#not that anywhere else is better. including locally

[absentlyabbie]

i'll tell you what converted me to being all-in on keeping cats indoors only:

living for a year and a half in a rural area with a sudden feral cat colony explosion on the property.

i moved in with my folks for a bit and at that time, one (1) stray cat mama had taken up residence on the property, but was too feral to let my mother anywhere near her. but especially after she brought three kittens around, mom fed her and the kittens in hopes they'd grow trusting enough she could catch for spay and neuter at the minimum. momcat stayed mean and hella wary, but the kittens would hang around a little nearer and play with my mom via long stick, but still wouldn't come close enough to touch or catch.

unfortunately, two of the three kittens were girls and started having kittens of their own before further progress was made, shortly after i moved in. and that was pretty much instant doom.

there were so many kittens. SO MANY. multiple litters. every time we turned around, more kittens.

we fed them. we hunted for and located the kittens every time anywhere on the property and would move them to a repurposed doghouse anytime a mama cat had them somewhere else, so that they could grow up human-socialized and we could spay/neuter them when they were old enough. (also it was a handy tactic to push the issue of the mamas getting more used to/trusting of us themselves. only really worked with one of them, though.)

and we watched them die.

we watched litter after litter of kittens never make it to the age they could be spayed or neutered. the moms stayed, for the longest time, too skittish to more than briefly touch, much less catch and crate for a vet visit.

it sounds like a silly joke to say i have kitten-related ptsd, but i absolutely do.

too many goddamn times i'd walk out of the garage and find the carport and gravel drive strewn with tiny bodies. others simply went missing, never to be found.

one in particular, i wish i hadn't found, and the visual literally haunts me still, almost a decade later.

i saw so many kittens die of snake bite, spider bite, wild dogs, birds of prey, hit by cars, respiratory illness, covered in fleas and eyes crusted with infection.

and we loved them all. scrimped for antibiotics if the vet could be convinced to give it to us despite our being unable to bring them in. bought flea collars and ointments. we cared for them and fed them and petted them and played with them, brushed their fur and cleaned up their little faces, put ice in their water in hot summer, rigged a heating lamp in their house in the winter.

and they died. horribly. that property is pocked with unmarked graves of kittens and cats.

all the best intentions, not enough resources, and it didn't matter anyways because the population went from three to almost twenty (at times, over thirty) in the blink of an eye.

they died and died and died. our hearts broke over and over again. the stress and anxiety wore us down like sandpaper. i think, by the end of it all, we managed to find less than 10 of them all homes, including batman the disabled kitten i found a home across the country through tumblr.

it was carnage and tragedy, frankly. and we were helpless.

it only ended because they started dying faster than they could be born, and because we finally caught the two remaining mom cats in traps and got them spayed.

the points about outdoor cats being invasive predators devastating to local wildlife populations is true and valid and important.

but i know cat people, and cat people who don't know better than to let cats outdoors. what matters to you is the cat itself, generally. the cat being happy and taken care of.

keeping cats outdoors, letting them outdoors, is not taking care of the cats. it's not protecting them. it's not giving them any happiness or invigoration that couldn't be provided to them as indoor-only pets with just a little research and effort.

they die. they get ill. they get hurt. they're at risk of predators, and cars, and disease, and carelessly cruel children and deliberately cruel adults. they're at risk of disappearing on you because someone else saw a cat outdoors and intervened to give it a better, safer life not in conflict with the local environment.

and if that offends and angers you that someone would just take a cat they saw roaming outdoors, even collared, and that it sounds like i'm endorsing that, i am, but not if you intervene and be that person yourself for your own cat.

if what matters to you is doing right by your cat because it's family and a living creature whose happiness and health and safety is important to you,

keep them indoors. not part time. always. exclusively.

edit: since apparently i need to clarify this, i'm saying cats should live inside, that they should not live outdoors, even part time. visiting the outdoors supervised on a leash or in an enclosed catio is not the same as even part-time living outside, and i am certainly not advocating against it.

[dduane]

In the TIL (Thematically Peripatetically) dep't

In the classic British war movie Ice Cold in Alex, one character who blames himself for a drinking problem that may have cost someone else their life declares he's not going to take another drink until he and the people fleeing across the African desert with him can sit down and have "an ice cold lager in Alex[andria]." This promise he keeps.

The interesting part lies in how the promise plays out on film.

A background issue (from the production standpoint) of what makes this scene so interesting is that it's always hard to get any scene right in just one take. There were apparently a fair number of takes on this shot.

The producers apparently tried hard to substitute something non-alcoholic for the beer, but this proved impossible, as there was no way to fake the head. So they used real beer.

John Mills, professional that he was, drank them one after another in multiple takes. As a result, co-star Sylvia Syms describes him as having been "a little heady" when they were done with that scene.

Another less problematic problem (as such things go...) was that the novel by Christopher Landon on which the film was based has the actors drinking a US beer called Rheingold... which the producers ruled out. They they felt there was no way the characters would willingly be drinking a German (or German-sounding) beer after being pursued across North Africa by the Afrika Korps. So Carlsberg was substituted.

...And it's at this point that things start to veer. @petermorwood was telling me about this, some of which I knew... but not about the Rheingold.

"Really?" I said. "You're kidding me!"

"Why?" he said.

At which point I did what any New Yorker of a certain age might very likely do under such circumstances: I burst into song. (And frankly, because you don't need to hear me doing that, here are the Golden Girls doing it.)

Rheingold was the best-selling beer in the New York metropolitan area, and apparently in New York state as well, at least partly due to numerous aggressive advertising campaigns on radio and then on TV. That jingle was known, in many permutations—including one in 6/8 time that appears in this stop-motion-animated commercial—by lots and lots of people.

Including me. So I sang it (at least some of it: I couldn't remember the final couple of stanzas) and Peter and I looked at each other in mild bemusement. "You think your mind's full of useless garbage," I said, "try mine sometime!" And we laughed and went back to whatever we'd been doing.

Out of curiosity, I then went over to YouTube to see (as I sometimes do) whether I was anywhere near the original key of the best-known version of the jingle while singing. Turns out I was pretty close. But along the line, I stumbled across the blog of a retired librarian who clued me in on something startling:

That jingle's music was ripped off, in whole cloth, from a French composer... whose authorship is apparently routinely obscured by the name of the music's (possibly better-known?) arranger.

Here it is, and apparently misattributed as above, in full classical glory: the Estudiantina Waltz. (Warning: the main chorus is a bit of an earworm, and you may not be able to get rid of it easily. I know I won't be, for the day anyway...)

...So that's the local installment of Today I Learned. May yours (if you have one) be way more useful and interesting. :)

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you know of any solo RPGs that allow you to simulate a group/faction/place and many different NPCs? I guess I'm looking for something like a Sims or Dwarf Fortress but in the form of a TTRPG. Let me create a town and its inhabitants and roll or draw cards to determine what happens to them, or something like that. Thanks!

THEME: Solo "Sims" Games

Hello friend, these are some games coming from a few different angles but all have the common theme of interacting with a community or a group. I couldn't find a lot that allows you to play a number of characters at once, but there are a number of games that still ask you to manage a lot of people as one person! I hope you find them useful!

The Spiritpath Hotel, by 89 Lightwatch Avenue.

You are the owner of a fine establishment called The Spiritpath Hotel. Guests have come from all over to stay. The hotel mysteriously called them here, sensing that each of them are missing something important in their lives. They don't know what it is yet, so it's up to you to figure it out.

No one believes magic exists. Your guests think they are here to enjoy a vacation, but you know better. They came because your hotel promised them happiness they can't get anywhere else. You have a special power that lets you grant one thing to each person you meet and you use it to help your guests.

Discover who your guests are, figure out something important that they need, and provide it to them in a way only you can.

You’re not necessarily embodying all of the characters in this game, but you are continuously meeting and helping new NPCs as you play. This game uses a tarot deck or a random number generator to provide you with prompts, and you’ll learn more about your guests the longer they stay. I appreciate that the designer has included a reference sheet and worksheets to help you play - and the fact that you need them points to a management system that might feel similar to the Sims.

Dino Park, by Armanda.

So, you want to be part of DINO PARK. You’ve been chosen to work with us for a season! You must be thrilled! We’re the first park that through science brought Dinosaurs back to life. And you have a chance to work with us. 

We’re counting on your qualities as a human being and as a professional to make this park your home for these eight weeks. We will train you to be an outstanding member of our team. These weeks with us are going to be a life-changing experience. 

Dino Park gives you gear to help you take care of the dinosaurs in the form of a coin and a number of polyhedral dice, so I’m assuming that most resolution in this game revolves around using your gear to help you do certain things. You’ll also have personal skills and weaknesses that look like they’ll come into play depending on how you decide to solve problems. Your character will receive calls for help throughout the park, so it looks like you’ll be interact with dinosaurs and humans alike, and the game also advertises a catastrophe track - so if things truly go south, you’ll have to hightail it out of there in the style of Jurassic Park!

This game is probably good for folks who love nature games, dinosaurs, or fighting against a slowly building disaster.

Save The Community Radio!, by Wizard of Ox.

You and your group of friends used to run a radio station, giving up your weekends and nights to make sure your local community got a fresh dose of soundwaves. The problem is that, as time passed, most of your friends stopped doing so, except for you, who are still passionately trying to keep it up and running (and failing, mostly). 

Now the local government is threatening to cut funding and shut down your station unless you can prove that you can handle it, but to do so, you have to get your friends back together. Navigate the fallout of your previous relationships with each character and convince them to help you save the radio, or live to see it be shut down.

Save the Community Radio! is a solo journaling RPG focused on building relationships with multiple characters whom you have grown apart from in order to save something you collectively spent your youth trying to build. It heavily relies on these connections and how you interpret them, with prompts and actions chosen by dices and decks, but enough leeway for you to write your characters however you want.

This game uses a deck of playing cards and some 6-side dice to help you build the world where your community radio is about to fail. You work for the radio, and you’re trying to get your friends to care about it again. However, not all of your friends feel positive about you anymore, so you might have to mend those relationships first.

The deck of cards provides prompts for different problems that show up as you play, such as broken equipment or lack of guests for broadcast. You’ll likely need different kinds of people to call on to fix these problems - and hopefully you can fix your relationships with your friends before you lose all resources entirely! If you want a game about building connections, this is your game.

Note: This game comes as a RAR file, so you’ll need to make sure you have an application on your computer that can turn it into a PDF.

Crow Island: funeral//PROCESSION, by Tenbear.

funeral // PROCESSION is a solo TTRPG introducing you to the universe of Crow Island, a sci-fi fantasy world centering Indigenous people and People of Colour. Following the destruction of your village by a Corrupt Spirit you and Members of the Moon Clan will transport the body of your Chief through the wilderness of the Porcupine Nation to the City of Seven Nations for proper burial.

This is a survival game, where you play as a clan but it doesn’t seem necessary to name each clan’s members. You will have to survive against loss of equipment, predators, and depleting supplies. The game uses a deck of playing cards as sort of a prompt generator, providing you with either obstacles or resources as you make your way to the City of Seven Nations.

The reviews of this game compare it to a Choose Your Own Adventure kind of game, so if that sounds interesting, you might want to check this game out.

Nature/Town/Farm/Villagers, by Cardboard Hyperfix.

You are a farmer who just moved into town. You had family that lived here a while ago, but not anymore. The town has seen better days, and you are here to help.

This is meant to be both a farming simulator and a community simulator. Inspired by Harvest Moon, you are a farmer who just moved to town, and are responsible for both making your farm flourish and helping your neighbours solve their problems.

The game follows a calendar of four months, one month for each season. The majority of your play revolves around picking focuses and figuring out both what the problems of each focus is, and then work to wards solving them. Each day you roll 2d6 and use their results to help you solve problems.

If you want a game that you can choose to play over an extended period of time, or if you really enjoy Harvest Moon, you might want to check out this game.

Apawthecaria: A Poultice Pounder Adventure, by BlackwellWriter.

Apawthecaria is a blend of Apothecaria and Scurry! Go on a potion-making, road-tripping, friend-making adventure.

Apothecaria is a solo potion-making game about taking care of unfortunate villagers. Scurry is a game about tiny creatures adventuring through Scotland’s underbrush. Apawthecaria combines the two that brings your little poultice-maker through the same world as Scurry, helping little creatures with their injuries and ailments.

This game is absolutely adorable, and I like the fact that you can recruit a Familiar and a number of Companion bugs on your journeys. I’m assuming that along with meeting a number of patients on your travels, you’ll be using many of the potion-making and foraging rules of Apothecaria. There’s a lot of management involved - you’ll be tracking your reputation, upgrading equipment, and bartering for ingredients (aka reagents) as you travel.

If you like a game with enchanting art and plenty setting already established for you to explore, this might be a game for you.

Scavengers, by Gasini.

Scavengers is a solo hexcrawling adventure game set in a post-apocalyptic fantasy world. You play as a crew of foolhardy goblins struggling to pilot an ancient vehicle known as The Gas Horse. Your crew's goal is to scour the wastes for salvage to expand the goblin homestead. 

Your goblins have an eclectic set of skills that will change how each run goes. Be wary, for there is a hunter out in the wastes seeking to end your adventure!

I think this game might meet your requirements because you are playing a crew of goblins, rather than a single character, and because you have something to manage - namely, the Gas Horse. You’re also responsible for a Homestead, where there might even be more goblins waiting for you. The game comes with a Hexflower map for you to explore, and it all looks to fit on a single brochure, so I think this is better for a limited play session rather than extended play.

Nomads of the Isles, by Nik Mirza.

The fate of your clan rests on your shoulders. Will you be able to lead them to prosperity or will your journey end in defeat?

Your clan are on a quest to establish settlements in a new and unknown land. You must lead your people through various terrains such as mountains, deserts, and forests while managing facing unforeseen danger. Your goal is to establish a settlement or more by the end of your reign.

This is a brochure game guided by Firelights, a solo RPG that is great for metroidvania types of games. Roll on a d66 table to determine what kinds of regions you’ll travel through, and draw cards from the Story Deck to determine the difficulty of each action.

While the game is meant to track a journey from one land to another, the actual details of the story are up to you. The cards from the deck provide you with a value that you’ll have to beat, but the detail of each problem is pretty vague: you’ll recieve prompts such as “Reunion”, “Ceremony”, or “Betrayal”. You’ll have to decide what those words mean, and how much detail you want to include. If you want a game that makes it fairly easy to track progress towards a definable goal, this is your game.

DELVE, by BlackwellWriter.

DELVE: A Solo Map Drawing Game is a map drawing game that puts you in control of a dwarven hold as you discover the horrors that lurk below. This 44 page zine has everything you need to generate natural formations, forgotten ruins, enemies, wyrd magics, and ancient monstrosities. It has a simple turn-based combat system, rules for building your hold and optional challenges for a harder experience.

If you like Dwarf Fortress, this is the game for you! Recruit military units, devise traps and track combat. Use cards from a deck to track resources and explore the map, and a d4 or a coin to help you resolve certain problems. This is as much a resource management game as it is a dungeon delving game, with plenty of tables for Magic, Adventurers, Inventions and more. If you like filling out a map and tracking a lot of things at once, this might be the game for you.

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

it's time now. it's time to imagine the brightest future you can, and talk about it.

a future where people only work 8 hours a week and everyone's basic needs are met. a future where we are more connected to nature and eat seasonal, local produce. a future where you look out for your neighbours and they look out for you. a future where you actually know who your neighbours are. a future where everyone is just a lot more relaxed and able to do whatever they want to do - this 8 hour working week has given people their lives back and now they're able to make community events, work in community gardens, sing and dance and spend time with their kids, play whatever sport they want, travel, read, create art and music.

People are interacting with each other in good faith again because money as an ulterior motive has all but disappeared. Cus you see a few decades ago they made profits illegal. All money has to be put back into the company and CEOs can take home a salary only, no bonuses and it can't be more than 3x what the lowest paid employee makes. You can go to jail if your company is found to make profits, advertise on a large scale or pay its high ranking members more than what's allowed.

Jail still exists but mostly people go in for financial crimes (greed still exists); drugs are decriminalised and available to use safely. people are not as desperate now so there's been a massive reduction of violent and petty crime and most of the people who still do this are teenagers who get away with a slap on the wrist. police are not armed anymore and are heavily penalised if they abuse their power or hurt a civilian, and their role is more that of mediator, signposter (to community services, social services, and free and accessible healthcare including for mental health) and security. together with the former military they make up an "emergency task force" which are called upon in times of need and crisis, for floods, fires, other such disasters.

the stock market completely collapsed after profits were made illegal and people had to find other ways to figure out what a company was worth: such as how they treat their staff or how accessible their processes are. as a result of this, as well as more widespread disability thanks to Covid and an ageing population, accessibility is fucking incredible now. most places are accessible to the vast majority of disabled people even without them having to ask for a single thing. If they have to ask, accommodations are made quickly and without fuss and this is completely normal now. disabled people are more visible than ever in public life and this has led to a generally kinder, more tolerant public life.

Everything is slower now. Social media as we know it died decades ago and Internet 4.0 is efficient, will find you accurate answers and the websites you're looking for very easily and fast. there's monopoly laws restricting how large companies operate online. online ads are all but illegal - there's "phone book" esque pages where you can promote your business or service and that's allowed but not anywhere else. Lots of people are still annoying and some of them are still cruel but overall living together as humans has gotten so much more chill. We've tackled climate change and reversed much of it, now it's a global day of mourning whenever a species is found to be extinct through human intervention. these days used to happen much more frequently but it's very rare these days. Most everyone gets the day off and is encouraged to read about the lost species or hold themed funerals. Globally everything has gotten better - there's much more global equality now after a bunch of western/formerly colonising countries almost self destructed and then instead decided to own up for colonialism, pay reparations to a lot of countries in Africa Asia and Latin America, as well as indigenous nations of North America, Oceania, even in Europe. The USA doesn't exist anymore instead its a whole host of separate nations all managed by the native people whose land it is. The UK doesn't exist anymore. England is still sad about it but Wales, Scotland, Ireland and Cornwall are called Cymru, Alba, Eire and Kernow again and they've formed a Celtic Union for better collective bargaining power in the EU (which still exists, somehow. Its better now. England may still be out of the EU I'm not sure). Migration is common and foreigners are welcomed into any country with open arms.

I may try to write something about this. I have a vision for a future and it's so lovely. Here, on earth, with the starting point being now. We have a lot to work with and only a few changes could make such a difference. Demilitarisation, UBI and maximum working hours, greedy financial practices made illegal. Conservation and education on local plants and nature and food. Community building on every level. Giving people their lives back.

This is all extremely possible. If it were up to me, very little in society would be left unchanged but it would all be people friendly changes. changes that aim to support the poorest and most marginalised, changes that aim to punish greed and exploitation. It's a work in progress of course. But I have a vision for a better world and dammit if I'm not going to share it with you.

[much-ado-about-whumping]

Help for when you’re having a rough time

(If you're looking for my old pinned post with my whump masterlists, you can find it here.)

In light of some deeply sad news in the whump community today, I’m thinking about how many of us here struggle with mental health, sometimes including physical or mental self-harm and suicidality. Since I know lots of folks might be having a hard time right now, I wanted to share some resources that have helped me in rough moments. Please feel free to add on to this post (or make your own, if you want!) with the resources that have worked for you. 

First, a note:

Trauma, shame, and suicidality all tend to isolate - they make us feel like we’re all alone in the world, like no one else would understand us, and like the only solutions we have available to us are ones we can think of all by ourselves. In my experience, the antidote to that is connection. If you’re feeling scared or alone, you can hop into my asks or DMs if you want. I’m sure there are other folks in this community who would offer that, too. Many of us have grappled with mental health struggles, including suicidal ideation, and sometimes we can offer each other the care that can be hard to offer ourselves. Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need support.

A quick note about location: I live in the US, but about half the resources in this post are written guides you can access from anywhere. The hotlines and warmlines linked below are US-based. One or two are accessible in Canada or have an online chat or moderated forum that could be accessed anywhere. If you have good local resources from another place, please reblog and add them! (Thank you, @straight-to-the-pain, for flagging this in the notes!)

That said, here’s my absolute first recommendation if you’re feeling generally awful and don’t know what to do:

1. You Feel Like Shit (also available at its original site here)

If you’ve read a lot of ~self care tips~ in your life (and if you’re a bit of a salty bitch like me), you might be sick of being told to eat something and take a nap. (I don’t think we can hydrate our way out of long-term trauma and late-stage capitalistic hell, but thanks.) That said, I’ve found this site REALLY helpful. Personally, I have ADHD and CPTSD, a combination that makes it ROUGH for me to know how to take care of myself sometimes. This site speaks to you calmly, like a non-judgemental friend, and walks you through steps that you might struggle with if you have a hard time with executive function in general, or if you’re ill, grieving, overwhelmed, or otherwise just off your game. I pretty much always walk away feeling at least a little better, even if I don’t complete every step.

There are more suggestions and resources below the cut. Wishing everyone in this community love and care. <3

2. The 15-Minute Rule (info available in many places; after a quick google, I really like this site as a place to start)

One key principle to understanding the resources I’ve put together here is the 15-minute rule. If you’re feeling an urge towards physical or mental self-harm or suicide, studies show that the urge is unlikely to last more than about 15 minutes at its peak intensity. (Sorry I don’t have data on this off the bat - anecdotally, I can tell you that this rule also tracks with my own personal experience.) This means that, if you’re presently feeling overwhelmed by grief or pain that’s turning inwards on you, if you can stay afloat through the next few minutes, the tide of it is likely to ebb. The site I linked above has information about this concept and some great harm-reduction ideas, too. (Another resource on this that I liked in my quick search is here.)

3. Read This First (a compassionate distraction from feelings of self-harm)

I’m gonna be honest; this resource is aimed at folks having urges towards physical self-harm, but it looks like something I would find helpful with urges towards emotional self-harm, too. (It also looks like it could be handy for body-focused repetitive behaviors - BFRBs - like dermatillomania/skin-picking or trichotillomania/hair-pulling).

4. Resources from Pete Walker, psychotherapist and author of Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving

Obviously not everyone reading this will have complex PTSD (also called C-PTSD), but if you’re a person who, in general, tends to beat yourself up a lot, I’d highly recommend checking Pete Walker’s work out. If some of it doesn’t apply to you, that’s okay - take what you need, and leave the rest. This site (and the book it references most heavily) assumes you may have had parents who were emotionally or physically abusive or neglectful. If that doesn’t ring true for you, but other parts of the resources seem helpful, use them anyway! A handy place to start maybe this page on Shrinking the Inner Critic in Complex PTSD (that is, reducing the volume of the voice that screeches unpleasantness at you when you feel ashamed or scared).

As a note: this website looks VERY mid-2000s (which I kind of love). Most of the resources you want will be in the right-hand column full of links. Some of those links will open new pages, and some will automatically try to download a PDF of the article you want to read. 

5. Warmlines:

This is something I just learned today - if you’re feeling really lonely and sad, but you’re not in immediate crisis, there are warmlines you can contact! These seem to be numbers where you can call (or sometimes text) to talk with a counselor or trained peer when you need support and connection. I can’t vouch for any of these numbers personally, but as someone who has definitely thought, “It’s not bad enough to REALLY need help,” I think this is a fabulous idea. Here’s a list of warmlines you can check out in the US.

6. Specialized hotlines: 

There are lots of good crisis hotlines out there, but some may be better for your needs than others. For one thing, if you’re feeling seriously suicidal, it’s good to know the policies of the hotline you’re calling. In my opinion, everyone deserves bodily autonomy and the right to refuse care; for that reason, I think it’s important to know the policy of the hotline you’re calling as to whether or not they’ll call emergency services without your consent. Everyone has to make their own judgment call on this one, and I’m a little too (lightly!) triggered to go deep into my analysis on this right now, but I wanted to flag that it’s something to be aware of - if you’re going to call a hotline, you can try to look up their policy on calling emergency services before you contact them. You could probably even ask them in the beginning of the call. (A script: “Before we start, can you tell me what your policy is about contacting emergency services on behalf of callers?” If this is true, you can add: “I’m having some feelings of [suicidality/self-harm], but I’m safe and am not in danger of hurting myself or others.”)

With that in mind, here are some hotlines that seem promising to me, in no particular order:

A. For queer and trans folks in general:

Trans LifeLine

Available in the US (1-877-565-8860) and Canada (1-877-330-6366)

Available in English and Spanish

Will NOT call emergency services without your consent (you can read more about this policy on their website, including here)

Peer to peer support for transgender and questioning folks; also, microgrants (small amounts of money) for trans-related needs!

Does not offer text/chat-based support

I’ve never used Trans LifeLine myself, but I’ve heard excellent things about it from peers who have.

The Trevor Project:

Support from trained counselors for queer, trans, and questioning folks

Definitely available in the US; I’m not sure where else.

Offers support via phone (1-866-488-7386), text message (678-678), and online chat (link here - scroll down to Start Chat)

Also offers an online peer support space, TrevorSpace, for folks ages 13-24

Their site says, “In very specific instances of abuse or a clear concern of an in-progress or imminent suicide, Trevor counselors may need to contact a child welfare agency or emergency service.” When you click Learn More, it takes you to their Terms of Service (informative, but in legalese that might be hard to parse if you’re in crisis).

Again, not a service I’ve used myself, but I’ve heard good things!

B. For BIPOC folks (Black folks, Indigenous folks, and people of color more broadly), especially those who also hold LQBTQI identities:

Call Blackline:

Available via phone or text (both at 1-800-604-5841)

Available for people in crisis. Call Blackline can also help connect you with local community organizers and officials if you need to report a negative, inappropriate, or physical interaction with police, other law enforcement, or vigilantes.

From their website:

Call BlackLine® provides a space for peer support, counseling, reporting of mistreatment, witnessing and affirming the lived experiences for folxs who are most impacted by systematic oppression with an LGBTQ+ Black Femme Lens.Call BlackLine® prioritizes BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color). By us for us.

Here’s what I found regarding their policy on emergency services:

You do not have to provide any personal information to use the service. All calls remain private and will never be shared with law enforcement or state agencies of any kind.

Of course, a BIPOC person can contact any hotline for support, but for people dealing with racism, anti-Blackness, and other specific bigotries, I can very much see the importance of talking to someone who shares or understands that experience.

C. For folks processing bad psychedelic trips:

Fireside Project:

This one is something I didn’t even know existed! They do call- or text-based support (1-623-473-7433, or 1-62-FIRESIDE) for people processing psychedelic drug experiences, available 11am to 11pm Pacific time. I don’t have a ton more info, but their site seems really interesting and like they’re serving a unique need.

7. A soothing distraction:

One of the glories of the internet is the fact that it enables us to conjure up images of kittens at a moment’s notice. In that vein, I want to offer up a VERY cute distraction: Peptoc is a hotline (1-707-873-7862, or 1-707-8PEPTOC) where you can hear encouraging messages in English or Spanish from kindergarteners. How sweet is that? (Thanks to the wonderful @newbornwhumperfly for this suggestion!)

--------

Beloved whump community, I want to know about things that help you when you’re struggling. Please feel free to share them if you want.

And, Moya - we’ll miss you so, so much, even those of us (like me) who didn’t know you well. May your memory be an absolute blessing. <3

(I was going to put this in the tags, but oops, it’s going up here - I really hope this post will be helpful to someone, but it was also helpful to me to build. I feel better in a crisis when I can find a way to help - it’s how I soothe myself when I’m sad or scared. I really hope this doesn’t seem preachy or self-aggrandizing - it’s really just me processing-processing-processing. <3)

One more note: if this post makes you think you might want to follow my blog, you're totally welcome, but you should check out my note here first. This is not a DNI list; it's just a heads-up about my content, which could be inappropriate or triggering for some people.

[breeofbree]

Hold my drink

König x f!reader (x slight Alejandro)

⚠️18+ MINORS DNI⚠️

Summary: a night of drinking turns a chivalrous König in to a jealous man before the club is infiltrated. (A/N: i strongly agree König is socially anxious. I also believe this man is a dirty, DIRTY top who gets jealous easily. I wanted to make this a series but feel it’s too short to even bother stretching out.) (also open to ideas and requests)

Warnings: tobacco use, swearing, violence, mentions of anxiety, ANGST, pure unadulterated sex that stems from anger, orgasm denial.

“König! Hold my drink, I’ll be right back!” Y/N shouts over the foreign music throbbing at her ears, hoping to use the excuse of slipping outside for a smoke to clear her head. König gives a thumbs up from the secluded corner of their table, neither of them wanting to be here but trying their best at being good sports. The three at the table, better known as the grumpy brigade, included a brooding Ghost who refused to take off his signature mask. While passing the glimmering dance floor, Y/N is both mesmerized and disgusted as the others dance fluidly to the beat, flashing smiles and heaving out deep laughs of pure enjoyment while she suffers from anxiety in silence... and feeling like a horrible teammate for leaving König in the same situation.

“How adorable. I hate it.” Y/N mumbles to herself, turning away while smirking and lighting a cigarette as soon as her hand hits the door. The wind creeps against her bare arms, the only thing more uncomfortable than an issued uniform is a strapless dress, tight to the skin and leaving no secrets. 

“You must come from the heavens if you’re freezing under the desert heat, querida.” Alejandro steps out, lighting a fragrant cigar, letting it hang loosely from his lips as he takes off his dashing suit jacket. Y/N wondered if tonight was an excuse to see everyone dressed to the nines, a day off turning in to everyone finding flashy garments in the local Mercado, and Y/N begrudgingly being pulled around by Farah.

“If you call Texas heaven, then sure Vargas. And I appreciate the gesture but im not all that cold.” Y/N grumbles, taking several seconds before giving in and snatching the jacket that was still outstretched in Alejandro’s hand roughly. Once draped over her shoulders, Alejandro is quick to button the top notch that fell just below her breasts. He stops to look at her anxious face, quickly gripping her shoulder and sighing,” Y/N, this is a good opportunity for the units to mingle… get to know each other. I only do these things to extend a hand of friendship. Do not be misguided by my actions.”

“The way you haven’t stopped looking at me has me thinking otherwise, vaquero.” Y/N smirks,  letting the cigarette smoke escape her lips and plume to the side, slipping a hand on his chest and stretching upwards to whisper in his ear,” and I might let that hand of friendship wander if it gets me out of here.”

The smell of tequila wafts heavily in the air, signaling her less than sober words were a guise of being anywhere but here, even if it meant staying in someone else’s bed for the night. Y/N knew the vaqueros had actual beds to sleep on instead of cots, though it wasn’t who she would’ve preferred. 

Alejandro sinks his teeth lower in to his cigar, eyebrows crinkling at the woman in front of him,” Y/N. Tequila has a way of bringing our desires to the surface, but I must admit, I’m flattered by the offer.”

Alejandro suavely removes the cigar from his mouth, holding it gently as he stoops to leave a tobacco fragrant kiss on the back of her hand, and sliding the suit jacket up just enough to kiss her wrist as well. He pauses, eyes slowly creeping to Y/N’s in question,” but I must ask, is this truly what you desire, or do you feel I’m your only escape?”

Y/N puffs on the end of her cigarette before flicking it away, heat rising to her cheeks as she grips both hands at the deep blue collars of his shirt, dragging him back up for a heated kiss. Her mind raced, it was so wrong, but the promise of getting out of here was more important than her dignity at this very moment.

Her back hits against the surprisingly warm brick wall as Alejandro hoists her legs to wrap around his torso, kisses becoming more rapid with the expert use of tongue from Alejandro. Y/N gasps for air, turning to catch a glimpse of König’s hulking figure, and rage glazed eyes staring directly in to her perverse soul as he steps out the door. Even with his lower face covered with a black surgical mask in place of his usual sniper veil, she could see the disgust creep at his expression as her drink crushes in his hand before being tossed against the wall. König turns, stepping back through the doorway and slamming the door shut.

“König!” Y/N shouts, pushing off of Alejandro to rush after her desired team member.

“König, wait!” Y/N shouts out again, tearing through the doorway and crowd, trying to close the distance and being quickly thwarted by the sea of bodies that bumped and grinded against each other. König stalked to their table, grabbing his own suit jacket and aggressively throwing it on before turning to his shorter companion tugging at the back of his shirt in an effort to turn him around.

“You should stay, Y/N. Seems like you were really uniting the units back there. I don’t see why you’re so worried about me.” König bites his inner cheek, rage choking his throat and stinging at his eyes. She was supposed to be his, it was a silent promise he made to himself. The one he’s carried through battlefields, shielded with his own body, he was positive she was his. 

“König, you don’t understand! Just let me explain! Why do you even care? We’re teammates!” Y/N pleads, tugging at his shirt enough to pull the tuck loose from his pants and reveal his scarred side. 

“We can talk when we’re on base and sober. We both have some explaining to do.” He seethes out, encircling his fingers around her tiring wrist and tossing her hand to the side. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Enough you two. Sit down. There’s no reason to be in a tiff on our night off.” Ghost barks, clamping a hand against the two and forcing them to sit. 

“Right then, now talk. Out with it… both of you.” Ghost growls at them, sitting across from them safely with the table used as a buffer. 

Just as Y/N begins to talk, gun fire rings out, dulling the pulsating music as screams shriek violently in the air. König and Ghost both reach to pull an inebriated Y/N to the safety underneath the table, but the situation itself has quickly sobered her… as if the tequila itself evaporated from her system as soon as the first shot sounded. König and Ghost shielded her, knowing a flak jacket couldn’t be hidden under the skin tight and shimmering dress that encased her delicate body. 

“So much for a day off.” Ghost groans, pulling a hand gun from the hem of his pants and crouching in front of them to assess the situation. König reaches for his own, as Y/N scans the area for her purse that contained hers. Her eyes landing on the disgustingly sparkling bag discarded under a table nearby, most likely knocked around from the initial shock from the shootout. Y/N attempts to crawl over the shattered glasses and rubbish on the floor, only to be pulled back by a tight hand against Alejandro’s jacket that she still wore, landing directly in König’s lap and being restrained by his free arm. 

“You’re staying right here. Anytime you run off, you end up in danger, or locking lips with someone you barely know.” König huffs out, heavy breathing rattling them both as their anxieties build.

“Are you still bent up about me kissing someone? You’re my teammate, not my father, damnit!” Y/N grits her teeth, trying to wriggle free to no avail.

“I said you’re staying here, verdammt!” König tightens his arm and hooks an ankle over her flailing legs, quickly suppressing the woman that was a weapon herself, and hoping she was humble enough not to fight back any longer. His hopes couldn’t be anymore wrong as her elbow digs in to the nearest pressure point, causing his teeth to almost crack under the restrained pressure. 

“If you’re jealous, say so, damnit!” Y/N spits, moving to another pressure point and slowly sliding from his grasp, just for König to regrip at the next opportunity.

“I’m trying to protect you!” He yells back, trying his best to keep a close eye on Ghost at the same time. Y/N digs once again, head now locked between his legs in a sloppy triangle,” I don’t need protecting for fucks sake! I need my gun!”

“We protect each other, and your only protection right now is me!” König clips out, tightening his legs around her windpipe, if knocking her unconscious was the best action to protect her, he’d apologize when she woke up swinging… and so he did. 

Y/N’s eyes snap open, anger boiling under her skin as the bottom of the table slowly comes in to focus and the sounds of crying stabs at her eardrums. Crying always meant it was over. During traumatic events, bystanders and victims are flushed with so much anxiety and adrenaline, leaving no time to cry. That’s how she knew her previous platoon was leaving Iraq, it was the pure terror releasing itself in the form of crying as her teammates embraced each other and made calls to home. 

She coaxed her aching body to roll, watching as the remaining who could walk were guided out by her teammates and the other units. Glass bit in to her knees as she used the table to hoist herself up, ankles wobbling against her raised heels that she’d prefer to rip off. 

Y/N trudged aimlessly in to the reckless crowd groggily and trying to focus, looking for any sign of König to give him a piece of her mind. She was quickly pushed around as others rushed for the door or their friends. The one thing that came with crying, was chaos. People wailing over covered bodies as others tried to coax them out, the pure silence that was only broken from the crying. It only made her get pent up even more as she finally heard König shouting directions to the victims, however duty came before rage. Y/N gracefully formed in line next to Ghost, creating a herding barrier to safely guide the remaining crowd out. Ghost bends down to her ear, speaking gruffly,” cartel. 7 dead. No motive has been found so far.”

“There’s always motive dear friend, but this is quite curious.” Alejandro sidles up to the two, looking slightly disheveled and splotched in blood. 

“Maybe they’re after you.” König butts in, looking down at Alejandro menacingly and folding his arms tightly. 

“That might’ve been the case, but if you remember I was still outside when this began. They could’ve easily taken me out without ever having to step inside.” Alejandro says back monotonously, picking up the jealousy that bites in his words as he obscures Alejandro’s view of Y/N. 

“And you let them through? Are we sure we can even trust him?” König directs his question to Ghost who sighs back,” enough. Just as they can’t tell us apart from civilians, we can’t either, König. At ease.”

König drops his shoulders in reply, rearing out the last of the civilians and walking out the door.

“Whatever you three have going on tonight can wait until this is all figured out. Until then, you can apologize or forget about it. Are we clear?” Ghost adresses the three, knowing König was still looming near the door. Alejandro nods, but the other two kept silent, finding anything but Ghost entertaining in that moment.

“I said, are we clear?” Ghost threatens.

“Yes.” The three chime together, huffing a few naughty words under their breaths while following Ghost outside and back to base.

Several hours and several interrogations later, it was an open and shut mission. The cartel members responsible already apprehended by the Los Vaqueros and disposed of or incarcerated respectfully. 

“Well then, I think that’s enough for one night.” Alejandro yawns, stretching upwards before standing and heading for the door. König steps in his direction, sealing the door with his frame and glaring between him and Y/N. 

“Not before we have a nice, civil conversation.” König grips at Alejandro’s shirt, opening his mouth and being quickly cut off by a still present, but quickly leaving Ghost,” civil, König. Hands off.”

Y/N lets fear set in as the two stare each other down with no words to speak. König jerks his balled up fist away and huffs. It was only her that was to blame, and it was only her that could knock any sense in to the man that choked her out. 

“First of all, I’m sorry. Both of you. Alejandro, you’re great. And a… phenomenal kisser. But I’ll be honest and agree that tequila persuades us to do irrational things, especially if it means an excuse to leave a club and sleep in anything that’s not a cot. I’m sorry for even thinking of using you in that way, and hope this doesn’t affect our work together.” Y/N begins sheepishly, taking a moment before even daring to look at the other man in question,” and König, you’re my partner… my battle buddy. Protecting me applies to the field, not when I don’t need protecting. But like you said, we protect each other. So the fact you had the audacity to even THINK of choking me out has me questioning every thing about you.” Y/N cuts off, slightly baffled and even hurt König did it. Her eyes finally meet his, just to watch his head turn away,” if it meant protecting you, it was an action I was willing to take.”

“And how the HELL is knocking me unconscious even close to protecting me?” Y/N raises her voice, stalking closer to the brutish figure that still refused to look her way. Her questions were only met with tense silence and ongoing refusal to look her way.

“Answer me König or so help me,” she’s quickly cut off by Alejandro clamping a hand on her shoulder,” if this no longer involves me, I’ll take my leave. I appreciate the honesty at the least. No bitter feelings as I’d do the same.” 

With Alejandro’s final words, he exits through the slight gap König leaves for him, showing at least some gratuity and promising to lick his jealous wounds in private. He had someone more threatening in that moment about to sink her teeth in to him, whether it be verbally or physically… maybe he deserved it. With the two being the only ones left in the room, the atmosphere changes, anger washes over König and finally alone, he unleashes the pain and confusion of the night.

“You were trying to put yourself in the line of fire and out of protection, for what? Of course dealing with you being unconscious was better than holding your lifeless body, Scheisse Y/N!” König bites, leaning down so their faces were eye level with each other. 

“And in that action you stopped me from reaching my gun! I could’ve helped, instead of lying helpless on the floor for fucks sake! Why did you really do it?” Y/N rises on her tiptoes, trying to gain the upper hand and seem more dominant, but with every word exchanged she only felt smaller, shrinking at the thought of losing the thing that mattered most… the man that might as well be beat down and wounded standing right in front of her.

“Y/N, enough.” König warns, pique anger present at the calmness in his voice, only to be punched in the shoulder of an equally raged Y/N whose anger is shown in completely different ways,” no! I want answers, damnit! The one man I trust to protect me, leaves me lying defenseless on the floor and for what? To get back at me for kissing someone? I’m not your property! Fuck!” Y/N rambles, breath quickening as she punches König with deadly precision due to exceptional training in hand to hand combat. He braced for every blow, wincing every few good punches, but otherwise refusing to react. After a wind knocking gut punch, he grasps her hands in mid air. He quickly maneuvers them above her head, spinning them both around to pin her against the wall,” are you finished?”

“I still got my legs.” Y/N gruffly huffs out, already winded but still managing to kick at him with the same velocity as her punches. His grip causes forgotten glass to dig in to her palms, blood trickling down to her wrist and dripping down at a quickened rate thanks to her tantrum and quickened heart rate. König pins her legs down with his own, and wipes the blood trailing down her arm with his now discarded mask before lowering his hands to her wrists. 

“I was jealous. I’ll be the bigger person and admit that. But incapacitating you had NOTHING to do with it. That was your sheer drunken stupidity that caused that!” König barks back, heaving his chest as his anger is released through yelling. 

“Drunk? You’re being ridiculous right now! Even inebriated I can handle myself!” Y/N yells directly in his face, once again finding herself trying to break free from his hold. 

“But can you handle a gun? Can you handle the death of a teammate? Stop acting like a child before I put you in your place!” König practically foams at the mouth, both of their faces purple from arguing.

“Then do it! Put me in my place and stop being a pussy!” Y/N attempts to head butt his chest, resulting in König hoisting her up by her wrists with his single hand until they were eye level, both sets of eyes beaming red with hate. 

“Put you in your place? Fine.” König places a hand around her neck, for a second, fear instills itself square in Y/N’s chest. Before she could even gasp for air or react, his lips haphazardly crash in to hers, tongue penetrating her lips to slip in to her mouth aggressively. The hand that gripped her wrists slides to her waist, comforting Y/N’s back as his groin presses her against the wall. At first Y/N thought of pushing away with her newly freed hands, but lust out ruled anger and her fingers automatically entwine through his disheveled hair while her legs wrap around his waist, hands tugging and clawing at his head with every kiss. Her own tongue massages against his, exiting only to nibble at his bottom lip and drag it down.

“Thought you were going to put me in my place.” Y/N quips between kisses and strained breath. König squeezes her throat slightly, canines showing through his wicked grin,” and I am. If you want to scream at me, you can at least scream my name, Y/N.”

The seduction rolled off his tongue, and mixed with his accent, it sent a jolt of electricity down Y/N’s spine. He was only in this crazed state in moments of danger, and knowing he had no limits in this mood, Y/N genuinely feared just how far he’d go.

Königs hand slipped between the two, and under the slip of Y/N’s dress to massage perfect circles against her clothed and throbbing clit. A gasp escapes Y/N’s mouth, only to be hushed by König,” that’s not my name, Y/N.”

His hand squeezes tighter, hips grinding against her in the same rhythm as his fingers, pushing them deeper in to the wall while his lips trail down to her neck to leave purple welts just above her breasts. 

“K-König…” Y/N trails off with a slight moan, returned with a hum of approval. König removes the hand around her throat briefly to hike her dress up, giving another squeeze as he settles it back around her throat. His lips return to hers as he moves his lower hand to her ass, keeping her balanced against his waist and moving to the table, lowering Y/N against the cool metal. Y/N pulls at his hair once again, guiding it down lower. He presses a pressured kiss against her soaked panties, tilting his head side to side to tease her throbbing cunt. 

“Tell me who you really wanted pinning you against that club wall Y/N.” König mumbles against her, accentuating every word so it vibrated deep in to her core.

“Y-you, König. I only want you.” Y/N moans out, causing one of his hands to press against her entrance as he smiled, teeth brushing against her panties,” tell me you were just using him.”

“I was!” She clips out.

“You were what?” König questions, nuzzling his face in deeper, tongue now tracing circles opposite of his finger.

“I was just using him t-to leave the club! Fuck, König!” Y/N chokes against the saliva rapidly flushing to her mouth in anticipation of release. König growls deeply with satisfaction, but quickly growing impatient with the barrier that separated them.

“Fuck indeed.” He huffs, sharply inhaling a breath of air and pushing her panties out of the way, tongue immediately massaging Y/N’s clit and fingers instantly soaked upon entering her dripping cunt. Y/N can only recoil at the overstimulation, body tensing and relaxing at every push, pull… and curl of his fingers. 

“König, I’m going to-“ Y/N is revoked of ecstasy as his hand withdraws from her, tongue slowing to a soft lap that slows further in to lazy kisses.

“I don’t think so, Y/N. You wanted to be put in your place, you can start by learning that I’m in charge in this moment. You are going to lay here and obey every word I say, and do what I ask. Are we clear?” König growls lowly, gently massaging at his hardening erection and stripping to his boxers. 

“And if I say no?” She questions lustfully, posturing up to her elbows for a better view.

“Then I guess I’ll have to fuck you until all you can say is yes, or even better, not talk at all.” König smirks, pulling his fully hardened cock out but refusing to move until Y/N becomes antsy,” kiss it.”

She raises an eyebrow, considering on refusing but ultimately follows his order. Leaning from the table, she places a kiss directly on his leaking tip, then moves lower while leaving a trail of kisses to his shaft. Upon making her way back to the tip, she attempts to wrap her lips around, only to be stopped.

“Turn around Y/N.” He unleashes another command, and Y/N obliges, leaning against the cool metal of the table and baring her ass to him.

A daft smack against her ass rings out in the room, receiving a light whimper from Y/N.

“I guess you can follow orders.” König chuckles, Dick pressed directly at her entrance but refusing to push past the barrier. Y/N attempts to push against him, receiving another smack before König harshly rams in to her and hits her wall roughly. She winces at the quick change, trying her best to adjust before he slides out once again, quickly ramming back in. This time, a clipped scream bubbles from Y/N’s throat at the pleasurable pain of taking his length. His hands find steadiness at the back of her head, pulling back roughly from the roots of her hair with every thrust. 

“K-König! Please!” Y/N gasps out in a moan, receiving a guttural growl,” K-König! please, what?”

His mocking of her causes Y/N’s eyes to roll to the back of her head as another moan racks her body. 

“Please, let me cum!” She winces, ecstasy becoming pain as it knots in her stomach.

“Do you think you’ve been put in your place?” He barks in question.

“Y-yes!” Y/N whimpers in a pathetic answer.

“Are you going to call me a pussy again, Y/N?” König replies with a tinge of anger, quickening his pace and hitting even deeper.

“No!” She sputters out, receiving another smack against her already reddening ass,” don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ll choke you out again if I have to.”

His hand snakes away from her hair, trailing down to her throat and locking tightly to emphasize his threat. The world vibrates in and out of focus, black splotches forming in Y/N’s vision as she screams, the heaviest orgasm tearing through her,” I-I’m not! I’m c-cu-“ 

Another vicious moan rips at her throat before she can even finish, the feeling of relief so strong it makes her nauseous, but König only quickens his pace and prolongs the ache in her core. 

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Are your words bigger than your actions? Bit off more than you could chew?” His words become strained, showing his own bluff as the rest of his movements become sloppy and even more erratic. 

“Seems like you’re all talk too, big guy.” Y/N pushes at him, a laugh quickly dying off as his strokes become vicious once again.  

“You ever, even look at someone again the way you did Alejandro, you’ll only be able to think of me fucking you to a senseless pulp.” König growls in finality, giving a final heave before pulling out and slamming his back against the table next to her after finishing. Between gasps for air, Y/N turns to look at the disheveled man beside her who was particularly entertained by the ceiling. His hooded eyes drag slowly to her own, toothy smirk quickly following,” if that didn’t put you in your place, maybe water boarding will do the trick.”

“König, no!” Y/N smack his chest lightly, taking the time to slide her dress back in to place and grab his hand to examine every cut and scar that molded intricately in to him. 

“Don’t pay too close attention to what defines a monster dear Y/N.” He grumbles, pulling his hand away to rest it on his still heaving chest. She only threads her fingers in to his tightly before replying,” if you’re a monster, I’m only worse. Because I’m dumb enough to believe we could ever find love in each other. You’re too good for me, König.”

“Or we’re too horrible for each other. Like gasoline and an unruly fire.” He corrects her, circling his large thumb in the crook of her palm. 

“So what do we do?” Y/N ponders, draping her leg over his torso and curling in to him.

“I suppose we become a blazing fire, burning hot and unruly. It’s hard to control a fire, and I was always told sometimes it’s good to just let it burn.” He answers, pulling Y/N on top of him and cradling her in his arms so tightly in fear that if he let her go, she’d never return. Her resting head rises to meet his eyes once again,” then we’ll burn together.”

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 4,8k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving) Passionate kissing, fluffy goodness. threats of stalking sexual content included I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath​ , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

"So, did you want to go anywhere in particular?" he asked, putting some space between you two. You took a moment to think, still trying to get your bearings after that intense makeout session.

"Nope," you said, shaking your head slightly and flickering your eyes to meet his gaze briefly before glancing back down at his lips. A small smile played at the corners of your mouth as you took in his features. He seemed to lean in ever so slightly, searching your eyes for anything that might change your mind. You both lingered there momentarily, suspended as if waiting to see what the other would do next. His eyes dropped to your lips and then back up again questioningly. You could feel his breath mingling with yours, the space between you charged with uncertainty. But you held your ground, and after a few agonising seconds, he leaned back again with a soft exhalation, the connection between you broken once more. “Okay…you better go start your last day.”

 You give Channie a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good day"

As you walk inside, Bec notices your arrival. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join us. How nice of you to grace us with your presence.” She says it with a smile, so you know she's just teasing.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.' You take the seat next to Noah. "Thanks for saving me a spot. What did I miss?"

Noah fills you in on the discussion so far. You chime in with your perspective, and the conversation continues.

CHAN POV

I’ve been staring at this screen for the past 30 minutes. I’m searching for the best spots to go on a date in Seoul.

“Research, huh? Looks an awful lot like you're planning a date with me! Come on, who's the lucky lady? ” Changbin crept in behind me.

“No, no,” I said, slamming my laptop shut, “it's really not a date. I'm just trying to find the right setting to describe in my song. You know I like my songs to paint a picture for the listener. I was browsing local places to get inspired” stupid Channie like you haven’t been on enough dates to know how to write a long song.

“Sure, sure, that's what they all say. We both know you've been on plenty of dates to write a good love song by now.. but whatever”, he says, taking his seat and opening his laptop.

I opened mine back up and clicked out of the window immediately. I’m going to have to think of something else.

“I heard Sky Rose Garden is lovely….for your song, of course,” Changbin said before putting on his headset.

I did a quick Google search, and Changbin was right. It was absolutely perfect. It looked quiet and romantic, but there would also be enough coverage to be as private as I needed.

Y/N POV

You heard the doorbell go off as you finished tapping the last box. “Noah, the boxes at the door go first”, you said, turning around, but the person in front of you was not Noah. “Dylan”, you spoke with such disgust.

You're just as beautiful as I remember," he whispered, slowly creeping towards you.

Your heart was racing as the memories came flooding back. You backed away slowly, your eyes darting around for any escape. "Get away from me. Remember what happened last time?" you said, your voice quivering with fear and anger.

“Take it easy. I’m not going to touch you, sweetheart,” he smirked. “I just came to see how your job hunting was going?” He had to be up to something. Dylan was not one for small talk.

“Well, if you must know, I found a job rather quickly.” But you knew Dylan too well to believe that lie. He lived for making you squirm with panic. Your back hit the cold brick wall. 

"Well, quit that job and come back to me. You were always an excellent assistant," he pleaded, though his words sent a chill down your spine.

"HA. You are so full of yourself, Dylan. I'm not leaving my new job for you," you said, trying to mask the fear in your voice. His presence alone was enough to make your blood run cold.

"Leave your new master. Come and be with me. I've changed," he insisted, but his eyes told a different story. Those dark windows to his soul showed only emptiness where a heart should be.

"Delightful. . change for the next victim," you said spitefully, unable to hide the tremor in your hands. You had to escape, but would you ever truly feel safe again, as long as he was still out there?

“What is it about him?”

“Let me see…. hmmmm… foremost, he respects my boundaries,” you snarl at him.

The whole time you were with Dylan, he never allowed you to speak about your feelings or participate in things that brought you pleasure. You were constantly on edge, jumping at every slight noise, terrified of upsetting him somehow.

“You’re really going to hold that one night against me,” he spat, taking a menacing step closer.

"YOU SCARED ME!" You screamed, your voice trembling with fear, "AND YOU WANT FORGIVENESS. Let me set you straight: I am not leaving my job for you and will not be leaving Chris for you. You got that.” Your whole body was shaking now, every instinct screaming at you to run.

"No, let me set you straight. I will have you. . even if it's the last thing I do," he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. With that, he turned and stalked out, leaving you alone with nothing but your racing thoughts and pounding heart.

…..

CHAN POV

My hands, they, they won't stop sweating. What if, what if she hates the place I chose? I didn't even think to ask her what kind of date she liked. God, I'm such an idiot.

I see her car on the cameras, the cameras I had put in after what happened with Dylan.

There, there she is! Getting out of the car now was so graceful. But her face, her beautiful face, looks so cold. So indifferent. She walks like she's approaching a job she doesn't want. My heart is pounding. I'm sure she can hear it from outside. As she approaches the door, I want to hide, to pretend I'm not even here. But it's too late now. Too late to change anything. I just hope against hope that I haven't ruined everything before it even starts. 

“Shit… Something is wrong,” I mumble to myself.

Y/n lets herself in. “Hey,” She smiled, oblivious that I had been watching her the whole time.

“Hey…. Everything okay?” I say kindly.

“Yeah, just a tough day at work is all”, understandable due to it being her last shift. She leaned in and placed a confirming kiss on my lips.

“Okay… You Sure?” That kiss didn’t feel like it nasally would. I’m starting to get worried.

“Yes, everything is fine, Channie… Promise,” she smiled, walking into her room. “I’ll be ready in a minute, okay?” I could hear her through the door.

…….

“Is this okay to wear?” she walks into the living room wearing a tight black cocktail dress, hugging her body in all the right places. Trying to stop my cock tenting in my pants is really starting to prove to be challenging for me.

“Y-yeah”, I stumble over my words like an idiot. She blushes as she walks into the kitchen to get a drink. I walk in behind her, pressing my body against hers. “Couldn’t be more perfect?” I say, trailing kisses from the base of her ear to her collarbone.

“We are going to miss our reservation,” she giggles.

I couldn’t help but smile into the crook of her neck.

“Your right…Grab the keys, and I’ll meet you at the car.” I walk off into the bedroom and grab my wallet and shoes, also giving myself a hot minute to calm the raging hard-on I have going on in my pants.

“Pull yourself together, Chan”, I say, looking into the mirror. “It’s just a date…. why are you so nervous all the time?” it’s true, not like this is our first time meeting or anything. It is our first official date, however.

“I’ve left her waiting long enough”, I say in the mirror, brushing the imaginary dust off my shirt.

As I walk into the garage, I see y/n waiting patiently. She is so engrossed in her phone she doesn’t even see me walking towards the car.

“You sure there’s nothing wrong?” I question.

“I’m sure”, but her smile does not convince me. I’ve decided to leave it for now.

Y/N POV

Grace

“WHAT! He wants you back after everything he put you through?” You can see it now: Grace practically yells at you through the phone.

Y/n

“Yeah... he also had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to come to work for him.”

Grace

“What did Chan say?”

Y/N

“Nothing. I haven’t told him yet.”

Grace

“You should.”

Y/N

“Not tonight… it would crush him if I told him on our date…. He’s worked so hard on this.”

Grace

“Hold on…. Chan is taking you on a date?”

Y/N

“it’s part of our contract.”

Grace

“Cute never known chan to go on dates.”

Y/N

“it’s for me…. He thought I might like it.”

Grace

“Sure, haha…. It’s for you.”

Y/N

“🙄 he’s coming. Got to go.”

Grace

“Have fun…. and watch your attitude, missy.”

…..

As he approaches the car, he asks, “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

His read of you was so spot on that you didn’t know if you could continue to keep this secret from him. “I’m sure." You gave him a reassuring smile, facing the road ahead to avoid his eye contact. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew he was suspicious and that you had to find a way to keep yourself together until you got home. 

He holds your thigh tighter than usual on the drive to the restaurant. His eyes dart back and forth to you and the road. You make no eye contact when he sighs and removes his hand from your leg to grab the steering wheel. 

To get a conversation going, he smiles sweetly, caressing your thigh again as he says, "I'm a little nervous".

“Don’t be…. I’m sure I’ll love whatever you have planned.” For the first time tonight, a genuine smile streaks across your face. You wanted him to have a good time. He has been planning this for you and didn't want the situation of Dylan coming to you at work to wreck his efforts. You are going to put an effort in for him. He deserves that.

“I really hope so.” He squeezes your thigh.

You had been so stressed out that you didn't notice that you had pulled into the most beautiful driveway you'd ever seen. You're speechless. “OH MY GOD…… is this….”

“Sky Rose Garden?” he said, finishing your sentence. “Why have you been here before?” You can tell he is starting to stress. You had never been to such a fancy place, and the thought of you being completely underdressed now crosses your mind.

“No… but the waiting list is months long … how did you get a reservation?”

“I just called,” he laughed, as it was easy. You then realised that for someone like Chan, it was, in fact, that easy. You felt a wave of envy wash over you as you learned how easy his life was. 

“Are you gonna open the door for me or what?” he fumbles for a moment before he swings open his door, racing around to yours.

“This way,” he says, extending his hand.

“Thank you, sir ... just go inside, please”, the waiter says, leading you through the large double door covered in pink rose vines.

“As requested, sir, a table with a view of the city," he says, leading you both to the table. Chan smiles, and his eyes glisten as he pulls the chair for you to sit on. He pushes it into the table as you go to sit down.

“Can I start you with a bottle of wine?” the waiter places the menu in front of you as Chan walks to take his seat.

“Yes, a bottle of champagne." As he is about to finish his sentence, you interrupt, knowing he will spend his money in an attempt to impress you.

“The house, Merlot, please.” You smiled sweetly, and his eyes shot to yours.

“Why not Champaign?” Chan says as the waiter is still standing there.

“Because it’s too expensive,” you say, looking at the man.

“Not like I don’t have money," he frowned. He was upset, but you don't need Chan to impress you with money and fame. You just want him. 

“NO... No more spending money on me,” you say as you look at the waiter.

“Why won’t you let me spoil you?” His wreckles between his eyes narrow.

“You’ve done enough already, Chan," you say; you feel guilty for everything he’s done. He is letting you move in with him and getting you a job; when you agreed to be his sub, you didn't expect him to be this invested, and you feel as though now you owe him more than you can repay. 

“Thank you.” He nods at the waiter, who leaves you to browse the menu.

“Hey…look at me”, Chan growls as he pulls the menu out of your hand.

You look at him as he leans over the table, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I will spend my money how I choose... I want to spend my money on you… is that clear?” but you won’t accept that, and you can't. You do not deserve his kindness after keeping what happened today from him.

“No, I don’t deserve it.” You felt horrible for lying to him like this, but it was for his own good.

“Why do you keep saying that? What happened?” Just as those words exit his mouth, you hear.

“Channie”, this girl in a bombshell dress walks over to our table.

“Vanessa?” Chan’s eyes glisten, and your heart sinks. Why is he looking at her like this? Could he still have feelings for her? Channie smiles, and you look away, a wave of nausea washing over you. 

She was taller, skinnier, and prettier than you; she was an absolute hottie. You don’t blame him at all for looking at her that way.

“How have you been, Channie?” she smiled at him.

“Don’t call me that.” He frowns, turning to face you.

“Come on, Channie... don’t be like that. It’s been forever,” she whined as she practically stomped her feet like a child.

"Can't you see I’m busy, Nessa?” he growled, making her step back.

Nessa? He’s even still using her nickname. 

“I’m just trying to be nice, Channie... is that your new sub?” she said, extending her hand to shake yours. What is she doing here? Why is she so interested in who you are? 

“Don’t”, Chan growls, sending a shiver down your spine. You can see his anger rush up his neck, his ears burning.

“Okay…. Well, she is super beautiful. She smiles at you, like complimenting you was all she came over for. Just when you thought this situation couldn’t get any worse.

“Dylan”, she smiles and runs over to him. You see Chan's hand ball into fists, and he holds back, trying not to make a scene in this restaurant.

Dylan, your ex-dom, the guy begging to get back with you just a couple of hours earlier, is on a date with Vanessa Chan’s ex. After what he said this morning, this was not a coincidence, but how did he know you were here, and most importantly, how did he get a reservation this shortly? 

“Well, shit fancy running into you here." You want to slap that shit-eating grin right off his smug face.

Chan’s body stiffens as you reply, “Is it?” knowing he was doing this to toy with you. Dylan had always liked to play with his victims.

“Touchy… wow, okay…not happy to see me, I see” he’s being a real dick, but Chan is managing to keep his cool, not knowing how long he can keep this act up for.

“Fuck off, Dylan”, Chan spat, finally losing his shit.

“Or what?” Brilliant, now there will be a fight in the sky rose garden. Chan gets up from his seat and gets into Dylan's face. Vanessa just stands there.

“Wait…” Vanessa gets in between them.

“Dylan, baby, let’s go get our seats.” Finally, you’re glad one of them has some sense.

“Good idea", you nod to Vanessa.

“Think about what I said today”, he winks, walking away with his arm around Vanessa.

“What did he say?” op fuck Chan turns around so quick “Did he come to harass you today? I’m gonna fucking kill him.” he goes walking after him.

“Chan! Stop and sit down,” you said. Chan walks around, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up.

"Let's go… you can explain yourself on the way home.” Chan passed the waiter a $100 note, pulling you out of the restaurant and into the car park.

“Sir, I-I’m”

“Save it... You are telling me everything.” You nod your head and stand in silence until the car pulls up.

Chan still opens the car door for you. He could be that mad, right? “You are in so much trouble, y/n", he growls, putting your seatbelt on. This was something he had never done before. You can see his eyes darken as he snaps into dom mode.

He closes the door and tips the man, hopping into the driver’s seat. You can feel the tension.

“Channie, please,” you say, grabbing his hand. He pulls away, saying nothing.

“I’m sorry… I should have told you," you say on the verge of tears.

“Tell me what, I still don’t know what the fuck he said to you” he is pissed, and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“He came into work today and wanted me to leave you and go and work for him.” His hand gripped the steering wheel harder, causing his knuckles to whiten.

“And you decided it was best not to tell me this.” You reach out to grab his hand again.

“No…. You don’t get to hold my hand….only good girls get to hold my hand” shit, you’ve really done it this time. You've never seen him like this. Chan was a reasonable guy, but he is big on trust, and you have definitely broken it.

“I didn’t want to wreck our date.” You hung your head in shame. The trip was silent the rest of the way home.

…..

Pulling into the driveway, Chan leans in and unbuckles you, his voice heavy, “Inside and to your room….NOW”

“I’m not a child, Chan. “You bite back. You might be his sub, but he will not treat you like a kid. 

“Well, you sure as hell are acting like one right now,” he laughed back. 

“You’re a dick,” you say, exiting the car.

“Whatever, liar?" he shot from inside the car.

You walk inside the house and slam the door in his face, fuck him. He wasn't going to talk to you like that. Sure, you didn't tell him about today, but it wasn't like it would be a secret forever. 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react exactly like this,” you yell at him as he walks in the door.

“I don’t understand. Why am I always the last person to know? Do you not trust me?” You can tell it hurt him.

“You really going there?”

“Yes, I am … because you were thinking about it, weren’t you?”

“If you must know, I told him to stick it,” you said, folding your arms. He was about to open his mouth when your stomach rumbled. “Great”, you thought to yourself; he snapped out of his trance. His eyes soften as he steps forward.

“Have you eaten today?” he said, softening his anger.

“No… I wasn’t hungry,” you say, slumping your head.

“Fuck sake”, he gets out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you snarl. Unbelievably, he pulled out his phone during an argument.

“Shut up… I’m ordering you food”, he said, typing on his phone. He still ensures all your needs are met even while furious at you.

“Chan,” you say, on the verge of tears.

“This isn’t over, y/n… I’m pissed…but we will talk about this in the morning.” His jaw clenches as he scrolls through the takeout menu.

Once the food came, Chan sat and ate silently at the table. He finished his meal, got up from the table, placed his plate in the sink and went to his room, turning to you and saying, “I assume you will sleep in your own room tonight,” closing the door behind him.

……

Chan POV

I don’t think I have ever felt so angry and hurt at once. I slammed the door behind me. Running my hand through my hair. Did I just say that to her? Why was I so cruel?

The house fell silent, and I could hear Y/N’s bedroom door close. Her bathroom was just behind the wall. I walked over to it, placing my head against it, wishing I could take it all back.

I could hear her sobbing behind the wall. “You monster”, I thought to myself. I want to comfort her, just bust into that bathroom and apologise for my tone… but I can’t. I just can't do it; I would be so mad if I went in there. Who knows what I might do to her? I won't be able to control myself.

…….

I toss and turn, unable to sleep. "Shit", I mumble; I can’t help but feel like the most giant dick known to man; I look at the clock, and it’s 3 am. I feel like I'm going insane; what am I going to do with her? How do I make her trust me? Slowly, my eyes become heavy, and I drift off to sleep. My alarm goes off at 9 am. “Fuck off,” I groan as I hit the snooze button. I wonder if Y/N is up. I didn’t feel so angry now, but she was still getting punishment. I cannot let this lying to me slide.

I get out of bed and walk out of my bedroom. Fuck, what kind of punishment do I give her anyway? I’ll decide after breakfast.

I cook bacon and eggs, making extra for Y/N as a little “I’m still going to take care of you, but…. You've pissed me off” kind of thing.

I hear Y/N's door open, and her head pokes out. “Come out, Y/N “, I say in a monotone voice. She slowly leaves her room, her head lowered to look at the ground.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just came out to get food. I’ll leave you alone, I promise.” My heart dropped. Was she really going to eat in her room alone? Did she think I wanted that? I sighed, placing my palms on the bench and leaning over. It's time for me to suck it up.

'It’s okay. I’ve made you some eggs," I said, placing some on a plate for her. Y/N’s eyes lit up.

“But don’t think you are getting away with lying to me”, I snarl, knowing she will try to wheeze her way out of this punishment.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir”, she said, sitting down as I served her the plate. She smiles as I hand her a fork. I enjoy watching her eat, knowing she is replenishing her body.

“Well, eat up... you have a full day of cleaning the playroom”, I kind of giggle to myself as I devise one of the best punishments I have done to date.

Y/N POV

“Where did you get this skimpy maid outfit, Chan?” you said, confused as to why it was so important you wear this.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he laughed. “Now, here’s the scrubber and disinfectants …. Come see me when you’re done.”

You walk into the playroom, bucket in hand. “Okay .... where to begin?” you say to yourself.

The sheets might be a good place to start.

………

An hour had passed, and you were definitely over this punishment. “I am never lying again,” you say, scrubbing the last trail on the floor.

“That’s kind of the point.” Chan chuckles as he enters the room.

“Good job, little one, this looks awesome”, he smiles, proud of himself.

“Sir…. I haven’t finished yet,” you say, worried you’ve run out of time.

“It’s okay, princess. I think you’ve done enough,” he says, taking the brush out of your hand.

“I really am sorry, sir, for lying to you. Please let me make it up to you,” you cheekily grin, coming up with the best apology plan.

Chan’s eyes widen as you crawl over to him, kneeling at his feet. “I ah” he gulps.

"Please, sir. I want you to know it won't happen again," you say softly as you gaze up at him through your lashes, your hands trembling slightly as you reach for the drawstring of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you pull the cord loose and slide the soft fabric down over his muscular thighs, unable to resist brushing your fingers lightly over the bulge straining against his briefs. A small gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock springs free, heavy and hard, as you wrap your fingers delicately around the hot shaft. Stroking gently from base to tip, a bead of precum forms on the swollen head as you swirl your thumb over the slick slit. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," you whisper, parting your lips to take the broad crown into your eager mouth.

You grab it with one hand while you flick the head with your tongue. “god…okay”, he groans; you hated that Chan was disappointed in you; you had to make this one of the best blow jobs he’s ever had. 

Spitting down his shaft, you start to pump his massive cock. Using your tongue to swirl around his tip, allowing his dick to reach further into your mouth. 

Deep-throating was the only good thing you learned from your last master’s, and you intend to use those skills tonight. 

“I’m…sorry…. sir”, you kiss down his shaft while looking up at him. 

He clears his throat, his voice low and husky. "For what!" He moaned as pleasure coursed through his body. You couldn't help but find it a little funny that at the slightest touch, Master Chan forgets everything but the sensations you create within him. 

“Good to know,” you mumble to yourself.

You take all of him in your mouth, deep-throating his massive cock as he moans, "holy fuck". You maintain a steady rhythm, eager to bring him to the edge and taste his release.

“That felt so good”, he moaned as you got ready to retake his dick. 

Moans of pleasure escape his lips as you take more and more of his length, hungrily bobbing your head up and down. His hands find their way into your hair, gently guiding your movements at first but soon gripping tighter as his arousal builds. "Oh fuck, that feels so good, baby," he groans, his hips beginning to thrust in time with your sucking. Deeper and deeper, you take him, relaxing your throat to accept more of his hardness with each plunge. The slurping and sucking sounds fill the room as your mouth works tirelessly to bring him to the edge. "I'm so close; don't stop," he pants, his grip on your hair tightening as his orgasm nears.

A few more deep, passionate thrusts and his hot liquid hit the back of your throat, making you instantly swallow every drop of his essence.

“That’s it, baby girl”, his body shaking. You sigh as he releases your hair, your scalp tingling from where his fingers had been entwined. The passion between you in that moment was intense.

Leaning down slowly, he gently carefully moves your hair out of your face. His eyes gaze into yours as he brings his face closer to yours. You feel his warm breath upon your skin as his lips inch nearer. Ever so softly, they meet yours in a tender kiss.

A/N: thank you all ❤️ I appreciate all the love as usual please reblog and leave a like an comment.

Master Taglist : @bellamuerte1987 @nightrayseishina @9900z @armystay89 @dreamstarsandskz @raven-skz95 @fosfopirite @neyangi @princesspanda16 @krishastumblernow @agnes-king @bangtanmix73 @calicanbeevil @khemrose @fawnpeaks @missrobyn81 @dreambelieveinme @umbreonwolfy @jisungiexx @scarletrosesposts @choisoorin @izzathequeen @binnies-minsung-fanclub @jetblackbelle @bunnyxoxodarling @berryberrytan @sky-outta @zerefdragn33l @shiningnono @tinys0ftie @zinnichong @tuggybug @nokacchan @amaranth-writing @seungbinis @jisunglover3409 @kimseungminsprincess @goblin-waifu @skzswife @uwuitsjungwoo @marrivmel

[alister312]

Summary:

Craig's mad at Tweek and Kyle's mad at Stan. Spending Friday night moping around the school is pretty lame though, so Craig decides they should do something to rile their exes up.

this is an attack for @iksvolforb for the @spinthetags south park olympics! art is by @danilazuli and not included within the attack.

Read now on ao3 or below the cut!

It wasn’t uncommon for Craig and Tweek to be “on the outs” every other week. Usually it started with a small fight that they both pushed down, resolving to talk about it later like mature people, only to forget to do that between the pressures of school and (in Tweek’s case) work. This built and built until it burst and one of them couldn’t handle it anymore and they broke up. They never meant to; they were just teenagers. Not everyone could achieve the same emotional maturity Wendy and Tolkien seemingly effortlessly did.

This particular break up was really bugging Craig though because normally when they broke up, they got back within the month. The problem this time was that neither of them would admit that they were wrong. Craig thought it was pretty clear that Tweek should apologize for forgetting their goddamn anniversary, but Tweek was adamant that Craig should understand by now that he has a job with hours he can never predict because his dad fucking sucks. Tweek’s dad did suck, but it was their anniversary. That had to take priority (the work-skipping kind).

It didn’t, apparently, so the next month rolled around and Craig found himself still single. What was worse, Tweek wouldn’t even talk to him. Craig never liked to think of himself as the kind of guy who had to be in a relationship to function, but he was coming to realize that he couldn’t remember being out of one for this long before. Much of his life outside of school had happened around Tweek, or around where he worked. 

His life wasn’t all Tweek of course; there was Clyde. Clyde had started spending more time with Jimmy these days though and they had some long standing Friday night tradition checking out whatever local live show they could find in Denver. It was their thing, like how Craig’s used to be hanging out at Tweak Bros. with Kenny, waiting for Tweek. Kenny was more of a friend of a friend though, or friend of an ex now, so Craig was left with no one tonight.

Devoid of literally anything else to do and not wanting to just go home, Craig decided to wander the school. Aside from completely barren hallways, it wasn’t so different from normal school hours. Teachers sat in their classrooms hunched over papers, grading until they couldn’t take it anymore. A few students stuck around in odd nooks and crannies, mostly those who couldn’t find peace and quiet anywhere else. The goths were out back, basically permanent fixtures.

Craig’s wanderings eventually took him to the gym. He could hear the squeak of sneakers on rubber, so he opened the door. Inside was Kyle, practicing layups alone. He looked over at Craig in the doorway.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” Craig replied. He chewed his bottom lip, teetering on the possibility of sticking around. He and Kyle were on… fine terms with each other. Not friends, not unfriendly. Staying wouldn’t be weird, but it might be awkward. Watching him practice would guarantee Craig an excuse for at least another hour though, so he stepped inside and over to the bleachers.

“Um,” Kyle said. “Did you… want to join in or—”

“No.” Craig waved his hand dismissively. “You keep… tossing that ball or whatever. I’ll just be here.”

“Okay…” Kyle frowned, dragging out the word. He sighed and shook his head, rolling his shoulders and going back to his layups. Craig sat down next to Kyle’s gym bag and took out his phone, mindlessly scrolling between apps. Occasionally he looked up at Kyle. Craig really didn’t know or care much about sports so he couldn’t say what made Kyle good, but he was clearly skilled. It was hard to make team captain if you sucked.

Kyle kept glancing over at Craig from time to time, curious about him. Craig hoped to avoid talking about it but when they accidentally made eye contact, he knew he couldn’t. Kyle was at least nice enough to wait half a minute before clearing his throat.

“So,” he said, “any reason you’re here and not… anywhere else?” Craig shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on his phone. Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. “I mean like, shouldn’t you be spending Friday night with, I don’t know, Tweek or something?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending it with Stan or something?” Craig said, as nastily as he could in his usual monotone. The clumsy clang of the basketball on the rim (as opposed to the quiet swish of the net he’d gotten used to) made Craig look up again. Kyle’s brows were knit together and he wore a deep scowl.

“Yeah. Well,” Kyle grumbled. Craig raised an eyebrow. Apparently he and Tweek weren’t the only ones fighting. 

His eyes shifted from Kyle down to his gym bag. It was decorated with the South Park Cows logo, some safety pins (probably Stan’s), and a rainbow ribbon tied to the main pocket’s zipper. Kyle had the proud title of the school’s first voluntarily out gay kid, so up-front, loud, and proud when he announced it. Craig had always secretly really appreciated him for it. Being the role model gay kid wasn’t something he was suited for. Kyle handled it much better.

“Hey.” Craig looked back over at Kyle, feeling the kind of stupidly impulsive that came from two months apart from your longtime boyfriend. “Do you wanna go out?” A resounding thud sounded from the backboard as Kyle missed again. He’d whipped his head to stare at Craig so fast his hair smacked him in his face. Kyle swore as he pushed it back, then frowned at Craig.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Do you wanna go out,” Craig repeated. “You’re gay, I’m gay, both of us are mad at our exes—”

“I’m not mad at Stan,” Kyle said.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Broflovski.”

“Ok asshole, even if I was, why would that mean I’d go out with you?”

“To piss Stan off like he pissed you off,” Craig said. “Look, it doesn’t have to be a real date. We get out of here, go to Tweak Bros. so Tweek can see me with you and then you can post a picture of us so Stan will see you with me.”

“That’s a shit plan, Craig.”

“Ok, well, you have nothing better to do, so…” Craig shrugged. Kyle glared at him, but he also glared down at the floor, thinking. After a few moments of muttering, he threw his hands up in the air.

“Why not,” Kyle said. “You’re paying for my coffee and anything else though.” He crossed the gym floor and picked up his bag. “I gotta shower and change. I’ll meet you outside.” Though fearing for his wallet, Craig smiled a little as he watched Kyle leave. If nothing else, this had to at least get Tweek talking to him again.

***

Only fifteen minutes later, Craig found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Kyle’s car. That was another thing he’d always secretly appreciated about Kyle– his promptness. He also cleaned up nicely, his hair freshly spritzed with something that made it soft and got rid of any evidence of sweat. They both had on a similar outfit of pants, a shirt, and a jacket but Kyle’s pants were chinos (not jeans) and his jacket not as old as Craig’s. Even though it wasn’t a real date, Craig felt bad that he was underdressed in comparison. He took off his hat and combed his fingers through his hair on the ride over. A little more effort than he usually put in. It would do.

“Ah shit,” Kyle muttered when they pulled in. Craig followed his gaze to Kenny’s car parked nearby.

“You know he and Tweek are, like, super close, right?” Craig said.

“Yeah, I know,” Kyle sighed. “That doesn’t mean I knew he’d be here. If Kenny sees us together, he’s gonna bug me about it all weekend.”

“We can tell him to fuck off then,” Craig said, knowing full well that he’d probably also get Kenny hounding him about this “date” and equally not looking forward to it. “It’s none of his business.”

“I doubt he’ll listen but… we’ll see,” Kyle said, smiling tiredly. He turned the car off and got out with Craig following.

Tweak Bros. always smelled like home to Craig. Coffee was way too bitter in terms of taste but the smell was so comforting, like a sigh at the end of a long day. It wrapped around them, a warm and welcoming escape from the Colorado night as they stepped inside. Craig could smell that Tweek had recently taken out a fresh batch of scones too, cinnamon chip ones.

He was there behind the counter– Tweek. His head perked up at the chime of the bell as the door opened, an instinctive customer-service smile halfway on his face.

“Hi, I’ll be with you in a mo—” Tweek froze, realizing who they were. Craig did his best to appear completely unaffected, walking up to the cash register. Behind him, Kyle hesitated for a moment, but he joined Craig and stared at the menu hanging above them. He squinted at it, looking oddly confused.

“You good?” Craig asked. “You can read it, right?”

“Of course I can,” Kyle snapped at him, too quickly, which meant he couldn’t. The print was pretty small and Craig remembered then that Kyle needed glasses. He’d assumed that he never wore them because he opted for contacts instead, but maybe he just straight up never saw well. Craig took out his phone and pulled up the Google doc of the menu. Years ago, Tweek had entrusted it to him to help him study and memorize it.

“Here,” Craig said, giving it to Kyle.

“Oh,” Kyle said, surprised. “Thanks Craig.” He looked through it while Craig waited. He always got the same thing so he was ready, but Tweek was doing literally anything but coming to take their orders. There were only so many imaginary spots he could clean though and people started lining up behind Craig and Kyle, so he eventually gritted his teeth and walked over.

“Welcome to Tweak Bros., what can I get for you?” Tweek said in the most forced polite tone Craig had ever heard from him. It genuinely upset him a bit, but if he got upset then Tweek won, so he just blinked slowly instead.

“Small chai tea,” Craig said, then turned to Kyle. “Babe, what do you want?” The coffeeshop air was suddenly no longer warm, but thick with an icy intenseness as both Kyle and Tweek froze at that statement. Kyle’s finger hovered over the phone screen and Craig could see the gears turning in his head. He tensed, just slightly, bracing himself for just in case Kyle decided to slap him for his boldness. Thankfully, Tweek’s palpable rage kept him from also noticing any of this.

“Just one sec,” Kyle said, apparently deciding to roll with Craig. “Uh, I’ll have a latte. Hot, grande size, with oat milk instead of the regular dairy. Three pumps of vanilla syrup, plus an extra shot of espresso, and no foam. Oh, and one of those brownies in the case. No, two actually. And that, uh, turkey wrap thing. Warmed up.”

Kyle patted Craig’s arm and smiled, promising to find them a table as he walked away, but there was a bit of smugness to it. A satisfaction that he’d managed to craft the perfect frustrating and expensive order and left Craig to deal with the consequences of it all. And people thought Craig was an asshole.

“Jesus, what even is that order?” Tweek grumbled, scribbling away at a cup. “Does he know this isn’t– nngh– fucking Starbucks?”

“I’ve seen you make that kind of thing before though,” Craig said.

“Shut up,” Tweek said. “That’ll be $25 dollars and I’m not putting it on a tab.”

***

A few minutes later and $30 dollars poorer (he tipped, of course, even though Tweek told him that wouldn’t change anything), Craig made his way to the table where Kyle was doing his best to avoid eye contact with Kenny, who was standing over him. He turned his attention to Craig.

“Ok, Craig, what the hell?” Kenny said.

“What do you mean?” Craig sat down at the table.

“This,” Kenny gestured back and forth between Craig and Kyle. “What the hell is going on here? I know both of you are going through respective rough patches right now, but being petty isn’t going to fix that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just on a normal first date.”

“You’re a damn liar, Craig. I’m not stupid. I can’t believe you dragged another person into your problems. And Kyle, c’mon, you’re above this. You have to know this is a bad idea.”

“Oh fuck off, Kenny,” Kyle said, now glaring up at him. “Craig asked me out and I said yes because I wanted to go out with him. That’s all there is to it.” He reached across the table and defiantly took Craig’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Craig blushed. Sure he’d initiated the whole date idea and called Kyle “babe” but he hadn’t expected Kyle to so adamantly defend him. It was nice though.

Kyle’s fieriness was honestly pretty attractive. He sat up straighter and jutted his chin out a bit, his cheeks tinted pink with annoyance. He wasn’t jacked or anything, actually fairly slender, but he had some definite muscle tone and his eyes burned a deep green, challenging anyone to cross him. Honestly, Craig realized, Kyle reminded him a lot of Tweek. He was like if Tweek had a steadier head on his shoulders, which was one of the things Craig had often guiltily wished for.

Maybe, subconsciously, he’d known that and that was why he chose Kyle for this.

“Yeah,” Craig smiled. “Fuck off, Kenny.” He flipped off Kenny, who rolled his eyes and held his hands up, walking away. Kyle sighed.

“God,” he muttered, reaching for his drink and the food. “I love Kenny but I hate when he treats me like I don't know what I’m doing. I’m not a kid.”

“Maybe it’s because you ordered two brownies for dinner?” Craig asked.

“So?” Kyle scoffed. “I was working out when you saw me, remember? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah,” Craig said. “The brownies here kind of suck though. They’re dry.

“Ugh, now you tell me. I hate dry brownies.”

“Same.” Craig took a sip of his drink. “What else pisses you off?” Kyle seemed thrown by the question, but slowly he started opening up. 

Neither of them were angry people exactly, but they did both have a lot of things that irked them. Craig usually didn’t bring it up because happy-go-lucky Clyde couldn’t sympathize and paranoid Tweek often thought Craig was secretly talking about him. It was a relief to not have to cage himself. Kvetching, Kyle called it. It was one of his favorite destressors. Even though Kyle’s kvetching lost its fieriness as the night went on, Craig thought the smiles he switched to were just as attractive.

Last call for orders seemed to come too soon, even if they had actually been there for hours. Besides Kenny and of course Tweek, only they and some guy typing away at his laptop were left.

“We should go,” Craig said.

“Don’t you want to stay til closing though?” Kyle frowned. “To talk to Tweek?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Craig shrugged. “So we can head out after you have your picture.”

“Oh yeah,” Kyle murmured. “I forgot about that.” He took out his phone and scooted closer to Craig, leaning back and tilting his head so it was just shy of resting on Craig’s shoulder. The idea of it was there, though, that he might do that. Craig too gave the subtle hint of closeness without actually going for it, his face tilted just so that, any moment, he just might nuzzle Kyle’s hair. It was tempting.

In a second the photo was over and Kyle was no longer inches away. Craig watched him post it with the caption “Had a good time tonight 💙”. It was clear, but subtle. Craig liked it. As they exited, Kyle’s phone started ringing. The name on the screen read “Stan”.

“Wow,” Craig said.

“God, that was fast,” Kyle muttered. He stared at the name as it kept ringing. Again those gears were turning in his head and Craig wondered what exactly was going through his head this time. Kyle let it ring all the way to the end and the screen informed he had one missed call from Stan. As it started up again, Kyle hung up on purpose and stuck his phone in his pocket.

“Hey, do you think there’s a lot of people at Stark’s Pond right there?” he asked Craig.

“Probably,” Craig said. “I know a spot near it that's kind of hidden though. I stargaze there.”

“Wanna go?” Kyle smiled. Through the window, Craig caught Tweek’s gaze. All the malice that had been it all evening was gone and it was soft, confused. They would talk tomorrow. About what, Craig wasn’t entirely sure. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to come out of the conversation.

For now, he nodded to Kyle and walked back to his car with him. Kyle switched his phone to vibrate before pulling out. Craig had a strong suspicion that he was putting off his own conversation, but he didn’t care. Stark’s Pond was waiting for them.

[farfromstrange]

Matt Murdock Vacation Headcanons

As promised, here are my headcanons for Matt Murdock on vacation. I will be turning this into a fic soon, I promise.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!reader

Summary: Just some headcanons about our dear Matthew on vacation

Warnings: Spicy themes (but no detailed smut), flying (?), sensory overload mentions, that’s it

a/n: You want to talk or request something? Just press the button in my bio and I will answer as soon as possible!

18+ MINORS DNI

Going on vacation with Matthew would include…

Matt would NOT sleep on the plane but he’d want you to, especially when you’re leaving early because sleeping on planes can feel more relaxing than sleeping on the ground, and so he offers you his shoulder (it calms his nerves)

He has earplugs, but refuses to chew gum (the taste and with certain flavors, the spice doesn’t sit right with him, as does the consistency, so he can’t chew gum without getting overwhelmed) and he also can’t take travel sedatives because he feels like they lull his senses in an uncomfortable way

The time in the sky is okay. You know the time between take-off and landing? Yes, that. He just feels a little light-headed due to the change in pressure and air density, but his head becomes a little clearer in the air and it helps with his anxiety (which I’m pretty sure he has every time he has to go anywhere that’s outside of Hell’s Kitchen) a lot.

Landing sucks balls too; the change in pressure causes his ears to close again and his head to feel like mush, and to him it’s even more painful than to everyone else (it depends on the person, of course)

He can feel every little turbulence, so he needs someone to either hold his hand or just sit there to fight off the overstimulation.

He’s jumpy whenever a turbulence hits and part of him is screaming Get out of there or you’ll die! So he needs someone to ground him, distract him, anything.

Though if you’re the one scared of turbulence, he puts his fear second and tries to distract you, which also helps him

You listen to podcasts or watch a movie (if you don’t want to sleep) or you just talk to get his (and perhaps your) mind off of things

The risk of overstimulating is the exact reason for, if you have the money, he’d appreciate it if you guys could fly first- or business class because he has more space to breathe and move around

But if you can’t (which is highly likely because barely anyone can)

Although I think Matt would sacrifice all of his savings to fly first class, simply because he needs to be comfortable

But anyway, if you do end up flying economy (which, like I said, is highly likely to happen) he just needs more things to distract him from the sensory overload that comes with flying

After landing, he wants to be out of that airport as fast as possible, the noise and the smell making his senses go haywire

If you’re going somewhere warm, he needs a hotel with an A/C or he’ll die

He’s scared of the different textures of the food, but he isn’t opposed to trying anything once, especially local foods and restaurants

If you pick a double room with a couple’s shower and mirrors on the walls, you better know the sex is going to be mind-blowing

First day vacation Matt is tired, especially if you’re going to a different time zone, but as soon as the jet lag is over, he gets back his stamina

He hates relaxing, but for you he’ll do the couple’s massages and dinner dates every night, taking walks in the park (if there is one close to your hotel) and everything else that cliché couples do. It makes him feel normal for once, which is nice, considering his life at home is anything but

He also sleeps in for the first time, which has you thinking he’s actually dead

You have room service breakfast in bed with mimosas and everything, him dialing back on the mimosas because he doesn’t want to spend his vacation buzzed every day

He refused to wear shorts, but he’s more than happy when you’re wearing them

City trips are only fun to him if you’re having fun because he can’t see but if you enjoy watching old architecture, he loves listening to you describe it to him (it’s his favorite thing in the world)

Imagine being a history or art buff, visiting historical sights and spurting all this information, or going to museums, describing the artworks and the historical context behind it

He’d love to hear you get all excited

He just loves your voice in general

If you’re more of the beach type of person, he’ll tag along, but he won’t take off his shoes and he won’t lie down in the sand

He also won’t go swimming

But he loves feeling your skin in a bikini

He wants to get ice cream all day every day (vanilla, please). It reminds him of his childhood

Okay, hear me out some more: That man forgets to add sunscreen, so you have to remind him 24/7 not to stay in the sun too long, wear hats and protect his skin

He still doesn’t

But he will riot if you forget

In the end, you’re both burnt to crisps and have to put aloe on each other to ease the pain

You laugh about it though

You go bar hopping one night, enjoying cocktails and good food and a walk on the beach (it doesn’t have to be alcoholic beverages, just something to fill your stomachs and then go on a stroll)

The sex after is even more amazing

You brought a set of lingerie for every single of the seven days you’re on vacation and he LOVES it

Even though he struggles with the sensory overload, he’s never been happier than being on vacation with you

Even though he tells you that next time, you’re going somewhere cold, a cabin in the woods maybe with snow around because the beach? Not one of his favorite things (but for you he’ll gladly do it again)

He totally wants you both to do a skin care routine every night

And massage each other, which eventually ends up with you sitting on his face and him eating you out like you’re his last meal

And he wakes you up like this too

Just going down on you until he’s pussydrunk, and only then can he enjoy the rest of the day

Vacation Matt really ups his sex game. He’s clingier and more desperate, but also more excited to touch and fuck you senseless.

He knows you have all the time in the world and he intends to use that to his advantage

Sleepless nights full of sex become the regular, still somehow getting enough sleep to do the usual tourist activities

If you’re in Spain, you don’t have to speak Spanish because he’ll translate everything for you

He struggles to ignore his Daredevil duties the first night, but as soon as he relaxes, he’s ready to enjoy your stay

His golden rule is though: as long as you’re happy, he certainly is too

[fagexe]

A beginners guide to having a fun time at a small show (some of this also applies to bigger shows)

If you've never been to a show before or you've only been to big shows going to a small or diy show can be confusing. The rules and etiquette of attending a small show are different from what you may have experienced or heard about at a bigger show. I'm here to try to give you some tips and pointers on how to have the best night and help everybody else around you have a great night as well.

Small shows are community based, if you only take one thing away from this post let It be that. The environment is that of friends and acquaintances, this includes the bands that play. The members of these bands are just people who are part of their local scene and enjoy playing music. They should be treated like any other member of the audience, you can be friendly and start up a conversation or compliment the set, but remember they're just a stranger who enjoys the same music you do.

Your first show in a new city or venue? The environment and social expectations of a scene can vary from city to city and venue to venue. If it's your first time being somewhere it's always better to follow the social cues of others rather than looking like an ass. If you don't know what's going on try asking somebody:) Many people in the scene are very happy to welcome newcomers and explain the ins and outs of their individual local seen.

Queuing (if you want "barricade"), for 1500 to 700 person capacity venues, depending on whether or not the show is sold out and the artists popularity, I would suggest showing up 2-4 hours before doors. This would be for places like House of Blues, that are arguably not a small venue, but I'm including them anyway. Anything under 600 I would show up 2 hours to half an hour before doors. Anything under the 300 mark doesn't usually have "barricade" per se, the crowd moves around a bunch and showing up early will not help you get a better vantage point. Note: I never show up anywhere more than an hour before doors and I can usually get pretty close to the stage.

Respect the venue and the people working there, if you're attending a small show, especially a basement show, it's really important to be extra aware of where you put your trash and how you're acting. Oftentimes these locations are rented halls or somebody's actual house. This means there wont be any staff that are being paid to clean up after you, not that you should be messy at larger venues. But at these venues especially try to stick around and help out if you can. If the venue is left trashed they may no longer be willing to host shows in the future.

Braving the pit, there are only three rules I would suggest for the pit, and they all boil down to respect. First, if somebody falls, drops something, or seems like they're having a hard time _always_ stop what you're doing and help them out. Second, don't try to be tough, if the pit is too aggressive for you you can either jump around on the side of it or dance somewhere else. Third, unless you're actively pushing somebody always try to keep your elbows tucked, especially if you're tall. It can be really stressful being a short person in a pit that's just a sea of elbows.

Say hi! not just to the band, to the people around you at the show as well. I know this one can be hard, if you went with folks it's very easy to become insular, and if you went alone it can be scary to talk to people by yourself. Something that I've found really helpful is hanging out outside, either between sets, or after the show (you don't need to smoke I often just cool down with a water bottle). Many people will be excited to see a new face and if you seem open to it they might start up a conversation. If they don't and you don't know what to talk about, try complimenting something somebody's wearing, it can often lead to a story that then can lead to a conversation.

Always show up for the openers, even if you don't care about barricade, you should try to show up for the openers both by physically being there and by paying attention and giving them your energy. I've discovered a lot of really wonderful bands by checking out the openers before a show, learning a couple of their songs, and then really getting into it once they're playing.

Take care of yourself, make sure you come having eaten and drunk enough water, I even suggest bringing a water bottle. Most venues will at least have access to water but it's always good to be self-reliant just in case they run out or something happens. Depending on the style of venue they may require this to be empty, If they do require that, you can usually fill it up once you get inside.

Dress appropriately, especially if you're planning on being up at the front at a punk or hardcore show. You will probably end the night covered in other people's sweat and beer, this is amazing revel in it. But, it's maybe not the time to pull out your favorite shirt, unless you want that for your favorite shirt (in which case I love you)

And last but by no means least, always always always thoroughly check the flyer or event posting to make sure you know if the show is a sober / straight-edge show or not.

(edit) A couple of additional tips that have been suggested in the tags, as well as a few new ones from yours truly

Always bring earplugs, some venues will have them for sale but they're not great quality and they can run out. If you plan on going to a lot of hc/punk shows, or honestly a lot of shows at all, I suggest investing in a $15-25 pair, it'll save your hearing in the long run.

Keep your toes safe! Even if you don't plan on going into the pit it's a good idea to wear closed-toed shoes. You'll be in close quarters with people wearing boots who probably won't be able to tell if they are accidentally stepping on your flip flop shod feet. Shows also involve standing for a number of hours so you may want to think about comfort. I suggest wearing at minimum a converse style shoe with a little bit of structure around the toe. I personally always wear boots with a pair of insoles, but that's just me and my rickety ankles.

do you want to wear a bag all night? If so, that's fine, but you're probably not going to be able to enjoy the pit or dance that much. Some smaller shows will have coat checks, but a lot under 300 capacity won't. I generally suggest against just hiding your bag in the corner, I've seen a lot of people get their stuff stolen. So, pare down, I don't even bring my whole wallet, just a credit card, ID, subway pass, phone, keys, and some cash in case the venue only accepts cash or if something happens and I need to get a taxi home. If you end up keeping stuff in your pockets make sure it's secure. If I know my pant pockets are particularly bad at holding things I'll put my cards and cash in a sandwich bag and pin it to the inside of my pocket. This way it's still accessible but won't fall out.

Picking up merch? Do it after the show, merch rarely sells out at smaller shows. So, pick up anything you want after the show, carrying it around all night can be annoying and you might lose it.

Jewelry? If you plan on going in the pit I wouldn't wear dangly earrings or necklaces, they can get caught on things and ripped out or off, which is not fun at all!

I hope you found this helpful<3 if you have any additional questions or concerns please feel free to dm me or leave me an ask and I'll try to get to it

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Beloved

Fives x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: Hormones vs Pheromones

Summary: A horrible smell leads to a precious discovery. You and Fives have been enjoying your life together, but everything is about to change now that you’re pregnant. While your hormonal imbalance rages, Fives must hang on for dear life as he’s dragged through the stages of fatherhood. Luckily, the 501st has his back and comes to the rescue more than once.

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fives, Kix

Tags & Warnings: established relationship, suggestive themes, pregnancy, morning sickness, vomiting, humor, domestic fluff, insults, sarcasm, light angst, dialogue heavy

Word Count: 4.8k

Author's Note: I came up with this idea after listening to a podcast about a woman whose pregnancy hormones made her absolutely hate her husband. Then it turned into a series… Whoops. Written in second person, but from different perspectives. Main focus is on Fives. Also, lots of dialogue because sarcasm and insults require some talking.

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine because I was going to throw this fic in the trash and she convinced me otherwise. Thanks babe 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Fives

Chapter 1

Your life is blissful nowadays. You and Fives live peacefully in the GAR Commons, which houses the entire 501st Battalion. The communal building complex has multiple accommodations, including studios, one bedrooms, and multi-rooms that will fit up to four clone troopers at a time. There’s also a community mess hall, medbay, shooting range, weight room, and even a courtyard with benches and flowers to enjoy. For GAR standards, it’s a nice place to live.

As an ARC trooper, Fives was able to swipe himself a one bedroom for the two of you. It’s a little thing, but it’s cozy and it’s spacious enough for all of your needs. When you first moved in, you completely fell in love with its simplistic charm. It has all of the necessities, a bedroom, refresher, kitchen, living area, and lots of closet space. You quickly set to work making it a home for you and Fives by adding pictures, a couple decorative pillows, and some nice curtains.

There’s not much else you could ask for to complete your little world. The life of a clone trooper’s wife isn’t always the best, but you never let yourself dwell on the unpredictable aspects of the war. Some days Fives will wake up and be gone for sixty-five rotations and other times he will wake up and be gone for two rotations. Better still, some days he wakes up and doesn’t have to go anywhere. Those are your favorite days, the ones where you get him all to yourself. 

Everything is pretty quiet at the moment. Fives hasn’t gone out on assignment for eighty rotations, which is his longest base assignment on record. Although, he still has duties at the GAR headquarters. Sometimes he trains the shinies and other times he has local missions, but at the minimum, he still makes it home for dinner every night. Well, almost every night. Once and a while, he’ll kick back at 79s with the boys and drink late into the night like old times. 

Fives isn’t the party boy he used to be, so you find it funny when he makes an attempt. When you first met him at 79s, he was wild, rowdy, and an absolute terrible flirt. He tried time and time again to get you to go out on a date with him using cheesy pick-up lines, but they never worked. Eventually, he stopped trying, and you found yourself missing his playful advances. You thought he was charming and funny, and adored his hearty laugh. Finally, you caved and began dating. 

Now married, he spends more time at home and less time at the bar. Neither of you know when he will ship out again, so it’s important to spend quality time together as a couple when he is at home. This particular evening is brimming with relaxation while you watch the latest holo-film. Both of you are snuggling in bed, your head resting on his shoulder while he holds a bowl of popcorn on his chest. You put your hand in the bowl, take a few pieces, and pop them into your mouth. 

“He’s going to die,” you say while munching away. 

Fives cocks his head. “You think?” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you nod. 

“Why do you say that?” Fives asks while grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“They’ve built him up way too much to let him live,” you point out while gesturing towards the holo-film.

“Brutal,” Fives shakes his head.

“I know right?” you chuckle and toss more popcorn into your mouth.

As the holo-film draws to its conclusion, you begin to doze. You nod off repeatedly, all the while Fives giggles to himself at your adorable attempts to stay awake. He turns his head to look at your sleeping face and plants a small kiss on your temple. He flexes, stretching his legs, and carefully lifts you off his shoulder to lay you down without waking you. He turns the holo-film off as the credits roll and gets up to bring the popcorn bowl into the kitchen. 

He returns to bed and crawls in next to you, spooning your back tightly against his chest and draping an arm across your stomach. He breathes deeply, inhaling the faint scent of your gardenia and jasmine shampoo before snuggling in for the night. But, just as he gets comfortable, you shift under his arm. He shifts with you and readjusts. A couple minutes later, you shift again. He sighs and repositions himself to accommodate you. The third time you squirm is when he breaks the silence.

“What’s the matter?” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Do you smell that?” you ask as you scrunch your nose. You can smell a putrid odor in the air, but you can’t figure out where it’s coming from. 

“Smell what?” Fives takes a whiff, but all he can smell is your shampoo and maybe something else mixed in with it.

“That smell,” you answer in annoyance as you roll out of his arm’s hold and onto your back. “You don’t smell it?”

“I don’t smell anything but you,” Fives laughs as he props himself up on his elbow. 

Your face scrunches in repulsion of his movement and you pinch your nose. “It’s you!”

“Me?!” Fives exclaims, a mix of surprise and confusion.

“When was the last time you showered?” you ask in disgust.

He blinks in bewilderment at your question. “This morning.”

“I don’t believe you,” you argue while sitting up. “You smell awful.”

“You were there,” he reminds you with a sigh. “In the shower, with me.”

You think back and realize he’s right, you both showered this morning and you’ve been together all day. You wonder what else it could be. “Deodorant?”

He sniffs his armpit to make sure. “Yeah, I put that on too.”

You both look at each other, puzzled at the weird occurrence. You think as hard as you can about where else the smell might be coming from, but you swear it's originating from Fives. You ask him to move again and he sits himself up against the pillow. Your nose is immediately assaulted by a horrendous smell and you gag in response. You turn away from him and gag again. Fives raises an eyebrow in concern at your bizarre response to his body odor.

“Why don’t I go take another shower,” he says as he gets out of bed. 

You're not sure if it will help, but you nod in between gags as he moves away from you. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not knowing what else to say. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but it seems like he’s the cause and he feels bad about it.

You lean back against your pillow and try to relax. The awful scent still lingers, but at least it’s weaker now that Fives has left. You grab his ill-scented pillow and toss it off the bed to try and get rid of the rest of the smell. You roll over on your side, away from Fives’ side of the bed, clutch the covers to your face, and begin to cry. Why you're crying, you don’t know, but you feel the need to cry anyway. At least the congestion from crying will help clog your nose and keep the stench out. 

When Fives returns from the shower, toweling dry his wet hair, he sees you laying in bed crying. He drops the towel, rushes over, and crawls onto the bed next to you. He places a tender hand on your back to let you know he is there. “Cyare, what’s wrong?” he asks with concern.

“I…” you say through coughing sobs. “I don’t know. I… I just want to stop.”

“Stop what?” he inquires, looking for any semblance or idea of what is causing you to be crying so suddenly. He visually looks you over to make sure there’s nothing externally wrong with you.

“Everything,” you cry harder and curl into a ball.

Fives is even more baffled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I don’t know!” you yell in frustration at yourself for also not knowing what you mean, and for the fact that he’s asking you questions you don’t have the answers to.

“Udesii, cyar’ika,” Fives soothes while rubbing your back. “Shh. It’s alright.”

As his hand gently circles your back, the putrid smell returns and you reach around to push his hand away to make him stop. Fives is taken aback by your rejection and recoils his hand. You turn your head to look back at him with apologetic eyes. You’re not sure why you pushed him away, but you don’t want him touching you right now. Something isn’t right. This is all wrong. Your emotions are running wild and you can’t seem to get them under control. You start crying again at your helplessness.

“Cyare…” Fives trails as he watches and listens to your insatiable distress, but there’s nothing he can do about it. If he knew what to do, he would be doing it already. There’s nothing in his training that has prepared him for whatever this is. All he can do is be here for you if you need him.  

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you say through your tears. 

“Maybe we should go see Kix in the morning,” Fives suggests.

You nod, thinking it might be a good idea to have a medic look you over. Fives brings a hand down to cup your cheek, a sweet gesture he always does when you’re feeling down, but instead of leaning into it, you slap his hand away. You put your hands over your mouth in shock at what you just did. Fives curls his lips and sighs as he flops back against the backboard in defeat. He doesn’t know what to do and you don’t know what you want him to do. Everything is confusing.  

“I’m so sorry,” you say as more tears fall. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Fives interrupts before you can berate yourself further. “I know.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you repeat as if saying it out loud will help you solve the puzzle.

“If it’s my smell bothering you,” Fives begins, his voice wavering with uncertainty, "why don’t I sleep down there, with my pillow.”

“Fives,” you begin to protest, even though you really do want him and his unbearable stench to be somewhere else.

“It’s fine, really,” Fives chuckles as he slips off the duvet and lays himself down next to the bed. “I’ve slept in worse places than our bedroom floor.”

You bury your head in your pillow as your shattering cries take over again. Fives can hear your muffled sobs and it kills him that he can’t hold you through them. You don’t know why you’re upset. It’s a terrible emotion to both want and not want your husband. It never crossed your mind. You have a playful and fun relationship, and always enjoy his company, that is, until now. You can’t wrap your head around it, but you’re hoping a good night's sleep will fix everything. 

Eventually you both fall asleep, for the first time, separately. When Fives is home, you always sleep together in some form, whether it’s backs touching, spooning, or legs intertwining, even his hand accidentally smacking your face. No matter if you're happy with or angry at each other, you never sleep without some type of contact, that is, until tonight. You both feel it, the sting of separation, but there is a part of you that just can’t bring yourself to touch him right now. 

As the early hours of dawn break, you feel a stirring in the pit of your stomach. You shift to try and alleviate it, but it only gets worse. The feeling travels up your esophagus and into the back of your throat, making you squirm in discomfort. “Fives,” you call out to him as you hold your aching stomach.

“Mhm,” he mumbles sleepily from his little blanket nest on the floor.

“I don’t feel good,” you answer as you curl yourself up a little tighter.

“What kind of ‘not feel good’?” he asks as he slowly sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” you say while jolting up and putting a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no,” Fives groans as he stumbles up off the floor to find a bucket. “Hang on!” he calls back as he scurries to the kitchen.

Your stomach muscles contract and you start to gag. “Fives!”

Fives rushes back into the bedroom with a small bucket and comes around to your side of the bed, but he’s a little too late. Your mouth fills with saliva in preparation of what’s to come and you can’t hold it in any longer. Fives dives for it, but misses by a couple inches as you vomit on the bedroom floor. He’s able to catch the end of it, while simultaneously grabbing most of your hair to hold it out of the way. You continue to vomit into the bucket until the spasms stop.

“Sorry,” you pant when you can finally speak again. Your chest hurts from the convulsions and your throat burns from regurgitating your stomach contents.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fives says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll clean it up.”

You smile lazily at him and are grateful he is there to help you, but something still doesn’t feel right. As he gets up to find some cleaning supplies you get a whiff of the same smell from last night and start gagging. Fives turns to bring the bucket back just in case and shoots you a worried look. Something is wrong with you. Something is very wrong with you. You don’t know what it is about his scent all of sudden, but it’s the most nauseating smell in the galaxy.  

“Please, get away from me,” you plead through gags while putting up a hand to signal him to stay back. “You smell so bad.”

“That’s it,” Fives sighs while rubbing his forehead. “We’re going to see Kix.” 

He leaves the bedroom to empty the bucket and comes back to clean up the floor. He places a clean bucket on the bed for you to use, trying with difficulty to respect your new boundaries. He then opens the dresser and throws on whatever he can find the quickest and tosses you one of his shirts. You grab the shirt, but it's covered in that horrific smell so you throw it at his back and it plops on the floor by his feet. He slumps his shoulders and you put your head in your hands and start to cry again. 

Fives lets out a discouraged sigh and grabs something of yours from the closet that will be comfy to wear to medbay and something you won’t mind throwing up on, just in case. He eventually finds an oversized hoodie he knows doesn’t smell like him and he tosses that to you. You smell it to be sure, and you sigh in relief as you pop it over your head. You grab the clean bucket and slowly get up from the bed, legs still wobbly from the stomach convulsions earlier.

Fives does everything in his power not to hold you steady. He reaches, but he pulls back knowing you’ll probably start vomiting again if he gets too close. He grabs the keys and your bag and opens the door to the GAR Commons hallway and waits for you to follow him. You trail after him as he leads the way to the medbay. It’s strange walking behind him and not alongside him, or holding his hand, but you quickly realize that following him was a terrible idea.

You stop and vomit into your bucket. You’re not sure where all of this is coming from, because there’s no way you have this much food in your stomach, but you don’t take the time to try and figure it out. Fives stops at the familiar sound and turns around to look at you. His eyes are compassionate. “I’m leaving a trail, aren’t I?” he asks knowingly.

You nod.

He sighs. “Why don’t you take the lead and I’ll follow you?”

You nod again and walk past him while holding your breath.

As you enter the medbay, you see Kix bustling about as he gets ready for the day. The medics always start early, but since Kix is in charge of the Common’s medbay, he has to start earlier than the other medics, which is great for the both of you. He doesn’t notice you at first, but as you both hobble awkwardly into his periphery, he catches a glimpse and stops what he’s doing. “Are you two okay?” Kix asks as he checks the time and looks at your fatigued states.

“I think I’m sick,” you answer while clutching your bucket. 

“I can see that,” Kix says as he notices the bucket you're holding and glances at Fives suspiciously standing a good distance away. “Come on, let me take a look at you.” He gestures with his head for you to follow him to one of the exam rooms. 

You both sit down, on opposite sides of the room, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Kix. He can already tell something is amiss. He sits down backwards on the rolling medical stool and crosses his arms over the seat back. He looks at you, sitting closest to the door, and then swivels the chair to look at Fives sitting in the opposite corner. “So, tell me what’s going on,” Kix asks as he swivels back to look at you.

“It started last night,” you begin to explain. “We were watching a holo-film, ate some popcorn, and then went to sleep. But, suddenly, I started smelling this weird smell and it made me super nauseous. But the weird thing is that the smell was coming from Fives.”

Kix raises an eyebrow at your last comment and looks over at Fives who’s sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, foot tapping rapidly on the floor. Kix can only describe the expression on the ARC trooper’s face as a mix between confused, concerned, and annoyed.  

Feeling Kix’s stare burning a hole in his skull, Fives adds to your comment about his odor. “Then, I took a shower thinking that would fix the smell issue.”

“Did you use soap?” Kix asks blankly.

“Yes, I used soap,” Fives answers with an unamused huff. “But she still said I smelled.”

Kix narrows his eyes and looks back and forth between the two of you, but doesn’t say anything about what he’s thinking yet.

“Then I woke up this morning feeling like I was going to vomit,” you continue on with the timeline of events. 

“Yeah,” Fives interjects with a small laugh. “And she missed the bucket too.”

“Shut up, Fives!” you exclaim in frustration at his irritating laughter. His penetrating voice grates against your eardrums, so you rub them to try and get some relief. None of this is funny to you and you don’t understand how he could be laughing so flippantly about it. Something is seriously wrong with you and his perceivable apathy is making you furious.

Fives’ mouth drops open in shock at your uncharacteristic outburst, but Kix just snorts at it. Your overreaction is the last piece of information he needs to connect a few dots that have been rolling around in his head since you got there.

“What are you smiling at?” you exclaim at Kix with annoyance. You wonder why everyone all of sudden thinks you’re suffering is a joke.

“I think I know what your problem is,” Kix chuckles as he pushes his feet to the floor and rolls his chair backwards to one of the drawers. He pulls the drawer open, grabs a small box, and slowly wheels himself back over to hand it to you.

You look at the box and your eyes widen. “You’re joking?”

“Afraid not,” Kix grins while placing his chin in his palm. “You have most of the early stage symptoms.”

“What?” Fives asks nervously, completely oblivious to the contents of the box as he cranes to look from his position across the room. “What is it? What does she have?”

You let out a heavy sigh at Fives’ pestering questions and toss the small box to him with an exasperated shake of your head. 

He examines the box and gives Kix a puzzled look. “This is a pregnancy test.”

“So, you can read,” Kix says sarcastically. 

“How did that happen?!” Fives wonders in shock. 

“If I have to explain it to you, then you probably shouldn't be having sex,” Kix answers bluntly.

You place your head in your hands in defeat and let out a small squeal of irritation. How in the world did you end up with this idiot for a husband? What was it that you saw in him that made him so appealing? At this point, he has as much appeal as a bantha’s backside, and that’s being generous. This changes everything. You can’t be pregnant, can you? Your life has been perfect up until now. You don’t need anything else to make you happy.

“I know how it happens,” Fives retorts with an eye roll. “I’m just surprised that it did happen.”

“Contraception isn’t one hundred percent effective,” Kix explains. “Abstinence is, but we both know you don’t have any of that.”

“Does it even matter?” you interrupt their annoying banter, about ready to smack them both. You’re not sure where all the agitation is suddenly coming from, but your fuse is wearing thin. You get up and walk over to Fives. “Give me that.” You swipe the box back from him and go to the nearest refresher to take the test. 

“So, how did you know?” Fives asks after you leave the exam room and close the door behind you.

“Easy,” Kix answers with a shoulder shrug. “The hormone changes during the first trimester can be drastic, including morning sickness, food cravings, breast tenderness, irritability, heightened sense of smell, and in rare cases an aversion to the father.”

“She has at least four of those,” Fives notes while listening intently.

“The others will come eventually,” Kix explains further. As a medic, pregnancy is not what he is trained for, but he can never be too knowledgeable about these types of things, considering the amount of men he has to look after. One of them was bound to have a baby at some point in his medical career.

“Is she really not going to like me anymore?” Fives asks nervously, still thinking about the list of hormonal changes Kix mentioned.

“Eh,” Kix scratches his head, trying to be realistic and honest. “More like she’s going to hate your guts, if this morning’s events are any indication.”

“Hate?” Fives questions with concern. “How long is that going to last?”

“Could be just the first trimester,” Kix begins while thinking out loud. “Or the full 280 rotations.”

“280 rotations!” Fives exclaims. “What am I supposed to do during all that time?”

“I don’t know,” Kix says. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

“Can’t you give her something for it?” Fives frantically asks as he goes into panic mode.

“Yeah,” Kix says sarcastically. “Vitamins and prenatal supplements.”

“No, not that,” Fives corrects while waving his hands. “I mean for the hormonal changes.”

“You want me to give her something to change her pregnancy hormones to non-pregnancy hormones?” Kix clarifies with a raised eyebrow. “Fives, I know you can be clueless at times, but that’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“But, how am I going to survive this?” Fives asks, desperate for guidance. “She can’t even stand the way I smell.”

“Again,” Kix repeats. “My only concern is mother and baby, not your identity crisis.”

“C’mon, Kix,” Fives pleads. “You gotta help me.”

“Get a therapist,” Kix advises bluntly. 

Fives and Kix’s conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you swing open the door to the exam room. Fives sees you crying and isn’t sure if they are happy tears, sad tears, or angry tears, but he’s bracing for all the possibilities. You look at Fives, smile, and nod your head to let him know that the test is indeed positive. You are pregnant. You are going to be a mother and Fives is going to be a father. You feel an overwhelming sense of joy at the prospect and can’t stop smiling.

“Congratulations,” Kix says with an ear-to-ear grin. “You're going to be parents.”

Fives takes a deep breath as his heart beats rapidly in his chest. Him, a father? A parent? He doesn’t even know what a parent is, let alone how to be one. All at once, the issues of last night and this morning seem to melt away as he’s now flooded with anxious thoughts about what the rest of your lives will look like. Will he be a good father? How does one take care of a baby? He’s a soldier. He isn’t bred for this sort of thing. It’s not part of his genetic make-up.

Rex is good with kids, but him? He is the most awkward person alive when he gets around kids. Most of the other clone troopers seem to be naturals, always knowing what to say, what to do, and just fun to be around. He, on the other hand, makes children cry. Echo too. Maybe his batch got messed up during the cloning process. Maybe the rest of Domino Squad was terrible with kids and he just didn’t know it since his original batchmates have long since departed. 

You cock your head at your husband's silence as his brain short circuits from the news. “Fives?” you prod to try and get a response. He hasn’t moved or said anything since you came back into the room, so you’re not sure what his thoughts are. What if he doesn’t want to be a father? What if he doesn’t want a baby? What if he doesn’t want you anymore? The destructive thoughts wash over you in waves as your anxiety increases while awaiting his response.

Kix, seeing the dazed look in Fives’ eyes and your nervous expression, picks up a tongue depressor off the counter and throws it at Fives’ face. It bounces off his cheek and he slowly looks up at the two of you. Finally realizing he is not alone with his thoughts, he snaps out of his swirling haze and sees your worried face. The affection and protectiveness he feels for you, his now pregnant wife, begins to overwhelm all his senses. 

Fives shoots up from his seat, rushes over to you, and pulls you against his chest. He squeezes you tightly and presses adoring kisses against the top of your head. “We’re going to be parents,” he whispers against your hair, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile.

“Yeah,” you mumble into his chest as fresh tears of joy roll down your cheeks. “We are.”

Kix watches the adorable display and sighs happily. It’s not every day a clone trooper makes a baby and he knows he’s going to have his hands full with your prenatal care. He chuckles to himself as he thinks about what the rest of the pregnancy is going to look like and if Fives will be able to survive it. However, something is nagging at the back of his mind and he can’t quite put his finger on it. But then his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of you retching. Oh, yeah.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize to Kix. You are mortified at what you just did. It was so involuntary that you didn’t have any time to find somewhere else to let it all out.

Kix shakes his head and sighs as he gets up from the medical stool. “Don’t worry. I’ll get an orderly to clean it up.”

“Can you get me something to wear while you’re at it?” Fives requests as he looks down at his vomit-covered clothes. 

“Might as well get used to it now,” Kix waves dismissively as he leaves the room.

“Sorry,” you apologize again while looking up at him in embarrassment. “I forgot how bad you smell.”

“This is going to be a long 280 rotations,” Fives sighs while pulling off his soiled shirt.

“It might get better, right?” you encourage while trying to offer some optimism into the bleak situation.

“I hope so,” Fives agrees, but he has a sinking feeling it won’t be that easy.

Chapter 1

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @kixs-husband

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[technovillain]

I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT BUNNY BOY (aka Augustín lmaooo-) HE LOOKS SO SILLAY-

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been wanting to share his little story for so long!!

Okay so it starts out like this. Sasha and Milla are called in for a mission when they were just about to take some time off. So they're understandably exasperated and irritated.

Luckily for them, the mission doesn't seem that complicated. Maybe they can still enjoy themselves without too much stress. They have been assigned to check out a local disturbance in a nearby suburban area. There were reports of widespread confusion, possibly of psychic origin, and Sasha and Milla have to find the source of it.

They travel to the source of where they sense the disturbance and find a backyard with the gate left open. It is full of a large number of children and one adult woman, who appears to be their mother. Every person in this backyard is extremely disoriented, to a point where it could be potentially damaging. Sasha and Milla determine that questioning these people at this time is not a good idea. It could only mess them up further. They need time before they try and interfere.

So they go out to investigate what the origin of this confusion could be. Milla notices a trail in the grass that has been singed intermittently, with patterns indicating pyrokinesis burns. They follow the trail all around the little neighborhood to the downtown area.

They entered several buildings and found almost all of them rustled and raided, and the store patrons and cashiers stunned by confusion. "Some sort of psychic thievery, I assume." Sasha says but is interrupted by Milla asking him to reconsider.

"We could be looking for someone who needs a lot of help here." Sasha sees that she is right. Only food is missing. Only candy is missing. He sees a few plastic wrappers on the ground through the glass door of the building. "Or perhaps, someone who doesn't know any better looking for trouble."

They follow the trail of wrappers and random trinkets and trash to a bus stop. It is there where they find their suspect.

They realize it's just a child. Psychic child outbursts were so touchy to handle. Especially if that was his mother that was so disoriented. They approach him regardless, and it sits up. Sasha and Milla prepare to talk to him.

But they suddenly feel the kid trying to break their mental defenses with confusion. It almost catches them off guard. But they resist it. And the kid seems surprised at this.

The two start asking him questions, and he doesn't really talk. But he sort of answers their questions through actions. He shows them the other "tricks" he can do. Like the confusion and the fire. He burns a few bugs on the sidewalk to show how it works. It seems quite pleased with itself for its fun tricks. Sasha and Milla make eye contact and realize that they're dealing with a kid who has no clue what he is doing with his psychic abilities. And this kid needs help immediately. He's potentially scrambling the minds of himself and others from prolonged confusion and needs to be trained...

They extremely reluctantly take him back to headquarters after receiving written permission from his mother, who had no clue what she was signing or even what her full name was.

Check-ins with Gusty's family were highly frequent, including mental checkups. But recovery was very slow and gradual for his town. Gusty isn't an exceptionally strong psychic, per se, but he just got away with repeated confusion over and over due to the stunning effect of the power and that was really damaging. Really, he's only good at confusion and pyro, and eventually at mental projection.

So it becomes one of the "Motherlobe babies" aka one of the few kids whose living situations become increasingly unsafe and have to be taken in to be trained and don't really have anywhere else to go for the time being. The agents take really good care of him for the time being, especially Veranda.

[clone-anon-after-dark]

So, can I get a Fives with an ace reader, the theme is up to you

Here we go!

Campfire

Fives x Asexual GN Jedi Reader

Word Count: 1199

Warnings: None really. The start of a queer platonic relationship with just a little hand holding and closeness.

A/N: I really wanted to show the start of a new relationship that isn’t going to include the usual romantic tropes. Some discussion of relationships versus attachment. Originally I wrote this for a male reader, but then realized that it doesn’t indicate the reader’s gender anywhere.

You watched the moon brighten as night overtook the planet.  Fives looked through the supplies you’d brought with you for this little scouting mission. 

“Found an ax,” he said as he walked back out of the small ship.

“Want some help,” you asked.

“I can handle it, general.” He struck a bit of a pose to make you smile.  He looked pleased when you let out a bit of a laugh.

You got serious for another moment and replied, “I told you, Fives, you don’t have to call me that out here.” 

Fives gave you a grin, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he approached a fallen tree and started cutting off large branches for some firewood and kindling.  You pulled out a pot and a packet of dehydrated soup. It wasn’t the best food, but it was better than ration bars.  Fives made a fire and you heated the food. Dinner was quiet at first, but then you spoke up.

“I don’t think I’ll be a general in this war. I certainly don’t want to lead anyone into battle.”

“Why not? You’re a Jedi.”

“There are many ways to be a Jedi.  I’m better with jobs like this. Supporting civilians.”

“You’re good at it,” Fives replied. “You’re good with people.”

“So are you.”

You smiled at him as you finished your food. You liked helping people and you didn’t like war. You were grateful to have the ARC trooper with you. Rex had given him leave to help you after Anakin found out you’d be going alone. At first you thought this mission wasn’t going to need more than one person, but after seeing how complicated the situation had gotten, it helped to have Fives’ support. He was great with the little kids who were all still reeling from the recent attack on their community.  He spent a lot of time in the makeshift hospital. As soon as he saw the children, he went in to visit, telling them stories and reading to them from a small collection of books that had been donated.  Your heart warmed when one little girl crawled into his lap while he read.  Beyond this, he communicated needs with the 501st.  They were sending in more support and were to arrive the next day. The locals needed food, medical supplies, and support in clearing debris.  It wasn’t the first time you’d worked with Fives. You’d worked with other clones before and always admired them, but there was something about Fives.  He made you feel a way that no one else had.  You had a special place in your heart for him.

You cleaned up from dinner and Fives watched the sky.  It was clear he was deep in thought.

“What is it,” you asked.

He cleared his throat and said, “I was thinking about how I…” He took a breath and stared at his hands for a moment. You’d never seen him nervous quite like this.  “I was thinking about how I care about you, but I know you’re a Jedi. You can’t be in a relationship.”

“That’s not true,” you said.

“It’s not? But isn’t love and attachment forbidden?”

You shook your head and sat next to him, scooting a little closer.  

“There are many ways to have a relationship.  I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to exploring what that might mean.”  You paused and collected your thoughts before continuing.  “With a few exceptions, we aren’t supposed to get married. Ki-Adi Mundi has multiple wives, but that’s because his species has few males. He says he’s unattached to them, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about them either.”

“So you can love but you can’t get attached. How does that work?”  Fives mouth twisted in a bit of frustration. He knew how he felt and it seemed so simple. Putting all of this into so many words felt like it could easily trap someone in a complicated mess.  You held out your hand toward his.

“Don’t offer me that if you don’t feel the same,” he said cautiously. You didn’t push. 

“I’ve always known I was different,” you stated. “I don’t feel attraction in the way that a lot of people do. I see beauty in the force, in the universe, in people, but I have never wanted sexual intimacy or anything like that. I realize that’s what some people would want.  Maybe to me this seems simple because for me it is.”  You left your hand out toward him and added, “I care about your Fives. I feel great love for you. Not being attached means that if I know I can’t control you or the future. If you were, I’d be sad, but I would know that you’re now one with the force. The force is everywhere, so we will never be without each other. Being unattached means that we are free to do our duty. Don’t mistake my lack of attachment for a lack of caring or a lack of love. I love deeply even if I don’t act on it in the way most people would.”

Fives took in all that you said. He felt a comfort in how you put it. He wasn’t sure about all the details of the force, but he often felt like his fallen brothers were watching out for him. Maybe this was the feeling of someone being one with the force and always being there.  He liked that thought. It was comforting. He reached for your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours.  He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths.  He hadn’t felt this close to anyone.

Several minutes passed and you both felt a calm come over you.  You studied his face. Little muscles that were worried now relaxed. His beautiful brown eyes grew softer. The warm light of the campfire lit up his features. You could see every bit of wear on his armor. So many battles and so many stories and yet he was always ready to help and do his job. You admired him and felt your connection grow. You hoped he understood how you felt.  

Fives looked back at you. His kind smile was accompanied by some butterflies as he looked into your eyes.  He gently squeezed your hand.  You sensed his vulnerability and wanted to comfort him.

“I like spending time with you. I like you. Let’s just see where things go. That okay?”

He nodded.  “More than okay.”  Then, for the first time instead of calling you general, he whispered your name. 

You were both distracted from the moment when you heard a battle droid’s voice from the edge of town. You drew your lightsaber and he had his blaster out, each wanting to protect the other.  You walked around the ship, but put your weapons away with a sigh as it was revealed that the noise was simply a group of stray tookas play fighting on top of a pair of halved droids. You let out a sigh and returned to the fire together.

You sat shoulder to shoulder and he put an arm around you. You briefly rested your head on his shoulder before reaching for his hand and watching the stars.

Tagging: @dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @staycalmandhugaclone

[acourtofthought]

It must be super lonely to be elain in the story right now. No one exerts any effort to really include her in things, feyre straight up said she doesn't see doing things with her, no one in the ic goes out of their way to hang out with her (which also makes elriel that much goofier to me because if they liked each other so much why wouldn't they attempt to be friends or spend any amount of time with each other, which no one would have objected to) my memory is a lil rusty but it really just sounds like she's off doing her own thing and helping the locals. she's trying her best to fit in but even cassian states that this place just isn't for her. I can't wait for her to get out of that place for real.

I completely agree with your point about Elain and Az not spending time together.

If Elain has feelings for Az and Az has feelings for Elain and Lucien is rarely around, why didn't they hanging out more? Why didn't Az help her to acclimate to life in the NC after she experienced her first war? We know Cassian wanted to be there for Nesta but Nesta pushed him away so it's a bit selfish that Az avoided Elain because he can't stand her mating bond when (to me) a true MMC love interest would put aside his own issues in order to be there for her. He'd be willing to suffer in order to make sure she's doing ok especially when, if he's any kind of male love interest at all (especially one living in the same court as her), he would realize she's bothered by Nesta's absence. Or he should know that if he's paying attention to her.

We know Lucien keeps his distance out of respect for what Elain wants (which is to not to interact with him right now, just as Nesta didn't want to interact with Cassian).

But Elain seemed fairly receptive to Az's company. So......what is Az's excuse? "I can't stand her bond" is not a good one because it shows he's more worried about himself than what she might need.

I do wonder how truly lonely she feels. I can't figure out if she's internally drowning because she's trying so hard to fit in and it's just not working (for herself or the others) or whether she's still convincing herself that she's fine. The NC is fine. Everything is fine.

Her POV will be fascinating to me because Elain seems to hold so much inside and we'll just never truly know her without it. Even her returning Az's necklace, was she furious? Was she disappointed? Did she realize after the fact she really wasn't that bothered? Her reactions are so controlled (even her fights with Nesta consisted of very direct points without us getting much on how she really felt about it all) and it's impossible to know if she's swearing like a sailor inside her head, wanting to break down in tears or internally repeating something like "just keep swimming" so she keeps moving forward and doesn't look back. Or maybe it's a combination of those things.

And yeah, Feyre flat out saying she'll never look to Elain as more than a pleasant companion........Elain could go almost anywhere else at this point and get a better reaction from others in regards to her company than that 😂

[whiskeyswriting]

What If I Missed You?

😍pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x F!Reader

💭summary: Can two people be lucky in life and have a second chance at love after their respective spouse passed?

⚠️warning: mentions of death and grief; age gap

🎶 Song Inspiration: What If I Missed You by Jesse McCartney

📝A/N #1: This is a work of fiction. Please do not copy or post anywhere else. Feel free to like and reblog but do give credit. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. I do not own any of the photos included in this post. Photos used have been from Pinterest or Tumblr or Instagram. I also don’t own any of the characters mentioned.

📝A/N #2: While no physical description is assigned to reader, she is in a band that does covers of musicals and other songs. Reader is between 29-34.

Read Part 2

The plan was just to enjoy a getaway trip with your two favorite coworkers and best friends. It helped that running a small business together allowed you three to take the needed time away for when reality was getting to be too much.

And this time it was getting to be too much for you. Your wedding anniversary was coming up… It would have been 7 years together.

Except he passed away 3 years ago… on your 4th wedding anniversary.

You remember getting a phone call as you were about to leave to meet him for brunch. It was a case of wrong place and wrong time. Your husband was killed trying to stop a robbery at the jewelry store he was at.

The first year after his death was incredibly difficult for you, but with time and therapy, you learned how to better handle your grief. While the grief and loss would always remain, each new day it was less than the day before.

While the grief and loss would always remain, each new day it was less than the day before.

Today started as one of those days that the grief made an appearance early on. You decided to combat it by going on an early morning run.

Each mile you run down the beach, the grief slips away. Once you’re done with your run, you shed your running shorts and shoes and head to the water for a swim. It was smart of you to have your swimsuit under as the heat was making its presence none by the second.

Speaking of presence, your friends suddenly made an appearance at the beach and proclaimed it as beach day. They brought along chairs, towels and snacks.

After a few hours of getting tanned and running back to the water to swim, you’re all sitting back and relaxing when a group of loud and beautiful specimens of aviators arrive at the beach.

Emma and you decide to approach the aviator that’s sitting to ask him what is going on.

Pete, you learn is his name, explains what dogfight football is. You leave Emma talking with him, as she’s always made friends easily with anyone she meets. You head to the bar and ask to open a tab so you and your friends can start heading over in a bit.

Looking down for shells as you’re walking back with your drink in hand, you don’t see the exasperated aviator as he was leaving Pete’s side.

You walk right into him, causing your drink to spill on your top and his crisp khaki uniform.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim as you try to find somewhere to set the drinks down, accidentally spilling more on him.

His sigh tells you just how frustrated and exasperated he is. “It’s fine,” his curt voice says.

You look up, first to glance at his name tag, then to his face. “I really am sorry. Let me at least get you something to clean up as much… or let me pay for the dry cleaning.”

“No no. It’s fine. I’ll deal with it when I get back to base,” he says as he continues to walk to him car to leave.

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The next morning Emma and you are in line at the local cafe getting the coffee and baked goods for your morning of filming.

Emma is listing on her phone the possible songs you all can record that day. At the same time she's testing them to you so you can listen on your headphones to help determine if it's a good fit for the group.

Suddenly Emma nudges you and gestures with her head to the uniformed man in front of you. You can't help but admire the fine specimen in front of you... well really admiring the behind that is in front of you. You smirk at Emma and then shake your head.

Suddenly you feel a warmth at your chest. A warmth that starts to burn a little.

A gasp escapes Emma as she runs to get napkins to help clean you up.

You look to the culprit and can't help but laugh when you see one embarrassed Vice Admiral Beau Simpson.

"I'm so sorry!" He exclaims. "This week is just not my week... I'm sorry!" He turns to the barista to ask for a towel and iced water. He returns to you and hands you the towel.

"Is this how you decided to let me repay you for the beers?" You ask teasingly.

Emma looks at you suspiciously and then smirks when she sees your attempt at flirting with the distinguished Admiral.

"No! Goodness no! I would never do that on purpose!"

You put your hand on his bicep to assure him you were teasing him. "I'm okay. It happens to the best of us."

He stares at you for a moment. "At least let me buy you dinner. The spilled beers are nothing to the burn of freshly brewed coffee burns."

Before you can respond, Emma is replying for you. "Yes of course she would love that! We're staying at the mint-colored beach out not too far from the bar!" She slips him one of your contact cards. "Here's her info. She'll be ready by 7pm."

Beau just chuckles and stares as you both leave, having forgetten his coffee. He's brought back to reality when his phone rings and he sees it's Mav calling him. He groans picking up the call and making his way to the base.

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📝A/N #3: As I was writing this part, I kept getting more scenes popping up to my mind so I decided to make it into a 3 part series. Hoping to get them out in the following weeks, as I am also trying to get back to another series I'm working on.

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🏷 List: @callsign-dragonbaron @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @noirrose21-blog @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @callsignscupcake @abaker74

[fivepointpalettes]

Would you explain a little bit about how you create a palette? I really like yours and wonder if there’s a technique you would share, or if you just have a “good eye.” Thanks

Aww, thank you! :) My sincerest apologies, I have never been particularly good at explaining my ways, but I nonetheless hope this makes sense!

In terms of how I, personally, do it, I think the key to making good palettes is to keep expanding your visual library. Inspiration can be found anywhere - and this applies to any creative concept - when you're out in public (or anywhere else), make note of any colour that catches your eye, what context does it appear in, and for lack of a better phrase, what feelings does it invoke in you (if it does any at all) - or under what circumstances did you notice it? Perhaps you feel more drawn towards specific shades at different times. Look at pretty pictures, local plants, graffiti, store displays, advertisements, people's clothes, anything. Paying attention to such things can really help you build up colour associations of your own. If you do it for a while, eventually you stop having to think about it and start picking up on them subconsciously. Try to recreate them from memory, see what sticks. I wholeheartedly believe anyone can make good (and good is subjective! Every colour is someone out there's most favourite one!) palettes (even if you occasionally have to subject yourself to colour-based pavlovian conditioning to feel it)!

For palettes based on words or abstract concepts, I tend to have a general idea for the colours I want to use for a particular palette - sometimes more detailed (i.e. "this concept would be best conveyed through deeper shades, and should include beige and gold"), sometimes more general (i.e. "this palette should be bright") - before I start making it, and develop it further as I work on it. For palettes based on songs, I first listen to it once in order to develop the general idea, then read and analyse the lyrics if available, do a little research on any potential meaning behind the song, and then listen on repeat until I feel satisfied with my work on it.

Of course, the longer you do it, the more "natural" it becomes for you, too. There is a number of palettes I've made in the past which I would have done differently now due to different experiences, and sometimes the best way to gain that experience is to simply… do? Fake it till you make it, perhaps, but it's always better to do something badly than to not do it at all. And always remember that if you're not feeling it today, you can come back to fix it later.

On a final note, you really should not do this to yourself, but I, personally, feel the most in tune with my colour associations quite late at night, when I'm barely awake, so I often find myself staying up overtime, and that's why sometimes you can find me posting at 3 in the morning. That's when I tend to come up with my favourite palette titles, too! 🤭