#need you to explain your thought processes rationally please

[thinenotthee]

i can't even be mad about people not listening to kogami where makishima is concerned, every time he says something about him he sounds like a conspiracy theorist skjhasksakjsahk

#'it's begun' you can't just say that and move on #need you to explain your thought processes rationally please #because we know what you're saying is correct but you sound like a crazy person when you say it #psycho-pass #kogami shinya #ro's ramblings

[azrielbrainrot]

I'll Be Here

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.

Word Count: 3605

Warnings: None

Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.

You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.

As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.

Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.

This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.

There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.

It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.

You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.

You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.

Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.

“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.

“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.

“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.

“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.

“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”

The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.

“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.

“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.

“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”

“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.

“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”

“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”

“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.

“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.

You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.

“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.

“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.

Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.

His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.

“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.

It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.

You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.

“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.

“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.

“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.

“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”

“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.

“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.

“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.

“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.

The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.

“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.

“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”

“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”

“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.

“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.

“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.

The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #divider by saradika #healer!reader

[deblklesb]

hi i was thinking about something, is there any chance you could write something with the reader saying the safeword?

sure, anon!!

cw: use of safeword, reader is neurodivergent and is going through a verbal shutdown, oral (r!receiving), aftercare, MDNI

Usually whenever you and Abby start to enter in a more intimate situation, you're both on the same page. It's not hard to engage, fall into the deep desire and accept the sensations that mix to the endless pleasure. You're always so overwhelmed, so full of her, and it's enough to send your mind into a place so far away from the reality that coming back it's almost a pity.

But today isn't the same.

You were so tired. At work, you've spent most of the day in silence because even talking was too much - to rationalize your feelings and thoughts in words and then pronunciating them out loud; even this was too much untill the last hours of your shift. Lucky for you a library isn't a very busy place, and you gathered all the strength you could find to talk to your boss and ask to just be organizing books on the shelves.

Breathing was already too much. So imagine the fatigue you had when coming home.

Now, you wanted to be this intimate with Abby. You wanted sex with her, you wanted to be wrapped by her warmth and just let go of everything else for some time before going to sleep. You wanted her touches, because she always touches you with so much care and love.

But you just realized now that when you both talked about limits, kinks, desires, safewords, still in the beginning of your relationship, you completely forgotten about your verbal shutdowns. That's because you were slowly discovering things about yourself due to a late diagnosis, and now you learned to identify some things better - including a verbal shutdown -, which you didn't know how to explain before - even to yourself. Now you could honor your needs better and go through it when necessary.

Abby witnessed a verbal shutdown just once since you both started dating, but it didn't involve a sexual moment and so now you were in a very uncomfortable and new situation. She was asking you to respond to her questions, as usual, but each time you couldn't bring yourself to do it tears started to gather on your closed eyes. Her touches were so nice while her lips traveled south of your body, but the demands to talk were just too much today.

"Oingo Boingo", you could bring yourself to say, heavy breaths as you finally could let it out. You felt Abby stop on her tracks and opened your eyes, tears rolling down your face.

In a matter of seconds you could see on her face that she was trying to process the situation, and as soon as the blue eyes got to your face, her expression metamorphosed into a absolutely worried one.

"Babe", she gently pulled you by the hand untill you were sitting on the mattress, getting next to you in a blink of an eye and holding you close. "What happened, did I hurt you?" You shook your head, holding her hand back intensely.

"Give me a moment, please", you could say, gulping.

"Okay. Do you want me to hold you?" You nod and so she does, her skin directly against yours.

Closing your eyes and resting your head on her shoulder, you stay like this for a time you couldn't quantify. Calming your mind, trying to put effort into just explaining her what was going on so then you could go back into honoring your own need to keep silent.

"I-I... Today was very hard. I'm not feeling good to talk. And I know you're always ready to support me but it wasn't in a sexual situation before, and so now I'm not being able to... To... To answer you questions. And it's making me anxious", you took your time saying it, focusing into put your words out. Abby won't judge you, so it's easier to do it in your own pace.

"Is it a verbal shutdown?" You nod. "I'm so sorry babe, I didn't notice. You want to write on you phone right now?" You nod again, and she gets your mobile on the bedside table, handing it to you.

Unlocking it and opening the notes app, you look at her for a second, indicating she can go on.

"Is there something I can do for you? Want me to keep going or want me to stop?"

I want this, to keep going. I just can't answer you verbally, so it would be nice if you didn't ask me to do it. You can still say things to me, i like it, just don't ask me to do it back.

"Okay", she smiles fondly, kissing the top of your head. "You want it now or you want to keep it like this for longer?"

Her look at you is so comforting. She's not treating this situation as more than it is. She's not acting like this is less intimate because you aren't vocally answering her, absolutely willing to keep going, because she knows you can decide it and she'll give you time to think about your needs. She's not acting like she just broke you or something, she's just going through it, walking along with you on this path, following you because she knows you know the way and doesn't need her to do it for you. It's a limitation and you can accommodate your needs into a sexual moment too.

We can just stay like this for a little bit more, just so I can regulate properly. And then we can go back at it ;) If I need you to stop when we're at it, I'll tap your shoulder instead of saying the safeword

"Alright", you hand her the phone and she puts it back on the table, holding you again. Her fingers, a bit bigger than yours, caress your skin, sending shivers down your body.

Your mind start to settle. It's all clear now, like a fog disappeared from around you; it's so calming to know that you can rely on her and be open about it, that she won't underestimate your collocations or act like it's the end of the word.

Later, when you feel okay and her scent start to dominate your head, you slowly kiss her neck. And then do it again, a hand resting on her shoulder as she sighs.

"Wanna keep going now?" You nod, looking at her face before she kisses you again with a smirk that makes you freak out internally a little bit, as always. She still has the same effects on you.

It isn't hard to go back to the moment, it never is with the two of you. Soon, she has you laying on the bed again, eyes closed as her mouth left wet pecks around your chest.

Abby doesn't take long to reach your core again, head between your thighs as she pays attention to each one. Her strong hands keeping you in place it's enough to make you squirm, the strength and size difference always affecting you. Whenever she towers you, it's like a tsunami of feelings drowning your mind, you can barely contain how needy you get.

"Hm, my good girl is so wet", she says, tongue fatly lapping your cunt before she groans. "You're always so delicious, fuck..."

She keeps your legs spread, mouth working tirelessly like she's devouring you. Your legs tremble, you're shaking and contracting your whole body as whimpers escape and you grab the sheets.

Her tongue makes a number on your pussy. You're dripping with desire, her eyes are full of lust, and everything else fades away. There's only her on your sight.

Abby is tasting you and she can't stop from moaning against your core. Periodically she also backs away to murmur how she could eat you forever, how she's getting wet herself, how she wants you to come on her mouth. You're holding on for dear life, hips jolting like you're out of control as you come closer and closer to that high.

When you finally reach the peak, she's right there to sooth you through it. First she cleans you whole with her tongue, licking and sucking. You quiver at each one of these acts, breathing heavily and whimpering. Then she's next to you again, kissing your face and neck and pressing your pussy with a hand, waiting for you to come back down.

"There you go, hun", she whispers, lips bumping into your cheek as you hold her forearm. "Let it all come, babe. You did so good", your heart skips a beat at her words. "I'll go get a cloth to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?" She kisses your face again after you nod, getting up from the bed and leaving you cold from her absence.

You're already drifting away, tiredness taking control of your body and mind when she comes back. The sensation of the cloth on your skin is okay, but you prefer her muscles against you. Either way, she cleans you carefully and then turn off the lights, laying next to you on the bed.

You hold her close and finally can fall asleep. Right before you do, though, you can hear Abby whispering: "Love you, babe"

#asks #ask #anon #lovely people #SHE'S SO SO SO #i need her so bad #deblklesb #abby anderson #abby tlou2 #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #tlou2 abby #abby drabble #abby the last of us #abby the last of us 2 #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson the last of us

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Mira, wake up, you cannot die. You got your leg into a trap, not lost your head

“Oh. Apologies. That is my fault, everyone.”

Warning, potentially sensitive topics below.

~~~~~~

Mirabel’s head was still going in circles. That was the first thing she registered.

The second was the searing pain. Mainly in her right leg, but she could feel it in her ears and neck too - albeit not as intensely.

The third was that said leg was propped up on a cushion, over the purple covers. Luisa’s room, her mind supplied after a beat. When did she get in here? The last thing she remembered was…

Mirabel’s idea of getting away was literally cut short as metal clanged and something stabbed deep into her leg, weighing her down. She screamed.

She covered her mouth with a hand to muffle her cries of agony, well aware that nobody wanted to hear them. Dolores especially.

Between the leaves and twigs and fabric, she saw a glimpse of what had happened to her. An animal trap of some kind. Clamped around her right leg.

She instinctively stumbled to get away, but the trap is completely stuck in her. And it’s heavy, making her drag her right leg like dead weight.

When she continued to squirm anyway, she could feel jagged, metal teeth digging deeper into the limb, ripping away fabric, skin and revealing trenches of gore.

Piercing her flesh, scratching bone and exposing nerves. It’s making her see black spots. As if her vision needed any more reason to be ruined without her glasses. She tries to sit down, but twisting her leg subsequently only puts her in more pain.

After a few attempts of trying to yank her leg free, cutting new wounds as she did, she stopped and tried a new strategy.

She jammed her fingers into where she could, slowly separating the metal. The cool air and release of pressure stung like hell, but she kept going. However, she just isn’t strong enough to counter the force long enough to remove her leg fully. It slips from her grasp back together, creating a new wound underneath the last. Unfortunately catching her ankle in the process.

With a desperate wail, she tried removing it again. This time, it snapped back above the previous two injuries, closer to her kneecap.

That’s when she noticed there were dozens of traps surrounding her. Because of her myopia, she hadn’t noticed them until she was directly on them. She tries to remain as still as possible, terrified of setting another one off. Or worse, altering the others to where she is.

Everything is starting to haze together and she can’t make herself think rationally about what she should do and the tears wouldn’t stop.

A donkey brays.

Did she faint?

She must have done.

“Hermanita?” Mirabel opened her eyes and saw Luisa looking over at her in concern. “You awake? How are you feeling?”

“What happened? Why am I— when did I get here?” Mirabel asked.

“I found you while herding the donkeys. Or, well, one of them did. And I took you back home to find Mama, but she was still out. So Isabela tracked her down for us. Mama fixed your leg and we came back here. Mama thought it best to keep an eye on you, so I took you into my room.” Luisa explained, slowly, giving her time to process. “It’s okay, don’t stress about it. You were in and out of it a lot, it’s normal for you to be confused. Do you want to talk about it?”

Mirabel shook her head, instantly regretting it. “No. Not right now, please?”

Luisa wasn’t sure if Mirabel remembered that she had already told her or not, but if she didn’t want to talk about it right now, fair enough.

“Thank you for helping me,” Mirabel goes on to say. “And I’m sorry. I should have been able to handle myself.”

“You don’t need to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, Mira. You were hurt.”

Mirabel bit the inside of her cheek.

Luisa sighed, gently. “How are you feeling now?”

She shivered, though she tried and definitely failed to hide it.

Luisa pulled out another blanket from under the bed and draped it over them, before pulling Mirabel close against her. She was so warm, she couldn’t help snuggling into her sister.

“It hurts so much.”

“I know. Do you want me to get Mama?”

“No, thank you. I’m sorry. I feel too sick to eat or drink anything.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to. I can just distract you from the pain.”

Mirabel raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Luisa smirked. She picked up a book from her bedside table. A Christmas Carol.

“I raided one of your many bookshelves, while trying to find your spare pair of glasses—”

“Oh, Pa broke them on accident two weeks ago. I haven’t gone to get a replacement yet.”

“Oh yeah, shit... I forgot about that. Anyways, I raided one of your bookshelves and picked out this. I thought you could read to me, like old times?” Then, she added teasingly, “Or I can read to you. So long as you promise to help me with the tricky words?”

Mirabel closed her eyes, relaxing a little. “Will you read it sensibly, Lu?”

“Pft. No. I picked Charles Dickens, I mean yeah, he’s one of your favourite fiction authors, but also because I need to then do the accent and give each character a different voice.”

“You don’t need to. You can just stick to one—”

“No, I’m doing it.”

#encanto #ask me anything #my writing #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #julieta madrigal #encanto karma au

[korolife]

Blog No.003　24年5月10日

「Let's Talk About Coloring+Rendering!!」

～ The Chaos of Akehhh-style Layering w/ Colors & Values ～

ArtStreet recently released some weekly coloring contests and as someone who likes joining 'em + colorwork being the absolute joyous part in drawing for me, I got really into it!! One of them somehow won and I still have the raw .mdp file of it with most of the layers unmerged... so, I thought there might be some value in sharing my chaotic coloring progress with it. There may never be an opportunity like this ever again...

CONTENTS:

Preface・・・・・・・・・

The Linework・・・・・・

Composition + Planning・

The Render・・・・・・・

Additional FX Tips・・・・

The Layers of Dread・・・

1. Preface

I use the free software MediBang Paint, which is made by the same folks who made the aforementioned Art-sharing website, Artstreet. Although its file type extension is .mdp, it can also save as and open .psd files all the same. You can download it on their website here! I believe it's available in both PC, Apple, iOs, and Android (also on the PlayStore). ☞And here is my google drive link of my fully rendered entry's raw .mdp file. I also included a .psd version that should be accessible with most other softwares.

NOTE: I'm not sure how some layer effects will be displayed on other softwares that may have different modes (either in name or function) from MediBang, though. But I think "multiply" and "overlay" is fair game mostly anywhere with layer systems.

Either way, ↑this is just a bonus thing if you wish to see for yourself how much my MediBang cries everytime I work on something, since visuals of the rough step-by-step will be provided here as well!

At the end of this post, all of the layers' purposes will be explained...y-you'll see...

■And just as a disclaimer: I'm an instinctively self-taught illustrator who is a heavy visual learner, so there are certain terminologies or methods I do that I cannot readily explain with a concise rational 'why' or 'how's / with back-up info on color theories or formally taught techniques in art schools and the like. I mostly operate on instinct, observation, subjective preferences, and vibes, so this would just be me trying to verbalize my process (with visual aid) as a means of share-rambling, rather than actually directly "teaching" anything, I think haha You can take it as a cautionary tale too, honestly-

※I will also be going through this with the assumption that the reader has some background knowledge of the basics of digital illustration and general drawing terminologies. If you have any questions or needed clarifications, or maybe if you'd like to request any potential topics of discussion in the future like this one, please feel free to let me know!

Although art can be fundamentally "wrong" when it comes to achieving certain specific styles, structures (especially when involving realism as the standard), or general executions of intentions/themes, I am of belief that there is generally no wrong or right 'way' for drawing anything; or for doing ANY type of artistic endeavor for that matter. This might be perceived as a "bad anatomy defender" / "no need to improve, then" stance on my part, but it is absolutely not the case! An artwork is never finished, there's always room for improvementsーa galaxy's size of a room especially for myselfーbut I just think anything at all that brings you an expressive or creative outlet, joy, or peace of mind is worth pursuing, regardless of your own skill or tact and there's no shame in that. I do not wish anyone, especially people starting out with drawing to be discouraged for having their own different approaches or styles in comparison to other people's works by misconception of, "oh, am I doing it wrong?". Sometimes it's just different or an uncommon worldview, and that's not always a 'bad' thing, I think. Heaven forbid artists actually start getting creative and unique―

What I will be presenting here is simply my one way out of thousands of thousands of different possibilities. So, let's start★

2. The Linework

Equally lengthy talk of lineart is probably for a later discussion, but here is the template provided by ArtStreet for the contest + what will be colored in for today.

☞The contest has since ended, but you can still download it here if you'd like!

3. Composition + Planning

The contest rules said it's "OK to draw backgrounds", so let's go!!

I had already decided on how I want to color it early on: It will be more scenic in nature, rather than stylistic. So, there will be more focus on looking 'real' than 'aesthetically stylish'! Just so it doesn't look disconnected or too out of place, I tried to draw my additions similarly to how Mr. bowman's linework looked as much as possible.

This how I visually define "scenic" VS "stylistic" illustrations (in my head)

I tend to think about my approach with the rendering long before the coloring process, even waaay before I line my final sketch, usually. I like experimenting and mixing different rendering techniques with varying linework styles, but for this in particular, I'm simply working with what was given to me.

At first, I just wanted a "cool breeze w/ leaves flying away ahhhh refreshing~~" mood, but the space at the side of his head looked rather empty as is, even with Nessie. So I thought about putting him inside a vague...darkly-lit abandoned ruins-setting to eat up some of that space.

And with that, it's time for colors.

4. The Render

My coloring process is the lengthiest and often makes people who see me color in real-time scream in horror, but I think it's actually fairly simple and can be summarized into three nutshelled stages:

①Fill in the colors with a finalized palette of your choice,

②cry Continuously render until your arms fall off you're satisfied.

③ cry even HARDER (optional) Adjust accordingly to fit in better with other elements of the illustration, such as with the focus/subject to background. *will be explained later.

oh and btw, the word 'render' or 'rendering' tends to confuse a lot of people, artist or not. I tend to think of it this way:

・Coloring is the selection of your color range, tints, tones, and palette to use in a drawing, ・Rendering is the act (or product) of the specific set of techniques (including effects) you use with the colors/values to create illusions of depth, shadows and light, movement, warmth/cold atmospheres, etc.

But that's just how I define it with my own step-by-steps. Otherwise, I think either term is pretty much interchangeable.

Anyhoo, what do you think should this man's hair, skin, eye, and clothing's colors be?

here are some of the variations on the color picks of his outfit that rotted my brain for about 3 hours straight, like it's a 2000s dress-and-match flash game

The many submissions for the contest had many fun color combinations and interesting interpretations I personally think should've won. I saw a lot of blonde archer-princes wearing greens, browns, and blues, as a lot also went for the "forest hunter boi" vibe. But I was saddened by the lack of my favorite colors being used as the primary colorーorange and yellow. So, let's use those!!

The start of my coloring/rendering journey is never at Layer '1'.........

―Starting with what I've always referred to as "environment prep":

The purpose here is to 'set' the base colors so they match with the environment or general atmosphere.

This could mean adjusting the saturation, or spraying gradients of the BG's most prominent color on parts that...gives me anxiety the most-

As someone who tends to work with very, very bright color schemes, trying to blend it in when the illustration is meant to be scenic or 'serious' in tone without it being a distracting eyesore can be a challenge. But I just think gradients look cool lol- by doing this as my step 1 for the rendering process, it like an appetizer? It makes me a little giddy on what to do next.

Shading is usually an early step for me as well, even though I think it's a lot of other artists' near-to-final step. I tend to lean towards an abomination mix of soft shade and cel shadeーsolid enough to trace where the shadows start and end, but softened around the edges for effect.

I also tend to apply an additional spray of subtly darker shade on top of the first one? It's usually on spots where I think the light source won't be hitting as much.

※Just a side note: You may see multiple things changing around but during the actual drawing, I'm most definitely working on one area or part at a time lol. These visual aids were ripped off the raw .mdp by hiding some of the layers, so that's why different parts seem to progress all at once.

Apart from the previous 'multiply'-ing for the preliminary shadows, I add another layer of distinct shadow on there for objects or other characters that can cast shadows on the subject. In here, it's the bow and the hovering strap across his chest.

Lighting is also starting to be added as well.

One direct alteration I did with the lineart template was change the line's colors. I find it really softens them to mix better with their filled-in colors + as well as not stand out too harshly against a light-colored scenic background.

I think you now have a good idea over my hyperfixation on making sure colors are 'vibing' well against the BG lol A lot of these steps are basically just doing the same thing over and over with new layers for the sake of this purpose, really.

And after that, just repeating all the stuff we did with the character onto everything else until it's all done!

A lot of these changes are very subtle on their own, but makes all the difference in the bigger picture, I think!

Just maybe some additional finishing touches for some boom shakalaka and...that's pretty much it! You will notice that throughout the entire process, there's a lot of random little things that suddenly appear or change with seemingly not much purpose or meaning on its own. I unfortunately have always drawn in this sort of vague, quickly impulsive, directionless way since I was a child and I don't think even I will ever understand it, logically. It's mostly a... continuous string of instinctive feelings of "HEY let's do it this way, if not there's like 10 other things we can try next", is the closest I can get to an explanation of how it feels.

I don't know if it's common for other artists to think or function this way, but I do know for a fact that many people seem to be surprised and confused when they see me drawing in real time this way. Everytime I get asked 'how' I draw certain things, I say things like 'I turn my brain off and vibe with many, many layers with a broken back.' and people think it's just a dismissive joke. I-it's really not, it's literally what happens, I don't have any secret shortcuts for you-

Hopefully this very lengthy post's visual aid can help demystify some misconceptions on what "really" goes on + make my nonsensical ramblings somewhat understandable... like, with an illustrated instruction manual written in a different language using many borrowed english words, but used incorrectly haha

Anyway, the rendering stage is where the simplified steps ② and optional step ③ branch out like a fork in the road for me; I don't think one is any "better" than the other, I think doing either is simply a matter of personal preference and artistic choice.

I removed the walls to see the whole figure better in a side-by-side comparison. I like the unadjusted (L) without the wall, but with the walls in the final illustration, I think adjusted (R) felt 'right'. What do you think?

There are some things, although realistic, don't look that good as a visual aesthetic and are just downright excessive/unnecessary to add to certain types of illustrations. Then there's things that aren't possible in real life, but artistically? Looks really dang cool. Being biased for either ends of the hyperrealism and hyperstylized spectrums of styles is fine; only as long as no discrimination is involved towards people who don't share your opinions, in my opinion-

and to conclude this section, I say,

『 You go render however you wantーhellーno colors even necessary if you wish! Simple ≠ laziness, just as much as complexity ≠ skill。』

I will never stop yapping about how a lot of minimalist styles require so much more amounts of planning and effort to make sure everything is nice and clean, especially compared to mindless rendering loops like these. Mine's a maximalist hell and I wouldn't have it any other way, but I greatly envy minimalist artists that can render with just something like my step ① with so much grace and tact; not a single stray or wasted stroke!! Anyone who dismisses these types as "lazy" I will violently stuff inside a couchーwithout any potato snacks to snack on!!!

5. Additional FX Tips

Just a shorter section for some optional finishing touches tips'n'tricks used in this I frequently (ab)use☆

From the very beginning, even before I understood how to draw, it's always been a tradition to doodle around sparkles all around the place. I usually do it with MediBang's sparkle brush if I want it to look polished, or simply draw it manually using either the pen or airbrush tool for a cruder charm.

Motion blur is great, and MediBang in particular also has different types of blur effects like Gaussian and regular blurs. If your software doesn't have these effects / if you're working traditionally but still want to achieve the illusion of motion in a still drawing, you can still achieve the same effect through your linework! Try looking into incorporating action lines (commonly seen in manga and comics) into it. Otherwise, purposefully drawing something blurily to begin with oughta work as well.

Apart from the color changing from the rendering section, there's also this little effect that is achieved by duplicating the lineart and blurring it. It gives something like a...'dreamy' quality to it? The higher the blurred copy's opacity is, the more emphasized it makes everything look.

6. The Layers of Dread

At long last we've arrived... at my MediBang's repeating demise for all of eternity...

Here's a preview of what the .mdp/.psd file of this colored entry's unmerged layers looks like + how I try to validate their existence. When I work on full-sized illustrations, I tend to merge layers as I go, so this is probably one of the rare times I can show something like this without either mine or your PC dying. If you'd like to see, play around with, and toggle them for yourself in all of its............glory, feel free to download it here.

Yes

we're starting at Layer 611. Enjoy.

I will now delete my PC's copy because jfc that's one too many MBs ...and it's still eons lighter than what I usually work with on my own full illustrations from sketch to finish......。 (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) thank you for reading this far and making it out alive, goodbye for now...

・・・ホームページALL LINKS・・・

・Art Gallery・Commission Info・Ko-fi shop・

#art blog #long post #coloring #coloring tutorial #art tips #art tutorial #digital art #digital illustration #digital drawing #digital art tips #digital art tutorials #medibang #drawing journal #drawing process #illustration #coloring practice #nessie #the loch ness monster

[finelinens]

i’m going to be speaking abstractly about grooming under the cut, so please scroll past this post if you’re not in a place where you can read that kind of discussion. taking care of yourself is more important than anything a random artist on the internet has to say.

the tl;dr is that i believe all of us on social media must remind ourselves that we are simply individuals using the internet. it’s not our jobs to provide press releases explaining how we feel about each new bit of news in great detail. i also believe that all of us owe compassion to each other, even when we find ourselves in strong disagreement. i don’t think either of these statements is controversial! but i think writing about it is worth my time.

read on under the cut if you wish~

this has been on my mind a lot lately so i think maybe i would benefit from expressing it. let me start with this: in an ideal world, we would all be able to trust and believe everyone who claims they’ve been hurt by someone else. we’d be able to hear them, trust them, and help them achieve the justice they want. but we don’t live in an ideal world. we live in a world where people behave irrationally and illogically. trusting every individual you meet, or even just the ones who you believe would be honest with you, can often result in having that trust thrown back in your face when you realize they were dishonest. if much of the world exists in this grey area muddied by moral inconsistencies and judgement, how are we meant to approach any kind of conflict?

are people to be trusted? are people to be distrusted? are people to be regarded with absolute neutrality free of any judgement? i don’t know. i don’t think any of us know, really. many people on twitter, for example, argue for unwavering trust in anyone who comes forward with claims that they were hurt by someone else. simultaneously, these same people struggle to trust their friends who feel differently and believe that unwavering trust is often a misguided choice. i hope that in the future we can all seek more of a middle ground in these kinds of situations; i’d like to see more people being willing to hear out accusers, while saving their thoughts of judgement for the point at which we have all of the information possible. i believe this is the most rational way to approach these nuanced and complicated situations. it’s my belief that we need to abide by “innocent until proven guilty” always, even when it’s hard. we are all owed that much.

as much as i’d love for people to handle these delicate situations with the tact they deserve, i know the internet doesn’t generally behave that way. it is much easier, and more attention-grabbing, to speak in extremes. but i actively try to resist this practice of “speak first think later” so that i can at least feel better about my own ethics and emotions in any given situation. when dream’s sexual misconduct and grooming allegations came out, my initial response was denial. as with many of us, i’m sure, i felt as if i knew dream relatively well. how could someone who seemed so normal do something so abhorrent? i saw the words grooming and pedophilia thrown around, and immediately shut down. i deleted my tweets about my denial, looked at all of the information available, and went offline for a while. i sat with my thoughts. i logged on occasionally to check in on friends and share words of comfort, but for the most part i allowed myself to process my emotions without feeling a need to rush to a conclusion.

i feel that many of us are pushed into feeling as if we need to immediately write a press release every time a new controversy arises. there’s this fear of our peers, even our friends, judging us and thinking we’re morally bad people if we don’t respond the “right” way instantly. what if they think i’m a bad person? will they write a thread? will i receive a callout post? will i lose all of my friends? will my peers think poorly of me? so much of our socialization online is rooted in this paranoia and fear of a looming boogeyman who could ruin your life at the push of a button. so we write our threads. we write our notes app statements. we make it clear to our peers that, “hey, i’m not one of the bad guys. i’m good. i’m your ally. you can trust me, because i’m on your side. the right side.” as if that guarantees us any safety from their changing minds and shifting moral goalposts in the future.

i have cited this study about social media discourse an unbelievable number of times, but i learn something new with each read. there are many studies that have been done in recent years analyzing the way that we all use social media as a tool for self-expression and developing our own social and political ideologies, and i think it’s a wonderful thing. this quote in particular is relevant to what i’m discussing now:

��[…] polarization may be attributable to multiple factors, rather than solely to social media or digital online environments themselves. However, there is little disagreement with the notion that public discourse on social media platforms is particularly prone to conflict and outrage. That is, moral outrage in the digital age is common and often especially intense. Moreover, the prevalence of such outrage is particularly concerning given research showing that outrage occurring on social media is often quickly realized but imprecisely pointed at diverse potential targets.”

admittedly, i have not looked for any research regarding this topic (although i am excited to do so once i’m done writing this), but i believe that there is one major motivator for the palpable increase in social media discourse in recent years: to put it simply, the world sucks. for the better part of the last decade, we’ve all been reckoning with the fact that the united states of america is quickly spiraling into radical fascist-leaning politics where many of us are having our rights stripped away, police brutality and militarization is increasing globally, and to top it all off we entered a worldwide pandemic three years ago and many of us are still feeling the impacts. we are all exhausted, frustrated, and angry. we need to expel that energy and those emotions somehow. so many of us chose the internet. go on social media, find someone who you think is annoying, then search for a way to morally justify bullying them until they delete their account. catharsis has been attained. anger has been decreased. yet another successful therapy session!

let’s summarize: trust no one (because they’re bad), but trust everyone (as long as they’re good), and don’t allow anyone to return fire (because only i am allowed catharsis). understand everything (unless it’s bad), but empathize with no one (unless they’re good). the inconsistencies and hypocrisy don’t matter, because many of us are not truly motivated by morals and ethics as we would all like to believe. we are motivated by emotions. a desire to feel accepted, understood, and powerful. no amount of genuine conversation with the goal of finding common ground will help, because often our goals will not be met in the end. still, even with all of this said, we owe each other empathy and compassion. because we are people, and all people are deserving of compassion no matter what.

so, no, i did not “pretend to support victims” when i privately talked with friends about how shocked and upset i was when dream’s sexual misconduct and grooming allegations came out. no, i did not “encourage people to prevent victims from coming forward” when i privately expressed my initial denial. and, no, i did not “abandon [my] morals” when i chose to continue casually supporting dream by watching his videos and drawing fanart. i heard the accuser out, i read all of the information available, and i took in all of the tertiary information that has come out since then. i have applied my own personal morals to this situation and am comfortable with my decision, and i am also comfortable with the fact that i may change my mind later. i am showing myself compassion, the same way i showed my friends compassion when they weren’t sure what to think. i expressed empathy to them and made sure they all knew that i was someone with whom they could speak comfortably, because i wouldn’t judge them based on how they feel about such a complicated situation which is often colored by our own personal experiences with older people online.

i know that the internet is not a place where we should expect great empathy and compassion from strangers, but i don’t think it’s out of line to ask that we all make an effort to show this empathy and compassion to our own friends. be honest with each other. be there for each other. if you’re unsure of how a friend feels and want to understand them better, try to open up an honest conversation. it might not work out, but just give it a try so that you can know you tried to encourage this kind of compassionate and emotionally honest environment on social media. we live in a complicated, morally-grey, and often really shitty world. the least we can do is be kind to each other whenever we can, especially online where we can all feel so isolated.

i’ve never posted something serious like this before so if you read this far, thanks! clearly i’ve been thinking about it a lot and i’m happy i expressed myself. i don’t know if i’ll answer asks about this if i receive any, but i do hope that i prompted at least a few of you to contemplate how we approach controversy on social media. just more people being aware of what we do and the ramifications is enough, to me. thank you for reading!

#grooming tw #reblogs or screenshots are fine

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

i freaking love your fics sm they are like cup noodles for serotonin i just open tumblr and i am happy

i was wondering if we could have a fic with izzy where the reader's love language is giving a lot of homemade food? idk i just really like making food for people when i love them and i think izzy needs to calm down and have some fresh pastries <33

anyway your blog is everything i check in every day for more fics,, take caree :]]

Making Izzy Hands Homemade Treats:

Roach hated people being in his kitchen, everyone on the Revenge knew that and knew it was best to stay out as much as they could. However, you were the exception.

You have a passion for food and cooking that Roach resected, plus the two of you would share recipes with each other. He even let you have control of the kitchen when he wasn't around, and he never let anyone touch anything in his kitchen.

You grinned as you plated the second batch of pastries, somebody walking into the galley just in time. Your head perked up, smiling growing when you saw the grumpy first mate approaching you.

"Izzy! Just the man I wanted to see," you beamed, waving him over.

Your excitement to see him must have threw him off because his steps faltered and all he asked was, "really?"

"Yes! Come here, please," you eagerly grabbed your two plates of treats and placed them in front of you.

"What the fuck is this about?" Izzy asked, glaring at the confectionaries. Apparently, he had found his footing again.

"Okay, so, I'm been working on these pastries and I want to know which batch is better," you explained, gesturing too the fresh pastries in front of you, hoping to tempt him at least a little bit.

"This is a waste of rations," Izzy complained, but still approached the table.

"Captain Bonnet allowed it," you assured him, even if you knew it would only piss him off more, realistically.

"Can't somebody else do this?" he asked.

"Nope. I need an unbiased opinion. If they're awful, you'll tell me and be an asshole about it. Perfect," you told him, hoping he picked up on your slightly playful tone as you called him an asshole. "Normally Roach gives me proper opinions and advice, I do the same for him, but I'm trying to master the recipe before he does," you conspired.

"Fine, whatever. Get it over with," Izzy huffed, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly.

With a smile, you handed him a pastry from the first batch. He made sure to shoot you a glare before taking a conservative bite. Still, you saw the slight quirk of his lips and fluttering of the eyelids. He liked it.

He nodded some sort of approval before placing the rest of the pastry down, letting you hand him one from the second batch.

Izzy repeated the process, his glare lacking this time before he took a bite, a little bigger than the last. You watched his jaw work as he chewed, too excited to hear some feedback.

"So...which is better?" you asked, rocking back and forth on your heels, as Izzy placed the remainder of his pastry down.

Izzy glanced at you before looking between the two plates, absentmindedly licking the icing off of his lips. "The second batch," he nodded.

"I knew it!" you grinned, throwing your arms up in victory. "I added cinnamon to those, good right?" you told him.

"Now get back to doing something fucking useful," Izzy snapped before leaving the kitchen. Whatever he had originally come in here for, it apparently didn't matter much.

Izzy pushed the whole stupid thing out of his mind but when he returned to his cabin that night, he found a basket of cinnamon pastries sat on his desk.

A part of him wanted to march into the galley and throw the pastries in your face, but another part of him thought better of it. They were delicious and nobody else had to know, he just wouldn't mention it.

-

Izzy didn't mind night shift so much, enjoyed it more than he once did anyway. Back then it was a long night followed by a day of back breaking work. Now, it was a break from Bonnet's insufferable crew.

Well, mostly.

Since you couldn't seem to leave things be, he turned at the sound of creaking steps to see you joining him on the quarterdeck. In your hands were two cloth wrapped items.

"What's this for?" Izzy questioned as you held one of the items out to him.

"You didn't have dinner, you should eat something," you were telling him, not asking him. "Just some chicken pie and some sugar biscuits for sweetness," you told him, waving your other cloth wrapped item around. Likely the biscuits.

Izzy was too hung up on the first thing you said, though. You noticed he didn't eat? For a moment he felt warm, before figuring that you just saw that his rations were left behind when you and Roach went to clean up.

"Just take it, you don't even need to say thank you," you rolled your eyes, pushing the wrapped pie into his hand.

"Whatever," he huffed, accepting it.

"I noticed that whenever we use a fatty meat, you don't eat it. If there's a problem, I could prepare something different for you," you offered as he unwrapped the pie.

"It'd be a waste of rations," Izzy protested.

"Not if you're eating. Next time we have to work with fatty meats, I'll make you something leaner, okay?" you assured him. Once again, you weren't asking.

Izzy frowned down at the pie before turning to you properly. "Why?"

"Because you have to eat, Izzy. You'll make yourself sick," you shrugged, like it was nothing.

"Why do you care?" he asked, squinting at you. Suspicious.

"Because I do. Now, eat up. I can get you a coffee if you want, help you make it through the shift?" you placed a hand under his, lifting the pie up to his face.

Izzy sighed, the pie did smell good. "Yeah...yeah, alright, I guess," he agreed, letting you hand him the wrapped up biscuits as well.

"Give me a few minutes," you winked and danced off to fetch him that coffee.

Izzy had no idea what was going on in your head but it seemed innocent enough. There was no denying he was beyond confused by you but the pros seemed to be outweighing the cons. Your cooking was good, better than Roach's (even he wouldn't say that to Roach's face though).

Either way, Izzy finished the food you brought him, and he enjoyed every bite.

It was only a couple of weeks later that the crew were eating a stew that Izzy already knew he shouldn't eat, knew that it wouldn't sit right in his stomach. Normally he would just grab a bread roll on days like these, grab some hardtack later on if he got hungry. Before he could do that, though, you were pushing a bowl into his hands with a wink.

Whatever it was, however it was different to what the rest of the crew were eating, it was delicious and didn't upset his stomach in the slightest.

-

Over the following months you made a mental list of all of Izzy's preferences. More than anything, you had learnt that Izzy certainly had a sweet tooth. While he wasn't a huge fan of spice, it not being great on his stomach, but he did light up when that spice was undercut with some sweetness. Still, he shouldn't eat too much of it.

And over those months, Izzy began only taking his meals from you. Roach was a fine cook but he knew that what you were giving him would be adapted to his tastes, that you would have made sure it was just the way he liked it. He didn't even realise it was happening at first but he definitely didn't stop once he did. It was the best food he had ever eaten while on a ship.

You managed to intercept Izzy in the passageways of the ship. "Hey, Iz. Stede asked for some cakes for this evening, I made a few too many. Interested?" you asked, holding a tin (assumingly filled with little cakes) in your hands.

"What the fuck did he want cakes for?" Izzy scowled.

"We just got a restock on oranges so he wanted little citrusy cakes for him and Edward," you shrugged. "Anyway, Roach already took them down. They're really good. Thought our First Mate should get the extras," you handed him the tin of little cakes and he instinctively took them.

"Thank you for the captain's leftovers," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, come on. You know I made extra just for you, don't be so difficult. Take the damn cakes and enjoy them," you rolled your eyes.

"Right...right, yeah, okay," Izzy nodded.

That was the thing wasn't it, he did know that you made them just for him. He just never expected you to actually say it, it was just something the two of you didn't acknowledge. Until know, apparently.

-

"Okay...how about this one?" you asked, holding the spoon out in front of you, your other hand under it in case you spilled any of its contents. Izzy lent forward from the other side of the table, taking the spoon in his mouth.

You had talked Izzy into tasting a bunch of new jams, spreads, and conserves that you had been working on. It wasn't your speciality but the captains loved them, so you figured you better learn. And who better to assist you than your favourite taste-tester.

"That one's more bitter," Izzy told you, not completely helpful information. You already knew that.

"Good bitter, like complimentary bitter, or just bad bitter?" you probed, pulling the spoon back and wiping it off.

"I don't know," Izzy shrugged, huffing slightly. He could tell you when he liked things or disliked things, he didn't know how else to help other than that.

"Oh, okay!" you perked up, idea coming to mind. You slathered the conserve onto one of Roach's new biscuit recipes and held it out to him, "try this."

Izzy took the biscuit from you and popped it into his mouth. "Okay, yeah, good bitter. Very complimentary," he nodded, swallowing the last bite.

"Yes!" you grinned. Izzy couldn't help but smile a little bit as well, seeing how your face lit up at your success.

"Okay, great. How about this one?" you held out another spoon full.

Izzy tasted it without argument. You still couldn't believe you had managed to pull him away from his duties to sit here with you for this.

"...put it in a cake," he suggested, already picturing how well it would pair with your cream cakes.

"That's exactly what I thought!" you agreed excited, "see, I can always rely on you."

"Okay, this is a subtle one. Roach came back with a bunch of these fruits I've never even seen before. They're nice, refreshing, a little hard to work with but I figured it out. So, close your eyes," you ordered, preparing another spoon full.

"Close my eyes?" Izzy questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. So you can really focus on the the flavour," you explained, waving the spoon about.

"Fine," he sighed and closed his eyes, putting trust into you.

With your free hand, you gently held his chin, just so he would know when it was coming. He took the spoon into his mouth.

"Thoughts?" you asked expectantly.

"I like that one. Not too much, y'know?" Izzy told you, opening his eyes again.

"Should have figured you'd like a subtle flavour from time to time," you chuckled fondly, "okay, last one, but you're going to need to close your eyes again."

Izzy sighed but closed his eyes again, even though you hadn't even prepared the spoon yet.

You shifted back and forth nervously as you eyed him, trying to both talk yourself out of it and into it.

Bracing one hand against the table and holding Izzy's chin with your other, just like you did before, you lent towards him. With only a little more hesitation, you inched forward and lightly pressed your lips to his.

Izzy tensed but just as you were about to pull away and apologise profusely, he began to kiss you back. You lingered, smiling into his mouth. You could still taste the jam on his tongue.

"So, uh...how was that one?" you asked quietly as you pulled away, back to your side of the table.

"...sweet," he answered, making you smile as his eyes fluttered open.

"Okay, pick your favourite," you lined up the jars, hands hovering over them.

"Including that last one?" Izzy asked, a flush crawling up his neck. You couldn't help but smile even more, now he was flirting.

"Other than the last one," you rolled your eyes fondly.

Izzy looked over the jars a few times before stopping on one. "...that one," he pointed to a jar with a pale pink conserve in.

"Then it's all yours," you handed it to him without hesitation.

"...seriously?" Izzy frowned a little, taking the jar from you.

"Of course. This is your favourite, you can have it. I want you to have it. I'll make you some of those cookies you like to put it on," you assured him.

"Thanks..." Izzy accepted the gift with a small smile.

"Anytime," you promised, beginning to tidy up the kitchen. Izzy decided that he would stay and help you.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd x reader

[satocidal]

Sun, Venus and Taurus please! 💕

Wait have I been blessed by you in my inbox😭wowow (fan moment please)

Sun:- 5 things you like about yourself?

😃haha. Ok so it’s not tough to name I guess? But then eh-

I like the fact that I’m more rational? When thinking- like sometimes it could show as a disadvantage but then, I think it’s just always helped me more so. I do love the way I write, I don’t care if others do or not—but in the certain way i can project myself when I’m seriously writing? Yes. I don’t base my opinions around others- like it isn’t a huge thing either, but then I enjoy the fact that at least, someho were I have individual thought processing lmao. My sarcasm—it’s not that big a thing, in fact people new to me might not even get that I’m like really sarcastic but it’s a personality trait I enjoy. And lastly, I like my fingers- or hands. Simply because I depend on them a lot? So often I just, yk sit and think of how useless I’d be without my right hand💀

Venus:- what is your ideal type?

Call me narcissistic or self obsessed but literally me💀 like all I need is a slightly hotter version of me, same personality and all and I’m set for life. In all honesty though Lmao, I like someone who gets me- like understanding? I suppose? I mean someone who’ll lay down and listen to me rambling about random ass fun facts or anything, someone who’ll understand and get through with my schedule. In some sense, someone who’s either entirely like me or compliments me (I’m a sucker for friends to lovers too so this explains it). But to name a few things, rich—smart (as much as or smarter than me), slightly taller than- even an inch works for me; a little bit on the quieter side to balance it out

Favourite food?

So I’m Indian right? Mostly stuff from here, gotta go anything paneer (cottage cheese is it?) but I’m a huge huge sucker for Chinese and Italian cuisine. And since I bake, the brownies that I make specifically (does it show that I’m very stupidly narcissistic? Please I’m literally better than this Lmao)

Astrology ask game!!

#☼࿐𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠→ #from.devoti #I legitimately love seeing you on my dash😭🫶 #also thank you so much for sending in the asks<3

[denial-permanente]

Hi! Really love your blog. You post the hottest captions on internet! I've noticed interesting thing: in your captions Ladies usually address to their husbands / men or to some third person, probably to someone with whom their discuss the practice of permanent orgasm denial (better say, erection denial, as we know))).

This second type of captions (which I consider the hottest!) opens the whole new subject: the attitude of society to the practice of male orgasm denial and forced chastity. Please, correct me, if I'm wrong: you wish to promote this lifestyle and make it more popular and recognizable in the future? Popular enough to allow the couples who practice it discuss it with some friends and families.

You wrote once that the sex life is rarely become a subject for discussion for older people - I agree with that. But still, here we are, discussing it. Do you agree, that involving more people with new ideas help to elaborate, diversify and develop this practice?

P.s. Excuse me for bad spelling, I'm not a native speaker))). Hope you understand what I mean.

P. P. S. Absolutely love when the middle age and mature ladies appear in your captions! It make the whole thing look more... permanent. Also love the latest one, where beautiful lady describe the training process for her husband, which took 4 years)))

Hi, Tom here.

First, thank you for liking our blog. It started off as a fun project, and it has lasted for more than 2 years now. And yes, I often use more mature looking women because they look more appropriate when discussing long term or permanent denial.

As to your second point, I do not really care about making this a more open, accepted lifestyle, or having people talk about it. Seriously.

We are happy to answer questions about this because there really are not many other places to discuss this seriously, like adults, and not as fantasy. @mrs--edge has been chatting with women who are new to this, and I'm sure she has helped them separate the fantasy material that their husbands bring up from the realities and difficulties of living this full time. And I have been writing about this for years and I think that I have helped guys new to this think more rationally. At least I like to think so.

But while I'm happy to educate, I really do not think this needs to be promoted. Male (and female) chastity & denial is a sexual kink. It's more mild than most bdsm, and like bondage or role play dressing up, it can enhance a couple's sex life. I do not think it should shameful; I think it should be fun. I would not mind if it were one of those quietly popular practices, like handcuffs or spankings. But I do think that it's a practice that one should come to on one's own. I may not be explaining this well. I will try to write more over on @that-tom-allen when I have given this more thought.

Finally, thank you for mentioning that particular caption. Although @mrs--edge and I just sort of evolved into a permanent situation, I like the idea of a woman who has a long term plan to make it happen.

#chastity question

[3hy-g1n]

Okay Dtk birth chart update!!

(Warning long post!) Please take this with a grain of salt, it's just a very large hypothesis!!!! (Also not proofread)

For his birthday I used shi-ni-shi-ni-koroshi's hypothesis on his birthday. If your interested in any and everything Death the Kid I absolutely recommended their blog.. And honestly I'm always excited to see one of their posts. (I'm going to add a link to their blog at the bottom if you wish to check it out!)

↓↓↓

Anyway so his hypothesized birthday is 18/8/89 and that is the date I used for his birth chart.

Secondly I couldn't find an exact city in Nevada that is close enough to Death City's fictional area. So instead I used Las Vegas due to Death City being called Death Vegas a couple of times in both Soul eater Not and Soul eater.

I left the birth time empty so I can speculate on it further with the poll I ran recently about his rising sign.

Anyway this is what I got.. ( I used Astro- seek if your curious)

I find this super interesting and very broadening of his character even if it is all just lovely speculation.

Im going to go through the main 5 with an attempt of brief explanations.

Firstly... Sun in Leo - This placement along with Scorpio and Virgo is one of the top ones speculated as his sun sign if you look litterly anywhere. It fits his character especially in the realm of his outward appearance of superiority, pride, and spoiledness.

Moon in Pisces- At first I was a little surprised at this placement due to my assumption that his moon sign would something of a earth due to his rational, and usually calm demeanor or fire because of his passion, and tendency to be quick to anger or irritants when something doesn't go planned. So I don't have many thoughts on this yet besides how it could represent how he is rather okay with people seeing him cry or be upset about things. Could also make him idealistic.

Mercury in Virgo - I saw this coming. His bluntness, usual professional, and calm way of speaking gives it away easily. His thought process is rather practical and logical and he isn't scared to be abrasive when he knows someone needs it. (like Black Star)

Mars in Virgo - His passionate actions towards perfection, being hard working, holding others to high standards. Yea it's all right here.

Venus in Libra - This was super interesting and to me it explains his adoration for aesthetics outside of his Madness of Order. Not to mention how Libra represents the scales and balance and Venus represents love and beauty. Just....a lot is adding up here.

Anyway enough of my thoughts here's shi-ni-shi-ni-koroshi blog link.

Have a good day!!!!

#death the kid #soul eater #astrology #astro observations #anime

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 21 - Surgery

I finally finished up the rest of the filing and stretched my neck, reaching the nurse’s station.

‘That’s it, I’m done for the day.’ I said to Sophia who was just starting her shift.

‘You want me to check them for you?’ She said with a raised eyebrow, making me laugh.

‘Probably a good idea.’ I admitted. ‘One week and I will be back with a brand new shoulder.’

‘Well good luck, we’re all rooting for you.’ Sophia took the files and I still didn’t leave.

‘Call if it’s urgent.’ I reminded her. ‘I can consult from home.’

‘We’re under strict orders not to call for any reason.’ Sophia grinned, but I didn’t get it.

‘Cuddy?’ I guessed, frowning.

‘Dr House.’ She said, making my heart drop. ‘He said he’d be around to take any case that comes in, he’d do the filing, the paperwork, everything.’

‘And you believed him?’ I smirked, surely she hadn’t fallen for that.

‘I asked him why he was doing it and he said because it was the least he could do.’ That was unexpected. ‘What’s going on? You two back together?’

I shook my head, no longer interested in the conversation. I headed straight for the lift and with everything I could, I resisted the temptation to go to House’s office.

Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to avoid him completely. He was waiting for me in the lobby.

‘I just had the most awesome case with a priest.’ He said, trying not to say anything too heavy. ‘The preachy God part sucked, but he was a paedophile, then he wasn’t, then he had aids, then he didn’t. It was cool.’

I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded and went to walk past him, but I could hear the sounds of his cane catching up to me in the car park.

‘Why are you following me?’ I turned around just as we reached my car.

‘Because I wanna talk to you about your surgery tomorrow.’ He said it plainly and simply.

‘Really?’ I folded my arms, hating the fact that it was snowing.

‘It’ll be two hours long, they’ll go in remove the shrapnel that is about to start causing real problems and then recovery will take a relatively short amount of time with physiotherapy lasting for up to six months.’ He said it like he was talking to a medical student and I suddenly remembered Wilson’s words.

‘Why did you put yourself on call for my department?’ I asked, not wanting to play games.

‘I figured you’d want someone competent to make sure it runs smoothly while you’re recovering.’

‘I have other doctors in my department who could do that.’ I countered.

‘They might make a mistake.’

‘And you won’t?’ It was only then that I realised I was crying.

‘I won’t make a mistake.’ He said, seriously. ‘I’ll follow protocol, I’ll file and do the paperwork.’

‘But why?’ I was getting frustrated.

‘Because you’re terrified and I want to help.’

Wilson was right, he really didn’t know how to process any of this.

‘House, I am scared that I am going to be put under and not wake up.’ I explained. ‘It is a rational fear to have and stranger things have happened. I don’t need someone to help with what happens afterwards, I need someone to help me get into the OR feeling optimistic.’

It was like talking in a foreign language. I gave up, it just wasn’t worth it anymore. I went to get my keys out of my bag to unlock my car.

‘I can do that.’ He said, quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

‘It’s not your job-‘

‘I know.’ He cut me off. ‘It’s also not my job to take over your patients, but… I want to do it.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘No, you’re right I don’t!’ He snapped, catching the attention of a few people around us. ‘I don’t want to deal with paperwork or boring cases like evident heart disease in obese idiots. But I want you to love me again!’ He seemed to run out of patience and I didn’t know what to do. ‘I don’t know how to do this. You have to show me how to do this.’ I thought he might have cried. ‘Please.’

I honestly didn’t know what to do. ‘I didn’t stop loving you.’ I nodded, feeling my cheeks burn with the tears that had already fallen. ‘I just…’

‘What?’ House took a step toward me and I both couldn’t stand being so close and hated he was still so far away.

‘I just didn’t think I’d miss you so much.’ I confessed. ‘We’re not warm and fuzzy people, we’re practical and rational and that has worked for us, but you wanted to change the terms of that agreement and I still don’t know what it is you really want.’

‘I want you.’ He tried to say it like it was obvious.

‘Beyond that. What do you want?’

‘Why does there have to be a beyond?’ He said, frustrated. ‘Why can’t this be it?’ I didn’t know how to answer. ‘What do you want?’

That was the magic phrase to make me start to cry a little more. ‘God, Greg, I want to go home. I want to sleep. I don’t want to be in pain anymore and I don’t want to feel like I’m some poor broken soldier. I want to have a real life where I can do the things that make me happy. I just want to sleep again.’

I took a long moment to breathe and stop crying, looking anywhere that wasn’t at him and wiping away my tears.

‘Sleep with me.’ He said and I just looked at him, not being able to believe he just said that. ‘I don’t mean like that.’ He corrected himself. ‘I mean actually sleep in a bed with me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you sleep better when I’m there.’ He gave a half smile and I was once again getting sucked in by those eyes. ‘You should get some rest before the surgery and you should use whatever means necessary to do that.’

‘You’re saying I should use you.’

‘I’m saying I’m volunteering to help.’ He sighed. ‘In whatever way I can.’

There was something in his expression that told me if I refused him now then I’d never have a chance to find out what he really wanted with me, what future he saw. I reasoned with myself that the full nights sleep would do me good and maybe I should be selfish for a while.

I drove us both to my place in silence. It was a little awkward but it was better than being stood in the snow arguing. We had a quick drink, but soon ended up in bed facing each other.

‘You know you’re not going to die tomorrow.’ He said, his blue eyes scanning my face in the dim light.

‘I might, the anaesthesia might have a weird effect on me and I might not wake up.’ I reasoned, but instead of arguing, House just watched me.

‘Well, if this is the last night you have on this Earth, what would you want to do most?’

I thought about it and I realised that I’d rather be in bed with him, staring at each other, talking about nothing, than anything else I could think of.

‘This.’ I whispered and again watched him process the information.

‘Can I kiss you?’ House’s eyes darkened and I couldn’t do anything but let my gaze drop to his mouth.

House softly pressed his lips to mine, it was gentle and slow, like we were committing everything to memory, but never pushing for anymore. We spent the time tensing before I fell asleep, kissing softly and staring at each other trying to figure out what to do next.

‘Everything’s going to be okay.’ He breathed as my eyes closed, unable to keep them open anymore.

House was in the viewing gallery when she was being put under, he gave her a wink as her eyes began closing. She would be fine.

Wilson was waiting outside the surgery, he wasn’t expecting that.

‘Are you going to take her home?’

House didn’t answer he just walked past Wilson and headed to his office.

‘Were you with her last night?’ He asked, he was becoming more and more irritating by the minute. ‘House, you gotta give me something.’

He went into his office and began getting on with work.

The surgery went well, all the shrapnel was removed, she didn’t die or even present with any infection or issues afterwards. Anna would be perfectly fine. He took her home when she was ready to go and stayed with her for the week. He didn’t give her any updates on her department, he let her rest and relax while she had the chance.

‘You’re painting again?’ He asked, seeing a mark on her arm.

‘Oh, yeah just a little practising.’ She lied.

‘Why are you lying? If I go in your spare room, am I going to find a naked man?’ He teased, making her laugh. ‘Seriously, what’s going on?’

Anna gave in and went into her spare room, he saw a small canvas with a partially finished canvas, it was him, an almost photographic image of his face. She was good.

‘I thought, I had the time to practice so I’d give it a go again.’ She defended weakly. ‘It’s not finished or anything, I’m a little rusty.’

‘It’s perfect.’ He said. ‘You gave up painting to become a doctor.’

‘I didn’t consciously give it up, I just got busy.’ She said, standing next to him. ‘We done in here?’

‘Sure.’ House said and decided not to push her on it.

He played the piano for her while she ate and made sure she took her medication when she needed to. But at some point he knew they needed to have a proper conversation.

‘I like this.’ He said, watching her lay on the sofa, her eyes growing heavy. ‘I like being here, I mean the stairs are a pain, but I like being here… with you.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying we should be together.’ House knew this would be hard. ‘I’m saying I’m in love with you and we should be together.’ He waited for a few minutes for her response, but she didn’t say anything. ‘Do you have anything you want to say?’

Anna inhaled deeply and he watched a tear fall from the corner of her eye. ‘What does more mean for you?’

The one question he didn’t know how to answer. The one question she needed answered. If he could just figure it out, he had a chance to make this work.

‘It means whatever you want it to mean.’ He thought about it. ‘I don’t care what that is.’

Anna didn’t say anything, she just watched him and eventually he began playing the piano again. She fell asleep on the sofa and a part of him didn’t want to wake her up, but she would be in pain if she stayed there. He got her into bed and asked if he could stay, she smiled and nodded and finally he felt like they might have been on the right track.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#Greg House #greg house x reader #greg house x original female character #greg house fic #house md

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hey, I just need some validation :)

The worst of my issues is that I feel like I repressed trauma. It feels like an itch I can't scratch, I get glimpses of it, feelings, then it vanishes again. I often question myself if it is really a repressed memory or something else? Maybe I am not triggered by snowy landscapes, maybe I just dislike it and think it is eery? A normal reaction? I don't know but it feels so weird to talk about trauma you feel is there but can't remember. How am I going to explain it to people?

But idk this is probably the creepy thing about it: I feel if I think too much about it, it'll consume me. In rational words, it feels like I would get a very long flashback I won't be able to "leave". But the feeling is more creepy. Like when in a fantasy tv show people are forced to live through their worst memory for ever and ever, and have no plan how to leave it. When I think about triggering things or look at triggering stuff for too long, and don't force myself to look away, it feels like this would happen to me.

Idk it feels so invalid because maybe there is nothing, you know? Maybe it is something teensy. Idk. But it feels so huge.

I know I need a therapist for this, but find one first... And even then I wouldn't know how to describe it.

Hi anon,

When it comes to talking about potentially repressed memories I just like to reiterate (even if you already know this) that it's not my place to tell you if you are actually repressing something, I can only speculate, so please take what I say with a grain of salt. The only people that can make a more solid determination would either be yourself or a mental health professional. Assuming you are repressing something if you actually aren't could harm your mental health, so it's better to just play it safe. I do think that it could go either way here.

What you described could be characteristic of repressed trauma, and I'm curious if you'd say that the fear of indulging in these "triggers" is that the trauma would suddenly rush over you. If you were repressing something, sometimes it can force the trauma through the veil of repression and prematurely expose you to it. I personally find it helpful to think of repression as an airbag in a car accident. It protects you from the impact of the damage, so there's a reason it's there. Removing it prematurely could do harm, like experiencing depersonalization, a psychotic break, or other things.

As someone with PTSD, flashbacks always pass eventually but the emotional component can make it feel inescapable and like it might last forever. I think it's also possible that this idea of being stuck in some sort of endless trauma loop (forced to relive worst memories endlessly) could also just describe processing and healing from whatever trauma might be there. Cause personally that's how I feel in my situation. It's also natural to hesitate or dread processing and healing because it's hard, and in many cases you do have to "go there" and return to awful moments and feelings.

It's also possible that you could essentially be psyching yourself up in the sense that these thoughts could be reinforcing your negative association with these triggers and strengthening the dread and concern that you could have trauma. But even if you aren't repressing anything, how you feel about this is still valid.

if you do see a therapist, i think the way you've described it here would be a great starting point - you've outlined your experiences quite clearly, at least to me.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

[yellowocaballero]

Good Luck, Jake! followup qs for director's commentary :)

1. I was reading through some of the comments on Ch.4 before I read 5 and saw you talking about how you wrote each alter differently in the inner world vs. out in the real world, and I'm curious what your thought process was there?

2. Not to be like Sequel Now Please but I'm very curious if you had any thoughts on like What Happens Next at least in terms of working for the courthouse/Khonshu (I know your ideal ending is moving to Wakanda but interested to know how that would be Achieved)

Re: first point. The writing choice that basically encapsulates that is that all three of them have extremely distinct dialogue styles, and in the inner space they all talk very similarly.

It was actually a pretty quietly influential writing decision and it controlled a lot of the conversations. The inner world conversations were the space in the story to break down the motivations, emotions, and intentions of the characters. It was also the only space where I could have them genuinely interact with each other. It's the only point in the story where they're honest with themselves and with each other. Uh basically there's a lot of things I need them to say that they would never normally say because they're too repressed or amnesiac so I needed to un-repress and re-memory them.

It changes their character a lot. This is particularly important for Steven, since Steven never fucking knows what's happening irl for consistent amnesia/Jake bullying reasons. He's a lot more controlled by his environment, actions, stressors, social anxiety, etc, irl. He's really emotional and it affects him. Jake in the mindspace is also much more observant and canny where in irl he's yelling about how he's unknowable and throwing things. It's a huge signal of how Jake fronting for so long has changed him that he's so emotional and irrational during his post-breakdown conversation with Steven. And I needed Steven to be canny and Jake to be emotional in that scene because I needed to break down to the reader what exactly happened. They basically get superego'd. As I said, rule is you can't have the brain cell if you're fronting.

Marc sometimes has a really different inner space experience. It's id. When he's emotional irl that kinda hysteric voice in his head is what pops up there. You know the voice I'm talking about. The 'I'm gonna die ALONE' voice.

Think of it like. You know how in the shower you can make a REALLY good and logical argument? And how when you prepare what to say to someone beforehand when you want to Do A Conflict you're super rational and intelligent? But when you're actually in that situation and in front of the person and you're panicking all that flies out the window and you're a moron? Yeah.

Why did that take so long to explain.

Re: second point. No clue how they escape from Khonshu, that's a distant 'far future which I will probably not write' thing. As for like what their life looks like post-good luck jake.

I would really love to like get into it. But that would kinda spoil the stuff I have very much already written. Like of course I have written this. Come on. I finished good luck jake 6 weeks ago I've been busy. So if what I've written ever shapes up into something coherent you'll find out later lol.

#my writing #Marc's Welbutrin is the name of that story #that's a joke.

[incomingalbatross]

1.05 “The Broca Divide” pt 2:

I want to throw the first half of Everlasting Man at the entire concept of this episode.

All right, though, I'll admit that "She... tried to seduce me." "Oh! ...You poor man" is a very funny exchange. Maybe it’s just the awkwardness. Maybe it’s Daniel’s deadpan. Maybe it’s that they both seem able to accept it as just an awkward occupational hazard of Gate travel—sometimes your teammate may try to seduce you, and all you can do is fend them off, fix the problem, and move on.

Ooh, I like how Jack seems to be talking in a completely rational tone, even as his sentiments get more off-the-wall, all the way up to the “physically whaling on Daniel” point. It’s disturbing. Again, subtlety and incomplete corruption is often spookier than a sudden and complete takeover.

Daniel, realizing that two of his friends have been taken by this dumb Caveman Disease: all right, now I’m mad >:(

“Mr. Teal’c” aw, I appreciate your courtesy, Janet

“I think it's safe to say they aren't born primitive, they must have this very contagious disease, and we came in contact with them... isn't that special.” Have I mentioned I enjoy Daniel being sarcastic and aggravating? It’s lots of fun.

Oh hey, this means Daniel and Teal’c have to interact because they’re the only sane team members left! GOOD.

AND they have to go on a mission with just the two of them. Into the deep end, considering we really haven’t seen them interact directly before.

First “Daniel Jackson” from Teal’c!! (Incidentally, I think we can assume Teal’c is very very focused on “do NOT let Daniel Jackson die while offworld under my protection,” right now.)

Daniel instinctively moving to help the new leper-girl they see unconscious and getting mad about her abandonment is correct Daniel Jackson Behavior. More of that, please, Daniel.

...Oh, yeah, Daniel and Teal’c are not a good team right now. Teal’c is very focused on fulfilling his duty, accomplishing their objectives, and not endangering either the mission or themselves (again, I think that’s about Daniel, thought he didn’t say so), and is not up for arguing. Daniel has seen a helpless person in need by the side of the road, and Teal’c telling him what to do just activates his contrarian streak. Also, they have no built up trust yet, not really. They’re completely out of sync... which is how Daniel can get abducted by the cavemen while Teal’c is trying to fend them off and doesn’t notice.

Jack, his mind 80% gone, clinging to shreds of coherency induced by the dangerous level of sedative he begged for: “Experiment... on me. Use me.” HE’S STILL TRYING TO PROTECT HIS PEOPLE. 

HAVE I MENTIONED JACK O’NEILL IS THE BEST.

(Also, fighting to retain his self and save others while being driven mad is distressingly on brand for Colonel Jack O’Neill and we WILL be seeing this behavior again. JACK.)

The ruler of the Land of Light is a PUNK and his clothes are RIDICULOUS and I hope Teal’c punches him.

Aw, no, he knocked out the guards instead, because the leader ran away from Teal’c like the punk he is.

The prosthetic caveman eyebrows are very funny. I forgot about them.

Oh GOSH. Teal’c’s actions after losing Daniel were 1) go to the Land of Light people and ask them to help him find Daniel. 2) When they refused to help at all, take blood samples by force. 3) Return to Earth and give Dr. Frasier said blood sample. 4) Go to Jack’s cell (again, Jack is barely cognizant) and immediately confess his fault in losing Daniel.

That... that’s a meta in itself about how Teal’c’s mind works, and his ethics and honor and decision-making process at this point in his character. Even without dialogue points like his insistence that “It is not a curse. It is a disease,” because Teal’c hates superstition, and his anger at people who are in their own way living—as he used to!—in a culture of cruelty born from despair. It just. It’s a lot.

Janet, trying to explain her scientific breakthrough to Jack (barely articulate) and Teal’c (knows no science): Tough crowd huh

Oh NO Teal’c is gently moving Jack to lie down on the bed before leaving him, while they wait for the treatment to work? Teal’c is PUTTING A BLANKET OVER HIM? I wasn’t prepared for that.

And of COURSE he proceeds to sit outside Jack’s cell door, meditating, until Jack yells for him. Where else would he be.

“Lucy! I’m ho-ome!” Another classic exchange. (And I’m trying to decide if Teal’c is trying to make joke, re: “You may still be confused.” He could have been! Hi poker face is too good to tell.)

Okay I KNOW they were in a literal plague-outbreak situation and probably didn’t have any able bodies but you’d still think they could have sent SOMEBODY to go pick up Daniel from caveman-land a little earlier? Or maybe it WAS pretty early and they didn’t show it well, I dunno. I just did not feel the urgency i would have expected here.

Daniel’s first conscious word was “Jack.” Yeah, that’s typical. (I say this with affection.)

Teal’c was carrying his glasses. When did he even pick them up? I don’t know! But here we are again with the acts of service!

SG-1, repeatedly and vehemently whenever they come to a post-Goa’uld world: “WE ARE NOT GODS! NO, REALLY. STOP WITH THE KNEELING.”

Next time for SG-1: Sam’s Crazy Ex!

I haven’t actually watched that one before, so should be interesting.

#chappa'ai time #anyway the *important* thing here is that Teal'c Loves His Friends

[koboldinatimeloop]

Chapter 0: Prologue

It's a new day! You've just got out of bed, your myriad of blankets pressing against each other as they settle into the space you used to occupy. It's an important day, for all kobolds in your den, and you specifically, as well! For it is the day you're named! The day you've chosen to embrace your colony's dragon, Syptem, and gain a little bit of his power!

At least. that's how you should feel. In reality, you weren't feeling your best today, for the prior mentioned reasons. You've dreaded this day for a while, the past 23 years to be precise. You were one of the last kobolds in the den to be free of the dragon's gift, a gift most would fight each other for. Yet you knew you wouldn't be the same if you accepted it. Those who took the gift seemed to magically brighten up, magically become better at what they were bad at, magically become perfect! And yet. You wanted to achieve this for yourself.

Walking over to a small desk, you read over your plan once more. A plan you yourself wrote, in handwriting not too dissimilar from chicken scratch. "Step 1: Make a wish to the local shrine of the God of the Deep for luck. Step 2: Sell some stuff from your house, accrue some gold to please the dragon with for: Step 3: Offer your gold to the dragon, and apologize when you deny his gift." Surely, if you explain your thought process, he'll understand! He was so kind, so nice. Nice enough to offer you, someone unwilling, someone plagued with issues, his gift. Surely, he would understand!

You took a look in the mirror before you left. No one would want you looking bad, and being nice and shiny couldn't hurt your chances with the dragon! Your lavender scales sparkled in the bioluminescent moss lighting the room, highlighted by the specks and flakes of gold and black sprinkled here and there, like obsidian and gold. It wasn't, of course, but you could dream. Picking something else up off your desk, and slinging it over your shoulders, you walked to the door while absentmindedly reaching into the thing, checking your stock. Inside the satchel, there was:

2 Bottles of water, just in case there was a thirsty plant.

2 Emergency rations, just in case there was a hungry not plant.

1 Notebook, and 3 pieces of charcoal, just in case you got a good idea while you were out.

A Knife. For self-defense. You'd never needed to use it before, since everyone in your den was nice, but you never know! Better safe than sorry, as they say.

Several bundles of things you planned to sell, according to step 2 of your plan.

And finally, a handmade charm, to give to the God of the Deep when you visit his statue. You've read all about the rituals, and you think this one will actually work, in granting you a wish!

And so, with your plan, your supplies, and a fire in your heart, you set out, one-hundred percent sure it would be a great day!

#creative writing #writing #koboldinatimeloop #time loop #well not yet but #close enough? #I suppose? #Kobold

[hisadoringkitten]

You were right.

You're always right. I'm very quickly learning that first hand. There is a power, a magic to you that I can't understand, and I love it. You told me of the importance of the stars, lunar cycles, the eclipse...

On Monday, April 8th, 2024, my 10 year anniversary... there was a full lunar eclipse in the afternoon. You told me to expect things to get weird, even for days prior and after. You were right. No matter how badly I wanted to postpone the conversation with him, it was upon us.

I couldn't sleep again. It's becoming my normal now, to wake before the sun to some small tug in the bond we share. I don't mind it in the least. It usually gives us a chance to talk a bit in the mornings, and I love it, especially since i always seem to wake up wet for you. You are my last thought, and my first and I'd have it no other way. Tension with him had been building slowly. He's noticing all the changes in me. Particularly after getting caught up on a bunch of financial stuff I'd been putting off dealing with. I told him a few days prior that I didn't want to just lie in bed all morning if I couldn't sleep, that I'd rather use that time to be productive, so I got up. Talking to you and thinking about how things might go when I finally told him... worrying about the timing and not being financially prepared to leave if need be. Worried about the kids.

He didn't wake up next to me. It started something ugly and heated in the morning that grew quickly and spiraled out of control. I tried to tell him it wasn't the time, to enjoy our anniversary and we'd figure it all out later. He wasn't having it. Days and nights of rising tension coming to a boil, and I couldn't steer clear anymore. It all broke, all at once.

You'd have been proud to see it, Even through tears and frustration, I kept it mostly calm and rational. I explained my needs, what I was lacking, what he was neglecting, and how it was affecting me. I explained that I know it's not fair to ask for more than he can give, but that without it, I'd die. I'd simply wither away in front of him... that I had been for years and that I was on the precipice. I either needed to fly or dash myself against the rocks below trying.

Tears, stillness, hurt, anger, frustration, betrayal... and then... acceptance. He suggested You like it was his idea, I granted him that mercy. I don't want to hurt him but he's been letting me drown for years and it's my fucking turn for air. Just as the eclipse began, something shifted, and he saw my desperation and pain. As we reached totality, I sighed, closed my eyes, and wished to find a solution, to bring me closer to You, to find our peace, to try and make this work all above board for my family's sake. At least long enough to prepare an exit strategy. A silent prayer to just, please, let me a chance at fulfillment as yours. It was agonizing watching the eclipse with the kids, trying not to let them see the turmoil. I asked for some space. He needed it, too.

As the light returned to normal, and my children went inside... I sat alone while he processed everything said that morning. No, not alone, I sat with you, updating you, afraid you'd be upset... I could hear him, even from outside, muffled as he screamed into the pillows. It was a long while, but in the end, he agreed... to let me serve you as yours. It's begun to settle. He needs a lot of reassurance, but he's relinquished control to you.

Now and always, I am, in every way, yours. I've always been yours, destined to serve you, made to please you, written in our stars.