#control related white noise

[banamine-bananime]

Growing up I lived in an area with a lot of cattle farming and I was very scared of the cows. Do you have any cool facts that will make me either more or less afraid of cows?

oh hmm let me think on that!

facts related to how to interact with cows so all parties feel and stay safe:

they have a very prey herd animal mentality. they want to move with their herdmates. they want to watch any potential threats like people and move away from them. they don't like loud or unfamiliar noises (they're sensitive souls. sometimes if i visit a dairy wearing waterproof coveralls where the cows are only used to people wearing cotton coveralls, just the whisper of waterproof pants rubbing against each other can spook them) or abrupt movements or going into areas they can't see well (and they have difficulty with depth perception due to their wide-set eyes for 300 degree vision, and with high-contrast, so going from sun into shade or vice versa can look like stepping into a white or black void for them and they don't like it)

based on this, we know the keys to low-stress cattle handling are consistency in how you interact with them, calmness (small movements, quiet words to let them know you're there), moving cows in groups big enough to have friends but small enough you can control the whole group without them milling around or the ones in front stopping and causing a traffic jam, and slowly moving them by just barely getting in their "bubble" of "whoa, you're a little too close for comfort, i'm going to move in the other direction" without ever getting into their "YIKES RUN AWAY FROM THIS THING" bubble

the last point involves understanding pressure and flight zones and point of balance:

from Mississippi State University Extension:

from grandin.com (highly recommend as a source of information about animal behaviour and welfare!!! temple grandin my idol since i was like nine i love her so. and i tear up when i think about how much she's done for millions of animals ;_; she's a genius and no lie revolutionized low-stress handling):

pet cows that get doted on enough to bond with people may not see people as a threat so the normal ways we use pressure zones to iinteract with cows don't necessarily do anything for them. you would lead them more like a horse, using a halter. or lure them with treats.

beef cows typically have little contact with people, often just processing (vaccines, preg checks, quick exam for any health problems) a couple times a year, so they can be very wild. doesn't mean they're aggressive, the overwhelming majority are non-aggressive but they have very large flight zones, so if you don't recognize that and approach too quickly, getting deep in their flight zone, that can get you into a dangerous situation where they get aggressive as a last resort. that said, they do usually still choose flight unless their calf is with them. "never get between mom and baby" applies as it does with any species

dairy cows are in between beef cows and pet cows. they interact with people regularly, several times per day, and it's respectful but not doting. kind of a business relationship with their handlers. they're not terrified of people by any means, but they haven't been, like, hand-fed treats to get over their instinctive wariness of potential-predator-like animals, and they know sometimes handling results in unpleasant experiences like medical treatment or pregnancy checks, so they avoid touch and have a flight zone, though it's small (and sometimes they'll calmly let you walk right up to them unrestrained, or approach you and lick you out of curiosity). very very rare to have an aggressive dairy cow (as in, one that attacks you instead of moving away when you're bothering them a little. really bothering them and ignoring body language when they can't move away is much more likely to get you kicked)

bulls are not docile. not every bull will be aggressive, but you should assume that every bull has the capacity to become aggressive with little provocation, and always keep a respectful distance and know your escape route if you have to be in a pen or field with them

cows love exploring with their tongues. any time you're in a dairy barn there's gonna be at least one friendly girl mlem mlem mlemming who won't leave you alone

adding on to the above, there is a slight caveat that you still have to be a LITTLE wary of friendly cows. 99% of the time they're just friendly but sometimes cows in heat will try to mount people. you don't have to be scared of friendly cows but if they're right next to you just keep them in your line of sight so you can move away if they make like they're going to mount. again, not common, never happened to me, but something to be aware of

signs of a happy, relaxed cow: lying down, chewing cud or eating, tail hanging down relaxed, moving slowly with her herd

signs of a slightly wary cow (you have entered the "pressure zone"): standing still/stopping what she's doing, turning towards you, ears turning towards you (watching the ears is a very good way of knowing what she's paying attention to), tail swishing or raised a bit away from body

signs of a distressed cow: vocalizing (they also moo for other reasons though), tail swishing, fidgeting/pawing/looking like she wants to move but doesn't know where to, freezing up and intermittently making erratic movements (back away a little)

signs of an aggressive cow: head down with attention on you, pawing ground, turning to show you their broad side. (turn sideways and calmly but swiftly walk away diagonally)

#cattle #veterinary

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Law x Fem Reader

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read these warnings before reading this fic. Genuinely, I implore you. I started writing this fic on a whim a few weeks ago, when I was contemplating my own experiences with reproduction-related health conditions such as the one that will be addressed later on in this story (endometriosis). Reproductive education and health is something that I feel very strongly about, and I feel that topics such as pregnancy complications and loss aren't addressed enough in media for fear that they're too taboo or shocking. Which, to be fair, is true, at least for the shocking aspect. Pregnancy loss is difficult, traumatic, and life-changing, for better or for worse, truly dependent on the person and the world around them.

Now you might be wondering... why would you drag one piece into this? well, i don't know. i felt like it, perhaps. Law is a character who resonates very deeply to me, his character is emotionally complex and layered, and imagining him in a scenario like this one became very interesting to me. Combine that with everything i stated above and taddaa, you get this fic.

this story does and will eventually have a happy ending (a very happy ending!) however it will take a bit to get there. this is a multi-chapter fic that i'm moving from my ao3 to my new blog, and the same warnings there apply here.

if this fic doesn't seem like your cup of tea, i encourage you to check out some of my other fics on my blog. i have a few law/readers that are tooth-rottingly fluffy and much more feel good.

with all that out of the way, thank you for reading.

Chapter 1

[Next]

The air in the room was as stifling as a sauna from the stress and anxiety filling the air.  It was so silent, the tiles surrounding the small area blocking any and all noise from outside.  The door was closed, caging you in.

You were sitting on the toilet lid, your hands rapidly perspiring and your whole body shivering with nerves.  Across from you, your husband had his arms crossed, his head hung low, his heel bouncing off the floor.  The tension was unlike anything you had ever experienced, however this had unfortunately become the norm for the past six months.

On the side of the sink sat a long white stick.  Neither of you wanted to look at it.

“Do you think it’s ready now…?” you asked, inwardly cringing at how pathetic and weak your wobbly voice sounded.

Law picked his head up, his golden eyes creased in profound concern and worry.  “It should be.  Five minutes, right?”

“I think so,” you replied.  With a trembling hand, you grabbed the stick from the counter.  Law watched your every movement with a close eye.  With a deep breath, you flipped over the test and gazed at the result window.

A single red line.

After the last failed attempt, you made a joke that you didn’t have any more tears left in you to cry, but clearly that wasn’t the case as fat, salty tears rapidly welled in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks.  Law immediately knew what the result was the second your lips twitched downward.  His heart sank into his stomach, immediately stepping toward you, grabbing the test from your hand and blindly chucking it into the small garbage can in the corner.  He knelt on the floor in front of you to pull you into his chest.

“Damn it…” you whimpered.  Your body forced you to take a shuddering inhale before sobbing an anguished, “FUCK!!!!”

Law’s heart broke.  He didn’t even know what to say to comfort you anymore.  6 months of failed attempts at conceiving a very wanted baby had caused nothing but pain to both of you.  You had both been scientific about the process.  All birth control and protection was ceased, and the two of you were religiously tracking your cycle to make sure you would try during your ovulation window, but nothing but failure after failure showed up.

You thought you were broken.

Law thought he was broken.

You wept into his shoulder, your body shuddering with each pained sob that crawled from your sore throat.  Law’s hands were frozen around you, firmly gripping your back.  You couldn’t see the tears that were forming in the corners of his stern eyes, biting his lip and forcing every muscle in his face to prevent those tears from slipping downward.  The last thing you needed was to see him cry, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold it in.

“Law…” you whimpered into his shoulder.

Law stayed silent.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he quickly retorted, cutting you off.  He felt you lurch in his arms.  “This isn’t your fault.  It’s not anyone’s fault… it’s…”

Now you stayed silent.

Law took his own shallow inhale.  “I… don’t know.”

For one of the only times in Law’s life, he was rendered completely incapable of speech.  Normally calm and analytical, looking for every possible solution or reason for an issue, he was now left completely helpless to the crashing waves of sheer dejection.  As your quivering body clung to him like a lifeline, his entire brain was scrambling for some sense, any logical thought, for the current predicament, but it was starting to become glaringly obvious to both of you.

It was very likely one of you was infertile.

When you finally picked your head up from his shoulder, Law’s previously broken heart fractured into even more irreparable pieces.

Your eyes were puffy, swollen and bloodshot from your tears.  Your entire face looked bloated from the force of your crying, and you were clearly flushed.  You looked, for lack of a better word, completely miserable.  Law helped you stand from the closed toilet seat, keeping your eyes away from the trash can where the negative pregnancy test lay on top of discarded tissues and makeup wipes, to guide you to your shared bedroom.  Neither of you had to say a word, you knew he was going to put you into your shared bed and let you get some much-deserved rest after the stressful eternity (10 minutes) you had just endured.  It was almost 8:00PM anyway, and regrettably, both of you still had work the following day.

You didn’t fight it when Law eased you down onto the mattress by your shoulders.  You kept your eyes pinned closed, not wanting to let your husband see any more of your beaten state.  You rolled over onto your side and hid in your pillows.  You didn’t hear Law mention that he would join you after cleaning up, and you didn’t notice the overhead light dimming.  You simply begged for sleep to take you quickly and painlessly.

When Law finally returned after washing his face, he gazed dejectedly at your weary form.  Finally asleep, fortunately, but your cheeks were glossy with fresh tears.  The man carefully crawled into bed behind you, carefully pulling your body into his.  He wished more than anything that he could make your pain go away.  He ran through the many years you had been together, and struggled to find a time where your sorrow was as profound as it was this evening.  His mind was constantly at war- his analytical, doctor side beginning to list specific reasons why this could be happening, and his sincere, passionate, loving husband side breaking apart reflecting over the sound of your sobs.

It could have been either of you.  But it also could’ve been both of you.  The thought was enough to finally force the tears in Law’s eyes to break free and travel down his cheeks.  Some of them plotted into your hair.

—

You awoke to the sound of whispering in your hallway outside the bedroom.  The blinds covering the window above the bed you shared with Law were pulled shut, but the sunlight still beamed through them leaving patterns on the walls and floor.  The side Law slept on was empty and freshly made.  No surprise, he left for work early in the morning after all.  You slowly sat up in bed, your head pounding.  The events of the previous evening came rushing back to you, but you felt nothing but an empty melancholy, a dark fog that hung over your brain and clouded your vision.

The door to your bedroom slowly opened.  You looked up just in time to see a very large, very fluffy cloud with four legs and two beady eyes come sprinting into your room.  Its feet ripped across the carpeted floor as It hopped on your bed with a loud huff, immediately snuggling on top of your duvet and leaning into your body for some much needed cuddles.

You mustered a weary laugh, your hands instinctively moving to the back of the dog’s neck to rub his fluffy cheeks from behind, eliciting happy grunts from the large animal.  He had his tongue out, a tiny pink blep among the sea of rich white fur.

“Bepo,” you sighed.  “You know Law doesn’t like it when you get on the bed.”

“He missed you!” called a voice from the hallway.  Spiky red hair appeared in the doorway.  “So did we, actually.  I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Shachi had, actually, woken you up, but you didn’t need to tell him that.  “No, not at all.”  You shook your head.  Bepo’s tail was wagging in your face, causing you to sputter out small strands of loose fur from your mouth.  The red-head entered your bedroom, leaving the door open.  The smell of French toast instantly wafted into the space, making your mouth water and your eyes widen.  “Is Penguin cooking?”

“Yee-up,” Shachi replied, popping his lips to enunciate the word.  “Law invited us over, if you couldn’t tell.”  He flashed a smirk.  “You got the day off, by the way.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.  “What?”

“Law called in sick for you,” the man confirmed.

You frantically reached for the night stand and grabbed your phone, tapping the screen to illuminate it.  It was almost 10:00AM, and sure enough, your alarm had been turned off.  Three texts from Law sat waiting on your screen, as well as two texts from your coworkers.

Baby~~<3

Sorry, I broke into your phone to turn your alarm off.  You get to sleep in today, I called you out sick.  I didn’t tell them anything, just that you weren’t feeling good.

Baby~~<3

Shachi and Penguin might be there when you wake up.  I did tell them a little about what happened, just so they know to give you space if you need it.

Baby~~<3

Call me if you need anything at all, I love you.

Ika-chan

I heard you called in sick today!!!  I hope you’re alright, let me know if you need anything!

Nami Swan

How r u feeling?  If u caut the flu u can blame Usopp :P

You smiled, your heart beating in your chest.  “You guys are too much sometimes.”

Shachi proudly rested his clenched fist over his sternum as a display of pride.  “Nothing is ever enough for your best friend!”  The sight made you chuckle.  

You were caught off guard by Penguin entering with a much larger platter of food than you ever expected.  He excitedly approached your bedside with a wide grin, marveling at his own work.  A bowl of mixed fruits, a plate of French toast drizzled with maple syrup and dollopped with a swirl of whipped cream, a small portion of sausage on the side, and a single unopened bottle of apple juice.  You graciously accepted the spread, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely befuddled.

“You guys know I’m not actually sick, right?” you asked, glancing at your husband’s best friends with concern.  You shooed Bepo away from getting too close to the sausage.

“We know,” Penguin clarified.  “We can treat you to a nice breakfast even when you’re not sick, though!”

You smiled, forcing down the lump that formed in your throat.  “Thank you guys, I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know what you’d do,” Shachi stated.  “You’d eat your breakfast and savor every bite!”  He stood up from your bed and clapped his hands twice, beckoning Bepo off of the bed and over to his side.  “We’ll take Bepo for a walk around the neighborhood!  Take some time for yourself!”  The two men left with your dog in tow, leaving you to stare in awe at the spread of food.

Your mind was reeling.  Law’s text informed you that he had given his two friends a brief summary of what had happened, but you didn’t really mind.  If anything, it brought you some comfort to know that you and your husband’s two closest friends understood the predicament you were currently in and were more than willing to go out of their way to support you.  You also couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Law calling you out sick for the day, putting your passcode into your phone to turn off your alarm, and making sure his friends would be there for you when you woke up.  You were beyond grateful for such an incredible support system, but just to be on the safe side…

You grabbed your phone once more, opening your text messages with Law.

Good morning baby, thank you for calling me out.  Im feeling a bit better, Shachi and Penguin made me breakfast.  I hope you didnt give them too much grief ;3; Take care of yourself today, I’ll see you when you get home.  I love you!!! <333

With your breakfast completed, you slowly trudged to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower.  The sight of your negative pregnancy test filled you with nausea, but you pushed past the feeling and turned on the water.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #fem reader #law x reader #x reader #reader insert #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw pregnancy loss #im losing you

[harlowcomehome]

Love somebody like you:

Gif by @harlowgifs

⚠️: Intoxication.

Jack hadn’t responded to your texts in a few days, which was abnormal considering the two of you had been inseparable the last few months.

You had only worked with Chris and Neelam for a few months when Jack's entire world imploded, and he needed an unbiased point of view.

He gravitated towards you immediately, the two of you spending massive amounts of time together.

It was purely platonic, at least on Jack's end. He had been going through an emotional and rocky divorce and you had been his shoulder to cry on both metaphorically and physically.

You knew it was wrong to be attached to him, especially at a time when he was so vulnerable but you’d take whatever attention he was willing to give you.

You were starting to worry, especially when you showed up to the office and realized that nobody had heard from him all weekend.

He always checked in especially when it came to work-related commitments, which was something he rarely if ever put on the back burner.

“Maggie said he isn’t even answering her calls” Neelam sighed, looking to Chris for suggestions.

“We know he’s alive because he’s been using his credit cards” You chimed in, it was your job to organize and control his finances.

“I think you should stop by his place” Chris turned to you, Neelam nodding in agreement. The two of them thought you were good for Jack, knowing he didn’t confide in a lot of people and realizing how quickly he seemed to trust you.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re basically his best friend” Neelam shrugged as she shuffled through some legal documents for the umpteenth time.

You hated that strings of words “best friend” when it came to Jack. What did that even mean? You might be HIS best friend but he was more than that to you.

You left the office immediately trying his phone for the third time today, and getting his voicemail box, making the pit of your stomach ache.

“Come on, Jack” you sucked your teeth before ordering an Uber to his place, the drive wasn’t far from the office.

You had wondered what was going on with him, the last time you saw one another he had been seemingly doing better.

When you got to his apartment building, you could hear music blaring from inside his place.

His neighbor Janet was just arriving home, dressed in her white doctor coat. She eyed you up and down before recognizing you, and giving you a soft smile.

“He’s been like that for a few days now.”

You thanked her for the information before pushing your way inside, unlocking his door with the emergency key he had given you a few weeks back.

His house was in shambles, cereal bowls and pizza boxes everywhere. You could tell he had company and likely a lot of it, he was snoring on the couch, in a tank top that was stained, likely with pizza sauce and mucus from all his tears.

Your heart broke, knowing this wasn’t like him at all. You cleaned up as best as you could without making much noise, finally shutting off his music that was far too loud in the first place before you walked over to him.

You gently shook him, startling him awake as he instinctively wiped the drool from his face.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He sat up quickly on the couch, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What’re you doing?” You laughed at his wide eyes and startled facial expression, his mind barely realizing how you could’ve got inside.

“I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.” He was embarrassed to admit it, realizing now that his entire place was in shambles. His curls were matted and greasy and he had a stench of body odor and booze radiating off of him.

“Go take a shower and then we’ll talk?” You had this calming aura about you that he found magnetic, meaning he was happy to agree.

He got up and went to his primary bedroom to take a shower while you filled trash bags up with empty food containers.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom he was in clean clothes and had enough cologne on to wilt a small garden. He was embarrassed at the state you found him in, hoping you’d forget it soon enough.

“You didn’t have to help me. I would’ve done it” he scratched the back of his neck as he realized the three giant trash bags full of trash.

“Respectfully? Shut up” you giggled, making him loosen up too as he matched your energy with a chuckle.

He nervously tied the trash bags shut, knowing what your follow-up question would be. The two of you had agreed on a phrase, letting you know if he had interacted with his ex-wife recently.

“Did you relapse?” You avoided his eye contact knowing his emotional icy eyes would affect you.

“No, I mean- sort of” he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Truthfully he knew how you felt about him, he knew that you were falling for him but he also knew he wasn’t in the position to be in a committed relationship and he selfishly didn’t want to lose your companionship.

Your breathing changed, you knew you'd have to bite back tears as he explained the last few days in detail. You turned to face him, faking a smile.

“Lay it on me.” You poured yourself a glass of wine, following him to the couch that desperately needed to be febreezed.

“Can you pour me one too?” Jack asked noticing you had only pulled one glass out of the cabinet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumbled and he silently agreed before taking a seat on the couch.

Jack went into detail about how his ex-wife showed up Friday evening and spoke about how she and him spent that night christening every room in his new apartment.

You winced knowing just how awful she had been to him the last few months. He had cried on your lap too many times, and you were frustrated that he entertained her yet again.

You tried not to outright show your disapproval, but he felt it anyway.

“I know, I know” he sighed, sitting back on the couch. “But that’s completely done now” he reassured you, reaching for your knee and giving it a light squeeze.

“Didn’t you move here so she didn’t have your address?” You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, knowing you were likely leaving sooner than expected.

“What are you? My mother?” He laughed, partly joking but with a slight tone of annoyance.

“No but speaking of she’s been worried sick about you.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing at how this conversation had taken a turn. His family was always a touchy subject.

“Tell her I’m alive, I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” He yawned, something about his demeanor changed and you could tell he was irritated with you.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls?” You’d admit that it came out a little more hot-tempered than you initially wanted it to.

“Well I mean- on Saturday we just went right back to hating one another so I threw a party here and I’ve been tired. What does it even matter?” he was defensive.

“A party?”

“I had to get over her somehow” he shrugged, pushing your buttons purposefully now.

You felt the feelings of intense jealousy creeping up on you. You channeled it into disapproval, standing up and handing him his dead cell phone that was on his messy glass coffee table.

“You might want to charge that” you bitterly replied, looking for your purse that you had set aside as you walked in.

“Are you mad that it was her? Or mad that it isn’t you?” Jack staggered to his feet, swaying a bit.

You were frozen, wondering if you had heard him correctly. You swiftly turned to him, tracing his facial expressions with your eyes.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” He chuckled, and you realized he had to still be pumped with liquid courage from the night before, this wasn’t like him.

“Shut up. You’re being an asshole” your voice trembled, tears fighting to escape you.

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with me” he shrugged, a smirk spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with you. Why would I be in love with someone like you?” You finally found your purse and stood by the door getting ready to leave.

He was taken aback by that comment, his ego bruised from his fresh divorce.

“I- I mean. Are you not?”

“I’d never love someone like you” you lied. You lied with everything you had, knowing you had to be convincing as you slammed the door shut to his apartment and burst into tears in his hallway.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for trying to give my husband a bed time?

My [31F] husband [34M] has a horrible issue of not coming to bed. He usually falls asleep to the TV in the living room to ambient music or some YouTube talk show, usually sports or comics related.

I tend to go to bed pretty regularly around 10:30 or 11:00 as I need to wake up around 7 to take out the dog and get ready to commute. He doesn't need to be up until later so I don't mind that I go to bed alone, but I really hate being alone all night. It has felt constant that I wake up at 3:00am or 4:00 for the restroom and find he hasn't come into the bedroom. Something that's important to me is sharing the bed, and I have told him this, and that it makes me feel hurt and a little unloved. I feel like this was not a problem until just a couple of years ago so I don't know what changed.

He claims he needs the noise to go to sleep, as it has been his habit since before he met me to have a TV or radio on. I can NOT sleep with light or noise. Earplugs and face masks are uncomfortable. I was firm on no television in the bedroom when we moved in together. We have a white noise machine and that doesn't bother me too much. He's the kind of guy that can hit the pillow and pass out really quick though.

I asked him to at least set an alarm for 1:45 or so...even though half the time he is asleep by the time I take the dog out at night and get ready for bed. He won't come to bed even if he's already asleep that early and I don't know why. It's frustrating. There's nongood answer when I ask. He came to bed a couple of times with the alarm but then suddenly wouldn't anymore. Not sure if he is sleepily snoozing it or what. He keeps promising he will come to bed at a normal time, but won't. It feels like he's just constantly lying to me and I hate it. I feel like it's also contributing to a poor sex life but that's another story.

He claims he doesn't like getting up and having to go back to sleep but...neither do I. I shouldn't have to get him every night/early morning. I sleep lightly and not well in general which is why I would prefer him to come in by 2 or even earlier. I wake up when he does come in anyway and sometimes it's very hard to get back to sleep. Earlier would allow me more time to get back to deep sleep. Having to walk around the house at 3am makes it even harder on me.

He's mad because I'm trying to change his habits and "who he is". We fought tonight because he fell asleep on the couch extra early, maybe 9:30pm-ish. So I told him to just come to bed because he is already sleeping. Twice. He wouldn't, and of course the second I walked away he just fell asleep again, just like he always does.

He feels like I'm trying to control him and change him but I just want my partner to be in bed with me and I don't know what else to do at this point. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[agentmarcuspike]

frankie morales x dominatrix (+ ex!reader)

synopsis: after breaking up with you on a self sabotaging whim, frankie finds his way back into familiar arms to cope content warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction, sub!frankie, destructive and avoidant behavior, sex work, joi (jerk-off instructions), masturbation (m), degredation kink, vague descriptions of dissociation, dom's name is jessica (after my hero @hier--soir), cum, some pain and tears related to jerking off (stop if it hurts, guys!), military related trauma, very brief attempt at aftercare word count: ~ 2.7k a/n: my first frankie fic! thank you, han @swiftispunk, for proof reading af, for encouraging me to conquer my p0rn shame, and of course for writing such an inspiring sub!frankie. we love him (and u)

Frankie knew it wasn’t fair to you. He knew he’d cause you pain by ending things after twelve amazing, promising months. But compared to the inevitable pain he was doomed to bring everyone he loved and cared for, it was nothing. 

He’d been clean for a mere week when you met, and the rush you gave him had been enough to replace the rush of a high. For a while. But when the withdrawals and unrest returned, and the butterflies could no longer keep the cravings at bay, you’d held him through the tremors, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, and at no point had you judged him for his past or his way of coping. You’d loved him. 

And you still did. 

Did he love you too? Most likely. Probably. Yes. Which was why he had done what he had. Because you deserved someone better for you. Someone without his history, his trauma, his wounds. No matter how much he loved you for tending to them, you shouldn’t have had to. And that’s why he’d left, on this gloomy Sunday evening, with no other explanation than, “I’m sorry.”

It’s also why Frankie finds himself roaming the chilly city, street lights blurry, all noises softened by a thick layer of apathy. He has no idea how long he’s been walking, no idea whether he’s tired or not. He feels like a shadow of himself, with no wants or needs, no ambition or goals. Just a body moving, constantly moving, to avoid having to think or feel. But as a bicycle quickly swooshes past him on the sidewalk, almost knocking him over, he stops in his tracks and looks around. 

He finds he’s made his way to the other side of town. The air is thicker here somehow, heavier with desperation than in the area he'd tricked himself into thinking he'd belonged in for the past couple years, amongst white picket fences and successful neighbors.

Here, the atmosphere is familiar. People seeking shelter between dumpsters, some asleep, some chasing relief in a fashion Frankie is all too acquainted with. A single buzz goes off in his head when the urge comes back to him. It would be so easy. He knows where to get it, knows how it works. Where to go, who to see, what to say. It would give him the energy to do whatever he could to keep this heartache away. 

So he sets his legs back in motion. At the end of the street, they make a conscious right, a left, and then his mind is wandering again, off in a different direction than his feet. And then his feet stop. He’s standing outside of a regal looking building. Off-white stone façade, adorned with French balconies and decorations, art deco mascarons staring down at him with empty eyes.

Two white columns frame the heavy front door he’s walked through so many, many times. Not since you, though. Frankie has not had the need to visit this place since you first locked eyes with him. 

Without a second thought, before he can change his mind, he rings the doorbell and he’s buzzed inside. With every heavy step up the marble stairs, echoing off the shiny walls, the lights in Frankie’s brain turn off one by one. As he reaches the fourth floor, he’s merely a shell of himself, a puppet on a pair of floppy strings, longing for someone to take control.

He stands still on the landing for a minute, breathing slowly, deliberately, waiting for his arm to rise and knock on its own. It doesn’t, so he orders his hand to place three quick raps on the door.

A few seconds later, a woman comes out. Her hair is tied up, haphazardly moved out of her face and neck with an elegant claw clip. The hand she’s not using to hold the door open is placed in front of her, fingers in a fist clutching the two sides of a silk robe together, careful not to expose more of herself than what’s already poking out from underneath the short covering.

“Frankie…?” she asks, brows raised in surprise. 

He gives her a nod and a weak, “Hi” in response, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. “Jessica,” he mutters. 

The woman takes a step over the doorstep, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

“I didn’t expect you! We didn’t have an appointment today, did we?” Her voice is slightly panicked, worried she’s forgotten, her eyes darting quickly down to the non-existent watch on her wrist.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, opening and closing his fidgety hands. “I just…” His voice cracks, he swallows and tries again. 

“I just need two minutes.” 

Something in his core refuses to let him look at the woman in front of him. 

He knows her well, knows she’d never judge him. She’s seen him in much more vulnerable positions than this, and yet, something about being so emotionally affected in front of her has him staring at the floor.

She leans down, bending at the waist and tilting her head to find his eyes, making him look at her. When he does, his voice is weak, but assured. He knows what he needs. “Please.”

The plea is enough. Jessica gives him a subtle nod before stepping aside and letting Frankie in. 

He automatically kicks off his shoes and parks them by the door. Straightening back up, arms fixed by his sides, he awaits further instruction.  

“Clothes off, sweetie,” Jessica commands softly. “And wait right here for me. Be right back.” She disappears from the hallway and into the living room, leaving Frankie alone to undress. He makes quick work of it, not bothering with all the buttons, careless about whether they end up inside out or not. 

He sheds his clothes like he wants to shed his skin and grow a new one. A brand new layer, thicker than the one he has, one free of marks from your bruising touch.

On autopilot, he drops to his knees on the tiled hallway floor, hands clasped behind his back, easily and comfortably slipping back into the familiar cadence of compliance. 

The hard cold surface keeps him from crashing into the floor, from falling through it, by burrowing into his knees, stone against bone. He forces all of his attention to the sensation; the dull ache in his kneecaps, the strain in his thighs. The feeling of staying in position despite the discomfort fills him with a sense of pride and control only certain things can give him. One of them is playing the part of soldier, fighting on someone else’s behalf. The other is this; surrendering completely to someone else’s needs and wishes. 

Jessica is back a quick minute later. 

“Come in, Frankie.” 

Hands on the floor for support, he rises and follows her. 

The room isn’t new to him. He’s seen it before, but only in passing, on his way to her bedroom, to the bathroom and back again. But he’s never spent time there, or had the opportunity to really see her private space. It’s a stark contrast to her cold and minimal bedroom. The space isn’t big, so the green velvet couch placed in the middle of the room instead of against a wall is a bold choice. To the left and right of the sofa sit two small side tables, the floor space covered by a massive persian rug. 

Jessica gestures to this rug as she sits, legs crossed and arm thrown casually over the back of the sofa, causing her robe to cleave at the top, showing off her clavicles. 

Frankie finds his place in the middle of the carpet. He should feel vulnerable, fully naked in a new environment. But Jessica’s mild authority, untroubled by the situation, keeps him calm. 

“You just need two minutes, you said?” 

Frankie nods. 

“Very well, then. Two minutes is what you get,” she declares. And then, demanding:

“Kneel.”

And Frankie does. One knee at a time touches the soft carpet beneath him. His hands come down to support him before he sits back on his heels, head bowed, only looking up at her through his lashes when he hears her shuffle.

From the side table to her right, she picks up a round egg shaped gadget and turns the top and bottom halves in opposite directions. For a second he thinks it’s gonna vibrate, until he hears the ticking. Jessica puts the kitchen timer back down on the side table.

“Those are your precious seconds, big boy. You better start touching yourself.”

Frankie’s hand automatically shoots down to palm himself, already half hard from excitement, but seeing his hesitant movements, she clarifies.

“Two minutes to come for me, or you’re not gonna be allowed to come in a very…,” She drags out the pause between the words, “...Very long time. Understand?”

Frankie nods. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is hoarse with anticipation. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” She gives him a wink. “Now go on, make yourself come for me.”

Her command, combined with the ticking sound of time passing, has him quickly tugging at himself, eroticizing anything and everything he can see around him to get there; Jessica’s toned and shiny calves, the way a stray piece of hair has escaped her claw clip and softly caresses her cheekbone. His hand is tight around his cock as he fists himself frantically. Precum starts to gather at his tip, glistening in the soft lighting, and he smears it over his length.

Jessica spreads her legs on the couch in front of him, making Frankie groan with impatience, but she quickly places a hand in her lap, blocking his view.

“Look at you. So needy, so whiny.”

Frankie moans, not meeting her gaze, the quick pumps of his wrist making him sore and frustrated and he can feel something building, but he’s not quite there yet.

“I haven’t even undressed and you’re all worked up.” Her voice is soft and obnoxiously affectionate. “How pathetic.” 

He finally looks up at her face, his sad eyes begging for more; Frankie wants her to look at him too. Wants her to see him. But she doesn’t pay him any mind, she’s only eyeing the ticking clock. 

“One minute now,” she tsks. “It’s all the time you deserve, to be honest.”

And now she looks at him. Her gaze is sharp and domineering, but there’s something round behind it. Something in the shape of worry. It quickly disappears when she speaks again.

“You’re not worth any more of my attention,” she continues. “A disgrace, that’s what you are. Just a dirty, filthy masturbator.” 

As she shifts slightly in her seat, her robe slips off of one of her shoulders, exposing more of her skin and chest. Frankie swallows harshly at the sight. 

Mouth agape, tongue poking out to wet his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the command, his one objective: come. The soft hairs of the carpet are starting to feel like knives, boring into his skin, a welcome pain were it not distracting him from the task at hand. He shifts ever so slightly from side to side, relieving his knees from the hurt in turn.

Jessica must sense his discomfort, because she purrs, 

“You’re not gonna come all over my carpet, are you?”

Frankie shakes his head frantically and begins to walk on his knees towards the shiny hardwood floor. 

“I’d have to make you clean it up,” Jessica continues.

Tears are pushing behind Frankie’s eyes as he nears release. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth, trying to block out the timer’s insistent ticks. 

“10 seconds, now,” she informs him. He squeezes his cock even harder, pumping himself with short quick strokes. Blood rushes through his ears, muffling Jessica’s voice as she counts down.

“Five, four…”

He’s outside of his body. His breath hitches.

“Three, two–”

As the room fills with the shrill of the alarm, Frankie’s cock pulses in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot cum onto the floor. He keeps going, using his own spend as lubrication, choking his hard length until he’s shuddering, hunched over, sweaty and teary eyed. 

Frankie’s body slants forward. He steadies himself with his hands on his thighs, blinking slowly as he concentrates on catching his breath, returning his body. Jessica is patient. She waits until his chest fills and empties itself of air at a reasonable pace, and then she stands up and walks towards him. 

His head shoots up when she reaches him, but she places herself behind him, a comforting hand on each of his shoulders, and bends down to kiss his head.

“Stay,” she whispers as she gets back up and moves to leave the room, Frankie left on the floor with his thoughts and his mess. He wonders if he should clean up–even if he had managed to avoid the carpet–but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Jessica is back. She’s carrying his things, his shirt hanging over her arm as she works to turn his other clothes right side out. 

Slowly, carefully, she helps him back into what he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. One hand through the sleeve. Then the other. Stepping into his underwear, then his jeans, one leg at a time. She saves his hat for last. Before placing it over his messy head of curls, she cups his face with the palm of her hand. 

She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips barely brushing his skin. Frankie blinks. Accepting softness from Jessica isn’t new to him, but the words she gives him after take him by surprise.

“I’m proud of you, Frankie.” 

Her eyes are earnest, open, genuine. He almost finds it in him to believe her, and allows himself to lean into her touch, resting his heavy head on her palm for a second shorter than he’d like to, breaking away when the darkness behind his closed eyelids makes way for pictures of you holding him, him leaning back on you. 

He quickly reassesses, telling himself this is your job, that he’s a customer, that he hadn’t even made an appointment. He should tip you at least 200%. Shaky hands dig into the pockets of his jeans, pulling out no more than two twenties. 

Swearing under his breath, Frankie starts to panic. 

“I– I didn’t…” he begins. “It was so spontaneous–”

She shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.” Her smile is heartfelt, which embarasses him even more. “I’m just glad you came.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, I wanna pay. I mean, speaking of coming, let me at least wipe my cum off your floor.” He gestures to the sticky mess slowly coagulating on her floorboards. 

Jessica snickers.

“Do you do the dishes when you’ve eaten out too?” She raises her brows, and he chuckles, shaking his head quietly. 

“It’s all part of the service, baby. Come on, let me walk you out.”

On the doorstep, he gives Jessica a quick kiss goodbye. He thanks her again, and she thanks him back, though for what he’s not sure. Visiting? Choosing her? The company? Either way, he takes her gratitude and shoves it in his pocket with the twenties. When he reaches the lobby, passing a wall full of mailboxes, he quickly locates hers, and swiftly shoves the two bills into the mouth of it. 

Frankie’s feet start moving down the street, and his head absentmindedly follows. His skull is no less heavy, the feelings just as painful, and pictures of you still project onto the insides of his eyelids every time he blinks. But a lightness now coats his mind. A sense of victory. He resisted the easy way out. He chose to stay sober, even though he could’ve so easily gone back to his old ways of burying any unwanted feelings in torrents of snow. 

And with that feeling of achievement, of growth and gain, he realizes where his feet are taking him. The tall buildings turn into houses, the shop windows into white picket fences. In the distance he makes out the house you’ve made a home together. He prays you’ll open the door. That you’ll give him some time. He just needs two minutes.

i have a feeling tumblr is limiting my posts or something, and i don't have a taglist, so here are some absolutely no pressure tags for people i think might enjoy this/who have liked my previous fics?? let me know if i'm wrong!!

@joelsversion @joelscruff @missredherring @iamasaddie @toxicrecs @eupheme @sweetercalypso @mrsmando @lunitareads @amanitacowboy @tieronecrush @psychedelic-ink @perotovar @thetriumphantpanda @joelsgreys @undercoverpena @pedgito @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #my writing #pedro pascal characters

[snapscube]

hi penny!! i wanted to ask if you've ever considered tweaking the visual aspect of midnight snap? like dimming prolonged instances of brightness, stuff like that? whenever i put on my tv for background noise at night, i dim it WAY down, but i fear pure white is still very bright lol ^^; no pressure to make changes, was just curious!

i can't say that is super high priority but i'll keep it in mind in case i have the room to do so! the show is not necessarily designed for TV listening so yknow, you can't exactly please everyone. but we all got our own ways of doing things and first and foremost i want it to be as helpful as possible to people.

on a related note: making even just the first 2 episodes of this show has already taught me a lot about the experience of putting a product out there that leans a little more towards being a service than pure entertainment haha! it's been a great reminder of like... at the end of the day so many people are going to experience your creation in ways you never intended in the slightest and have zero control over. it's neat!

[myadhdchronicles]

Navigating Life with ADHD: My Journey, Tips, and Hacks

Living with ADHD has its unique challenges, but it's also a journey filled with creativity, resilience, and countless small victories. I've learned to embrace my ADHD and discovered some invaluable tips, hints, and hacks along the way. In this blog, I'll share my personal insights and strategies that have made life with ADHD more manageable and even exciting.

1. Embrace Your ADHD:

Accepting your ADHD is the first step to managing it effectively. It's a part of who you are, and that's okay.

Learn about your specific strengths and weaknesses associated with ADHD. You might be exceptionally creative or have hyperfocus superpowers!

2. Create a Structured Routine:

Establishing a daily routine can provide a sense of stability and predictability.

Use digital calendars, planners, and reminders to keep track of appointments, tasks, and deadlines. I particularly like Sunsama, it is very ADHD-friendly. Habitica is good too, it is a gamified digital calendar that engages the ADHD brain much better than regular planners.

3. Prioritize and Set Goals:

ADHD brains can easily get overwhelmed by too many tasks. Prioritize your to-do list and break tasks into smaller, manageable goals.

Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small.

4. Minimize Distractions:

Create a dedicated workspace that's free from distractions.

Consider using noise-canceling headphones, fidget toys, or white noise to maintain focus.

Learn what kind of workspace works best for you, it's not the same for every ADHD brain.

5. Time Management Techniques:

Use the Pomodoro Technique (working in short, focused bursts with breaks) to stay on track.

Set timers for tasks to prevent hyperfocus and procrastination.

6. Medication and Therapy:

Consult a medical professional to discuss medication options.

Cognitive-behavioral therapy can help you develop coping strategies and improve executive functioning skills, but know your own ADHD brain because it does not work for all of them.

7. Mindfulness and Meditation:

Mindfulness practices can help you stay present and reduce anxiety.

Try meditation to improve concentration and self-awareness.

Meditation and mindfulness do not have to be the typical sit still and clear your-mind things they are for non-ADHD brains, for a lot of ADHD brains we need to move so something like knitting/crocheting, going for a walk, or sitting outside in nature with your dog are our forms of mindfulness and meditation.

8. Stay Organized:

Use color coding, labels, and file systems to keep your physical and digital spaces organized.

Daily checklists can be a game-changer.

Know your own ADHD brain and make your system one that works for your brain or organization will continue to be a struggle.

9. Don't Fear Mistakes:

It's okay to make mistakes. Learn from them and keep moving forward.

Perfectionism can be your enemy; aim for progress, not perfection.

Learn to let good enough be good enough, perfection does not exist.

10. Get Adequate Sleep and Exercise:

Prioritize good sleep hygiene; it can significantly impact your ADHD symptoms.

Regular physical activity can boost focus and mood.

11. Utilize ADHD-Related Apps:

Explore ADHD-focused apps designed to help with time management, organization, and focus.

Some popular options include Todoist, Forest, Trello, Clarify ADHD, Sunsama, and Fabulous.

12. Seek Support and Community:

Connect with others who have ADHD through support groups or online forums.

Share your experiences and learn from the journeys of others.

Living with ADHD doesn't mean you're destined to struggle. By embracing your uniqueness and applying these tips, hints, and hacks, you can take control of your life. ADHD has its challenges, but it can also be a source of creativity, innovation, and unique perspectives. Remember, you're not alone, and there's a vibrant community of people who understand and support you on this journey. Embrace your ADHD, and together, we can navigate the world with success and resilience. See you next time, ADHD Team!

#adhd #adhd brain #adhd problems #neurodivergence #actually adhd #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #neurodiverse stuff #adhd things

[creweemmaeec11]

Dark Horse Painted White PT 2

Part 1

When morning finally came around, villain walked out of their room to find the hero still sound asleep on their couch. They had changed into their pyjamas, and neatly folded their dirty clothes on top of their suitcase, pushing into the side to take up as little room as they could with their things. A perfect guest.

The villain found themselves unable to take their eyes off the hero's sleeping form.

Villain hated having them here. This was their space, their safe haven. Having their enemy invade such a sanctuary made their instincts flare. Hero was *danger*.

Not that the hero looked particularly dangerous at the moment.

They were sound asleep, chest rising and falling to the soft sounds of their breathing. They looked so peaceful.

Vulnerable.

Villain clenched their fists and turned to head into the kitchen. They couldn't just kill hero; it would only expose them. They had to just play along and pray it would be over soon.

It had to be over soon. They couldn't stand this for much longer.

One night was already enough to wear on their nerves. They'd barely slept last night, mind racing with the possibilities. They hadn't left anything incriminating in the living room, had they? They usually kept all work-related things at their hideout, but that didn't mean the occasional thing didn't find its way home. What if supervillain ratted them out? Would a hero believe them?

Villain was too caught up in their own thoughts and twisting stomach to notice the half-asleep hero that had slinked into the doorway.

"Good Morning," the hero greeted pleasantly, though it was clear they were still not awake.

Villain flinched at the noise, spoon clattering against the pan they'd been stirring. They shot an annoyed glance over their shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" The others yelped, holding up their hands in a show of peace.

They looked and sounded so genuinely apologetic.

Villain sighed, frustration easing out of their shoulders as they rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing, "s'fine," they muttered, gritting their teeth slightly.

"That smells delicious. What are you making?" Hero questioned, nosing into the room slowly. Across the kitchen, four eyes followed their every move as the two dogs lay on the tile.

"Omelettes," Villain replied plainly. "You can sit at the table; they will be ready in a few minutes,"

"Wait, you made one for me?" The hero asked in surprise.

In all honesty, the villain was surprised they were making the hero breakfast too, but if they didn't, hero would have to get something to eat themselves.

This way, villain could oversee everything. An extra layer of control. They didn't like the idea of hero tending to themselves in *their* kitchen.

"Yes," they replied, not bothering to turn around as they plated the newest omelette.

"Thank you very much," hero said, overly polite and conciliatory, "That's really nice of you. Can I help set the table? I can also help do the dishes afterward-"

"If it pleases you," villain cut them off dismissively, "the cutlery is in the drawer next to the fridge"

"Got it!" Hero chirped, making their way over.

Villain hated this. They hated how mundane and domestic this felt. It made their skin crawl and their stomach twist. Yesterday they'd been robbing one of the cities largest banks and today they were cooking breakfast for a hero in their own house. They tried to swallow the feeling as best they could. They just had to tough it out.

They platted the second omelette and flicked off the stove.

"Nova, Queen," they whistled, and both dogs immediately shot up, "bowls,"

Hero watched in awe as both dogs went and picked up their food bowls, carrying them over in their mouths and hopping up with two paws to place the bowl on the counter before dropping down and sitting.

"Good girls," villain praised, putting some scrambled eggs into each bowl before putting them down on the ground and signalling them to begin eating.

"Wow, that's incredible," hero commented in awe as they finished placing the cutlery on the table.

Villain swallowed the sarcastic, snide comment that nearly slipped out. The hero sounded so *genuine*. Ugh. "Thanks," they muttered uncertainly, laying hero's plate and omelette on the table in front of them.

They hesitated for a second before caving and sitting down across the table, unable to find an excuse not to. "You can help yourself to any drink you want. There's still coffee left in the machine," they said almost begrudgingly.

"Oh, thank you! Water is fine!" The hero assuaged, filling their glass from the tap.

They really were trying to be the perfect guest, and that somehow made villain feel like they hated them that much more. Heros weren't perfect *anything*. It was just more showmanship for the press, or in this case, them. *Fake.* It had to be.

They opted not to reply, continuing to eat in silence.

"This is delicious," hero complimented after taking their first bite.

"I'm sure you've had far better before," the criminal deflected, holding back the scoff that was crawling up their throat.

Their guest furrowed their brows in confusion, "what do you mean?"

"That it- never mind,' the villain replied, continuing to pick at their barely touched plate, "what is your schedule today?"

"Uhm, well," the hero began, looking down at their lap awkwardly, "I was just about to ask you the same question,"

"What my schedule is?"

"And mine. My schedule is sort of whatever yours is. I've been tasked with protecting you, which basically means just sort of following you around,"

"*excuse me?*" villain replied in a tone that was something close to horrified, eyes widening as their spine straightened, "you plan to just-"

"Don't worry! You won't even know I'm there I promise! I-"

Suddenly, villain pushed themselves up from the table, "I need to go reschedule some- everything" they said. The two dogs, who had just finished eating, stood up on cue as well.

"Wait! Really, you don't-" hero began, jumping up and extending a hand after them. Immediately, both dogs began growling making the hero freeze.

"Easy you two" Villain said as they stepped to the side, "and save your breath hero, it's not happening,"

"But-"

"*No,*"

With that, they left, leaving a very guilty and uncertain feeling hero alone in the kitchen.

#writing #NOT A PR0MPT #Hero x villain #villain x hero #Heros and villains #heroes and villains #hero x villain snippet #hero #villain #hero x villain drabble #hero x villain snippets #snippet #ficlet #short story #snippets #my writing #my work #creative writing #Crewes writing #writers on tumblr #writblr #drabble #story #writer #writers of tumblr #stories #Crewe

[autisticgirliesbracket]

What makes Mabel Pines from Gravity Falls the autistic girlie ever of all time? Here's what the people have to say:

Mabel-related asks/reblogs: x This post will be updated after each round!

Image ID in alt text and under the readmore.

[Image ID. White slide with a screenshot of Mabel in the top right corner, she is dancing. She is surrounded by text boxes which read,

"wears a different sweater every single day in SUMMER. also she's loud and very silly in situations where it might not be appropriate, says whatever's on her mind, struggles with change, retreats into her sweater and rocks back and forth when she's upset, doesn't always realize how her actions impact others, has high empathy and a hard time saying "no" because she doesn't want other people to be upset, etc etc"

"One of her main story arcs is resistance to change particularly when it comes to her being very attached to her brother. She is very social and friendly but is often "too loud" or generally misses social cues - also tends to spit out random information to people she is talking to. The friends she does make are people who thing her eccentric nature is charming! upon meeting a girl with a lizard and a girl who fashioned herself fork-hands she whispers "ive found my people". She hyperfocuses on things very often! Like the sock puppet episode where she spends days producing a puppet show, or her crush of the week, or a boyband. She if VERY much the "oh she isn't autistic lol, shes just girly" type of gal that people dismiss often because shes social so "she cant POSSIBLY be ND". when she is emotionally overhwelmed she "goes to sweater town" aka sinks into her sweater to remove sensory imput from the outside world. also she has trouble empathasing with people at times especially if it comes into conflict with something shes hyperfixating on and can often have trouble controlling emotional bursts as a result of those conflicts. she also adores being creative, colorful stuff, knitting. i frankly think shes is autistic AND had adhd. i love her to death and i think a lot of her conflicts in the show could be interpreted/understood in a way thats like "oh thats an undiagnosed autistic kid dealing with stuff". her relationship with her brother is also interesting cause i think both of them are autistic and have learned to support/help each other in a way other ppl dont understand"

"She has tendency to obsess over things (such as her crush of the week or her pet pig), and clearly enjoys the sensory stimulation of lots of bright colours and patterns, and strong, sweet flavours. Her social skills also leave a little to be desired, as she's often very forward, quite loud and overly enthusiastic. Mabel is also quite change averse, as well as averse to the idea of having to 'grow up' and act more mature, which becomes a running theme throughout the show, as she tries to hold onto her childhood."

"Constantly wearing sweaters even in summer (literally only ever takes one off on-screen when she's made fun of for wearing it, and even then she ties it around her waist instead of tossing it), immediately bonds with two girls who are weirdos (affectionate dw) who do things like tape forks to their fingers in order to eat popcorn without getting butter on their hands, obsessed w/ bright colors and the 80's aesthetic, loves to make weird noises, I could go on"

"She wears sweaters every day (different ones in different colors, same style). She’s sometimes easily distracted, but tends to hyperfocus on a goal once she has it. When she’s sad or scared she goes to “sweater town” (pulling her head, arms, and knees under her sweater)"

"Knitting is her special interest to the point that she has a different sweater every day. She purposefully makes friends with everyone, ignoring social cues. She stims a lot by doing jazz hands and big movements. When she's very upset, she rocks back and forth and hids in an oversized sweater. She takes promises very seriously and always tries to see the best in people. Last but certainly not least, she has a whole episode dedicated to how "weird" she is with the ultimate conclusion being that unconventional, out of the box thinking is good."

"I know everyone hcs her as ADHD but also LISTEN...she has so much autism to me. She has a special interest in crafting, she tends to let her emotions override logical thinking when she's passionate about something, she just means so much to me as a former weird girl and since I am also autistic, I love projecting <3 Also you know she makes her own sweaters 1) because it's fun but also 2) maybe she struggled to find sweaters that weren't bad texture-wise so she decided to take up sewing/crocheting and made all her own clothes with a special yarn after that."

"i am not autistic but all my autistic friends love her and say she has autistic girl swag"

"it's mabel. all of that family has autism in spades and she is no exception. look at her. look at sweater town. come on" End ID.]

#autistic girlies bracket #autistic girlie masterpost #gravity falls #mabel pines

[lackablazeical]

💜💉Donnie Hamato💉💜

Specific trigger warnings -

Animal abuse/cruelty/death/experimentation/consumption, sensory meltdowns, unethical experimentation, medical malpractice, objectification, sadism, murder, violence, heavy gore, minor/moderate body horror, needles, blades, electrocution

Specific boundaries w/ this character -

Do not ship Donnie unless it is a QPR and you ask for permission.

General info -

Donnie's birthday is October 28th. He is a Scorpio ♏️

Donnie's love languages are Gifts and Acts of Service.

Donnie is Aromantic/Asexual. He identifies as Voidpunk, with his gender relating to robots, spiders, bugs, and needles.

Donnie has ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

Donnie has Autism.

Personality traits -

Donnie is sadistic, anti-social, controlling, intelligent, protective, innovative, practical, apathetic, logical, and determined.

Donnie enjoys seeing others in pain, especially if he deems them as weaker. While he enjoys the sound of things screaming in pain, he dislikes the sound of crying. Donnie is the most likely to stretch out any torture he is doing on his subject for an extended period of time.

Donnie is anti-social, and doesn't care to talk to people outside of his family and Ishida. Any other communication is considered a burden to him, and he is always short and curt.

Donnie is a control freak, and wants everyone and everything to bow to his every command. He hates when his things are broken as well. He will lash out if not listened to, typically at Ishida.

Donnie is extremely protective of his loved ones and his things. He constantly tracks them and will do everything in his power to keep them healthy and working.

Donnie is the main tech guy, and is always constantly improving his inventions and research. He has security all throughout the Lair, tracking systems for all of his family, an extremely advanced battleshell, and more.

Donnie is extremely determined, bordering on stubborn. He never gives up on a project once he has started it, no matter how many sleepless nights it takes.

Important details -

His prosthetics -

Donnie's prosthetics are all made by his own hands and scrap he's found. He's always reworking them to make them better.

They are waterproof, fireproof, and bullet resistant.

Donnie rarely takes off his prosthetics, only when completely necessary, such as upkeep or when he is going to be submerged in water for a long period of time.

Donnie's hearing aids have multiple volume sessions, from complete mute, to white noise, to regular volume, etc.

His hearing aids also have fins. Those both allow Donnie to connect to wifi/internet, and they are sensors to detect new people, objects around him, danger, etc. They also react to how he is feeling. The fins will retract if his hearing aids are muted, off, or charging.

His blindness/hearing loss/amputations -

Donnie's hearing loss was gradual. It started when he was 8 and was fully gone by time he was 13. It was caused from a mix of explosions, too-loud music, and lack of ear protection around loud machinery.

Donnie fully lost his hearing in a land-mine accident in the lair games at 13.

Donnie's left knee was severely damaged in the same accident, AKA his leg below the knee was completely blown off. Donnie ended up being able to reattach it, as he was too emotionally connected to leave it behind.

Domnie lost his right finger at 12 years old from a broken bench saw flying at his face. He got his eye scarred/lost vision in it in the same accident, when the blade subsequently lodged into his head.

His relationship with Big Mama -

Donnie dislikes Big Mama, but also deeply wants Big Mama's praise and approval. Big Mama does not care about Donnie, and finds him somewhat annoying.

Donnie often will attempt to make technology that BM can use in her Battle Nexus, but most of it goes thrown out.

Donnie dislikes Draxum, because Big Mama heavily prefers his technology and research to Donnie's.

Donnie folds to almost anything Big Mama asks him to, with the promise of approval and appreciation of his work. Then afterward, he will be very upset he fell for the manipulation. He will fall for it again, though.

His relationship with Ishida -

Donnie sees Ishida as his friend. Donnie would never admit this to anyone intentionally.

Donnie is Ishida's doctor as well, and works hard to keep up with his health and work to help Ishida function as efficiently as possible. He takes great pride in his work with Ishida and gets incredibly frustrated when Ishida does not follow training routines/diets/schedules assigned by him.

Donnie is very controlling of Ishida. He wants to be listened to, and gets extremely angry when Ishida blows off his instruction, or doesn't drop everything to respond to Donnie's call.

Donnie is extremely jealous of anyone Ishida chooses to be around, and Donnie often threatens/harms anyone he believes does Ishida wrong (which is most people).

Ishida is one of the few people Donnie let's touch him, mostly as a 'reward' system for things Donnie wants Ishida to do. This same logic applies to words of affirmation.

Donnie is also very sadistic to Ishida, and he enjoys running experiments/flat out torturing Ishida for research or his own amusement. This includes breaking bones, electrocution, laceration, sleep deprivation, and more. Donnie abuses Ishida's people-pleasing and masochistic tendencies.

His 'mind my own business'/peacekeeping mentality -

Donnie doesn't care for drama, and goes out of his way to avoid any issue between his brothers and the rabbits.

This means he keeps certain things secret, such as Usagi's self harm.

Another reason is that he doesn't often care about the problem, and figures that certain things 'aren't his business', so he doesn't care to share it to people that it may effect or involve until it's all boils over.

This makes Donnie very unlikely to snitch, though, and he's often the one the others go to to tell him their secrets. Donnie dislikes this.

His relationship with Shelldon -

Donnie, while he may not act like it, absolutely adores Shelldon.

Donnie is very proud of his work on Shelldon, and treats him similar to a puppy, or his child.

Donnie is also not above smashing Shelldon and restarting on his wiring if need be, but that hasn't happened anytime recently.

Donnie spoils Shelldon a lot, and will defend him vehemently from his brothers trying to smash him.

Fun facts -

Donnie has a very picky, yet somehow wide pallete. He has a strong stomach, and he uses it to eat anything from sour candy, to pet dogs, to iron nails.

Donnie's favorite food is kimchi, and his favorite drink is lemon juice. He loves all sour/tangy things.

Donnie's teeth are like a shark. They are constantly falling out and being replaced by new ones.

Donnie's need to build things often overpowers his need to seem aloof and apathetic, and he often makes things for the people around him that make their life easier, such as noise-cancelling headphones for Mari.

Tags that include Donnie -

#addams! Donnie, #addams! Donnida, #addams! Hamatos, #addams! Disaster twins

#addams! tmnt au #addams! donnie #addams! donnida #addams! hamatos #addams! disaster twins

[foxofninetales]

Unlearn the Way of Being Strangers by afrikate, cryptive, fox_of_nine_tales, frith_in_thorns, Hils, Merinnan, mimosaeyes, MountainRose, Onmyo-Jin (silvercolour), rainisfallingdown, WindStainedDreams

Fandom: DMBJ | The Grave Robber’s Chronicles and related fandoms

Relationship: Hei Xiazi/Liu Sang/Xie Yuchen

Rating: Teen

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Post-Canon, canon-typical tomb creatures, Injury, Caretaking, Mind Control, Tentacles but not like that

Summary:

Having finally regained his hearing and his health after his Thunder City adventures with the Iron Triangle, Liu Sang is looking forward to a new contract with a new employer. With Xie Yuchen's reputation for competence and the resources he has to draw on, this should be a smooth, professional tomb raid that gives Liu Sang a chance to showcase his skills. What could go wrong? Well, for starters, Hei Xiazi is there.

Excerpt:

Liu Sang wiped his nose irritably; if there was some sort of hyper-allergenic mold down here he was going to be livid–

Oh. His fingers and the back of his knuckles were smeared with something dark, and a flash from his flashlight lit it up bright, virulent red.

"Oh fuck, uhh–" he had tissues somewhere, right? Shit, he’d emptied his pockets when he got doused…

"Use this," Xie-ye said, handing him... was that silk? Definitely too nice a handkerchief to bring into a tomb – unless, apparently, your name was Xie Yuchen. "What happened?

"Nothing," Liu Sang said, reluctantly taking the handkerchief. It really was far too nice to get bloodstains all over it, but it seemed it was that or nothing. "No, really," he added as he held the handkerchief to his nose, catching Xie Yuchen's sceptical look. "I didn't hit it, or smell anything, or get anything in my face, or anything like that. It just started bleeding." He shrugged. "It's just a nosebleed. They happen."

“Did you hear anything before it started bleeding?” Hei Xiazi had materialised next to him, holding up some more standard paper tissues.

That triggered a niggling in Liu Sang's mind. There was something he was supposed to do. He shook his head to try to clear it. The door was open. Right. He needed to map the mechanism he could hear.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Hei Xiazi asked, putting something in his hand. What had he said before? Something about listening?

"I'm listening, the floor's hollow–"

"I'm asking you about the bells, Sangsang," he repeated. "Stop listening, put your white noise in."

There were people on all sides now, the medic, and Mop, and Xie Yuchen was touching his shoulder, and they all had nice, solid heartbeats that he didn't want to stop hearing, actually. "No, no, I'm listening–"

There were suddenly too many hands on him. He felt claustrophobic. He tried to bat them away but they kept coming back. Someone forced his earphones in his ears and turned up the white noise, and suddenly the world felt bleak, like he had lost something precious. He needed to listen. Why didn't they understand?

He tasted some warm and salty on his tongue and his knees hurt – had he fallen? Where was the music?

He tried to get up again, but someone had a hand on his shoulder and he just couldn't get the leverage. Warm, sticky, salty, unswallowable something filled the back of his throat and he was going to choke, off, off, get off–

He heaved over onto his side and coughed, violently enough that his ribs ached. In the harsh light-and-shadow, the ground misted red in front of him.

Commentary:  

This fic came about over on the Yucun Discord when Jin suggested cooperatively group-writing a fic just for the fun of it. Well, you can't go wrong with that DMBJ standard, the tomb crawl, and all of us are whump enthusiasts (in fact , I think most of the authors still lovingly refer to this by its working title, Tomb of Whump) so we set out to make our boys suffer and see where the plot took us. Nine months, 176k words, and a whole lot of hurt and comfort later, the entire fic is available to read on AO3!

Image credits 1 2 3 4

#dmbj #other people's fic #my fic #foxfic #heihuasang #hei xiazi #xie yuchen #liu sang

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Surreptitious God ✦ 」

[ Mha x God!Reader ]

↳ The summary is; your a God, the God of balance—the Yin and Yang. You can bring life or death to anything and everything. But when it comes to war...could you really be called the God of balance?

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

War. The bloodshed is unbearable—left and right, below and above is death. Nothing but destruction in it's path. You'd live for hundreds of years but still couldn't bear the weight of the losses on the battlefield.

During your lifetime, you've experienced countless of battles from the moment quirks were brought into the world. But nothing could prepare you for this..

The destruction around you was nothing like you've ever encountered. Life forms were dimming almost to nothingness as the unraveling wrath spreaded like wildfire.

"How amusing, a God-related quirk user on the ground, their life dependent on the outcome of what I decide. How ironic isn't it? For all of time, everything known to exist were at your mercy. But how the tables have changed." The voice was rasped as his white haired danced from the ashes of destruction. "Y'know, we've been watching you for so long, but guess what? You're not the only powerful being of destruction." He sneered, following with a chuckle which then boomed into a manic laughter.

As the man grabbed your chin, he harshly forced it up before moving it to the side. "Look at all of this..all the blood-shed and destruction..and it wasn't just me who caused it." He chuckled sadistically, "your quirk controls anything destroyed as well can repair, so in contrary, this was your doing as well."

Your eyes gazed around the collapsed and burning buildings, the ashes that flickered throughout the wind—the fires that had spread all around—that dance in the wind almost seeming to taunt you.

As you watched your chin was roughly turned, as your eyes landed on blood-lusting red ones. The kind that can send chills just by a meekly gaze, ones that sadistically taunt you with no remorse.

"So tell me, descender of the God of Balance, how do you feel? Remorse? Guilt? Maybe even fear?" Tomura questioned amusingly before sighing as he shook his head. "No matter, in honesty I don't give a damn. I'm going to end you along with all those revolting 'heroes'."

His face etched a manic grin as he brought his hand closer towards your head.

For most of your life, you've never felt or shown fear..but this, this was different. For the first time, you weren't just scared, you were beyond mortified.

You've grown so close to everyone thats hurting—fighting to protect everything and yet, here you were...a literally fucking God, whose on the ground unable to even stand. How pathetic—a God who sustains unimaginable power at will is at mercy of others, a God who has control over life and death itself can't even help those around them, instead, watch as some succumb to their wounds.

Can you really call yourself a God? Nonetheless the God of balance.

Tears of fury, sorrow and fear all clouded your vision as the on slaughtering background noise diminished to only white as your ears rang. And then it finally dawned onto you,

You were useless..

.

.

"You don't really think that do you?"

You head slowly lifted. Your eyes widened as you no longer the midst of destruction, instead, you laid on bright grass as nature gleamed around you. Water rushed down a small rock formation into a minor lake, glistening. You got up with ease which confused you. Looking down at your body, you noticed you barred no scars.

As you looked around, your memories start fading back as you recalled this plain being a sacred meet up spot.

Your head shot towards a light chuckle, only to be met with the Goddess of nature, Kami.

"Worry not {name}, this plain is a conscious escape." She reassured. Your muscles relaxed as you walked towards her before sitting down at the makeshift-rock table. You sighed as you felt calm as weren't in midst of battle, yet in a place of solace. Though you couldn't help but feel anxious of what was happening in real time.

You were snapped from your state of worry as the Goddess began to speak. "You've done so much and worked quite the ways to get to where you are. Why would you think your useless?" She cocked her head to the side with a light smile.

"I..theres war going on. I'm the one responsible and the one in control of destruction and creation itself, to keep it all in balance, no? If I fail to do my job correctly..who am I to be called a God?" You looked down, fidgeting with a small carving of a star within the rock.

"But you are fulfilling your role. You aren't the God of peace, you are the God of balance. War is one of the factors—the other side of the positives. If destruction doesn't occur, then theres nothing life can contrast to." She informed, reassuring you as well. Getting up, she made her way towards you, a light smile of reassurance and encouragement placed on her lips as she sat down next to you.

"You may not see it yet, but even with your doubts you'll be able to find a way to tip the scale to make it equal. With this war, you'll find life, one way or another. Trust me on this."

You sighed before looking up towards her. "Thank you for this. I know you can't help physically but your words are just as encouraging."

Her smile seemed to brighten, "of coarse." She nodded.

...

You quickly summoned a dagger before quickly stabbing it through Tomura's hand. The man retracted his hand as he staggered back, clutching it in pain as the dagger dispersed. You were thankful time in the plain turned to be nothing int he overworld.

"You bitch!" He hissed, but as he looked up, you were gone. As your blade was about to strike down to his neck, he quickly countered it, grabbing ahold of it as it crumbled to dust.

...

A/N:

[Hi! Soooo as you can see this is clearly unfinished and quite sloppy towards the end. And thats because it is unfinished. Honestly might go back to this later but in the meantime I don't have a clue how to finish this off. I cannot write fighting scenes for my life without it sounding horrid. If you have any ideas on how this should end, please comment it and if I can use it, i'll tag you along with credits! ^^ Also rq, about shigi referring to her as a 'descender of the God ___' and her being a God isn't a writing error. Anyways, yea, use your imagination to however you'd like the ending to be.]

(I haven't watched or read the war-arc yet so I have no clue of Shigi's fighting style.)

......

[ Masterlist ]

#mha #mha x reader #goddess #god!reader #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha imagines #mha scenarios #god reader #oneshot #scenerios #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shiragaki

[formuladoll]

if you lie down with me — c. leclerc

your body couldn’t help but surrender to its deepest desires on a warm monegasque night; lucky for him, charles was right there to watch the show.

cw: smut (light somnophilia, masturbation)

masterlist — request a fic!

When you lie down, lie next to me

A quiet summer night in Monaco provided a warm atmosphere, the slightly open windows allowing the moonlight into your room. A soft breeze compelled your bodies to keep close throughout the night as the long-forgotten white sheets sat at the end of the bed.

Charles would appreciate every second you spared him; he felt like the luckiest man for having you as one of the few constants in his life. He never took for granted something as mundane as sleeping with his girlfriend as he knew just how painful it would be to say goodbye when duty called.

Nonetheless, as much as he wanted to get a good night’s sleep, something interrupted his peaceful rest— soft whimpers brought him back to consciousness, setting his body into a skeptical state. Charles immediately tensed, but waking up to his legs still intertwined with yours brought him a sense of serenity.

Worried about the unusualness of it all, he tried to wake you after recognizing the source of the weak noise; however, goosebumps appeared on his skin as he felt your panties grinding against his thigh. The soft material created friction with your throbbing pussy, just like he instructed you to do many times before— it was an instinct now.

Charles observed your almost imperceptible pleasure expression as your slightly furrowed brows and shut eyes told him everything he needed to know. You had a wet dream, a pleasingly surprising occurrence he would love to see.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock and the way his erection progressively grew painful. The hand that wasn’t comfortingly rubbing your back reached down his body, carefully pulling down his sleeping shorts to free himself.

The grinding intensified as your whimpers grew slightly louder, indistinguishable words falling out of your lips. charles couldn’t believe his eyes; he couldn’t comprehend how deep into her sleep his girlfriend was— you were literally about to cum on his thigh, and it would have been impossible for him not to with the way your wetness stained his shorts.

As the sight before him enthralled his mind, a sly hand traveled to your lips, thumb softly playing with the trembling lower one. Charles slowly pushed his finger into your wet mouth, your tongue wrapping around it and your cheeks hollowing to suck on it. The amount of self-control and mental restraint charles needed to not cum right then was admirable.

After leaving your mouth, he took his hand down his body for it to attend to the erection your wet dreaming created. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, the pleasure causing his head to press back against the pillow. Charles used your saliva to lubricate himself as he stroked up and down his length, his eyes not leaving for once the ecstasy expression on your face.

His slightly calloused hand worked his cock up and down, the veins on it pulsing as if he had never been this aroused. He felt like a teenager again, cumming after mere minutes— although, who could blame him? by the looks of it, you were dreaming with the best sex of your life. If one thing is for sure, charles would later have you relate every detail of your dream while he showed you how much he enjoyed the little show you put up during the middle of the night.

“Fuck, Charles.” You mumbled as your orgasm finally approached. “Sh-sh-sh, je suis avec toi.” He cooed while picking up the pace of his hand. Pushing his thigh further up against your pussy, your thighs clenched around his, the overstimulation of your clit bringing you closer to climax.

“You’re so close, mon amour. I’m so proud of you.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. Even in your unconscious state, your body couldn’t help but oblige to his dominance. A high-pitched moan accompanied your orgasm as charles's cock released white ribbons of pleasure, painting his abdomen.

You both panted as the air returned to your lungs. The hand permanently holding you was now lovingly rubbing your head while your eyes slowly opened.

“You did so well for me, mon ange. Want to tell me about that little dream of yours?”

#f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 drivers #f1 #f1blr #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc oneshots #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #f1 drivers one shot #f1 drivers x reader #charles leclerc smut

[webwanderer]

WIP Ivantill fic?!

I tried to cook something Ivantill related, headcanon story post Round 6. Based on my and other fans theories. I just wrote this part but I plan to expand it way more. I just wanted to have a feedback before going on with the fic🙏

(I know this is lacking context so far, pls spare me)

TW: indirect SA mention, slight gore description.

Till's POV

As sudden as a bolt from the blue, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something cold as ice breezed over my nape and a sharp tingle roared along my nerves, paralysing me there where I was sitting. Still as a statue, I held my breath. Or better, my lungs refused to inflate, my ribs acting as a cage for my squirming meat. I could feel my flesh melt to putty. The muscles of my  thigh were melting off of my femur, and all I could do was sit there and witness my body liquefy. Terror set in as I felt a large palm envelope my forearm. A visceral scream filled my mind. That hand was burning a deep mark on my skin. I was suddenly drowning in a white blaze that was hungrily devouring me whole. The flames were dancing around me and I could not breathe, the air lit on fire the last parts of my body that weren't already inflamed. 

There was no way out of that hell.

Until, I felt a hand wrap around my chin and a velvet thumb gently rubbing my cheek. I opened my eyes and looked up. There I saw some dark iris gazing down at me. For a moment, the scorching fire vanished, the noise made by the cries in my head calmed down, and I could finally breathe again. 

There, I realized how soft his hands could feel. 

Ivan sat next to me.

«Are you ok?» He asked me.

I looked at my arm: there was nothing but fair skin. Despite not seeing any trace, I could still feel the weight of forceful fingers engulfing my frame. At that moment I stood there lifeless, frail, thin as an ink stained piece of paper abandoned by a taunted poet who lost his inspiration. I didn't know what to do with myself.

I hesitated.

«Cheer up, Till.»

Ivan's POV

It had been a few hours and Till disappeared from the cafeteria of the Base without mutterings a word. I was sitting at one of the many metallic tables, staring mindlessly at my empty mug. I was brought back to reality when a warm hand touched my shoulder and I felt a presence sitting next to me. At the corner of my eye I was able to catch a glimpse of shiny pink locks and a pair of glossy emerald eyes. I tuned to face Mizi.

«I think he's in his room. He must still be metabolizing everything that happened. It will be hard, but I'm sure he'll manage to go back to his hot-headed self.» she said with half a smile.

Even though her eyes wanted to scream the opposite.

I nodded slightly and laid my attention back on the lonely cup.

It didn't matter that Mizi and I were on good terms, the silence created between us two started to fit uncomfortably tight on me.

«Er-um… Ivan, I was thinking that maybe» I listened attentively, despite still looking at the mug, «you could go and check on him?» she rushed the last part of the sentence. 

I understood her, though. This situation must have been really awkward. Still I wonder how could I look so calm. The reality was that, earlier, as I was staring at that stupid cup, my emotions were stirring messily inside of me. Blood and words and thoughts all mixed together to create an anxious mingle that was corroding me from within. Was it because I was worried about Till? Why did he run away to his room like that? Or maybe it's what happened in our round? Why did I do it? How could I do it?

I was meant to die. I was meant to die and save Till. Touch him, fake an aggression, be disqualified, lose. But I've never been strong enough. When it came to him, I could never control myself. And so I kissed him. I fucking kissed him. And I hated it. I hated myself. I forced him to kiss me. I forced the ungovernable spirit I adored to follow an order. How fucking egoist,  hypocritical. Perhaps I'm actually no different from Them. I'm just a sack of scum. I had promised myself to never show this side of me. My love should have stayed a secret. Among the exhausting demands of our owners, the relentless routines and the abuse, my love is now one of the many burdens that Till has to carry. I'm one of the deadweight that saddles him. I went too far.

I was about to explode, when Mizi arrived and woke me up from my brooding.

«I can go and check on him» I answered back. 

I didn't let my emotions transpire. I  wanted to spare Mizi, at least. She already lost Sua, she didn't need my emotional baggage as well.

I got up and left the Cafeteria. I was directed towards the dorms, towards his room, when suddenly I heard a distant humming. I walked fast and reached the end of the corridor, on my right the way to our dormitory, on the left the provenance of that faint melody. I followed my hearing. A few steps and I saw a small bench in front of me. A shady figure sitting on it, not facing me. I slowly approached the shadow, entranced by its voice like an eager seaman bewitched by a siren. Once the sound became intelligible, I immediately recognized the boy in front of me. Till was sitting alone, looking out one of the windows of the Base and humming some song.

Apparently he was too immersed in his song and didn't hear me.

Without thinking, I stretched out my hand to touch the back of his neck.

He jumped under my touch, freezing on his seat. With my palm I reached under his chin and held his face. With that action I hoped to show him that I was no harm. My figure was towering over him from behind, when he turned his face upwards to meet mine.

There, I realized how soft his gaze could feel. 

Pale as a ghost but cheeks lit red, eyes puffy and melancholy frowned brows. He was staring at me as he just witnessed death. 

I sat down next to him. I asked him if he was okay. He didn’t look okay. I briefly recalled something.

「«Do you have anything to say to your next opponent?»」

«Cheer up, Till.»

A.N. Tbh I'm very proud of this and could go on a 1h rant explaining my writing choices but I'll refrain from doing that (for now). Anyway, I wanna hear your opinions to see if some of yall would be interested in a full fic🙏

Also tell me if the way events are told is digestible enough. Like, I tried not to write a boring linear story but give it a little spice, but idk maybe I went a bit overboard with it lol.

#alien stage #ivantill #ivan #alnst till #alnst #vivinos #round 6 #gimme feedback pls #toxic doomed yaoi #current wip #wip

[missjenca]

#hilariously enough!; I also imagined Satellite having a Local Hand Commmunication!#Love that we over lap on some thoughts here#this has a lot of some of the things I'd rotated in getting Yusei through a panic attack or just days too much like Bad Times#yell at me to post those

As per your tags, consider this me yelling at you to post about this because I genuinely would like to hear it, pLEASE, I live for this kind of thing, lol

Aye aye! Thankie for the reminder, lemme cook that up, big posr style.

So, Yusei is absolutely not walking away from the plot of 5Ds without being a lil bit fucked up. And while Satellite has given him the ability to simply say 'I will put my nose straight through the grindstone and ignore what is happening to me' (for better or for worse), he also has friends that think it important to help him out.

Leo, our wonderful ball of sunshine, can clock immediately when Yusei is in a certain kind of funk that he can handle. He calls it 'Old Paper White' or 'New Paper White' (if Yusei's freaked out enough to go pale). 'Old Paper White' means that Leo can generally goad Yusei into a duel on the work bench, and bemoan his loss in a way to get Yusei to focus on tips and assistance and generally just Big Brothering Leo until he relaxes. 'New Paper' is trickier, because it's probably a deuling related nightmare at the cause. Which means it's time for different games, be it activity books or putting together plastic models together. Leo would definitely enjoy the Duel Monsters Counterpart of Gunpla, and I think Yusei would find the gentle rhythm of 'Snip piece, connect piece' soothing.

Luna's tactics are fairly similar, though with a different approach. She's armed with fidgit toys and puzzles and big long words and her big wide eyes. She'll word tasks very specifically as 'can you help me with this' or 'can you do this for me', and generally weaponises her Baby Sister Status for his benefit. Because it leans on Yusei's 'Can and Will Do Anything For His Friends' part of his will power, she can get him to focus on small tasks like getting to a safe place or solving a rubix cube until he's calmer.

Crow has been spending years knowing the exact balance of 'filling silence' and 'engaging questions' for Yusei to steady himself to. Crow knows all the gossip, what friends are where, interesting mechanical news, all the safe topics. Crow also knows the exact tone of voice to use that signals that nothing is happening, because it's a very different and specific tone of voice to 'we're pretending to be unaware of cops/gangs/attackers' from back when they were younger. He's also totally clued in to what Yusei's different levels on non-verbal answers or non-answers mean, so he can focus on Yusei without focusing *so much* on Yusei that it stresses him out.

Aki's learned the exact levels and kinds of white noise helps Yusei out. Too much or the wrong sounds and he gets over-stimmed or stressed out, too little makes him anxious because actual silence means something bad is about to happen. She also uses a few meditation techniques with him; she may have learned them at Arcadia, but she controls what she knows now. They're both at least a little fond of it; panic attacks or nightmares aren't something that you can fight physically, but this is almost close. Aki's also the one most on top of making sure he takes a painkiller and eats something afterwards, because he always gets a huge headache from being so tense, and he *will* try and just work through it if left to his own devices.

Jack's the only person who can safely goad Yusei into hitting him without Yusei getting *too* wrapped up in being guilty about it. It's very much not a 'Jack deserves to be hurt' thing, but that it's equal measures of that Jack's Always Gonna Do What He Wants and years of Jack-To-Yusei wordless communication between the two of them. He asks for it because he can take it and Yusei can't. It's a Rivals Thing:tm:. It also helps when Crow rolls his eyes and tells Jack off about it like nothing happened. If they can hit a duel, great, but if we're at the bottom option, Jack is of course the one who knows how to be callous to be kind.

#yusei #5ds #anyway here's my headcanon dump #i love these scrungles #they all do 100% squeeze all together on the garage couch until he falls asleep

[bluberimufim]

Cool and spooky-ish Portuguese legends and mythological creatures because it's nearly Halloween!!

I've been wanting to do this for a while now, because I've felt disconnected from Portuguese culture lately and I'm trying to get into it. So I wanted to share some cool things I found because Portuguese folklore is something no one talks about and I love to share my culture with people! Please be warned that the translations may sound kinda awkward and that this is almost 100% from Wikipedia since Portuguese mythological creatures are a super obscure topic, and the only other big resource I could find was a super expensive book. That being said, the Wikipedia sounds pretty legit because it sounds like it was written by an old person.

Now let's get into some of my favourites!

Werewolf

This is a basic one but I still find it pretty funny. When I visited Cova do Lobisomem (trans.: Werewolf Cave), I learnt that the legend there is that, if you have twelve kids, the eldest son (in the story it was a son, but I don't know what happens if your eldest is a girl) becomes a werewolf and has to go live out in the wilderness. Another closely related legend mentions they have to serve some kind of penitence, but I found nothing on it.

Peeira (or "werewolf fairy")

Known as the "female version of the werewolf" and is able to control wolf packs. Her power seems to be guiding these wolf packs by being a reasonable and more human-like figure in the group, and is described as "lovely and wild" (omg that sounds sooo pretty). Information contradicts in this bit, also saying that she either has feelings for the werewolves or that she lures men into the woods to feed them to her ghost-wolves. A girl becomes a Peeira by being a couple's seventh oldest daughter, or by being called upon by her "predestined/soulmate werewolf".

Bisarma

Ghost of colossal size that can stand over valleys with one foot on each mountain, and sing monotonous tunes in "huge voices" (idk how else to translate it). This mythological creature also shows up in parts of Spain.

Jã

Weaving spirits. If you leave out a bunch of linen and a cake, they'll make you a linen cloth as fine as a hair, but if you forget to leave out the cake, they'll burn the linen. Apparently, people used to claim their ancestors had sheets made by the Jãs.

Zorra Berradeira (trans.: "Screaming Fox")

Shows up in Algarve every 7 years and, when it's not there, it's theorized that it visits other countries. It's a fox spirit that screams all the time but can be heard better at midnight or midday and, if you mock it, it will chase you down until your death.

Velha da Égua Branca (trans.: Old Lady on the White Mare)

Appears in Algarve on full moon nights and makes a lot of noise in the fields with pots and pans. She rides a white mare, wears a white cap with red ribbons that look like lightning, and holds a knife in her left hand. She's been called a "personification of the night".

Homem do Chapéu de Ferro (trans.: Man in the Iron Hat)

Another spirit from Algarve, but evil. He appears at midnight on the sides of roads and fountains, or under olive or fig trees. He's always accompanied by an animal, which is the Devil in disguise: either a black pig, a huge black rooster, or a deer with antlers as tall as a church tower. He has a gigantic frame, is "bronze-coloured" (whatever that means) and wears an iron hat. He'll run away when he sees the Old Lady on the White Mare (oooooh Algarvian connected universe).

Hey, people who live in Algarve, blink twice if you need help with all the supernatural shit because this seems disproportionately hardcore

Okay, this next one is gonna be longer because it's a whole legend with a plot, but I still want to tell it because it's kinda spooky and I love it!!

The Golden Lamprey

On full moon nights, on the banks of the Minho River (northern border with Spain), you can see a very beautiful Moorish girl with golden hair caressing a giant golden lamprey. The girl spends the night combing her hair with a golden comb or singing a sad melody, and the lamprey swims close to her.

According to legend, the lamprey had once been a Portuguese knight, and the girl had been engaged to another man. The two had been sentenced to death for their forbidden romance and had both been cursed - he turned into a fish and she can only gain physical form under the full moon.

There were men who set out in boats to search for the girl, either to seduce her or to steal her fine silk dress, but none ever found her.

Until one night, a young man disappeared after being heard in the tavern, clearly drunk, declaring that he was going to search for the golden-haired Moorish girl. His plan was to make her fall in love with him, sell her comb, and then open an inn where he'd let curious travellers take a look at this supernatural river girl in exchange for large sums of money.

The next day, the lantern he'd set out with was found on some rocks near the river by a few fishers, and his body was found in the water, a bit further ahead. On his neck, there were the marks of small, sharp teeth, similar to the shape of a lamprey's mouth. But what startled the fishers more was the satisfied look on the young man's face. (not posting a pic of a lamprey's mouth bc it feels like it would warrant some kind of content warning but pls do look it up if you're curious, it's horrifying)

There was also another legend of another cursed Moorish girl but on a rock this time that I remembered reading in school, but I genuinely cannot find it. If you know anything about a story named "A Moura do Penedo" (not the cursed snake princess one) pls hit me up, I remember loving that one as a kid. "Cursed Moorish girl" is such a common trope in Portuguese legends that it's almost unsearchable.

And if you want to add anything or correct any of the information I presented, please feel free! This is very much "baby's first dive into Portuguese folklore"

That being said, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did! There are other less-spooky legends I'd love to share, if you're interested! Happy Halloween/other coinciding spooky holiday!

#why are there so many cursed moorish girls #why are they just out there. in the wilderness. #why do so many have combs #and portuguese boyfriends #on that hand we stan the lamprey dude for killing the creep who tried to seduce his gf #wtf do they have going on in Algarve #like seriously #on another note #idk why but i loooooove Peeiras #something about them gives me brainrot and idk what it is #they just have Vibes #i wanna talk more about them #also Bisarmas are so cool #one foot on each mountain going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #cool lil gigantic dudes #not writing #portugal ramblies #long post #portuguese folklore #portuguese legend #folklore #mythological creatures #werewolves #halloween