively as the one in the previous town. The reception this time has a separate table. Which you welcome happily. This means you don’t have to cross another sea of half-drunken people you don’t know.

However once again, the inn is full.

What’s going on here?

This one is even larger than the other one and seemingly has fewer patrons. But you take the rejection with a head held high. Thank them for their time, as you head into the now dark streets.

You sit now on a couple of steps, you’re tired, exhausted, and just want to sleep in a bed.

The door opens.

You nearly leave your skin in shock. You had expected the owner to be asleep. Instead, an elderly lady stands there.

“Would you look at that? It seems I have a guest.” She speaks.

“No no, I’m just passing through, I’m sorry I just needed to rest for a moment. I’m sorry. I’ll be on my way!” You ramble on as you scramble from the stone step.

“Nonsense.” She tsks at you. “Come in you poor child.”

She steps back into the house, leaving the door open.

“You coming? Close the door after you, it gets so terrible cold at night.”

You find yourself following her. Closing the door after yourself. You carefully put down your backpack as she ushers you into a seat in the kitchen. Setting a plate of hot steaming soup in front of you. You nearly drool at the sight. You can’t remember the last time you had warm food. Especially not warm homemade food.

You are quick to dig in, and she laughs warmly at you. You feel comfortable here.

“Why were you out in the street this late? That’s no safe place to be.”

You stop the spoon still in your mouth. She laughs once again, but the kind air around her never leaves. You swallow and pull out the spoon.

“I’m making my way to L’Manberg.” You tell her.

“Ah, L’Manberg. I’ve heard about that place. President Soot right?”

“Yes, yes.” You nod at her. “Wilbur Soot.”

“Ah, the Antarctic prince.”

You stop once again.

“The what?”

“The Antarctic Prince?”

You hum.

“Ah my dear, President Soot is the second born of King Philza from the Antarctic Empire.”

You stare at her; this was new information. She laughs once more. You are quick to grab your notebook and write down the new information. How had something this important not been mentioned before? This explains so much to you. And it eagers you even more to continue the trip.

The man of Wilbur Soot only seems to keep getting more and more interesting as each day passes.

The kind lady offers you a bed and a bath.

You are more than happy to receive both. Although you would never admit that to anyone that you could barely recognise yourself in the mirror. And for the second realisation that night. You understood why the innkeepers didn’t want you around.

You’ve never slept as good as you did that night during your travels.

---

You stretch as you can feel the scorching heat of the sun above you. It has been three weeks since you left the kind lady. She had asked for her son to help you move deeper into the country, so you were closer to the border you are desperately trying to reach.

You had travelled with her son for about a week, when he had to start heading more west than south, you had thanked him as much as his mother. But he had brushed you off that having a travelling partner was nice, and that you if came back through he would love to hear stories of the famous L’Manberg and its citizens.

The map you had brought seems to not be well mapped in the SMP. It wasn’t something you were unprepared for, but it did surprise you how little it truly resembled the mapping of the roads.

But a map is a map, and a destination is a destination. So you head onwards.

And onwards…

And onwards…

And onwards…

Sometimes meeting other travellers now that you are deeper in the countries. The nights where you aren’t alone passes faster than the ones where you are.

You hear stories of L’Manberg you have never heard before, and retellings of events but in other perspectives.

It seems a lot of people have a lot of opinions on the small country. But you understand, you too would have a lot of opinions if a city suddenly started wanting independence from its country.

It takes you weeks before you start coming across people who have been near L’Manberg regularly. It gives you a sign of hope. You’re getting closer, your journey is reaching its destination.

---

It’s storming the day you spot the country on the horizon. It’s still storming by the time you reach the country. The SMP toll guard is seemingly nowhere nearby and you pass the border with ease this time. Luckily for you. Or else you would have to explain why a traveller like you didn’t have travel papers.

You had expected to be met with one of the cities of the small country immediately. But it seems they are further from the border. And by further, it takes you an hour at foot-travel to meet the capital of the small country.

The streets are bustling.

That’s when it hits you.

You’ve made it.

You’ve actually made it.

You might look mad, but you let out a laugh right then and there. A laugh of relief. A laugh of victory. A laugh of … being alive.

“Having fun there?”

You turn around, to be met with the eyes of a stranger. A tall brown-haired stranger, nonetheless.

“Yeah, I just… Yeah.” You trail off. You eye him up and down, he’s cute. You put your hand out to present yourself, your name, the country you came from, and the name of the village you used to live in.

“Wilbur Soot, President of L’Manberg.” He returns with a smile. You barely listen to his words. Too captured by his smile. When…

Oh.

Oh, sky gods.

This is the man.

This beautiful human being of a man is the man.

“You alright there?” He asks as he watches you falter for a moment.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine. More than fine actually.” You tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You smile at him, and he smiles back.

“So, what are you doing here? You are an awful long way from home.”

He starts walking, and you fall in step with him.

“I’m here to see the country. I’ve heard a lot about it.” Leaving out the unsaid, I’ve heard a lot about you. He didn’t need to know yet, just how intriguing you found him.

You follow him down the street as he points a couple of things out, a couple of buildings, a couple of people. You listen and stop to note something down a couple of times, and he waits, patiently. Until he leads you to the local inn.

He holds the door open.

“A drink?”

“Yes please.”

He finds the two of you a booth, and you easily fall into conversation.

He asks you about your hometown, you about his.

He asks about your journey, you ask about the revolution.

You continue this game of ping pong. And the further down your drinks you get, the more personal the conversation gets. The less you note down. Yet, the man himself never falters from being the most interesting thing you’ve ever encountered.

And the night moves along, your conversation following.

You don’t really know when his hand landed on your thigh. Or when your lips met his. But suddenly you’re stumbling into a room together.

His touch setting you on fire, and your touch egging him on.

Your head is spinning as your back hits the bed.

Your notebook is lying tucked away safely in your backpack, staying there all the way into midday when you finally wake up. Disorientated, confused, and hungover.

Sitting there in that bed, you can’t help but remember the words of the girl you met the first night. And you can’t help but agree with her. Wilbur Soot surely is a love machine.

You hear rustling beside you, and you turn your head.

He’s awake.

He’s watching.

He’s watching you.

You lazily smile at him.

And at that moment, there is nowhere else you would rather be.

You had heard about him before, and you wanted to know some more.

People later down the line found your meeting story anywhere from boring to fate. But one thing was sure, you entered L’Manberg with one goal in mind. And never left again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[ivyglow]

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

A/n: this idea came after we had a very sexy- I mean- Angry* Anthony pushing Sidney Crosby. Barbie and some anons send the good energy and so althought it took me forever here it is *cheers*. A huge thank you for @barbienoturbby​ for sending me some specific ideas (sharpies, choking etc hehehe), putting up w my random messages in the middle of the night or being a insecure bitch, ILY BARBIE! Huge shout out to @sebs-aston​ for proofreading this so fast *you’re amazing, liv!*.  PS. More than ever I’m gonna need your feedback because I’m an insecure bitch and this is my first time writing smut (freddie was thigh riding, I don’t consider it too much). So please just lmk if you like it or hate it <3 

Word count: 4k

Warnings: smut, mention of chocke, spitting, oral -female receiving- and all those dirty stuff. 

Summary: after getting angry on the ice, you decide to make Anthony angry in bed too. 

You knew Tito was a dom in bed as soon as you met him: he helped you to sit and to get up on your first date, and he led you to your car with his hand on your lower back. One month into getting to know each other, you were planning a gathering with his friends and he was the one to assign everyone with a task. Some days he would use fewer words and stick with hand gestures or eye contact to tell you what he wanted or what he was silently saying. 

So when you two had sex for the first time and he was on top, you were not surprised, you also weren’t surprised when he asked how would you feel about hair pulling, choking, and tying. And, well, you’d never tried any of this, so you were honest with him, knowing that honesty was the key to make things work. He promised to go slow, and he watched you intently while he did everything just to make sure you were comfortable. You can still remember how it felt when he first stretched you, how your heel went to his back to accommodate his waist better, how this movement gave him the perfect angle to go all the way until the end. 

You also remember the hickeys he left on your skin, mostly on places where your clothes could hide, but some you knew he purposely made for people to see. And people saw, indeed and also heard. He got a noise complaint twice because his old bed would scratch and bang on the wall, and that wouldn’t be a huge problem if it was anyone else, but it was Anthony, a hockey player, at that point -your boyfriend-, and he had the stamina to go for hours. A chug of water, maybe a fruit snack, and less than twenty minutes later he was ready to go again - or he would use these twenty minutes to get you off with his mouth and fingers. So the noise complaint was very much expected. 

Now six months into the relationship, this wasn’t a problem anymore. Tito bought a new bed, and even talked with a friend about the possibility of getting soundproof walls. That’s why you were drinking your water and eating one of his energy bars while watching the game. The dynamic after games was usually very sexual, it didn’t matter if he was on the road or at home, you would find a way to get off, either phone sex or spicy pics. He never left you to your own hands. 

The Isles were playing against the Penguins and you knew he was pissed off because of their losing streak against that team. That made him angry with some specifics players too. When he got home last night, you just cuddled together and went to sleep, he was tired and fuming because of their loss, and he probably heard a handful by his coach. Because of those losses, you knew he was going to skate his way around the ice tonight more than ever, and, especially, that he was angry. 

You were laying on his couch when the game started, the Isles skating around the ice in a way you would have bet was a premonition for another loss, but ten minutes in things started to go differently, and that was the exact moment when you sat and gripped Beau’s shirt before an amazing shot hit the Pens’ net. They kept the rhythm on for the next two periods, although they were pretty much stressful- a handful of times you caught yourself holding your breath or cursing. The last two were also a stage for your boyfriend’s anger. He was pissed in a way you’d never seen before on the ice, and when Sidney Crosby pushed Pulock, Tito had had enough and shoved the opposition’s player on the ice. Torn between finding it hot or funny, you chose the latter letting out a loud laugh. Yet, when another exchange of pushes happened between the Pens’ superstar and Beau you sure felt the heat taking up space inside your body and you shifted on the couch. There was another goal and the game kept on providing stress and anxiety for the fans, but you were stuck on the scene your boyfriend had just put up. 

He was usually like this in bed, but not that much on the ice, and seeing that happening outside the four walls left you with a lingering warmth inside your body, and not the cute warmth you usually felt when he cooked for you or told you how much he loved you. But the warmth you got whenever he bent you on the kitchen counter or held your hand tight while going down on you. 

It was past midnight when you heard the door open and close, the soft click making your heart beat faster. He was home. You heard the thud of his bag on the floor and his steps bringing his scent closer to the living room where you were sitting on the couch wearing only his jersey and his favorite lace.

“Hey you, winner,” your voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and you could see his lips curling in a small smile.

“Hey, babe,” his lips found yours on a quick peck and you looked up for more contact, but Anthony was already walking to the kitchen. 

“Are you ok?” you asked, barefoot padding the floor until you reached the stool.

Your boyfriend was already busy cutting some bananas in a bowl, “Yeah, just a little stressed with the game and hungry,” he answered.

“But you won,” you stated in confusion. 

His eyes scanned you for a second before going back to his task. The silence was everything you needed to know: he really was not in the mood for long talks after the episode, but you were a woman on a mission and you knew exactly what to do to get Anthony riddled up. 

“You guys had a great game…” you began, cautious with your words and actions, hands reaching for a banana on the fruit bowl. “How was playing against Sidney Crosby?”

You saw how his eyebrows raised slightly before pouring honey on his bowl and whipping his fingers with his tongue. You knew the action wasn’t supposed to be filthy, yet you’ve been dating him long enough to know that he knew every action of his could be seen as sexual at some point. 

“It was normal, he’s a normal hockey player like any of us,” his tone is nonchalant. 

You suppress a grin, “he’s not like any of you, he’s Sidney Crosby. Just last night he reached his thousandth game,” Tito’s now chewing on his fruit and you can see how the motion seems tighter after your words, still you keep going, “he’s like a superstar! I would love to meet him any of these days…” you trail off busying yourself on biting the banana you just peeled off. His eyes trained on how your lips wrap around the piece of fruit, your tongue purposely darting out. Your boyfriend chooses silence again and you huff rolling your eyes. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he queries, eyes on his bowl, jaw still clenched tight while biting another piece of his fruit. You dart your eyes in another direction while biting your banana again, this time without so much care on giving him a hard time. “I asked you a question, y/n,” his tone was sharp and his voice low. You shake your head. 

He grabs his water bottle before chugging half of the content, “Cat got your tongue? I swear I just saw you poking it out while eating that banana to provoke me,” he tauntingly  gives you a defiant look. 

Anthony motions for you to come to him and you follow his orders willingly, eager to finally have your way with him. You’re within arm’s reach when he tugs you closer, making you stumble in the middle of his big thighs. In a blink of an eye, you feel the sting on your butt cheeks, his big hands finding it again one more time before grabbing your chin. “You can’t even wait for your man to eat,” it’s a low grunt and he seems more annoyed with your playful smile, and you see the perfect opportunity to tease him a little bit more, “You could eat something else, there’s nothing stopping you…” 

With that Anthony seems to lose his judgment before swinging your body on top of the counter, “you’re being such a brat tonight” his hands grab your butt squeezing it hard, “that’s not how you get the things you want” 

“No? Then why are you about to fuck me?” you mock him knowing damn right that this would only make him go harder on you. 

“Crisse,” (holy shit) his French accent makes your pussy throb. You loved when he talked in French to you.

His big hand pushes you back in a swift motion, the same hand spreads your legs for him, and it’s only a second before you’re fully laying on the counter. Still wearing only a lace thong and his jersey, you know the former is about to be ripped out of you. Anthony drags his fingers from the bottom of your belly to your breasts before gifting you a devilish smirk as soon as he notices you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You think Sidney Crosby is the superstar, but you know damn well I’m gonna be the reason why you’re seeing stars tonight,” he whispers before sitting on the stool and kissing up to your thighs. His lips are sticky from the honey and because they’re cold it sends chills running through your warm body. You stretch your arms to reach his hair and he hums grabbing your wrists harshly, “no hair pulling for you tonight,” his murmurs hit your skin and you let out a small whine. 

In order to play with your sensations, you see him taking a long gulp of his cold water. You know it will make his mouth colder and slicker, and you know he’s only doing it because he’s planning to spend a long time between your legs.

And that he does.

You sigh when his lips finally reach your pussy, the shock it causes is good and you can’t help but close your thighs in an attempt to bring him where you are really yearning for his lips. Nevertheless, that’s not what he has planned for you, and he drags his mouth between your pussy lips long before finally wrapping his lips on your clit and humming in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck,” you let out a whine when his fingers reach for your nipple and twist it hard. His wet tongue flickered on your clit and he dived in deeper, making you feel all of him, from his stubble that was starting to grow to his full lips, you could feel it all.

“Anthony,” you try to form a sentence in the exact moment he pushs one finger inside of you, but your voice comes out as a prayer. A plea for more. 

You were a sinner for him.

“You taste so good,” it’s a pleasure mumble and it comes just before his palm strikes your butt cheeks in a firm slap. “I could spend days here, bébé” 

“Anthony,” you try again and this time he laughs with his lips still wrapped around your clit. The vibrations send shivers through your whole body, your toes curl and you try to reach for his hair again before his hand holds both of your wrists. 

You’re close and he knows it because he adds another finger and curls it. It’s a ‘come here’ motion and from another dimension, you were almost able to hear him whisper the same words in French. 

“Give it to me,” he demands, and you do as said just as another finger hits your right spot. For some seconds the kitchen’s ceiling turns black with dots and your vision goes blurry. Toes curling, the pitch on your belly button finally making its way out just like the curses and moans that leave your mouth. Most of them being his name and how good he makes you feel. 

You’re not even done with your high when his big hands grab your ankles bringing your body to the edge of the counter and making you sit. “Open your mouth,” he demands. 

You moan, eyes rolling back from pleasure, “put your tongue out for me, má chérie,” his hands, now holding your jaw, tighten around you. There’s a whimper of bliss and you part your lips wide bringing your tongue out just like demanded before he spits on your mouth. 

“See how good you taste?!” Anthony hums and you swallow it before poking your tongue out again and licking from his glistering chin to his lips. The action fuels a passionate kiss and it’s seconds before your weak legs wrap themselves around his waist bringing him closer. Your core finds the bulge on his pants and you whimper feeling aroused again. 

Your boyfriend is fast to grasp the underside of your thighs bringing your body close to his before making his way towards the bedroom. You take your time licking and kissing his neck and jaw until your body hits the mattress and he’s unbuckling his belt.

“Take it off” he commands, unbuttoning his dress shirt. You’re fast to obey taking off the jersey you’re wearing, now you’re fully naked in front of him. 

“Hands,” you put both of your wrists together and he fastens his belt around it tight. 

From the way his eyebrows were slightly up to his lips parted, you knew he was about to give you another orgasm, you knew that he wasn’t done and he wouldn’t be any time soon. 

“Do we have a safe word tonight, bébé?” his full lips find your jaw and neck and he nibbles on your ear before sucking harshly on your neck again. 

His purpose is to mark you, not only where people can see, but also where they can’t. Just like your waist is being held with such fierceness, you know it’ll leave prints there. You hum a yes dropping your head to the side so he can have more access to your skin, “use your words, you know I need to hear you say it,” he whispers now bringing his mouth to your nipples and biting it lightly. You whimper, “our safe word is blue.” 

“Perfect,” you can feel his smile on your skin and when you reach for his hair with your hands tied, he pushes them up. His strong arm swings on top of your belly and he takes his time on your breasts before making his way lower. There’s a pitch bubbling on your belly again just with the idea of it and he gives you mischievous grim kissing and licking your thighs. 

“Beau,” you whine already feeling your legs weakening again.

“I told you I was hungry, you were the one who suggested the meal,” the funny remark is accompanied by a flicker of his tongue on your cunt. “Now I’ll only stop when I’m satisfied.” 

You curse closing your hands and trying to bring your waist up. He shakes his head, “huh huh, that’s a bad girl attitude,” he spits on your pussy and you moan loud, “and you know exactly what we do to bad girls in this house, don’t you?” 

You nod and he chuckles.

“Words.” 

“I know, sir.” 

“Now, there’s my good girl,” he praises finding your clit and holding it carefully between his teeth, “now give it to me just like you suggested,” he murmurs before diving on your pussy, his tongue gentle and slow, in contrast with his solid arm pinning you to the bed and his rough behavior. 

It would be a long ride and you would feel every step taken, because each one would bring you closer to the inevitable. You felt urgency though; you wanted him to fuck your brains out already. But Anthony took his time, and you knew he was being good because he let you cum in the kitchen even after you provoked him. When his point finger entered you, your eyes couldn’t focus and you knew you were closer, yet instead of giving you a release, your boyfriend took his kisses to your thighs grinning at you one more time. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he speaks under his breath, eyes trained on your pussy. Yet you don’t feel ashamed, because it’s Anthony, and he knows you like the back of his hands, he knows what to do to make you comfortable and he knows how to make you feel good. He would praise and love your body rightly, so you let him. You spread your legs wider and gave him a lopsided smile. 

“Please,” you plead again that night; however, he follows your request this time. 

Anthony dives in again, licking and spitting, flickering his tongue and using his fingers. Giving you what he got and what he knows you like. Your body is fast to answer, your waist trying to go higher to find his mouth, your toes curling, your head shooting back and your eyes rolling. 

He got you there. Fast.

And he made sure to ride you out of you high, this tongue not the least careful with your sensitive bud, while cleaning you up he kept licking it lightly. Full lips brushing it with dedication. 

“Now I want you on all fours,” there’s a dirty smile on his glistering lips and you hold back another moan with the image of Anthony sitting between your legs, face glowing with your cum, “allos y,” (c’mon). You turn your body, holding your hands before supporting your head on the pillows, ass up for him.

There’s the noise of a slap and the sting on your butt cheeks, right before a soft kiss is placed on top of the surely red mark. His hands roam around your body and you shiver when he grabs your hair. “Crisse, tu as l'air si chaud,” (holy shit, you look so hot) Anthony slaps you booty again and finally slips his finger at your entrance feeling your wetness pool around. You’re already ready for him again and he seems pleased with the realization. So pleased it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside of you hitting just the right spot. Your body shots upward and he holds you by your waist keeping your butt bent. 

“Anthony,” you moan loudly when he starts moving ruthlessly inside of you. There’s something hot about how his body is being aggressive and you are taking it all, how his hips are almost knocking your body down, “right - fucking - there,” you whine and he keeps going, this time grabbing your hair and making your body lean towards him. 

“Whose name are you screaming tonight, bébé?” he mumbles bending his own body on top of yours without completely letting go of the position. 

“Yours,” your answer between groans. 

“Let me hear you” 

And you do.

You say his name out loud and clear, and you’re almost sure the neighbors are going to hear it. Yet you do it again and again while the sound of your voice is mixed with the noise of his skin hitting your skin and his feral grunts. He’s big and hard inside you and every time he goes out to get inside again you can feel your pussy stretching out to accommodate him. 

“Beau,” you moan and he chuckles leaning his body down to kiss your back. You see from the corner of your eyes when he finds the black marker on the top of your drawer, you can almost see his head working on ideas, and then he’s grabbing the sharpie you were using to write on your sticky notes earlier today. 

His body is straight up again and his movements are now slower, as he unclasps the marker and you feel its cold material hit your skin. There’s a long up and then down movement, you’re almost sure it’s an M, and then there’s a harsh line of an I, you can hear his grunts louder and he stops himself for a second before shooting his body towards yours again. The sharpie finds your skin again, this time to draw an N, you knew he was doing it big, not only for his eyes, but for you to feel and to know exactly what it was as he wrote the last letter, an E. 

You roll your eyes when he closes and throws the sharpie somewhere in the room before leaving another one of his blows on your butt cheeks. Anthony swings his arm around your torso bringing you up to him, your back hitting his solid chest, “you’re mine,” and that’s what it takes for you to come undone on his still hard cock. Your whole body trembles and your vision goes blurry again, there are tears in your eyes, and this time your moans turn into screams of satisfaction. 

He keeps fucking you through your high and you curse dropping your head back on his shoulder. His hand sneaks in front of your body to touch your sensitive clit, and you hold it sinking your nails on his skin. “Oh fuck,” he grunts drawing his finger deeper. You’re not sure if your body can’t take so much pleasure.

“Let me ride you,” it’s a prayer, a plea, a cry, and you can feel his lips on your neck before your bodies are turned and you’re on top taking him deeper, touching new spots. 

“That’s it, bébé,” he praises you and you roll your hips using your last energies. His hands find their way to your thighs and his short nails dig on your skin bringing you impossibly closer. There’s a deep grunt from him and a small whine from you. It’s hard for your eyes to focus, and you use your body to pin his down and your tied hands find his neck before squeezing it. His hips shot up under you and you scream, tightening your grip on him and squeezing his dick inside of you. 

You can feel another knot on the pitch of your belly, but this time it feels different to recognize this new sensation. That’s when you notice the wetness under you dripping onto his cock to his belly button and in the bed. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “Oh shit, you’re squirting,” his big hands go to your back and he keeps shooting his hips up to meet your pussy, “that’s it, bébé, give it to me once more,” and you’re squeezing him one last time before giving both of you a mind-blowing orgasm. Your body tumbles on top of his and this time things go pitch black instead of blurry. You can still feel his hot body under you and his rapid heartbeat, but your body is fluttering and there’s nothing in front of you. There’s only his body. There’s only your boyfriend existing under you with his cock still deep inside of you. 

It’s seconds before his caresses on your back become some kind of poking, “y/n?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, your voice raspy. He chuckles.

“Fuck, you passed out,” he sounds proud and you giggle. 

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you confess without finding the strength to move your hands and caress him back, but Anthony keeps the tip of his fingers moving softly around your body, “I think I should talk more about Sidney Crosby, huh?” you joke and his hips shot upward making you moan Anthony’s name. Although he just came, he’s still hard and deep inside your soaked pussy.

“What were you saying?” he questions with a smug grin. “I think you were saying something about a certain player, Sidney Crosby maybe?” 

You arch your eyebrows, “who’s Sidney Crosby? I only know Anthony Beauvillier,” and he laughs at your answer before kissing your lips softly. You know there’s gonna be a time for water and a fruit snack later and then he’s going again, because he’s never done until you’re completely wrecked, the only name able to escape your lips being his. 

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