#so I can stay informed without having a depressive spiral

[betty-bourgeoisie]

If people could tag their posts about the Israel-Palestine conflict that would be very appreciated

[skywarpie]

In the Shadow of Memories

Anyway, ao3 is down and my computer is broken, so you guys get the fic here for the time being.

Tw: nothing much except isolation, and depression. But nothing like super bad. Nsft at the end and use of sex as a vice ig

Word count: 3,758

Summary:

Copia learns he doesn't have to be alone anymore.

Longing is something that he sometimes thinks he was born with. An itch that can't be scratched, save only for the sake that no one offers to scratch it. The longing of childhood – knowing that he never fits in no matter what. How he watched the other children as he was growing up, saw how their parents doted on them. How their siblings poked fun at them. It was something he never had, even though it was no further than arms length away.

He was seven when he slowly began to piece the pieces together.

Sister Imperator, though stern, seemed to show favoritism to him. It did nothing to help his social standings.

Then he'd overheard her speaking to Nihil. Talking about how their child was not shaping up to be everything he should be. Copia had wanted to scream at them, but it would draw attention to himself, and that didn't really bode well for eavesdropping.

Shortly after he'd tried to make connections with the elder three brothers.

Primo had seemed indifferent. Kind but indifferent.

Secondo had ignored him altogether, acting like he didn't even exist. Sometimes he didn't feel like he really did.

Terzo had – well Terzo had been his last hope. They were closer in age than the other two. Sure he was nearly fifteen years his senior, but it couldn't hurt to try, right? As a result of his hopefulness, Terzo had taken advantage of every situation, doing any and everything and leaving Copia to take the blame for. He was well aware Copia would never voice his own innocence.

By age ten, he'd been reprimanded more than any other child in the ministry for crimes he wasn't responsible for. Sister's irritation had grown and Papa Nihil’s hatred had taken a dark turn. Sometimes he shut the door in Copia's face, sent him on wild goose chases, it was all too much.

It shouldn't have been any surprise when a ghoul fetched him from his lessons one morning. Informed him his things had been packed and he would be set on a train to the airport. From there, he would make his way to Rome, where he would stay for the foreseeable future.

He'd wanted to ask. Why am I being sent away? I can be better. Where is Sister Imperator? Why wasn't she taking him to the airport?

But he already knew all the answers to those questions.

He was a bother. Cumbersome in a small bubble that held the Emeritus line, something that was already fragile enough without his unannounced parenthood.

Copia remembers trying to hold the large ghoul's hand as he stood in the airport. Wanting some sort of comfort, even if it was from someone sending him away. Instead, he'd been scolded. Told he should know better at his age.

He'd retracted his hand as if burnt and boarded the plane without so much as a hug, let alone a goodbye.

—

The years slowly bleed together as time continues its endless march.

Now at the young age of twenty-six, Copia has managed to become the youngest Cardinal in the church. He should be proud of himself, happy that he's accomplished something, but he's not. Being completely abandoned by one's family tends to have that sort of effect. Since his arrival here, Sister has sent not a single letter. He should know better but it doesn't sting any less.

“Are you listening?”

Cardinal Astra's voice draws Copia from his spiraling thoughts. “Huh?”

“Where do you go, piccolo ratto?”

Astra has been nothing but Hell sent from the day Copia arrived. The man had taken him under his wing and for a short while Copia got to truly experience what it felt like to have a figurative father. Even now, he still looks over Copia. He just wishes Astra's love could heal that continued hole inside himself. Maybe if he'd been his father instead of Nihil, maybe he wouldn't feel this way.

“I – I am sorry.” Anxious eyes travel downward to settle on the stone floor. He gets lost often, something everyone is accustomed to.

Cardinal Astra smiles softly. “Working hours are over. You are free to leave this cramped office and spend time with your friends.”

Friends. That word makes him nauseous. He's never had friends. He's had acquaintances but never friends.

“Ah – ehm – apologies.” Copia jumps up quickly, collecting his paperwork. “I will leave now. I –”

Astra grabs his wrist. “Copia, you do not need to hide yourself away. We are a congregation and we take care of each other, no?”

Copia nods, knowing he will not be doing that.

–

Copia grunts as his face is pushed further into the sheets. One eye squished shut. The other is trying to remain open despite the massive hand planted on his cheek. A brother of sin mounts him from behind, hips pounding into him like a jackhammer. He should feel something – anything, Copia knows this. Yet his cock hangs limp between his legs, swaying every now and then with each thrust. Copia knows he won't cum tonight. The brother of sin is a bit too harsh for his liking, but then again, Copia hasn't ever cum during these trysts at all to begin with.

A squeak escapes him as the brother thrusts at an uncomfortable angle. Unfortunately for Copia, the man takes it as encouragement and begins pistoning his hips in that motion until he finally cuts.

Copia clamps his eyes shut tight as what should be warmth from the cum inside him is slightly uncomfortable rather than pleasurable. The man pulls out with a grunt, flopping down beside him.

“Fuck that was good.”

Well, at least someone enjoyed it.

It's not like he agrees to these things because he necessarily wants them, rather than in times of desperation for other human touch he'll take a partner to bed. Sometimes he goes to their bed. It depends on his mood at the time.

He's also found himself preferring the brothers to the sisters. The brothers are easily able to over power his lithe frame, manhandle him in any way they want. Sometimes if Copia closes his eyes he can almost imagine it's a loving hug.

But it's not and it never will be.

Copia grunts as he tries to stretch his body out. The position having left him in a cramped state. He squeaks as a hard slap meets the meat of his ass.

“For a twitchy little guy, you sure are a good lay.”

It's a joke – or rather it should be, judging by the way the man laughs breathlessly.

Copia's barely had time to pull his face from the sheets before the brother is dressing and collecting his things. He says something, but honestly Copia doesn't bother to register it. He's leaving anyway. They always leave after.

–

He grabs the towel, drying off his hair and then his body. Then he steps out of the shower, discarding the towel.

Copia wipes the condensation from the bathroom mirror. He sees – honestly, he isn't sure what he sees looking back at him.

His reflection is tired. Even without the black eye makeup. His ribs poke out just a bit too much to be considered healthy. A tired sigh leaves his lips as his gaze settles on the bruises that decorate his whole body. It's a symbol that at least for a short while someone considered him something worthy of love. Even if it was just for a quick fuck.

Copia rubs his eyes before grabbing his robe and wrapping himself in the fluffy fabric. It grounds him. Gives him something to hold onto, to prove he's real.

He makes his way to his bedroom and lies on his back on the freshly changed sheets. He stares at the ceiling. Maybe tomorrow will be another day. A better one.

It won't be, but maybe he can hope.

–

The pen scratches against the paper as he signs off on another document. By now, he's more than positive that he could sign his own name with his eyes closed. That's not really something to be proud of, so to say. But there isn't really much to be proud of when it comes to him.

“You missed breakfast.”

Cardinal Astra stands in the doorway, tray in hand.

Copia knows how lethargic he must look when he glances up. “Mi dispiace. I have been working on this.” He motions to the paperwork.

Astra purses his lips. “You also missed lunch.”

Oh please, don't do this again. Please. Please. Please.

“And it seems that you also missed dinner last night. If the ghouls are to be believed.”

Copia tries to respond but he's shushed.

“We talked about this, Copia. It is unhealthy. You must eat.”

It's not that he doesn't want to eat, so much as what has he done to deserve it? Did he finish all his paperwork? Did he answer correctly when asked questions? Is he even worth keeping around?

It's easy for him to brush it off as forgetfulness. Oh, I was so busy I forgot to eat. Silly me! It doesn't work on anyone, but then again, does anyone even care? Well, besides Astra.

“Sì. Sì. I am well aware of that.”

Is he though? If he was he wouldn't be putting himself through all this emotional and physical turmoil.

“I just – just got distracted.”

Copia sees the look he receives. Distracted enough to still be able to take a brother of sin to your bed?

Copia wilts.

Astra heaves a sigh as he comes fully into the room, shutting the door behind him.

No. No. No. This is not good.

“I had planned to tell you this over dinner last night.” He heaves another sigh. “You are leaving the abbey by the end of the month.”

Leaving? His head is spinning a mile a minute. What has he fucked up now? Why's he never able to fucking do anything right? Why – “Be-because I missed a few meals?” Copia hates the way his voice cracks.

“No.” There's a pregnant pause and Copia finds himself spiraling even more. “Your mo – Sister Imperator, requests that you return to the main abbey.”

“What?”

Astra smooths the front of his cassock. “I have no say in the matter, piccolo ratto. If I did, you'd never have to leave this place.”

He doesn't want this. He wants to stay here, in Rome. He wants –

“Sometimes He gives us obstacles that he thinks will strengthen us. Even if they seem like punishments at the time.”

It's then that Copia finally breaks down. He's being sent away as a punishment yet again.

–

The Swedish abbey is larger than he remembers. It's colder – not a surprise, and more densely populated. Albeit polite, a majority of the siblings look at him with disdain. He's a high ranking newcomer, of course they would.

The first week had been odd. Imperator doted on him as if she were a loving mother finally seeing her son again. Only one of those things was true.

She'd ensured he knew where is office was. How far away his room was. How much paperwork he was to expect and it was expected to be done.

She'd even introduced him to a gaggle of ghouls. Saying that since he ranked so highly, he required protection. Something told him it was just so she could spy on him. Copia was already a nervous man, this did nothing to help ease the issue.

It was easy to fall into a quick routine. The paperwork is really no different than what he did in Rome. It's the one familiarity in this new foreign land.

Unlike his younger self, Copia makes no effort to engage his brothers. He already knows how those interactions will end. Him with an even more broken heart and the feeling of isolation strangling him.

It still confuses him how Sister acts. When he was younger, she never even gave him a glance. Now it's like he was some sort of prodigal son returned to his home.

It made his skin crawl.

–

Slowly, Copia begins to acquaint himself with the ghouls.

Cirrus and Cumulus, the two ghoulettes seem to welcome him with open arms. Cumulus is quick to always have a firm hand on his upper arm. She'll then flash him a smile and it leaves Copia at a loss that someone else he hardly knows is aware of how to calm him. Cirrus is always first to give praise. Good boy! Oh, Cardinal, you work so hard. Take a break. It makes his head swim and he feels like he's in a fog at sea.

It doesn't take long for him to piece together that ghoul packs are female dominant. After the two of them start treating him like one, Copia notes how the other ghouls begin following the same act.

Rain is quiet. Mostly communicating through chirps and trills. He's small, not the smallest, but it's clear he's the youngest. In no time, Copia finds himself with a lap full of ghoul anytime he's in the den. It's almost comforting.

Mountain is – large. So much so that Copia has to tilt his head back to even see the ghoul's face. Not only is he the largest ghoul Copia has ever seen, but he's also the most quiet. The ghoul hardly ever makes a sound.

Swiss is…well, Copia isn't sure how to feel about Swiss. He seems feral most of the time, stalking the rooms, looking for something or someone to get into. It makes Copia uneasy and he tries to avoid him at all costs.

Dewdrop is entirely unapproachable. The ghoul hisses and spits anytime Copia is even in the same room as him. His words are just as harsh as his bite. On more than several accounts, Copia has left the room feeling like he is the size of an ant.

Then there's Aether.

The ghoul is large. Not as large as Mountain, but he's stocky. Oftentimes when in his company, Copia finds himself wondering how those large arms would feel encircled around him. How Aether could easily manhandle him into whatever situation he wants. It sends a chill down his spine and it often ends with him in his room at night, cock in hand and working himself to completion.

It's a nice change from the typical absence of arousal he's felt. But it's also frightening. What does this say about him? That he's so desperate he's gone to fantasizing about ghouls – his ghouls. It's a new feeling he's unfamiliar with and it fills him with dread. It's bad enough his habit of taking partners to bed has followed him here, but if Imperator finds out he's having feelings – let alone relations with his ghouls, well…that could be disastrous.

–

“Cardinal?”

Aether's smooth voice settles in Copia's ears like a warm hug.

“Uh – please – ehm – call me C-Copia.”

His voice wavers and he knows he has to look just as miserable as he sounds.

“Copia.”

It ignites something inside the Cardinal. The way his name rolls off Aether's tongue like honey. He wants more. He wants to hear his name said like that for the rest of his days.

“It's lunch time.”

Oh. Copia shakes himself. “Ah – thank you, but I need to finish this first.” Copia points to the stack of papers on his desk. He wears a weary smile.

“You can take time to eat. You're allotted a lunch break, right?”

“Well, uh yes but –”

“No buts.” Aether makes his way to plant both hands on Copia's desk. “You need to eat.”

Copia sighs defeatedly. “Alright. Fine. Fine.”

He lets himself be led in the direction of the cafeteria. He manages to eat half of some sort of sorry excuse for pasta. The whole while he listens to Aether speak of his packmates. How they're annoying. How he loves them even if he thinks of killing some of them sometimes.

It makes Copia sad and it must show as he begins picking at his food.

“Copia?”

“Hmm?” He doesn't look up from the plate. It feels like far too much effort.

“Is everything okay?” Aether's voice is tentative.

“Sì, just a bit distracted.” He offers a tired smile and it seeks to settle the ghoul.

“And you?”

Copia is entirely caught off guard. He's zoned out during Aether's spiel, getting lost in the lull of his voice. It's only now he realizes this part of the conversation is aimed at him.

It must show on his face and Aether takes pity, repeating the question. “I said my pack mates can be an issue, but they're still important to me. Then I asked about you.”

“What about me?”

“I asked if you felt the same way with your brothers.”

The fork makes a loud clunking noise as he drops it and it bounces on the floor. Does everyone know? Did they know long before he even did?

Copia feels bile rising in the back of his throat. Feels his eyes beginning to sting in that all too familiar way. He has to get out of here. It was a mistake even coming to the cafeteria with the ghoul. He doesn't even realize he's trembling, breathing heavily until a large hand covers his own.

“It's okay.” Aether's voice is soft. Almost as soft as his eyes. “You don't have to answer. I shouldn't have asked to begin with.”

“No, it's – it's –” Copia deflates altogether. He's so tired of pretending nothing is ever wrong. He's just …tired. “To be completely honest, I do not even think they know I exist.” The laugh that follows is meant to be relaxing, but it's self depreciating.

“What do you mean?”

Why does Aether just keep making this more and more harsh. “It is…hard to explain.” His hands move as he talks. “They are aware that I exist. They just ..eh –” he scratches his head. “I can not think of the word in this language.”

“Care.” Aether finishes for him. “They don't care?”

Copia nods. It sounds even worse when it's said out loud. It sounds even more crushing.

“That's okay. You don't need them. You got us, and me.”

Aether winks at Copia as he squeezes his hand. He wants to shout, exclaim how it's so nice to finally maybe feel like a person. But it doesn't keep the question between them from hanging in the air.

But for how long?

–

Months eventually turn into a year and Copia has made a semi comfortable life for himself here. Each day he eats most of his meals with Aether. The ghoul has made it his personal mission to ensure he eats three solid meals a day. As a result, he's picked up a couple pounds. Where once his ribs protruded, now a small paunch makes itself known.

It happens when Aether is at his apartments one night. He's helping Copia go over some numbers for the yearly budget. Who initiates it, he can't say, but be quickly finds himself sinking into the ghoul's affection.

Copia has his arms wrapped around Aether's neck, kissing him like his life depends on it. Their teeth clack together. Aether's tongue hesitantly asks entrance and Copia lets him in. As soon as his jaw is slack enough, Aether is licking into the Cardinal's mouth. A large hand on the back of his head pulls him further into the kiss until Aether is essentially tongue fucking his throat. He wants it to last but he really needs air.

They break apart, a small trail of saliva still connecting them. Copia gulps down lungfuls of air. His brain doesn't even have time to second guess itself, as Aether undresses him in a swiftness he wasn't aware the ghoul had.

It's only when he's lying naked beneath the ghoul that it dawns on him. He's actually erect this time. It knocks the air from his lungs to realize this is all because of Aether.

Their lips are on each other again, hands exploring. Copia jolts when he feels a slick finger rub over his entrance.

“It's okay. I got you.”

Copia whimpers and withers as Aether sinks a finger into him, working him open. Then adding a second and doing the same. When the ghoul pulls out, Copia scrambles to grab for him.

“Hey, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

It's accentuated as Copia feels the ghoul's cock head slip inside him. Fuck they've barely even started and he's already on the verge of blowing his load.

“Such a good boy.” Aether sinks himself deeper until he's finally bottomed out. “Taking me so well. Like you were handcrafted for me.”

He wants it to be rough and demanding, but Aether throws him for a loop when he keeps it soft and comfortable. It has his thighs shaking as he wraps his legs around Aether's waist. He makes the half-hearted attempt to match the thrusts, but he's gone already.

With a cry, Copia's back arches, sending the ghoul's cock further inside himself. He paints his own stomach with white as he cums so forcefully that he sees stars. He only barely registers when Aether cums inside him, fucking it back into him as it drips free. When he's satisfied, Aether pulls out, eliciting a pathetic whine from Copia.

Copia is still staring at the ceiling dazed when a strong hand grabs him and manhandles him over. Oh. This is new. He lets Aether position him until his head is rested comfortably on a large bicep.

The quiet is comfortable at first but quickly sours as his thoughts spin once more. He thinks he does a better job of masking his emotions than he does, but Copia knows Aether can feel the tears against his skin.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Aether tips Copia's head to look up at him. “Did I hurt you?” There's panic in his voice and Copia hates himself even more for being the cause of it.

He laughs tiredly, wiping his eyes. “No, it's not that. It's just – no one has ever stayed the night before.” He tries to laugh again but it turns into a sob.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He answers far too quickly. But he doesn't care. “It – it's just nice to feel – it's just nice to have someone stay.”

Aether shushes him and eventually their breathing evens out. Copia's eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake. Ultimately sleep wins over. It's here when he's wrapped in Aether's strong arms that for once in his life Copia feels safe.

He feels loved.

[molarbeardoc]

So I just found out that it’s pretty a popular headcanon in the fandom that DrRETRO was placed in solitary confinement/a padded cell while being blindfolded and shit

So I’m gonna TRY and include that into the story the best I can

Erm yup! Any who!!!!! Forgive me if I mess something up, I did a bit of research on this before deciding to write (and while writing) so I hope this isn’t dogshit 💔💔

Anyway enjoy! Or don’t you do you idk

Everything had gone wrong.

Everything was overwhelming despite nothing being around.

She couldn’t see.

She couldn’t move.

She could barely speak without cold and sharp metal poking her mouth.

The silence was deafening. She could hear everything and nothing at the same time.

And it scared her…

Every few blind steps she took she was met with soft, padded wall.

She felt like a caged bird, desperate to spread her wings and fly only to be met with the bars of her small enclosure.

Her breathing grew laboured as she struggled to keep calm.

What had she done to deserve this? Why was she being punished like this? She followed the rules, did what she was supposed to, and yet she was still forced to endure this cruel fate.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to lash out, but that would only extend her time. She didn’t wanna spend any longer in this plushy hell, she refused to stay longer.

She hated it here. She was innocent! Why was she being punished for something she didn’t do?! She felt a twinge of frustration itch beneath her skin, her ears flattened as she let out a guttural growl whilst leaning against the wall.

She wanted revenge, to get back at those who lied about her. She wanted them to feel the same way she did.

But how could she?

She was the one trapped within a rubber cell. She was the one stuck in pillowy prison. She was the one who had been locked away…

An overwhelming wave of emotions washed over her, drowning her within its currents. Despair, frustration, sorrow, anger, all mixed into a depressing cocktail that she was forced to drink.

Before long she found herself crying silently, weeping as each breath became more irregular than the last. But there was at least one plus…

No one would be able to see her state of weakness… At least not yet…

DrRETRO let out a groggy meow as her alarm clock went off, jerking her from her painful nightmare into the real. Time to get up already?! She swore just went to bed! Then again, staying awake would probably be the best decision for now… But GOD that constant beeping was more annoying than Poob’s party horn. If it weren’t for the fact that they were so darn friendly, she would’ve definitely done something about that now.

The katball swatted the clock with her paw, sighing as it was finally silenced. If it was broken, she’ll suffer the consequences later, for now, she was too tired to deal with it.

Rolling out of bed, she trudged to her bathroom, physically and mentally preparing herself to get ready for the long day ahead of her. She could only assume what the others would get themselves into…

Once ready, she put on her coat and grabbed an energy bar for breakfast. She had no clue what time it was, but assumed she had no time to sit down and eat. Besides, she’ll probably stop by the RedBall Diner or somewhere for a proper meal in the afternoon. She carefully descended down the machine’s spiral before approaching the elevator, humming quietly as she pressed the button and opened her snack.

Before she could even get a bite in, the doors had opened revealing an overly curious robot who smiled politely at her.

"Woah! A giant cat! My sensors are telling me a lot about you!"

"…"

"Based off the information I have received from my database you are apart of a species known as Katballs correct? Oh! And you speak a language similar to that of regular domesticated felines!"

"Mrrow…" «Uh, yeah…»

"This is wonderful! BZZT! Ah! Pardon me, a large stone man taught me that it is considered impolite to engage in conversation before introducing oneself. My name is Prototype!"

"Meow…" «Hello… Prototype…»

"Hm, I can’t properly translate your message, perhaps, if you don’t mind, I could stay with you for the time being and learn it? Or maybe you could teach me as to avoid language barriers in the near future!"

The katball stared at him, he was sickeningly sweet and clearly eager to learn, she wasn’t sure she could deal with that right now, especially after going through that horrible nightmare. Just thinking of it made her fur rise.

"Is everything alright? I am detecting an elevated heart rate and body temperature. Was my request too strange? I apologize for intruding! I’m just so excited!"

"Meoww…" «No you’re fine. Ah wait, you can’t understand me… Oh well.»

She signalled to the robot that it was okay with her paws, nodding as she stepped into the elevator and sighed.

"Ah… So is that a yes..? Everything is alright?"

She nodded.

"Does this mean I can stay with you for now?"

She hesitated before reluctantly nodding.

"WONDERFUL-! Oh sorry! I did not mean to shout. I was also told that shouting is impolite!"

She already regretted her decision…

The two ascended together within the elevator, Retro eating her energy bar and Prototype watching her with intrigue.

"Is this what your species eat for nutrition?"

She shrugged.

"So it varies? That’s so interesting!"

While he was a bit more active than the others, she found their enthusiasm adorable in an annoying way.

"Does this imply katballs do not have the same carnivorous diet as domesticated felines? Would this not make you omnivorous?"

He asked a LOT of questions though…

Before she could properly answer, the elevator came to a stop, letting out its iconic ding as the doors opened, before she knew it, an exhausted lamp stepped onto the elevator along with his sickly friend.

"W04H! h3llo R3tR0!!! :D"

"Good morning…"

The doctor only gave the two a curt nod, she knew that Lampert would possibly try and pester her about Infected, per usual, but as she mentally prepared herself for his questions, Prototype had spoken up.

"Oh! Are you also a robot? You seem to be artificially made! Just like me!"

"What-"

"My scanners are so far confirming my theory as well!"

"Don’t do that.."

"Huh? May I be mistaken? Are you not artificially made?"

"I am, but I don’t appreciate being scanned. It’s weird to do that without at least asking first."

"So would it be considered… impolite?"

"Uh yeah I guess."

"It seems I have many things to learn about the mannerisms of this elevator and its riders. I apologize for my impoliteness. I should have asked."

"It’s fine. Anyway… DrRETRO-"

"Meoww." «If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, I already told you there’s nothing else I can do.»

"You didn’t even let me finish."

"Mrrw.." «You’re very predictable.»

"You’re rather growly today…"

Lampert was tempted to question her, but didn’t bother pushing his luck. There weren’t a lot of things he knew about Retro but he knew enough to know not to press her buttons. So instead, he sat quietly, listening as Prototype and Infected interacted with each other.

"s0 y0u’r3 l1k3… 4 r0b0t??? y0u’r3 n0t g0nn4 try 4nd t4k3 0v3r th3 w0rld r1ght?!?!?!?!!!!"

"Uh no, I don’t think so. I don’t understand why you would think that. I want to learn about the world! Not conquer it!"

"0H!!!! th4t’s s0 sw4g br0!!! XD"

"I don’t understand this terminology, however I am assuming ‘swag’ is a good thing right?"

"h3ck y34h m4n!!! y0u’r3 4ctu4lly 4lr1ght!!! :]"

"Thank you!"

Lampert glanced back at DrRETRO, watching her quietly from the corner of his eye. She was staring at blankly ahead, her expression was difficult to read but he could tell something was troubling her. As he opened his mouth to speak, he was harshly stopped before her could even get anything out.

"Hisss…" «Lampert… Don’t…»

"Well excuse me for wanting to ask if you’re okay."

"Mrrraow.." «It’s none of your business.»

"You’re acting like a cornered lion. I think making sure you don’t lash out at anyone is my business."

That was most definitely poor wording, he swore he saw her flinch before snapping her gaze towards him. He noticed the slight pinkish tint in her pupils, growing nervous, anyone could tell you what that meant…

"HISS?!" «ARE YOU CALLING ME A THREAT?!»

"Wh- N-No! I was just making an analogy. Not trying to offend you."

He took a step back. By now Infected and Prototype had stopped talking and were instead watching the two with questioning or concerned expressions.

"… Meoww…" «Just stay out of it..»

He nodded, watching the pinkish tint die from her eyes as she looked away. An uncomfortable silence filled the elevator before being disrupted by its doors opening.

"Ah… This is our floor, come on Infected."

"1c3 cr34m f0r br34kf4st!!! s0 epik!!! >:D"

DrRETRO watched as they stepped out, being left alone with the curious robot as the doors closed.

"… Are you okay..?"

She nodded.

"But-"

She let out a warning hiss, glaring down at him with annoyance. He may have not understood her tongue, but he understood that hissing typically meant anger or annoyance within cats.

"Okay… My apologies for pestering.."

The elevator was filled once more with heavy silence. As they stopped at floors, prototype would either enthusiastically greet people or watch DrRETRO do her work. He had no clue that she was skilled in the medical field. Perhaps he should’ve done a deeper examination of her. Perhaps he should do it now. But it’s impolite to do so without asking… He’ll just ask now!

"Uh… DrRETRO? That is your name right?"

She turned towards him.

"I was wondering if you could allow me to scan you one more time? Just to add some extra information to my database!"

She stared for a moment before nodding, though she relaxed slightly as she noticed his excitement.

"Thank you!"

There was a lot he had missed about her now that he took a deeper look. She was Brazilian and had a medical license! How interesting! Her birthday is in October, specifically the 10th of October.

"I’ll have to get something for your birthday!"

She shrugged in response.

As he continued, he found some… questionable information. A warrant for arrest. Perhaps she could answer a few questions of his.

"Excuse me? Were you perhaps arrested in the pa-"

Before he could finish, she let out a hiss.

"Huh-? What’s wrong? Is that an uncomfortable subject?"

She snarled, tail lashing as she glared at him.

"I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be intrusive!"

She snorted, turning away from him. Guess that meant leave her alone for now…

As they progressed, he watched her quietly and subtly. They had eventually made it to his floor of which he gave a small goodbye and left without another word.

DrRETRO was left alone, and she was pretty glad that. She just wanted to get her rounds done and go home, maybe even take a small nap. Who knows?

As she continued to ascend, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease and fear. She felt like she was being watched, as if something were going to happen. She felt vulnerable and she hated it…

Each floor she stopped at, each person she treated, she felt worse and worse. Her fur had begun to rise as she rode the elevator, nothing she did could distract herself from that nightmare. Maybe she just needed someone to hang out with, just talk to! Yeah! That could help..

As she reached out to press the button to pick a floor, the elevator stopped, its doors opening to reveal a familiar caterpillar holding a small bag of apples.

"Oh… Hello!"

Pilby gave her a nervous smile, waving with one of their arms before stepping onto the elevator.

"Meowww." «Hello Pilbert."

"How are you, doctor?"

"Meow." «I’m fine as usual.»

"That’s nice! Have you been doing your rounds?"

"Mrrow." «Just finished.»

"That’s good! Where are you going now?"

"Mew…" «I was going to go see Mach..»

"Golly! Is something wrong?"

"Miau." «Just… wanted someone to talk to.»

"I get that. Mach is a great listener! But gosh, if you’ve got a problem she’ll sniff it out faster than Wallter can drink a can of grey stuff! I wonder what’s in those cans anyway… I don’t see the appeal but everyone’s got their own taste, right?"

"Meow." «True.»

Pilby nodded, falling quiet as they hummed quietly to themselves. It was rather ironic, DrRETRO was the one stressing out and panicking internally while Pilby wasn’t as much as a nervous wreck as they usually were. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the feline was aboard as well, they had gotten used to being around her after all, she typically defended them from Gnarpy when xe got aggressive or Bive when she went on her rants and rambles.

As the elevator dinged and its doors opened, the two looked outside at the floor, though Pilby was the first to exit.

"Mew…?" «What’s this..?"

"Mach’s office."

"Mrrrew?" «Since when did she get an office?»

"She’s always had an office!"

DrRETRO followed after them, the doors closing behind her as she remained quiet and glanced around. She tilted her head as she stared at the pedestals, confused by what she saw. There so many strange objects, most of which glowed. Did she like glowy things? Was she part moth or something? At least she knows the qualifications to meet to get her gift in the future; make sure it glows.

"Meoww..?" «So uhm… Where is she?»

"Probably up- Oh there she is!"

The doctor looked up, staring at the deity who watched them from, as it was called beneath the window, the living quarters. It was ominous in a way, her top-hat left a shadow on her face as he red eyes glowed dimly, her face was its usual neutral expression as she gripped her hammer in her hands.

Retro swore her heart had skipped a beat for a moment, it truly was terrifying, even though she knew she had nothing to fear. She gave a small wave, forcing a nervous smile as Mach repeated the action. Within a blink of an eye she appeared in front of the two, staring down at them as she tilted her hat upwards.

"Hello."

"Meow." «Hi..»

"Hi Mach! Uh… I got you a snack from the shop!"

"Thank you Pilby, sit it on my desk for now."

The caterpillar nodded, hurrying over with the bag and placing a bag of mini donuts on her desk before leaving the two alone. To be honest, the feline would’ve preferred if they stayed, she’d prefer more than just one other person around. It’d make her feel a bit safer and less exposed. Her tail lashed as she lifted her ears, forcing her fur to lie flat for the time being.

"What’s wrong?"

DrRETRO was jerked back to reality as Mach spoke, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side as she questioned her.

"Meow! Mrrow." «Nothing! I was just bored and wanted to just talk with you.»

"Are you sure?"

"Mew.." «Yes..»

"Are you lying?"

"Mrraow!" «No!»

"Alright. What do you wanna talk about?"

"…"

"Mw.." «I didn’t think this far ahead..»

"Tsh.."

Mach couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, sitting in her swivel chair as Retro sat on the crates.

"Seriously?"

"Miauuu." «You try thinking of topics on short notice.»

"I will. Here’s your first one: seen that stupid rock recently?"

"Mew… Meoww mow merow." «Okay firstly, screw you… Secondly, surprisingly no. I thought that it’d be bothering me eventually today.»

"Hopefully it’s gone for good. I hated it, really annoying honestly.."

"Meow! Mrrw…" «Yeah! Plus it makes my job harder, if you only knew the amount of burn scars I’ve had to treat…»

"I can only imagine.."

DrRETRO purred, feeling better from before as she forgot of her early morning reminder of the past.

"Meow! Meew." «Oh! Met some new robot today.»

"A new robot?"

"Meowww. Merrw mwww." «Yep. Called himself Prototype. Very sweet actually, just way too impulsive as well as asking a lot of questions.»

"What, did he bother you?"

"Mrraw." «No. Not really. Not on purpose at least.»

"What do you mean not on purpose?"

"Meow." «It’s nothing don’t worry about it."

"That just makes me worry more..."

"Mrrw." «Aw, you really do care.»

"Retro.."

"Meow?! Mrroww?" «What?! I can’t joke anymore?»

"Is something bothering you?"

"Mew.." «As I said before, don’t worry about it..»

"Doctor RETRO Katball…"

"Maow…" «Uh oh full name…»

"What’s wrong?"

"Meow." «Nothing.»

"I know you’re lying and I swear I will use the hammer on you if you don’t fess up.."

"Mrrew." «Such an empty threat.»

She purred quietly before falling silent as she saw Mach grip her hammer tightly.

"How much are you betting?"

"…"

"Exactly."

"Meeow…" «Really, darling, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m fine…»

"The last time you said you were fine you collapsed on the floor from exhaustion while coughing and dry heaving."

"Meow.." «Well I was fine until then..»

"You had a fever and stayed hunched over the toilet for the next two hours!"

"Mrrow." «It was certainly an unpleasant experience…»

"Retro…"

"Meow?" «What?»

"I’m being serious about this. What’s wrong?"

"Mrraow." «You wouldn’t understand.»

She shrugged, trying to push down the swelling emotions in her chest. Unfortunately for her, Mach was persistent, gently cupping her cheeks with cold hands. Perhaps she should’ve heeded Pilby’s warning from earlier…

"Then help me understand…"

The katball pause, placing her own paws against Mach’s hands as she held her gaze. Even with her neutral and cold expression, she could still see the concern that glittered within her eyes.She let out a shaky breath, swallowing hard as she struggled to find the words.

Since when was talking about your problems so difficult?!

"It’s okay. Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready…"

"…"

"Mrrow…" «I… had a uhm… dream, well nightmare, last night. And it’s… It’s been bugging me all day…»

"What happened in it?"

"Meow… Mrrowww Miau." «Just… Uh… Reminded me of prison ya know? Just kind of… relived one of the worst moments of my life."

"Oh, Retro…"

"Mrrw! Mreow…" «I mean at least it’s over! Don’t understand why I’m worrying over it so much…»

Mach stared at her, her concern growing as she went on. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend how the katball felt right now. She had never been herself but she imagined it was a traumatic experience.

She sighed before pulling her close, holding her tightly as she took a deep breath.

"I know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of it. Just know, if you ever need anything, I’ll be here…"

The katball fell quiet, her ears flattening as she took the time to process her words. She let out a shaky sigh, her grip onto the other tightening as tears slowly streamed down her face.

Mach continued to hold her, gently caressing the doctor’s head and back as she tried to comfort her to the best of her ability.

"Mrraoh…" «Sorry for bothering you with my issues while being a giant crybaby...»

"Don’t apologize. Cry all you want, you’re not bothering me…"

"Miauu…" «Okay…»

She fell quiet, tears continuing to flow as she trembled slightly. Despite her earlier feelings of vulnerability and fear, she felt safe at the moment. She felt as if nothing could harm her, not here at least. She liked that..

"Mrrow?" «Mach?»

"Mhm?"

"Mew…" «Thank you…»

"Don’t worry about it.."

RAHHHHH YURI!!!!!!

I started falling asleep (it is 3:30 am here) towards the end so sorry for any mistakes and stuff I’ll fix them when my brains not silly and thinking of croissants. Hope you enjoyed Schmiles

[bl0w-m3]

hey

I have a question about microdosing. can you give me some information? So how much you take, how it has changed you, is it a kind of rush or just peace in your head? I'm also thinking about starting it, but my previous LSD experiences were only at parties and in very high doses.

I would be happy if you answered <3

Hi babes!!!

I’m happy to answer any and all questions you have, but before we start I want to say I’m not promoting drug use for people who haven’t done the research!!! Psychotics are not for everybody and you have to be safe! Always test your drugs and dose accordingly!

I started off with mushrooms a few years ago just for fun and quickly found out they were much more than I was expecting. Much like LSD you get visual if you does enough (usually 2-3 + grams for visuals, .3-1 grams for microdosing) and that was fun, but it’s the sensations you get that make this such a wonderful option for depression and other mental health disorders. I call it “planet mushroom” but in no way is that a specific term, but i describe it as feeling as if you are living on a different planet where everything I’d the way it should be. Colors are more saturated, your senses are heightens in a way that’s not anxiety inducing, a feeling of content and calm just washed over, mixed with euphoria of just being alive and experiencing the beautiful world around you. Blankets seem softer, food tastes better, you want to tell the people in your life you love them, you want to love yourself.

You process thoughts in a completely different way. It completely reorganized how I thought of myself, how I thought about my position in life, helped me realize how to stay calm and get through hard situations because unfortunately, when you do go a little downhill on mushrooms it’s can spiral, but it’s never a suicidal spiral for me. It’s more of a universal callout, Mother Nature saying “this is fucked up and you need to get your shit together and you need to let that sink in”. They will make you want to be the best version of yourself. They are also almost like a caffeine boost, even in very small amounts. They wake you up, make you feel motivated and ready to do everything from go to work to the gym to laundry.

For me it’s caused a complete 180 in my patterns of thinking, me opinions of myself, my motivation, my everything. I personally have ocd that it kicks off the fucking map for hours sometimes.

I would like to say again, please nobody just jump into this by yourself without doing proper research. For beggining I always recommend the documentary “how to change your mind”, which in the US can be found on Netflix. There are also many studies online and ones being done at hospitals around the country/world! Be safe! Get better! Be you!!

[torn-butterfly-wings]

Muse Profile: Vinsmoke Sora

Vinsmoke Sora is the loving mother of the Vinsmoke Siblings and Blackleg Sanji.

Age (headcanon bases): 28 (when she "died"). 40 (Pre-Time Skip), 42 (Post-Time Skip)

Gender: Woman

Orientation: Bi (she just doesn't know it yet)

My rendition of Sora is a canon-adjacent AU. I am keeping her life the same as canon up until the day of her death. This is where she veers off from canon.

AU Bio:

Angry about Sora’s betrayal against his work, Judge began working on a reversal of the toxin that Sora used. He finally crafted the way to save her but giving it to her put her into a coma. With her no longer there to at least somewhat reign in Judge’s cruelty, Sanji was locked away and believed to be dead by the whole of Germa.

The coma held Sora for almost a year. By the time she had awoken, Sanji had already escaped Germa. Sora was informed her sunflower had died and shown just how much darkness had consumed her other little ones. This sent the woman, still weak from her medical ordeal, into a depressive spiral. With Germa all believing the news Sora was dead, Judge was free to lock her away and keep her for his own selfish heart.

Trapped like a lovely bird in a gilded cage, Sora was kept in a small suite for many years. It consisted of a bedroom, a sunroom and a bathroom. There was a door that lead to a small garden that was walled off from the rest of Germa. Beautiful and gaudy, this was her prison for years to come. Only three people were allowed to visit. One of course was Judge. The other two were Sora’s personal chef and a doctor that would help her with her condition.

Deeds do not come without a price. The toxin had nearly killed her and had done irreparable damage along the way. The antidote was no better. Yes, Sora was alive and not dying anymore, but at a price.

Judge’s doctors have yet find a name for the condition but Sora doesn’t care. She knows she’s sick. The toxin left her with chronic fatigue where the simplest of tasks could leave her exhausted and trembling from exertion. She has a bad cough that leaves her winded and her ribs aching. Though technically she can walk, Sora’s legs were left impossibly weak. She cannot stand for more than a few minutes and can only walk a foot or two before collapsing. Too much activity will leave her bedridden for a day with bone-deep exhaustion. She spends most of her day in a wheelchair to allow her mobility despite her ailments.

This is only her physical health issues. Her mental health is atrocious. She’s extremely depressed. And while she tries to stay positive, she has become a bit despondent. Sora desperately wants to see and comfort her babies. To take Reiju in her arms and tell her how strong she is. To take her soulless sons in her arms and pet their colorful hair, telling them she still loves them and that they're still worthy of love. Tell them that it isn’t their fault. And her greatest longing is to hold her dead child in her arms and whisper endless apologies that she could not do more to protect him. To apologize for failing as his mother. For failing as all their mother.

By the time of the pre-Time Skip era, Sora is downtrodden. She's depressed everyday and contemplates simply giving in. A decade of Judge being her own visitor has driven her to several anguish-filled breakdowns. His "affection" makes her sick to her stomach. She's so close to giving in when one day Judge returns with a present. 

He introduces her to a young woman named Cosette. She's the new head chef for the palace. She will be personally making all of Sora's meals and bringing them to Sora. Cosette for her part is horrified that the queen of the land is locked away in a room for 11 years.

The two become close and Cosette becomes Sora's connection to the outside world. She brings Sora newspapers and photos of her children that Cosette sneaks. Sora is caught between being brokenhearted and grateful. To pass the time and cling to her sanity, she begins to make scrapbooks. One for Reiju and each of her three remaining sons. She does her best to ignore and cut around the paper articles that speak of the horrors that her children have done to the world.

By the time of the Time Skip, Sora has quite a few scrapbooks. Cosette stops by to play games and bring her new books along with meals. They one day, the newspaper comes and Sora finds Sanji's wanted poster. The anguish she experiences is only outdone by the anguish when she first heard he died. Her hatred for her husband grows and festers. She hides Sanji's wanted poster away.

He became a pirate, so surely that must mean her sunflower lost his heart as well.

[persephoneandherhades]

When my wife decided she was polyamorus and wanted to have partners outside of our marriage I didn't know enough about polyamory to know the signs that would lead to our now pending divorce. (Disclaimer: true polyamory includes the consent and communication of all parties involved and is not a bad thing. I have nothing against polyamory practiced correctly or people who are truly polyamorus.) I consented to one night stands so long as she told me who, where, and when so that I could come help her if she got into any trouble. I'm protective of her and she seemed fine with this as a safety precaution and she has never been in a situation where I needed to use that information. This was all going fine until she caught feelings for someone. Before I really knew what was going on they were basically dating without calling it that. They exchanged I love you's and everything before my wife asked to be able to label the relationship dating since I had previously only agreed to casual hookups. This is the point where true polyamory is left behind. I felt like I couldn't say no or my wife would be incredibly unhappy even though I was very uncomfortable with this situation. I wanted my wife to be happy so I said yes and from that point on her other partner became the center of her life. Later it would be her other many partners, some I know about others I don't. From the time she started dating other people, I became nothing more than a glorified roommate to my own wife. We never had sex, she never wanted to hang out with me anymore, getting her to just hold my hand was a struggle. I asked for these things to change over and over and every time she promised she would and never did. I should have left but I was convinced that she still loved me like I loved her and I wanted to spend my life with her. I thought it would get better but it never did. She quickly moved from one other partner to several with a menagerie of casual hookups mixed in and all the safety precautions were chucked to the wind. She contracted HPV from one of her partners and gave it to me one of the few times we had sex. This is how I found out she hadn't been asking her hookups or partners about sti's or insisting on any kind of protection. I still have to get Pap smears every 6 months because of this HPV. Because I already had a history of depression and I am getting no emotional or physical support, I eventually start spiraling into a depressive episode. I start seeing a therapist again but I was so in denial about all of this that I don't tell her the whole story. During all this I'm telling her what a hard time I'm having and that I need her and she does nothing. As soon as I agree to go back on antidepressants, I get laid off work and loose my insurance. My mental health drops further. I can barely take care of myself much less keep our home clean. Getting up for work for my new job is a struggle. I'm exhausted all the time and I still can't sleep. It's at this point that she threatened to divorce me if I didn't start improving. Obviously all that did is make my depression even worse. It also set into motion the chain of events that led to me filing to divorce her. I remembered that I deserved to feel loved in my relationships or I didn't have to stay in them. I remembered that I deserved to be happy. I reflected on how far I had sunk and how much I had accepted even though i didnt like it or wasn't comfortable with it. I realized that she had replaced me with her other partners and just stayed with me for the stability and financial gain. I deserve better than that. So here I am. I am filing for divorce less than 3 years into my marriage. Every shred of my self confidence and worth lay is shreds at my wife's feet.

The worst part of all of this is that none of it was intentionally done to hurt me. This woman is so genuinely oblivious to the needs and feelings of others that she has been baffled that I am so hurt by her and her actions.

It would hurt less if she had done it all on purpose.

[teatimetarot-bykarma]

Realizing the reason for my anxiety CHANGED everything. If you have always struggled with anxiety, keep reading!

I've had anxiety as long as I can remember. As a child I was afraid of the dark like most kids, but to the point I slept on my parents floor until I was 11. Now knowing what I know, looking back on my childhood I used to hear voices, chatter, and music. I also had a very vivid imagination. As a kid and still to this day I have very deep and detailed conversations with "myself" or so I thought. I've always been an introvert, never had many friends; but I have been pretty content just being on my own.

Fast forward to being a teenager, I ended up getting pregnant very young at age 13. (That is a whole story in itself). Soon after that I started to have the worst anxiety I've ever experienced. I couldn't leave the house without having a panic attack. Everything I did or didn't do brought anxiety. Within a year I became a single mom. I was drowning in depression because of this, but with medication I slowly came out of that spiral. I stayed on SSRIs for a few years after that, before i decided i was sick and tired of being a zombie. So I quit cold turkey and decided I would manage my anxiety and depression with CBD oil....which worked somewhat, but i knew i didn't want to rely on a substance forever. I battled anxiety this way for a couple years. Enough so that I was able to get a job and become financially independent.

I ended up meeting my now husband at said job, and he helped my anxiety tremendously...when we were together; but he traveled for work and it was impossible for him to be my safe haven full time. I kept pushing, mostly with the help of ashwagandha. We had baby #2, 2 1/2 years later. Dealing with postpartum had brought my anxiety back worse than it had been in a long time. I NEEDED something to cope, but i refused meds as it may have ended my breastfeeding journey. So, I kept on with the ashwagandha supplement, and took it one day at a time.

I have always been a spiritual person, who believes in the afterlife, reincarnation, mediums, etc. It all was so interesting to me. I loved learning about it, and meeting people who followed the same path. I loved reading and absorbing information.

Meanwhile, I had started up my tarot business mostly on TikTok at first. In my free time, I would read books on psychic/mediumship development. I was consuming all the information I could because something I couldn't explain was drawing me in. I was just so intrigued, but I didn't know why.

Fast forward a couple months, I decided to start watching Long Island Medium. It's like it was a thought, but it wasn't my thought. It was just something I felt like I had to do. There was one episode where Theresa Caputo said "often times when I'm feeling anxious, it's a spirit trying to come through" and that was BIG to me, because I have always struggled with anxiety.

One day i was holding my baby, standing at the fridge trying to figure out what I would eat for lunch. Out of nowhere, I felt so sick to my stomach, and a wave of anxiety came over me. I had remembered what Theresa said on her show, and I did my best to embrace this feeling and calm my mind and body. The letter B came through my mind. And I said "who's B?" "Broc, Bubby." (Broc is my husband's name). I pondered for a few seconds before I realized that this presence was my husband's brother who passed in a car accident when he was 13. I said "Zachy?" "It's me. Tell Bubby I love him." And that was the moment that changed my entire life.

I want to create some space to make a tribute to Zach. He forever changed everything about my life, and introduced me to the most beautiful gift I never knew I had. Thank you Zachy, you will always be remembered and cherished in our hearts. And I want to thank you, for coming through and making light of this gift.

For the next couple weeks, every free moment I had was taken up by transforming my social media, trying to find people to practice on. Getting the word out to as many people as I could, and learning the signs of my gift so that I could better interpret these messages and use my gift to help people.

My gift comes through as signs, symbols, words, pictures, and feeling in my heart and my body. I spent so much time taking what I could from these readings, and making a list of all the signs and what they mean.

The moment I really realized, wow, this is what I am meant to do; This is my calling, was when a girl I knew from school had seen my facebook post, and decided to message me that she was interested in a reading. The first message that came through was STRONG and strange. I said "the first thing I'm seeing is strange, I'm not sure if you'll understand it but I'm seeing a woman sitting in a recliner, and paintbrushes are being run down her arms." And she said "OMG. My grandmother had OCD, so when we were kids she enjoyed it when we would run things up and down her arms."

So here I am, building what once was a tarot business into a mediumship business as well! I always knew that I had a purpose outside of working for someone else, but I never realized what it was.

Now that I know the REASON for my anxiety all these years, I can finally cope by allowing spirit to relay messages to me. I feel a great amount of relief and peace, knowing that all I have to do to calm my anxiety is listen for these signs from spirit.

I am overjoyed that I found my true calling. I find myself skipping around the house, and smiling more than I ever have.

EVERYONE has the ability to unlock this gift as well. All children are born with the ability to talk to spirit, but its quickly shut down when we are taught by society that it isn't real, or it's scary. I will be sharing all the tips and tricks that I followed myself to unlock my gift. If I can cure anxiety for ONE person, then i will die happy.

Below are links to all my social media where I am sharing my journey and how I unlocked my gift. Stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading if you've made it this far.

[cannabiscomrade]

If you’re against adoption, what would you rather see be done with kids stuck in genuinely abusive or unfavorable situations? I don’t mean ones where wanted and loved children are removed due to bigoted reasons such as poverty, racism, classism, etc. Like. Genuinely abusive situations or situations where the gestational parents don’t want/can’t handle a child and were unable to terminate the pregnancy for one reason or another. Im honestly very curious.

So to start, I would like to clarify that adoption is not currently an option we are comfortable with due to circumstances mentioned before. I did not say that I was against all adoption- however, if given stability across multiple avenues, I believe that the need for adoption overall will reduce significantly.

So what I want to be done is not feasible with the systems currently in place. Im going to try and keep my focus on adoption cases regarding abuse/neglect to stay on topic, but I apologize for wordiness because it’s a very nuanced and detailed subject.

Abortion should always be an open and available option to reduce the number of children being born into abusive and neglectful homes. When it comes to birth adoptions, a lot of gestational parents that have given up their parental rights have spoken out about how their choice was manipulated by some outside force, like poverty, lack of family/community support, or even medical professionals. They are manipulated into believing that their child would be better off without them, so the image of the unwanted child is often painted from these situations.

Multicultural, evidence-based, trauma informed parenting classes should be free and widespread to help build the foundation for community support and parenting practices that are founded in science and led by cultural leaders. Gestational parents and their partners should also not have to decide between these classes and work- which is often the case when parenting classes are available. Our system that transitions people into parenthood is not built to set parents up for success in the first place. There’s also not a strong continuation of these parenting services beyond gestational care- when a lot of abuse starts in toddlerhood and beyond because parents don’t understand how to communicate with children of different developmental stages and abilities.

Short tangent but after my experiences with postpartum depression and anxiety, P-PTSD and postpartum psychosis, I also wholeheartedly believe that this country’s lack of healthcare (specifically gestational and postpartum healthcare) sets up parents for failure by making us feel like these serious mental conditions are “baby blues”.

Our society doesn’t encourage parents to ask for help, in fact it shames them for needing a multicultural and multifaceted community at all, and leads parents into these vast echo chambers like “crunchy parenting groups” that spiral down a rabbit hole of misinformation that can lead to serious abuse/neglect. Parents are more often than not overworked and overwhelmed with the burden of capitalism, and we cannot divorce that from this conversation. Not that this excuses the behavior of abuse and neglect, but it is part of the equation because the need to be away from your children for a majority of their waking day can foster more relationship problems and a lack of communication.

If we delve deeper into this, you cannot divorce abuse from the system supposedly meant to prevent children from experiencing continued abuse and trauma at the hands of their guardians.

The Department of Child Services needs to be completely dismantled and rebuilt with a community focus on keeping families together. Secondary family placements should always be a priority when children are in an abusive situation to reduce the trauma that the child goes through. The DCS system partners with for-profit adoption organizations that largely cater to white families (and oftentimes specifically white cishet Christians) intentionally to continue the patterns of systemic abuse that children of color are still facing in the system. Foster placements also have a significant rate of abuse and neglect because the system is financially incentivized, and that is a problem that DCS (formally CPS) has always struggled with.

Not straying from DCS but corporal punishment also needs to be eliminated from the parenting lexicon, because DCS (in some US states like Arizona) trains parents/guardians on what corporal punishment is considered legal so that they can beat their children within the confines of the law. They contribute to a systemic culture of abuse by denying mandated reports from qualified reporters because of pedantic nuances like “open slaps are okay”. Our system intentionally profits off of the trauma and displacement of children and that needs to be completely overturned before children that need to be in the system can face justice.

I don’t think there’s any easy solution to this that doesn’t involve us examining severely engrained social standards of “acceptable parenting” and how parents are not supported in a capitalist society before I can feel confident that the system won’t continue to fail children.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.4)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,057 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always Warnings for this chapter: Controlling behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You ventured out of the closet timidly as the smell of fresh food being cooked downstairs hit your nostrils. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, and you grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the guest bed to wrap yourself up in. You were still bare and even though there was slim chance anyone would be looking through the window, you still felt better with it on.

Sitting down at the table, you watched Tony work. He had sent a glance your way when you padded in, the blanket dragging along the ground as you walked.

It was quiet as he worked, and you sat patiently.

When he put the plate in front of you, your mouth practically watered. Grabbing the fork, you thanked him as you were already bringing a forkful up to your mouth. He took his plate and sat next to you. You slowed down, embarrassed about how much food you had already put away before he even had sat down.

“I’ll get you set up on the streaming accounts so you can watch things,” he started to say. “And if you tell me what books you want, I can have them ordered and delivered here.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, in between bites. You were just going to let him talk; you did not want to ask any questions just yet. You were still feeling him out; you had only been around him for a handful of days before you had fallen into your heat. There was still much to know about his personality, what was expected of you.

He saw you were almost finished, and he picked up his pace to finish his plate with you. As soon as the two of you were finished, he picked up the plates. In the process, his hand brushed over yours and your hair stood on end. There was a fleeting smirk from him – he had done it on purpose, testing you. He was scenting you again and seeing how you would react and you just stared at him, still, waiting to see if he was going to do it again. He gestured for you to give him the fork and you had barely noticed you were still holding it. You held it out and his fingers brushed yours again and you bit at your cheeks.

Tony was proving to also be testing the boundaries with you.

Dropping the plates in the sink, he turned back to you, “You need to shower. So do I. Come.”

You got up obediently, holding the blanket still tight around you. You followed him upstairs into the master bathroom and your eyes widened at the large tub. There was a waterfall shower in the corner, complete with what looked like jets for a massage, and a detachable shower head too.

Tony called out as he went to one of the tall cabinets, “FRIDAY, run the jacuzzi.”

The water in the tub began running, startling you. What the hell was FRIDAY? You should not be surprised about the technology in this cabin though, it was Tony’s after all.

Tony came back with body gel, shampoo, and conditioner, a brand you did not recognize. He placed them besides the tub as you asked, “Who’s FRIDAY?”

“The AI system that runs the house,” he answered. “I need to program her to respond to simple commands from you. Lights on, lights off, run the shower, you know, simple.”

His hands were on you as you stood staring at the bath filling up. He pulled the blanket from you, tossing it onto the floor a bit away. With you bare again, his hands fell to your sides, and your breath quickened. His fingers were gentle as they traced over your skin, dipping as your body curved. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you barely held back a soft moan. His scent was clouding you and you were acutely aware you were slipping under its influence. You tried to move away as it became too much but he stopped you firmly.

“Omega, I told you that you need to shower.”

“T-that’s a bath,” you pointed out weakly.

“That it is. Fine, you need to bathe. Is that better, love?”

“But—”

“Quiet, Omega,” Tony cut in impatiently and you felt compelled to follow his order, despite the anxiousness he was igniting with all his touching. He meant to bathe with you. And you were still coming down from your heat. He could stoke the fire again and maybe that is what he wanted to do. Alphas you had heard were notorious for squeezing as much out of an Omega during their heats. “Get into the tub. Leave me room.”

Sinking into the water, you held yourself close as the water turned off, the tub full. Tony pulled his boxers off and followed you in, settling down behind you.

He was gentle, using his hands to rub away at your shoulders and down your chest. You felt calmed with him washing away the remnants of the last few days away from you. Alpha was taking care of you like he should. And you could not deny a good scalp massage was sorely needed, further relaxing you.

Tony pulled you in between his legs and you leaned back against his chest. His fingers trailed down your stomach and to the apex of your sex. Relaxation dissolving in a moment, you clenched tight, and he sensed your tension. He only slipped a single finger in between your folds instead of the two that had been sliding down. You mewled and he kissed softly at your ear. The one finger circling your clit.

“Knees up, precious,” he ordered. You did as he asked, and he added a second finger, delving deeper.

Your pussy was sensitive after the last few days, but his touch set you alight, and you shuddered against his touch. Tony hummed in approval, caressing at your nub. You began rocking your hips, trying to increase the contact. Tony tsked you, nipping at your ear and you let out a disappointed whine. He was working you back up and you were just focused on getting more. You wanted him inside you.

“There are gonna be rules and you just need to follow them. You get to stay here. With me. Safe. Loved.” His free hand came up to touch your stomach. “Hopefully become round sooner rather than later…”

“Alpha…” the thought of that sending you even further down the spiral.

His fingers entered you and he kissed at your cheek, vowing in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

<><><>

The front porch creaked, and you thumbed the page of your book, calm, thinking it was Tony coming back inside. But then there were a second pair of footsteps and hushed tones. You froze. There was a loud knock on the front door, and you sat up in alarm. Your book dropped to the floor as you got up quickly. Who was here? No one had come here in the weeks you had been here. And Tony had not told you anyone was coming. The hair on your arms was on end at potential danger.

Thankfully, the blinds were drawn on the living room window. You could not go up the stairs though because that was by the front door and the person – whoever they were – would most certainly see you since the door was open, letting the fresh air come through the screen. Tony was outside getting the boat prepped. He was going to take you out on the lake with him while he fished.

Another loud knock came, and you hesitated. The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere. And if someone was knocking… that was a good sign, right? If someone meant harm, they would not take the time to knock.

Tony had told you specifically to not answer the door though.

But… you were curious. You had not seen anyone else for weeks. Your bond tugged at you, jostling deep inside as you turned back towards the door, considering to ignore your Alpha’s direct order. The bond was warning you to be good. But…

<><><>

Outside the cabin, Carol peered in through the window, scanning the front room.

She shrugged, looking back at Natasha. “There’s no one inside that I can see from this window.”

“Well, he’s obviously here if the door is open and his car is here.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs…?” Carol said, hinting at the bedroom activities they were sure Tony would be engaging Y/N in if he had not already.

Natasha exhaled sharply, turning from the door, and going back towards the stairs. She spotted the boat house and also the large shop on the property. He could be in there as well. She sure as hell was not going to be entering his cabin without his permission for fear he had not mated Y/N yet. Or if he had mated her and Y/N was pregnant. Even if she was Beta, he would be threatened by her presence, especially without being invited.

Just as she stepped onto the gravel, she heard Carol behind her say, “Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Natasha stopped on a dime and whirled around on her heel. “Remember me?”

There she was behind the screen door. She looked healthy enough, like she had been eating and drinking enough. But she was timid, not opening the screen door. She still wanted that barrier between her and Carol.

Y/N must have answered Carol, but so quiet Natasha could not hear as she approached because Carol asked, “That’s good. I hope I’m not forgettable. Where’s Tony?”

<><><>

You eyed Natasha as she came back up onto the wrap around porch and looked back at Carol, answering, “In the boathouse. He was getting it ready to take it out for lunch.”

Noticing that both of them had stolen a glance at your exposed shoulder, you shifted uncomfortably. You knew they had been seeing if you had been mated. That was apparent in your tank top; there was no hiding the mark at the base of your neck.

They both acted unperturbed by it though, carrying on with pleasantries.

“Tony fishing. That’s something I wouldn’t expect to be happening,” Natasha chimed in, giving a small smile. “But times have changed.” She looked over her shoulder towards the boat house and she asked you, “Mind if we go out there to talk to him?”

She was… asking you for permission?

You shrugged in response, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“You wanna come with us?” Carol offered. She was trying really hard to be friendly and gentle, and you appreciated it.

But you shook your head immediately, “I’m not allowed outside without Alpha.” You had already broken one of his rules by answering the door, there was no need to press your luck.

“Even on your own property?” Natasha asked before she could stop herself it seemed.

Carol gave her a vexed look, chastising her with her eyes. Natasha cleared her throat sheepishly before tossing another look to the boathouse. You knew it was silly and what she said was right. You wanted to go outside on your own, lay down in the grass. But Tony did not completely trust you on your own yet; you feared he never would, especially if you were pregnant. That would make him all the more overprotective.

“Well, looks like I won’t have to stretch my legs,” Natasha commented, and you peered between the pair of them trying to follow her gaze. “He’s coming to us.”

You could not see him, but you could sense him, the irritation rattling your bond. He was displeased and you could think of a handful of reasons why. You had hoped they would have gone to find him before he realized they were here but there were a lot of windows on the boathouse that had a clear view of the front porch.

“Tony,” Carol called out in greeting about the time you were able to see him coming up the path.

As he came up the stairs, Tony was staring you down and you sunk back into yourself.

Natasha and Carol could sense the tension and they both took a step back away from the door and subsequently away from you. The movement did not go unnoticed by him, his eyes following their shift.

“Tony, afternoon. We were just checking in to see how it was going. You know we have to,” Natasha told him calmly.

Tony’s stare was piercing you, and you averted your eyes, not wanting to challenge him with direct eye contact. “Well, it’s apparently not going without bumps. Y/N, I told you specifically to not answer the damn door!”

“I’m sorry,” you said timidly, flinching at him swearing at you.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re supposed to do what you’re told!” He snapped his fingers, pointing back behind you and ordered, “Go make lunch. Now!”

You refrained from mentioning that you had already done that, wanting to be ready whenever he came to fetch you to go out on the water. You left the door and decided you might as well make extra sandwiches for the two women to busy yourself and be hospitable.

<><><>

When Tony turned his attention back to Natasha and Carol after Y/N had retreated back into the cabin from view, he was met with a dispassionate look from Carol but Natasha on the other hand, she looked miffed.

“Can I help you with something?” Tony asked dryly.

“We’re here to check up.”

“And?”

“And… discuss something.”

Tony wagged his finger, “There’s always a catch. Well, lay it on me. And do it quick. Y/N and I are going out on the lake for lunch.”

Carol cut right to the chase, “There’s talk about either taking samples from Omega—” That already was setting Tony on edge, that was clear as day in his expression and tense body. “To try to figure out if there can be a cure given to people who should be able to have children and can’t.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately. His tone was firm.

“Or,” Carol continued ignoring his outburst. “They want to use Omegas as surrogates.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched at that, his eyes hard.

“There’s talk of it. High up in the government,” Natasha added. “Thought we would come talk to you about it.”

“For?” Tony spat. His brow pinched a split second before he gave them a belittling laugh. “Wait, did you two think I was going to agree to this? That’s what you wanted to come ‘talk to’ me about? Giving Y/N up to the government?”

“You won’t be giving her up—”

Tony cut in forcibly, “This is not even a conversation. I don’t know what two think you’re playing at.”

Natasha countered quickly, “You always were advocating for protecting Earth.”

“And it is protected. What’s not protected here?”

“Tony.”

“What? We took a stance and we got royally railed. Bent all the way over the table. I almost died in space. Did you forget that?”

“No, I didn’t for—”

“So many people died. Just… disappeared out of existence! Blink of an eye. Well, Thanos got what he wanted and he’s dead now! Earth is going on and there are no more threats from up above. Everyone’s too busy reeling with what happened themselves on their own planets to even care about trying to come here. No, we’re doing fine. I mean, maybe the US government isn’t doing fine which is no new news there. But we are fine”

Carol tried to persuade him now, “We aren’t fine. People are grieving everywhere, and people want to be able to have children again to bring some sense of happiness into their lives and they can’t. So—"

“You’re not taking her,” Tony spat defensively.

“I’m not asking to do that,” Carol said, standing her ground despite Tony’s aggressive stance and the wild look in his eyes.

“Then what is it you’re asking?” Tony asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Cause that’s sure as hell what it sounds like.”

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility in the future—”

“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen,” Tony declared, cutting her off.

“I thought you were insufferable before,” Natasha scoffed, completely done with how quickly he had become pugnacious at the mere mention of anyone else laying a finger on Y/N.

Tony fixated his death glare on her now and sneered, “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Carol cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we’ll leave.” She almost turned but implored him once more, “Just keep that on your mind that it’s being spoken about in the government.”

“So, maybe you should do it on your own accord, Tony, before someone forces you to. Because I know how much you love being told what to do,” Natasha quipped coldly as she did begin to walk off. Carol followed her.

“Tell me. Did Cap agree to it?” Tony called out after them, taunting. Natasha and Carol both refused to answer which was answer enough and Tony let out a wry laugh. “That’s what I thought. You two are nuts.”

Natasha slammed the car door so hard, Carol was worried it was going to fall off when she tried to open it to get out. Natasha glared at Tony through the windshield. He was still standing on the porch, pacing slowly, eyes right back on her. He was making sure they were really going to leave.

Shaking her head, Carol turned the car on and said disappointed, “I thought this would be easier.”

“I didn’t. I expected to want to knock his head off his shoulders. Just like Steve. And any other Alpha we are going to talk to about it. It’s going to be futile to convince any of them to let their Omega carry another person’s child.”

“Well, let’s hope we find others that are more open. Because I don’t want this becoming a mandated thing from the government. Things will really get ugly then. I’ve read Handmaid’s Tale,” Carol sighed as she backed out of the driveway.

Tony and Natasha kept eyes on each other until Carol turned the car around and started driving back down the long driveway towards the main road.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[itsclydebitches]

Rewatching RWBY there's this chilling lack of empathy through the volumes that I used to just wave off. Yang has no empathy for Tai, Blake is just entirely about what Blake needs, Weiss almost kills a woman at a party and her takeaway is 'my dad is mean so I'm going to run away'. Qrow sinks hard into depression in vol. 6 and Ruby's reaction is to yell she's never needed him. No one has EVER helped a civilian. It's so prevelant. Knowing how 7&8 go really changes the earlier writing.

I think there was a great deal of well-written empathy in the early volumes — after all, this cast was designed as the kind, well-meaning heroes — but that care was expressed almost solely within the group itself. Ruby sits by Jaune in the hallway and says "Nope!" to his self doubt. Weiss offers Ruby a hand up after she fails to kill the death stalker. Yang seeks out Blake and gets her to open up about what's bothering her. Now, I want to emphasize that there's nothing inherently wrong with this. It actually makes perfect sense. These are our main characters and they're written as peers co-habiting the same space. Of course whatever emotional growth we get, which automatically includes moments of compassion, would be directed towards each other. Similarly, the dynamics originally introduced — that of teachers and parents — likewise (rightly) puts the burden on the adults to provide the comfort, not the other way around. Port snaps Weiss out of her arrogant mindset. Ozpin reassures Ruby about her leadership worries. Tai is there to support his daughter when she's recovering from a lost limb. That's the natural order of things, so to speak.

The problem, to my mind, begins to occur when the group exits those dynamics. They're no longer students, they're licensed huntsmen. They're no longer kids, but equals who never needed adults in the first place. They're no longer doing things for themselves and their friends on personal downtime, they're doing them for the community at large as a profession (to say nothing of the world-altering war they've insisted on shouldering responsibility for). That's what a huntsmen is meant to be, a defender of the people, not someone who uses that power for personal interests alone. All of this is a huge change from where we started out: cutesy kids going off on comparatively low-stakes adventures because one or more of their teammates are invested, only just beginning to realize that they're signing up for a job where their desires come second (that fireside conversation at Mountain Glenn).

This change invites — demands, really — that the audience read them differently too. Qrow's spiral in Volume 6 is a good example of this. If Ruby is demanding to be treated not just as an equal in terms of maturity and experience, but also as the primary leader of this group, then the viewer expects her to treat her uncle as an equal too, not dismiss his hardship. I've seen numerous fans defend that arc with some version of, "He's her uncle. He's supposed to take care of her. He's failing" but that, according to the show, is no longer the dynamic. Qrow is now just a member of Ruby's team, someone she's responsible for as their leader. It's easiest to see the problem if we switch out Qrow for any of the other members. If Blake developed a drinking problem, do we think Ruby would just shout at her until she magically got over it? If Jaune endangered the group, do we think they'd all be angry about it, rather than trying to figure out the source of what caused the mistake? We don't even need to think hypothetically for that one because we saw it on screen. Jaune attacked Oscar and drove him off, not just threatening him, but arguably endangering the whole team by requiring a search party. Fans have long insisted they had to steal that airship right then because being in Argus was too much of a risk, but if we buy that reading (which I personally don't, but), then that means Jaune made things exponentially worse by forcing them out into that super dangerous city, rather than allowing everyone to stay hidden inside. He made a massive mistake which, according to the logic of Qrow's arc, should be met with frustration, disdain, and eventual demands to get over his anger at Ozpin or ship out. But, of course, he received nothing but concern. Yang was worried about him, not Oscar. The search becomes about his grief for Pyrrha and his team's willingness (as well as Pyrrha's family member) to provide more comfort. Suddenly, the tendency to express care solely towards those within the group becomes a flaw the story won't acknowledge.

And then it spirals. The thing to remember is that no single act here is bad on its own, especially when we consider that yes, we want flawed characters. Rather, it's about the pattern. Ruby is allowed to get mad at Qrow for his behavior and chuck her scroll in frustration. She's human. I'd be crazy frustrated too. However, if Ruby is meant to be written as a caring, sympathetic character, she should not only respond to the situation with frustration, yelling, a refusal to listen, and demands that he follow her lead, no questions asked. We can, and should, acknowledge that Weiss was the victim during that party. Her father was hurting her, the woman was beyond insensitive, Weiss was triggered in regards to a horrific event, and her power acted on its own. However, if we want to write Weiss as a compassionate, mature huntress to-be, she should acknowledge that she nearly killed someone — even an asshole someone — and vow to work on her control because she's not willing to put someone in danger like that ever again. Both of these moments have a "They could have been handled better" response attached to them — the former more-so than the latter imo — but these moments are made far, far worse due to later events in the show, events where the characters are cruel without any justification attached. Weiss didn't mean to attack that woman, but she did mean to ignore Whitely and threaten him with her weapon. So once we see that, it informs our understanding of what came before it. "Oh. The fact that Weiss never reacted to nearly killing someone isn't just a bit of missed potential, it's an early indicator that she... doesn't seem to care. If she endangers people, threatens people... that's fine with her." The group has a right to be frustrated with Qrow. The group did not have the right to magically steal Ozpin's entire life story, assault him, and blame him for the world's problems until he felt his only course of action was to run from them. So when we see that it becomes, "Oh. The fact that the group treated Qrow so poorly isn't just a one-time mistake born of a stressful situation and young adults being out of their depth in regards to alcoholism. They really will just abandon anyone the moment they start making mistakes." Anyone outside of their group, that is.

To say nothing of how all of these moments interconnect. Yang's recovery isn't just about getting used to not having an arm, it's about getting used to having a new one. Weiss' party isn't just about nearly killing someone, it's about not committing manslaughter because someone else stepped in. The Volume 6 arc isn't just about trying to escape with the Relic, it's about trying to get it somewhere safe. Fans frustrated with Ironwood's treatment don't harp on these details out of some desperate attempt to make him look good post-murder spree, rather, they recognize that he's a character that's been around since nearly the beginning, originally written as a good guy, and thus has accumulated a number of key connections with the cast. So when none of those connections are acknowledged during an arc about trust... that makes the group look very uncaring. Yang doesn't care that he gave her the arm, Weiss doesn't care that he saved her from hurting/potentially killing someone, Qrow doesn't care that he's trusted Ironwood for years (in a rival-bros way) and that they've been heading towards him this whole time. And when Ironwood begins to spiral, they don't do anything to try and help him, let alone acknowledge that their own choices, that lack of trust and empathy, had a hand in getting them here. "But it's not their responsibility to fix him!" Isn't it? Even a little? Just as human beings seeing an ally struggling under horrific decisions and circumstances? Sure, they don't have to try... but that doesn't make them look very heroic to my mind. And we can't even shrug that off by simplifying things with, "Well, Ironwood is evil now so who cares about him." They simultaneously don't care about finding Qrow who is missing, then captured. They don't do anything to try and find their missing teammates, with the exception of sending May to do it instead. They don't help the army fight off the grimm. Don't try to make sure Pietro and Maria had portals to escape through. Barely hesitate when the newly resurrected characters goes, "Kill me. That's the easiest thing for everyone." And these are just a few of the big ticket moments. It doesn't even begin to cover all the details we get that paint a picture of, "Wow okay. They just really don't care about people outside the group, huh? I mean, they say they do, in a life-or-death way, but they're not putting forth effort to show it on a daily basis."

And if you pick up on all that, if you acknowledge how much the group has changed based on where they started out, you might wonder when in the world that started. Surely we didn't just flip a switch around Volume 6. So you re-watch early stuff and, sure enough, there are moments that feel like setup for what's to come later. Not intentional setup (quite obviously), but a lack of care towards details across the series that, once the dynamic changed, became far, far more pronounced. Characters should be at least somewhat recognizable from start to finish, especially characters who have only experienced about two years of in-world time, so if we now get to see Ruby blandly commenting on all the people who are dying, or Weiss using her weapon as a means of coercing her little brother into doing what she wants, or Yang and Jaune dismissing Ren until he gives in to their point of view... we're going to look for the beginnings of that behavior early on. As you say, we were able to wave all those little details off due to a number of important factors. Now though? Now they feel like they hold a lot more weight, simply by virtue of that early material proceeding what we have now.

[winelover1989]

Fighting Depression according to Alex Korb’s book ‘The Upward Spiral’ Part 1

“Go out in the sunlight. Bright sunlight helps boost the production of serotonin. It also improves the release of melatonin, which helps you get a better night’s sleep. So if you’re stuck inside, make an effort to go outside for at least a few minutes in the middle of the day. Go for a walk, listen to some music, or just soak in the sun.” 

“Exercise changes the electrical activity in your brain during sleep, which then reduces anxiety, improves mood, and gives you more energy to exercise. 

Similarly, expressing gratitude activates serotonin production, which improves your mood and allows you to overcome bad habits, giving you more to be grateful for.”

“Have fun (a.k.a. don’t “exercise”). When you don’t think of it as “exercise” but rather as “being active” or “having fun,” you’re more likely to do it, and it will have a bigger emotional benefit. If you bike to work three days a week or play Frisbee with friends in the park, it won’t feel like you’re exercising, but it’ll add up to a lot of activity.”

“Think of happy memories. Happy memories boost serotonin in the anterior cingulate. Try to think of one happy memory before you go to sleep—write it in a journal or just reflect on it.”

“Make a decision. Anxiety and worrying are provoked by possibility, not certainty. In fact, many people are less happy when they have more choices, because they have more to worry about. When everything is up in the air, the amygdala becomes more reactive.  So if you tend to worry, reduce your options and make quick decisions whenever possible. As soon as you make a decision, however small, everything starts to feel more manageable”

“Go for good enough. Worrying is often triggered by wanting to make the perfect choice or by trying to maximize everything. When buying a used car, you want one that is cheap, reliable, safe, sexy, the right color, and fuel efficient. Unfortunately, no single option is likely to be the best in all those dimensions. If you try to have the best of everything, you’re likely to be paralyzed by indecision or dissatisfied with your choice. In fact, this kind of “maximizing” has been proven to increase depression.”

“Stay in the now. Pay attention to the things that are happening now, and don’t pay attention to the things that aren’t happening now. Focusing on the present helps reduce anxiety and worry, because it decreases emotional, self-focused processing in the ventromedial prefrontal cortex. Attention to the present also increases dorsolateral and ventrolateral prefrontal activity, allowing these regions to calm the amygdala. Improving your ability to stay present, a practice known as “mindfulness,” helps enhance these activations and leads to long-term improvements in anxiety and worrying.”

“Self-examination activates prefrontal circuits, which can calm the limbic system. Putting emotions into words—however hokey that sounds—actually rewires your brain circuits and makes you feel better.”

“Notice what you notice. You can’t control the random bits of information that pop into your head. But you can start to notice your biases. When you get annoyed that you’re stuck at a red light think: Oh, that’s interesting. I noticed this red light, but I didn’t notice the last green light I made. In short, try practicing nonjudgmental awareness . Nonjudgmental awareness is a form of mindfulness that simply means noticing without reacting emotionally, even when things don’t turn out as you expected. Awareness does not require emotion, because emotion and awareness are mediated by different brain regions. Noticing a mistake might automatically trigger the emotional amygdala, but becoming aware of your own reaction activates the prefrontal cortex, which calms the amygdala.”

“Strengthen Optimism Circuits. The first step is to simply imagine the possibility of positive future events. You don’t have to believe they will happen, just that they could happen. It’s possible you could find true love tomorrow. It’s possible that you could find a better job. It’s possible that things won’t turn out in the worst conceivable way. Recognizing that good things are possible activates the lower (ventral) anterior cingulate. Importantly, the ventral anterior cingulate helps regulate the amygdala, so admitting the possibility of good things helps control the brain’s negative bias. The second step to strengthening optimism circuits is not just recognizing that good things could happen, but expecting that they will happen. Expecting positive events also activates the ventral anterior cingulate, as well as prefrontal areas that also help control the amygdala."

[lag1995-fics]

Hi!! May I request a dadneto fic of them calling each other dad and son for the first time? 🥰

Of course my love I’m a total sucker for dadneto. ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoy

Dad.

Summary: Peter didn’t need a dad and he was sure Erik didn’t want a loser like him for a son. His father had already had the perfect family and had them snatched from him. Peter like he usually is was wrong.

Warnings: Peter has low self worth and anxiety. There’s a bit of angst but nothing heart wrenching. I don’t even think I cursed this time but I might have.

Pairing: there isn’t one just some good old fashioned father, son bonding. Maybe Cherik if you squint and turn your head to the left.

Words: 1408

Masterlist

Rules

——————————————————————————

Peter had been avoiding Erik like the plague since the older mutant had moved into the school to help with construction. Peter may be twenty seven but telling someone they missed out on twenty seven years of their child’s life wasn’t an easy thing to do. Peter knew if he couldn’t tell the man at the end of the world then it probably wasn’t going to happen.

His issue was he had already opened his fat mouth to Raven who kept trying to trap them in a room alone together. She had even gotten Charles in on it. Sure Erik had a right to know he had another child but it shouldn’t be Peter's responsibility to inform the man he had a child much less adult twins. His mother had really dropped the ball on that one.

Peter was content to just continue living his life as if everything was the same as always. He didn’t need a dad, he was a grown ass man at this point. He was afraid the information would only make Erik even more depressed. He had seen a picture of Nina in his snooping and he had determined that the tiny girl was everything he wasn’t.

She was beautiful with a tiny freckled nose and big blue eyes. She couldn’t be a loser like her big brother who up until a couple of months ago had still been living in his mother’s basement. Why would Erik want someone like him in his life much less as a son.

“Peter you’re spiraling” The professor's voice echoed through his head and Peter groaned frustrated. He pounded on his ear like he had water caught inside.

“Peter you should tell him I can be there with you if you’d like” The professor's meddling voice came again causing Peter to lose that round of Ms. Pac-Man.

“You see Professor, I would do that but I know he doesn’t want a loser basement dweller for a kid.” Peter shot back turning up his music even louder letting the voice of his generation sweep over him. David Bowie was a king and nobody could tell him otherwise.

“Peter, you aren’t a loser, you took on Apocalypse by yourself and lived to tell about it, rather loudly I might add. You also are starting a teaching position here in the fall. You are such a good kind hearted person don’t degrade yourself that way.” Charles scolded. This was an ongoing argument between the two men and it never seemed to change his mind.

“I mean, is a P.E. Teacher even a real teacher Professor?” Peter asked.

“Physical Education is a very important role in children’s lives”Charles retorted to the unconvinced twenty-something. Peter could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him. He jerked in surprise when his watch that was laying on the side table forgotten began to vibrate. He snatched it clasping it around his wrist taking deep even breaths just trying to calm down.

So he inherited more than just the x-gene from his father. He had a secondary mutation, that was just great. He would have to be even more cautious than he already was. He knew Raven would try to trigger this in front of Erik if she found out. Which she would with her brother being a freaking mind reader.

***

“I need all staff members to my office for a staff meeting” Charles' voice echoed loudly in his head. He zipped to the office finding that Charles and Erik were already there. He should have taken his time and the tension could be cut with a knife.

“Peter, how are you? I haven’t seen you around much” Erik greeted the silver haired mutant politely.

“Oh you know I’ve just been around” Peter waved him off and he could feel the professor’s eyes burning into him like Scott’s lasers.

“Peter did you know that Erik will be staying on a our new foreign language professor?” Charles asked and Peter could once again feel the frustration start to bubble up.

“Really? I thought the government gave you an island or something?” Peter asked pointedly, ignoring the professor’s smug grin.

“Well I decided that I should stay, one thing apocalypse was right about was mutants needing to stick together” Erik explained and Peter was suddenly regretting taking this job.

“Isn’t it delightful Erik is fluent in so many languages German, Russian, French, Spanish, and even Polish. Peter isn’t your mother originally from the Ukraine?” Peter wanted to glare at the older man but couldn’t...not without giving himself away at least.

“No she’s originally from Poland she moved to the Ukraine after being liberated with my ciotka” Peter bit out unknowingly feeding Erik valuable information.

“You are Jewish?” Peter wanted to run, he supposed he had Jewish blood he had known his father was Jewish.

“Romani” Peter answered shortly, trying to hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. He also wasn’t technically lying to be Jewish your mother technically had to be Jewish.

“And your last name is Maximoff?” Peter could feel the anxiety build up in his throat cursing his seventeen year old self for dropping the fact that his mother quote “knew someone who could control metal”.

Erik began staring hard at the boy taking in his features. He began to see a resemblance to Magda, his ex wife. He tried to explain it away he was probably Marya’s child, but how likely was it that Marya would give birth to a child with a mutation. He knew that Django and her husband didn’t have any mutation that he knew about.

Erik’s calculating gaze only served to push Peter that much closer to an anxiety attack. He could feel his already swift heart rate pick up even faster with his emotions. He could feel the cool metal of the watch hum and he fought the anxiety. The last thing Peter needed was to give Erik another clue. Controlling metal would be like a neon sign yelling I’m your son.

“Your mother was her name Marya or Magda?” Erik asked, still studying the nervous man. With his mother’s name all the metal in the professor’s office began to hum and vibrate. Peter began internally cussing as Erik’s eyes went wide. He started to bolt out the door but was held in place by his watch and the zipper on his jacket.

“Peter” was all Erik could say and suddenly Peter began to wonder if the professor hadn’t called the staff meeting and only let him and Erik know. That was something he should have expected from Raven not the professor. It seemed being a meddling meddler ran in their family.

“Uh yeah?” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck trying to get the metal in the room to stop vibrating.

“Your mother, her name was Magda” Erik remarked, it was a statement not a question. He couldn’t help but wish the Wanda was here with him. She had always been the smarter twin.

“Ummm yeah” he confessed. Erik’s face looked like a cross between anguish and pure joy. Anguish that he had missed so much of his child’s life and joy that he had been reunited with said child. This was Anya’s baby brother and Nina’s elder brother. Erik knew that he would protect Peter with all of his might from now on. Erik would not waste another moment.

“My son” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion as he started down his adult child. Peter went to look at Charles for help but cursed when he saw that the wheelchair bound man had excused himself without Peter or Erik noticing.

Erik staggered forward wrapping his arms around the man and Peter melted. Peter may not have needed a father but that wasn’t to say he didn’t want one. He had always craved male companionship, he had always looked forward to visiting his aunt and uncle as a child. This was different though this man was his father, something his uncle Django tried to be for him but never really could. Erik’s hug was warm and safe and strong and he suddenly felt like he was fifteen years old again.

“Dad,” he muttered, finally squeezing the older man back fighting back tears. He had thought Erik would be angry, that he would think that Peter was trying to replace Nina. Erik wasn’t angry though, Erik was relieved he had his family. His family might not be whole but at least he had part of it.

“You have my mother’s eyes” Erik informed him, as he pulled back to further examine Peter’s face. Peter had always thought that his eyes were a dull brown, he had always wished they were bright like his mother and sister’s were. He supposed this was better, if he had his grandmother's eyes that meant that a part of her lived on.

Peter knew that he needed to inform Erik of Wanda, but that could wait a few more moments. For now all Peter wanted to do was soak in his father’s acceptance and love at least for a moment

Thank you please feel free to request.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 2.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 4th June 2021

Word count: 2 751

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 1.)

Chap. 2.

“What’s my name?”

“Baekhyun.”

“Wrong.”

A stroke of the riding crop over her chest makes the woman whimper. She’s older than him, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, everything about her – her age, name, wants and aversions – they’re all reduced to the leather collar around her neck.

“How are you to address me?”

“Master” she doesn’t hesitate.

The man does, though – he stares her down just for a few seconds, as if to judge her, before he speaks again.

“Good.”

Her gaze follows him as he walks slowly around her, observing her body’s reaction. She’s not to move, not to ask questions. She’s to accept it.

“I’m going to beat you with the crop now. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Bend over.”

* * *

The day was long, but Baekhyun found himself relieving stress in one of his favorite ways.

This time, he sat in The Queen of Spades alone, sipping whiskey and silently watching people around him, eventually ending up staring into the alcohol’s surface instead, until it disappeared entirely and there were only a few pieces of ice at the bottom left to look at. Once they melted, he’d drink them up as well – and it would probably happen, as he wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. There was not much to do.

His eyes landed on the small cut on the inside of his palm, placed next to the glass; the cut was still fresh, but not deep enough to require medical assistance, or even bandaging for that matter. Accidents happened – in some jobs more than in others. The best he could do was to make sure that accidents like this would not follow him back home.

He heard his phone vibrate, but it took him a few seconds to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi there, Hyunie.”

The familiar voice made him sigh deeply with annoyance.

“You don’t sound happy to hear me,” the feminine voice on the other side spoke in slight offense.

“Sorry, it’s not your fault, Luna, I thought I’d be off for the night,” he admitted honestly; the woman’s presence was not something he minded much, but she wasn’t one who ever brought good news, so his mood instantly dropped the moment he heard her voice.

“Well, tonight you can rest, I have something for tomorrow, though.”

Baekhyun exhaled, already rubbing his temples.

“Spill it, I guess.”

“It’s an office. They have a very good security and our hacker couldn’t get in, so we need someone to go there and get some physical copies out, take a few pics and then leave them where they were. No footprints. We need the copies by Monday, and I’ll send someone to give you the details in person tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?” He was ready to hang up; thinking became too tiring. But tomorrow; tomorrow, he’d consider this; now was his time off.

“You did leave footprints today, everyone knows. That you got in trouble, and the police were called. What if they recognize you?”

The man snorted in response.

“No way, I know our safety measures. I wouldn’t let them see my face. It was just an accident, okay. A harmless one. I know better and it won’t happen again” he elaborated, feigning confidence – anything just to make this conversation end.

“Are you sure it was harmless?” Luna was the most composed as she spoke, her voice completely ridden of emotions, and that was what started to worry him. As he knew, carelessness and light humor were typical of her, not this seriousness and solemnity.

“What do you mean?”

“The police have a sample of your blood” she finally spilled. “It wasn’t enough to extract your DNA, but it’s already something. Be careful next time, could you?”

His heart dropped. Confidence was gone.

“…Got it.”

“That’s all. Just take care of yourself, Hyunie.”

“Yeah…”

“Sleep well tonight. You have a long day ahead.” She made a quiet smooch sound.

“Goodnight, Luna.”

The line went dead.

For the next few minutes, Baekhyun stared straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

In fact, though, he was depleted of thoughts. He was stuck in the bubble of no thinking, no reasons, no emotions, as his brain processed the information it just gathered, but the process was happening outside of his consciousness.

He wished to stay in his thoughtless bubble for longer, but the thin barrier between his consciousness and his internal dialogue finally broke, and he was flooded with everything that he’d been keeping at bay ever since the conversation started.

And so, Byun Baekhyun started contemplating all the things that he preferred to keep away from himself, so as to not spiral into depression and frustration.

He chose a job, thinking, that the breach of law will give him the freedom he desperately wanted.

He ended up dependent on other people to the point where not even the law could protect him anymore; exactly the opposite – the law didn’t seem much of an obstacle anymore, in comparison to all the other things he got tangled in. It wasn’t a lifestyle that one could escape, and he’d learned it way too late.

He tried to achieve independence, but he became a pawn in other people’s hands, irrelevant to the big things happening around; trusted and respected, yet simply disposable at someone else’s command.

There was only one way he knew that could help him regain the sense of control.

And that was how Byun Baekhyun coped.

* * *

“Bend over.”

She obliges without a question, leaning over the table in front of her. Apparently, he’s interested in her behind, rather than the chest that was only a bit pink from the previous hits. She’s an obedient, but slightly frisky one, one that aims to please while also hoping for some pleasure for herself, getting bored easily, but also fussy if something goes not as she wants. Baekhyun breaks her spirit every time they meet, ridding her of any remaining selfishness.

But she enjoys the pain. He makes sure she enjoys nothing else.

The first hit makes her moan, rather than resist. Her skin is smooth, with no scars, and he makes sure it won’t stay this way for much longer, at least for the next few weeks that it will take to heal after he’s done.

The next few swats must feel nice as well, but then her voice falters and turns into quiet whimpers. She doesn’t try to move away, instead, she leans back, at least for the next few hits until it becomes too much and she tries to move away instead.

She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; the sound of the riding crop hitting her bottom mixes with her breath becoming strained and whines becoming louder from pain.

* * *

It was a few days later that Baekhyun sat again in his favorite, cozy area of The Queen of Spades, with a man taller, but younger than himself; it was not so difficult to be taller than Baekhyun, but at the age of 29, most of the people in his circle of closest friends were younger, while most of the ones in his work field were older, which was some sort of a good sign, meaning that he’s worth more than most people of his age.

29 years old – a confusing age. He should have had his life figured out by now, and, to some extent, he had – he knew what he was good at, and what he could do to slowly ensure himself a stable retirement. But to say he was pleased with his career of choice would probably be a misstatement. Yet, that was what he had, and that was what he needed to accept.

They sat on the leather couch that he usually occupied. The taller, bar-styled table and two chairs were on the right side of the couch – he usually used them when carrying on serious conversations. But currently, he was there just to rest, and so in use was the couch. He glanced at the man on his side – leaning his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder, looking fragile despite, in comparison to Baekhyun, being the stronger silhouette.

“Don’t fall asleep, Sehun.”

No answer came, and he didn’t feel a strong need to disturb the other’s rest. Maybe it wouldn’t be too appropriate to sleep in such a place, making an impression of getting drunk over the limits – which was not really the case, alcohol wasn’t the reason for Sehun’s tiredness – however, in fact, who was there to judge them? Especially with Baekhyun being a regular customer who knew everyone else with such a title; and most of them knew what he was up to as well, and why the people he came with usually were not in the most energetic moods.

The music playing in The Queen of Spadeswas usually quiet and climatic, R&B and jazz tunes mixed with the voices of people, and people coming here usually didn’t try stir the bar’s aura.

In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

The moment a person entered the bar, welcomed by the dim space of browns, beiges, woods, and crystals, their soul instantly filled with the calm atmosphere. The aesthetic and climate gave a clear cue, that intruding them wouldn’t be worth much; it was the best to accept and follow, to allow the place to create the unique experience.

“Sehun, are you sleeping?” Baekhyun glanced at the other, and the man only hummed lowly in response. Baekhyun’s shoulder began to cramp, so he gently lifted the other’s head and rested it on the couch’s backrest instead. Sehun instantly moved a little to adjust, but it didn’t seem like he’d want to get up anytime soon. Baekhyun eyed the bruises on his neck – slowly darkening fingerprints of his own.

The bar’s door suddenly opened, catching his attention with noise when the door accidentally hit the wall. Two girls walked in: one of them he saw come here a few times before, alone and not, and the other… well, the other he had not only seen before, but would most likely see in the future as well. What a coincidence.

[F/n] looked nothing like when he last saw her; primarily because, at the museum, she wore modest clothes that suited the situation. Now, in tight fitted pants and a loose shirt exposing a fair amount of cleavage, she looked way more like a girl of her age, similar to many others that came to the bar every day. If not for the fact he knew her, he wouldn’t have paid her much attention now; however, he did know a bit, and if not her appearance, then at least the personality behind it kept his eyes on her until she looked over her shoulder, sparing him a shy glance, as though either knowing he’s looking at her, or, at the very least, expecting him in the same place as he usually was – in fact, he guessed it would be the latter.

She smiled at him softly, and he reciprocated the smile, tension on his face dissipating; the smile grounded him, in a way, reminding him of the fact that, just as he could watch anyone now, he could also be watched. His presence also didn’t make her as tense as it did before, which was relieving – he started worrying if he didn’t go too far during their official first meeting. The word sensitive written on the page of his notebook wasn’t taken out of the blue. She was fragile, he could tell; not in a bad way – but he knew how his demeanor impacted her back then. But that was sort of a proof in itself, a proof of her determination, because despite this impact, she didn’t back out when she had the chance to.

He still felt that she’s not completely aware of what came with the lifestyle – hobby? activity? – that she was getting herself into. Yet, when he thought about it, how could anyone know that for sure, before they had a taste of what’s it like? If anything, he could give her a chance, he thought; a trial, to see if not only she’s in for her own indulgence, but if she can handle what he himself is interested in.

“Wazzup?” Sehun’s voice sounded by his side. The man was undoubtedly good at recognizing his changes in moods. When Baekhyun didn’t feel confident enough to say too much, it was usually Sehun who asked the questions, allowing him to spill out what was on his mind.

“Nothing much. There’s a girl, though, she wants to join” he explained slowly. Sehun’s face didn’t change at the statement.

“You want to take her?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Ah, so.”

“What do you think?” Baekhyun glanced down at the other; Sehun didn’t look at him, his eyes remained closed.

“Well, I don’t know her. But since Byeoli moved out, your circle’s been kind of empty. There’s me, Chaejang, Lisa… well, yeah, that’s it. You haven’t taken anyone new in a while, and old ones are leaving… Aren’t you getting bored?”

“I’m not bored with any of you.” The statement was simple, but meaningful; Sehun smiled softly at that.

“Well, but you seem to have a lot of free time now, and when you have too much free time, you do stupid things.”

Baekhyun scoffed.

“I mean it.” Sehun looked at him directly now. “You’re getting lonely. You need stimuli.”

To the last statement, there was no answer. The men sat there in silence for some more time, until the glasses became empty, until there was nothing more to sit there for, and until the night became so deep that it threatened with becoming the morning soon.

* * *

“Will this be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You gave the customer in front of you a bill with the price of his purchase – an average one, just some grocery; not like you paid it much attention – and took the calculated amount of cash from his hand. No change, no problem. You shared a warm smile, as warm as you could muster up at the late hour. It was one of the days when your natural shyness and introversion didn’t get in the way, and you could enjoy the few polite words exchanged with the people passing the store.

“Thank you, goodnight.”

Right as the door closed behind the man, your phone suddenly called and you reached under the counter, where some of your personal things rested during your shift, ready to reach for if necessary.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?” Your heart skipped at the familiarity of the voice. However, this time it wasn’t due to anxiety – you started to look forward to his response, and it was like butterflies in your stomach when you received one. You probably should save his number, though.

“Um… Not much” you replied honestly.

“Is your Friday afternoon free?”

“This Friday?” It was Wednesday, you consulted your imaginary calendar.

“Yeah” he replied shortly.

“Um… Sorry, I have the night shift. Saturday?” You counteroffered right away, not wanting him to take your response as a rejection.

“Won’t you be tired?”

“I’ll sleep it off before the afternoon. I’m used to it.” Your free hand fiddled nervously with the strap of your ID badge.

“Hm, okay then. Can we meet at The Queen of Spades? I live nearby too.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.” He hesitated for just a second or two. “Are you okay with that?”

The statement made all the cogs in your head move. You hesitated now, too.

Was it what you thought it was? You couldn’t be sure – it could have been just another one of the ordinary meetings, one to get to know each other better, one to pass free time. It was still soon – you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Even in the span of the time that has passed ever since seeing him for the first time, till reaching this particular point – it still felt so fast, as though after all these years of hopeless yearning you weren’t ready for jumping into the deep end and bringing your dreams to life.

Yet, your instincts were at ease, no red flags, no suspicions. You didn’t feel a need to refuse, or to wait. What would happen if you did – wouldn’t you end up regretting it? Would you be stuck in your safe-zone forever? Although you felt naïve in your trust, you still trusted your instincts foremost.

So the answer came naturally.

“Yes. Yes, I’m in.”

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch

Author's note: How's everyone doing~? I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Please let me know your thoughts on adding that little criminal thread! And, while waiting for the next update, consider checking out my masterlist~

Next (Chapter 3.)

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Happy New Year (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Can you do one where they are strangers and meet each other during a new years eve party and then end up kissing each other when the ball drops and make it super romantic (not in covid times) pretty please

Written: 2021

Word Count: 2,040

Warnings: Swearing, mention of being roofied, breakup

Masterlist

I sit in the uber, waiting for everyone to get out. Maybe they’ll be too excited about the party to realize that I went home. Maybe I should escape out the other door and disappear into the night. I didn’t even want to come out tonight in the first place. After the year I’ve had, going to an influencer party is the last place I want to attend. Unluckily for me, my best friends were tired of me staying in my apartment all day, every day, and refused to let me ring in the new year alone. Sadly, this meant that I had to go with them to a party because my apartment gave off “depression vibes” and that “wasn’t the move” for 2021. That’s the only thing that I agreed with them on, the vibe thing, not going to a party. 

After nearly a year of quarantine and processing a breakup, my place is a bit of a disaster. If it wasn’t for Janie ambushing me every day last week to help/force me to clean up, my apartment would still look like that cave where the grinch lives— minus Max. There were various alcohol bottles collecting dust on the counter. Not in a “she’s spiraling very rapidly” sort of way, but in a way that you could tell that I had a rough few weeks and the occasional wine night with the gals. There were boxes, mostly from March and April, that I still had yet to throw out after impose buying a bunch of stuff. My closet had turned into my bed because that was the only safe space that wasn’t cluttered with food packaging or tainted by memories that no longer bring me joy. I hadn’t properly seen my floor in months until we pulled back the layer of filth. I forgot that I had carpet. Still, after all that, I managed to make videos every week without fail.

“Y/N, c’mon, you’re not escaping this time. Let’s go so you can forget that asshole and that backstabbing bitch.” Persephone begs as she pulls me out of the car. Once out of the car, she adjusts her long, dark brown curls and smooths out her dress before reconnecting to her boyfriend’s hip. They both match with their gold and black outfits. All of my friends and their significant others match. Ophelia and her girlfriend are wearing silver and blue while Janie and her boyfriend are wearing maroon and gold. They all look like gods and goddesses and here I am wearing green and sliver on my own. Could I be anymore single?

“I’m not going to do it, I was just thinking about it. Don’t worry. I have to get footage for the vlog anyway. Gotta prove that I did something other than stay home this year. My fans are getting concerned.” I pull out my camera and get a few clips of everyone.

“Might as well get some pictures then so people will believe you.”1 Ophelia winks before grabbing me and leading us to what I’m assuming is the designated photo spot. There’s even a line. This is going to be one of those nights.

****

“Aw, fuck…” I mutter to myself as my drink gets knocked out of my hand. This house isn’t big enough for the number of people that were invited. 

“I am so sorry! Here, let me help you.” The guy who bumped into me extends his hand for me to grab. I’m sober enough to know not to take completely random strangers' hands at parties, especially in LA, but I’m also drunk enough to not care. He looks nice enough and I can spot Ophelia and her girlfriend Zoe keeping an eye on me from the corner of the room. I guess everyone is taking turns to make sure I don’t bail.

Against better judgment, I take this beautiful stranger’s hand and let him guide me out of the house to the backyard. It’s less crowded out here, maybe because there are more activities to do inside. Out here, I can actually breathe even though people are smoking and vaping out here. The music is quieter. The music is still loud, but like it would burst your eardrum like the music inside. I get a better look at the guy who brought me out here. He’s not bad looking, and I really hope that’s not the alcohol talking. He has the most relaxing blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy. His hair is dark brown with a bit of, I think, purple in the front. He looks as threatening as a pug, but looks can be deceiving.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get any on you did I?” He asks as he scans my body, not in a creepy way. Which is a nice change of pace.

“My feet but they’re just shoes so I don’t care. I call these my going out shoes, they’re made for moments like this so you’re all good. I’m Y/N by the way.” I stick my hand out for him to shake. He looks at it puzzled for a second before it registers and he grabs my hand and gives it a firm shake. 

“Right— I spilled your drink on you and basically kidnapped you from the party and you don’t even know my name. It’s Colby, Colby Brock.” Colby shakes my hand a little too long before quickly pulling it away.

“I’m Y/N, you can get the last name later,” I bite my bottom lip, close my eyes, and mentally slap my head. “That was lame, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine. It’s a thousand times better than anything I would have come up with. Just blame it on the alcohol.”

We both laugh before Colby singles that he’ll be right back. I watch as Colby disappears a small group of people. I take off my shoes and walk to the pool, dipping my feet in as I sit. The cool night air is soothing me. It’s a nice change from the stale scent of my apartment and the sweaty bodies inside the party. I look up to the night sky. The light pollution makes it impossible to see what stars and constellations are above us. Whatever I’m staring at right now feels peaceful, like they are aligned or not in retrograde. I have no idea what any of that means, but I do know that I’ve been around Ophelia too much.

Colby taps my shoulder when he gets back. He kicks off his shoes and socks before joining me in the pool, not even rolling up his pant legs. He’s going to regret that in a few hours. He hands me an unopened can of Truly. I take it from him and open it myself. At least I know he’s not a creep. He opens a can of White Claw and sips it before breaking the silence.

“I have to be honest, Y/N.” Colby looks forward, taking another sip.

“Oh no, what is it?” I ask nervously.

“The real reason I dropped your drink is because I saw some asshole slip something in your drink.” Colby finally looks at me and I can tell he’s serious.

“Wait…what? Someone tried to… Any you thought the best was to inform me was to spill my drink all over me?” I’m more taken aback by the idea of me almost getting roofied than anything. That would have been the perfect way to end this shit storm of a year.

“In hindsight, I planned to spill your drink. I didn’t mean to get any on you. I’m not a hundred percent sober right now so that was the downside of my plan. Don’t worry about the guy, my friend Corey went after him.”

“Wow— Uh, thank you. I mean it. I don’t think I could have dealt with… that on top of everything else I had to handle this year.” I take a sip of my drink and swing my legs in the water. 

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m not big on talking about serious stuff with strangers, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to. However, we’re both getting hammered, if we aren’t already, so the likely hood of us even remembering this conversation tomorrow let alone who we are slim. So if you need to vent, vent.”

I weigh the pros and cons of actually venting everything to this beautiful stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I decided to say fuck it. The year is almost over anyway, might as well get rid of this baggage and start the year fresh.

“Long story short: after months of quarantining together Axl, my boyfriend of 10 years, cheated on me. The entire time we were in quarantine. With my younger sister, who I let quarantine with us so she wouldn’t be alone and not have to fly back home to be with our parents. And to top it all off, I found out about it on my birthday when I walked in on them fucking each other on my bed.” I take a larger sip of my drink before leaning back and staring back at the virtually starless sky.

“Holy fucking shit,” Colby leans back to join me in looking at the sky.

“Yup! We met in preschool and started dating when we were 13. She’s four years younger than us to that’s annoying.” 

“Not to be that guy, but I don’t know what you expected when you started dating a guy named Axl.”

“… You’re right, that is a pretty douchey name. I literally ignored the biggest red flag in my entire life.”

Colby and I laugh again until it fades. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much, like actually laughed, in months. It feels good. Inside the house, the crowd starts counting down from 15. Colby must have heard it too because I watch him turn his head from the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face him. He really does have beautiful eyes. Like the ocean.

“This may be a dumb idea and I know we don’t know each other, but do you want to be my new years kiss?”

“I may regret this in the future, but what the hell.” We both sit up and adjust our clothes.

It might be risky to just kiss a random stranger at midnight, but who cares. We’re most likely not going to be in each other’s lives after tonight anyway. But by God, I could do much worse than kissing Colby. Unless I’m very drunk and the drunk goggles are seriously fucking with me. It’s not like I’m going home with him, my friends won’t let that happen. Maybe after this party, we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again. Maybe we’ll run into each other in a random store in LA or at some creator convention.

The drunken yells of party-goers inch closer and closer to midnight.

“Three,” Colby whispers, moving his hair out of his face.

“Two,” I take one more small sip before finally setting my drink down. Colby does the same. My heart is beating a loud, steady rhythm in my chest like it’s about to burst.

“One,” We whisper at the same time before slowly leaning in.

As our lips touch, it felt like time had stopped. The beating intense beating in my heart only intensifies the longer our lips stay pressed together. One of Colby’s hands finds my face why the other reaches for my thigh, but I can only focus on how soft his lips are. My stomach starts forming knots as he tries to deepen the kiss. I don’t know if it’s everything I drank tonight coursing through my veins or the fact that I haven’t been kissed in months, but I slightly part my lips. The mixture of Colby’s scent and his body heat wash over me like they’re intoxicating my senses. The kiss ends just as suddenly as it started. We both pull away and just stare at each other in awe.

“L/N,” I breathe, fixing my hair.

“What?” Colby takes another sip of his drink.

“My last name is L/N.”  

[kuroosdumbslut]

Obey Me! Levi, Satan, Belphie when MC’s going through a Depression Episode

**completely self indulgent due to current events going on in my life and the depression episode i hit today,,,gotta love bipolar disorder**

TW// depression, intrusive thoughts, mentions of self harm/scratching

Leviathan:

he noticed you seemed a little more down and closed off lately

all the brothers did, really, but levi could guess that it was some kind of depression

he doesnt confront you right away about it, rather he takes his time to figure out a constructive way to bring it up and offer help

of course, plans never go through the way they’re originally intended to

later in the evening, levi heard a soft knock from his door, recognizing the pattern of the knock as yours

he wasn’t expecting to find you with tears still streaming down your face and scratching furiously at your forearm

he quickly asked for permission to touch you, then gently grabbed your hand when you gave the go ahead, prying your hand away from the raw skin of your forearm

he lead you to the bathroom and let you cry it out on him as he cleaned and wrapped your arm, pulling you into a tight embrace after he was satisfied with his bandaging

“i know its hard, but you’re...you’re my Henry, you can come to me when youre feeling this bad”

Satan:

satan could tell you weren’t doing too good mentally, judging by your constant puffy eyes and strained look you get sometimes when you were in class or even just at the dining table

he pulls you aside one day when he’s sure he’s able to talk to you without interruptions

“hey...whats going on? you’ve been down recently, is there anything I can do or that you want to talk about?”

it didn’t take long for you to start tearing up again, explaining the horrific side of your intrusive thoughts that have sent you spiraling for the past couple of weeks

he listened with a sad look on his face, hating how he really couldn’t do much except for comfort you as best as he could

ushered you to his room, pulling you into a warm hug and whispering how he wishes he could take away every bad thought that invades your mind

lowkey he probably considered looking up some spells or potions to see if there’s any that would help, but when he comes up empty handed, he settles on copious amounts of affection and affirmations that, at the very least, momentarily silence all those inteusive thoughts

Belphegor:

he knew right away that you were having a depression episode, he’s had enough of them himself to know the signs

doesnt waste any time in asking you about it, asking if you wanted to deal with it yourself or if you wanted him to stay with you and help you through it

when you practically begged him to stay with you, he wasted no time in pulling you into bed with him, wrapping you up in his arms as he hummed quietly to help you fall asleep

“sleep for now...we can talk about it later. for now, you need rest”

he didn’t want to press you to spill about what, if anything, triggered this depression episode when you were still so clearly mentally exhausted and struggling to even function

after what was essentially a full night’s rest, he finally asked about what caused this episode, listening intently in case he needed to relay some...important information to Beel about a possible asshole

upon hearing it was an out of the blue kind of episode, he nodded in understanding and pressed little kisses to your face and head

he hates seeing you so upset and internally might put the blame on himself, but he will do everything in his power to help you out and make you feel even the slightest bit better

[snailsnfriends]

Dream SMP and the Effects of Grimdark Media: An Essay

Hello! For those who don’t me, I am snail, and I have been interested in the Dream SMP since October, but joined the Tumblr community not too long ago. As a writer and actor myself, the work of those on the Dream SMP has absolutely blown me away. However, I and others have noticed a trend in the writing of the Dream SMP: a good sum of it is very grimdark, and I began to notice people really feeling the effects of that, and I wanted to look more deeply into it, and how that can be altered. 

NOTE: I am completely aware that all of the writers on the Dream SMP are amateurs, and likely do not have any sort of “training” other than what they were taught in school. I would not be critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP if I did not believe that it could be “fixed.” Later in this essay, I offer suggestions to “fix” the problem that I’m bringing up. All references to factual information used in this essay will be linked at the end. 

Now, before we can talk about the Dream SMP and its writing, first we need to figure out what grimdark media is and how that affects those who watch it.

What is grimdark media?

According to the google the definition of grimdark is “(of fiction, especially fantasy fiction) characterized by disturbing, violent, or bleak subject matter and a dystopian setting.”

So now that we’ve established what grimdark is, how does depressing media, or any form of media for that matter, affect our emotions as the viewer?

As we are consuming any form of media, whether it’s a movie, a TV show, a book, a podcast, a live theatrical performance, or a Dream SMP lore stream, we as the viewers are completely aware that what we are watching is purely fictional, and that those who are performing are acting. None of the events are real, none of the characters are real, and none of the settings are real. 

So why do we react so heavily to certain moments? Why do we cry during heavy lore streams if we know that none of it is real? 

A lot of it has to do with the human capacity to feel empathy/sympathy. Empathy allows us to understand the experiences of others, even complete strangers. Sympathy, on the other hand, allows us to share the feelings and/or emotions of others. As we are consuming media, we are aware that all of it is fake, but we still feel empathy and/or sympathy for the characters. So much so that a physical response, such as crying, is a result. 

Even though the characters of the Dream SMP are not real, a lot of their characters’ responses to traumatic events ARE, so we as an audience sympathize with them heavily. For example, c!Tommy shows very clear signs of PTSD after being killed by Dream, such as extreme emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds the victim of the event (c!Tommy freaking out after taking fall damage), trying to avoid discussing the even or avoiding activities, people, and places that remind the victim of the event (c!Tommy refusing to go into depth about what happened to him), memory problems (does not really remember how long he was dead for), easily startled, always on guard, extremely irritable, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior, and difficulty keeping close relationships (his current relationship with c!Tubbo). 

Even though we as an audience know that c!Tommy and his experiences aren’t real, his reactions to these experiences are realistic, and can be relatable to a lot of viewers, those with PTSD and those without (which is why it is VERY important to be careful with your word choice when discussing these characters; this connects with the problem of villainizing characters with mental illnesses, but that’s another topic for another day). We as viewers empathize with c!Tommy because it is likely that we have reacted the same way to traumatic events, and we understand them fully. They may remind us of our past and/or current selves, so we react emotionally to them. 

We as people also mirror the reactions and emotions of others. If someone starts to cry, real or fictional, it’s likely that you will as well. If someone is angry, you will likely get angry as well. This is not odd, and is very normal for humans to do. Regardless, getting angry or crying are emotional responses, and will hurt you in some way. 

Another thing to note is that this fandom is made up of mostly minors, and some of the most traumatized characters on the Dream SMP are also minors. It can be hard to watch kids your own age go through so much, even fictional ones. As an adult, it can be just as hard to watch these young kids go through so much, especially when you try to compare those characters to who you were at their ages. 

Even those who have not gone through these events will likely sympathize with these characters heavily because what they have gone through is emotionally heavy. Because of all of this, watching heavy lore streams can have a negative effect on a viewer’s mental health. 

Okay, so why is the Dream SMP storyline at the moment so dark and angsty? Why do people keep engaging with it if it is negatively affecting their mental health?

This sort of “angst spiral” of sorts is usually something I notice in fanworks such as fanart or fanfiction. It is sometimes a lot more fun to write or draw heavy, emotional moments, and they garner more attention. 

It sort of goes like this: the plot has a normal amount of angst in it for the story, and at this point it is balanced with more happy or “fluffy” content, the angst gets more attention from fans, the writer (or in the case of the Dream SMP, writers) notice this and write more angst as a response but it is still bearable, the audience feeds off of this heavily and create more fanart/fanfiction/theories based on it, writer really notices this and (understandably) comes to the conclusion that angst/grimdark things are the best/easiest way to get the audience excited for the plot, the plot gets very very grimdark and is not balanced out with any upbeat moments, random angst plots are started with no real ending in sight despite that not being the original plan for the character/plot (feet are too small for the big shoes) and the rare upbeat moments are short/not given any attention, and at this point, it can be almost unbearable to watch because the plot has become too grimdark. Once we reach this point, or even a few before it, it can cause a big toll on the viewers’ mental health.

The reason why someone who has been negatively affected by the grimdark content of the Dream SMP may still watch it is because the Dream SMP has not always been this way, and the writers have proven that they can do upbeat/fluffy content, so they keep watching. A big example of this is the Disc War Finale. Although the first half of it was more angsty, the final parts where everyone came together to put c!Dream in jail and to protect c!Tommy and c!Tubbo was upbeat and even a bit cathartic to watch. C!Tommy and c!Tubbo sitting on the bench, listening to their discs together in the end was much needed for the audience. This can even be seen in smaller examples, like c!Tommy exclaiming, “I’m free!” while flying around with c!Dream’s trident, or c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo adopting Michael and getting married.

The Dream SMP also may be someone’s hyperfixation, so they are unable to simply stop watching. 

So now that we know all of this, what can the writers of the Dream SMP do to fix this, and what can we as viewers do to help ourselves out?

As I said in the note before this essay, I will be citing examples of a more balanced lore/angst plot that the writers have shown that they are capable of doing.

The writers: 

Make designated lore streams shorter

The best example of this is c!Tommy’s 25-30 minute prison streams. These streams were short, sweet, and to the point. We got all of the “lore” we needed quickly, and if you happened to miss it, it was easy to watch it back later. If the lore bits were too heavy to watch, then you would not be missing too much. 

I know that this is definitely not always possible, so this is most likely the best way to go:

Balance out lore and funny bits in streams

Cc!Tommy’s last lore stream, pretty much all of the Pogtopia streams, and most of cc!Tubbo’s streams are like this. They are a mix of lore and funny moments where the CCs are actually speaking and joking with each other. These are a lot easier to watch because it is not heavy the entire time. The joking moments provide a break in between the angst, and it can also be used as a good way to remind the audience that the Dream SMP is purely fictional. These streams are also better for those who do not really care for the lore and would rather just watch the CCs mess around with each other. 

For me, these funny moments are what caused me to fall in love with the Dream SMP and the creators behind it, and I know that the same applies to a lot of people in this fandom. I think this would probably be the best way for the Dream SMP to operate around lore. 

The viewers 

Try to take a break from lore streams if it becomes too much

As I stated before, the Dream SMP is not real, but the characters’ reactions to events can be very realistic and hard to watch. If things become too much for you, try to take a break from it. Stop watching the stream, don’t go on social media if you follow stan accounts or Dream SMP dedicated blogs, and go do something that calms you down. If you feel that you’re feeling good enough to go back to the stream, go ahead! If not, then that’s completely okay too!

Follow lore recap accounts/blogs to stay up to date on the lore

The fear of missing lore streams is centered largely around missing something crucial. There are plenty of accounts on Twitter and blogs on Tumblr that recap lore streams so you can stay up to date on the plot without having to watch the streams. 

The VODs will be there to watch later

If things are too much, remember that you do not have to watch the streams in real-time. You can always watch them later if you aren’t in the right headspace to watch them live. 

Conclusion

The Dream SMP’s writing and acting is very impressive. The amount of awesome fanart, fanfiction, analysis posts, and other work is absolutely amazing. It is so cool that so many people enjoy this Minecraft roleplay so much. The amount of people who love it is good proof that the writers are doing an amazing job, and the amount of people having an emotional response to it shows the same thing. However, the amount of angst can be hard to watch and can put the writers in a tough spot to get out of. 

I have a lot of faith in the writers of the Dream SMP, and I believe that it is possibly on the right track, with Tommy’s latest lore stream being an example of this. I really do think that the amount of grimdark content can be altered and streams can be easier and more fun to watch. Hopefully we’ll get a more mixed bag of lore and angst soon to make things more enjoyable for everyone involved.

Sources:

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20355967

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-moral-molecule/200902/why-we-cry-movies

https://www.vice.com/sv/article/exqgqm/why-do-we-cry-when-we-watch-films

https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/sympathy-empathy-difference