#reach like a certain threshold of stress

[dernisseznirp]

While I love spoon theory, I often feel like it doesn't convey what is going on with me, cause for me it's sometimes less of a "too little energy" thing and more of a "how much effort does it add" which is probably kinda the same thing but thought the other way around.

So my girlfriend is a dog trainer, and she has been introduced to "The Bucket" which is a concept to theorize stimulation and overwhelm in dogs. But we've been using it for ourselves as well, cause we just think it's neat. I'm gonna skip the part of explaining it on dogs directly and go over to humans.

Essentially, everyone has a bucket that's like how much you got going on and how much you can handle. Your stress/stimuli threshold, so to speak. Ideally, that bucket is empty. Stimuli and stress fill the bucket, and once it overflows is when you hit your limit and reach like overwhelm territory, which can also lead to like meltdowns, slowed processing, forgetfulness, panic attacks or whatever your individual high stress/overwhelm response is. And some kinds of stress don't fill my bucket at all, while others really do.

However, there's a hole in the bottom of the bucket, which is helping you empty your bucket again. So it doesn't have to overflow at all, if you got a big bucket (like a big threshold for stress/sensory) or a big hole in the bucket (like, the stress doesn't phase you too long and the stress "flows out" faster than it flows in). With certain kinds of techniques and training, you can make that hole bigger, meaning you can let go of that stress faster and easier and prevent overflows in general.

For some reason, this works better for me personally as a metaphor for my energy and what I'm able to do, and I also find myself visualising it better than the spoons.

I hope the way I explained it makes sense.

#actually adhd #adhd things #sensory issues #sensory overload #for some reason i feel people will hate this or tell me thats a thing already lol

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {II}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I waited until, like, midnight to post this. As the school year approaches, I find myself in a constant state of panic and stress. Haha. Anyways, thank you for reading the prologue and chapter 1! I love seeing your feedback. This chapter is fairly light in the way of trigger warnings, but as always, know that this story contains the following. Thank you for reading! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta

The gown I’m wearing cost more than what my sisters, father, and I spent in a year on clothing only a few years ago. It’s a stunning deep blue that brings out my eyes. The skirt is full and the bodice is laced in beads that sparkle when they hit the light. A braid crowns my head and the bruise has faded on my cheek enough that the powder covers it. 

I wait in the foyer for Tomas who seems to be taking his sweet time. It takes a certain level of disrespect to keep someone waiting for an extended period of time, but it’s the least of the cruelties that my husband inflicts upon me. 

Just when I’m ready to board the carriage alone, Tomas comes down the grand staircase dressed in his finest. He is handsome, only a few years older than myself. He’s wearing his full evening dress, and even I, who loathes him, has to admit that he looks fine in tails. I hate it, hate that he’s handsome, hate that I have to hang on his arm all evening instead of gracing the dance floor. 

The carriage ride is silent. We sit on opposite benches, facing one another. We’ve nearly reached our destination by the time he speaks.

“How was your afternoon?”

His words are so sudden that it makes me jump. I clear my throat. “Fine, I suppose. I went to the dressmaker and had tea with Gwyn and Emerie.”

He cringes at the informal use of my closest friends’ names. I rarely see them and know that Tomas disapproves, even if he’s never said it outright. “Lovely, dear.”

I do not progress the conversation, I simply let it drop and stare out the window once more. 

When the coach stops, we are sitting in front of a grand townhouse. It’s massive, larger than our own home in town. I’ve not been here before nor do I know the owner. It’s one of Tomas’ many business partners, the names of whom I don’t bother to memorize. 

Nonetheless, the home we enter is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I’m mesmerized as I cross the threshold. 

Everything is black, but it is elegant. Among the dark interior, there are paintings of the night sky, murals on the ceiling of the famous starlight of Velaris. White roses are strung throughout the hall, the stark petals leading to the ballroom, where people are gathered and a string quartet plays. 

“Beautiful,” I breathe, allowing myself to be dragged by Tomas.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” It’s clear he’s not paying attention to me, but right now I don’t mind. “Chin up. Back straight. Don’t speak unless you’ve been asked a direct question. Think wisely about your answers before you voice them.”

I don’t respond. A sudden, familiar emptiness fills my core.

We round the ballroom until we’re gathered with a herd of people I don’t know but Tomas seems to. My arm remains looped through his and I smile, completely charmed, as voices surround us. The conversation is nothing more than muddled noise that I ignore as my eyes scan my surroundings. I watch as gentlemen ask the young ladies of Velaris to dance. I watch as they take to the floor and follow the commonly known steps while the music plays jovially from the platform near the corner. 

I envy them. I used to love to dance, used to come alive as the music played. Even now, I feel it in my bones while the quartet plays and I feel nothing but dread as I remain perfectly still, side by side with my husband. I don’t show it, though. The smile remains plastered on my face and I nod politely as each new person is introduced to me.

“Care for a smoke, Mandray?” 

Tomas looks at me and frowns, but I smile politely. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’ll get a drink and stand with the other married ladies.” 

He thinks for a minute, but then he nods and his arm slips from mine, giving me a sudden sense of freedom. I know he doesn't like leaving me alone in a room full of people but to decline an offer would speak of a weakness in both our marriage and his manhood, so he leaves me be. 

True to my word, I walk toward the refreshments table and grab a filled champagne flute. The bubbles tickle going down my throat and I can’t help my foot as it begins to tap along with the tune. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

I spin around, nearly flinging the fillings of my glass over the rim as I do so. A man stands behind me, tall and broad-shouldered, smiling kindly. His hair is long, which I find ridiculous, even if it’s pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck. He’s handsome, but not as a gentleman should be. He looks as if he should be working by the docks or in a lumber yard, perhaps in the mines. He looks more like a man that would live in my old village, not a member of high society. 

“The music?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes. Beautiful.”

I turn away from him, back towards the quartet. I watch as they expertly handle their instruments. 

“Would you care to dance?” 

My back stiffens as I turn to face my intruder once more. “Pardon?”

“Dance?” he asks, and his hazel eyes are lit with humor. “You know…what they’re all doing out there. Having fun.” 

Fun.

That was a word I haven’t heard in a long while, a word I haven’t felt. The offer is tempting and part of me wants to say yes, just to feel alive for a few minutes. 

“I’m married,” I say, simply.

He stares at me. Blinks. “And?”

My brows, I swear, shoot up into my hairline. “And…that means I cannot dance with you.” 

“Does it?” he asks, and a stupid, cocky little grin lifts the side of his mouth. “I don’t recall reading that in the rulebook.”

Knowing full well there isn’t a rule book, I feel my eyes narrow. “You, sir, are awfully inappropriate.”

“It is not inappropriate to ask a Lady to dance.”

“But it is to ask a married woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…”

“Nazari. Lord Cassian—”

“Yes, well, thank you for the offer but I obviously must decline.” I hand my half-emptied glass to a passing server and go to step around Lord Cassian. 

He steps in front of me. “I did not catch your name.”

“My name is not yours to know,” I say, and try to step around him yet again.

He follows me once more. “Please do not make me endure the rest of the night without us being properly introduced.”

I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool. “Lady Mandray.” 

That cocky smile of his fades, and he’s left staring at me looking completely unsettled. “You’re married to Tomas Mandray?”

“I am,” I say, the words feeling hollow as they leave me. 

He nods and bows his head. “Very well. I apologize for the disruption of your evening. Enjoy the music.”

Before I can reply, he’s hurrying far away from me. It seems my husband has the same effect on strangers that he does on me. 

His reaction makes me think a little better of the man I just met, as awful as that may seem.

I do not join the other married women. They don’t seem to like me all that much and I honestly don’t care for them. The conversations are meaningless and I don’t care to answer over and over again how soon we’ll be having children. I wish Emerie and Gwyn were here. Although they’re at some of the events that I’m dragged to, they rarely come to the balls. They are not married nor are they looking for husbands, claiming and content to be spinsters, but that is what drew me to them in the first place, their freedom even in society. 

So I stand here, close to the refreshments even though I’ve given up my glass. I watch young gentlemen and ladies dance, watch as they smile and laugh and move freely to the music. And I can’t help when my eyes find Lord Cassian as he speaks with another young lady across the hall. His body is so relaxed, his smile so easy, and I loathe him for that.

Jealousy is a bitch and it’s all I seem to be feeling tonight. Jealousy, and loneliness.

…….

Cassian 

“Would you like me to introduce you to Mandray?” 

My smile falters and I clear my throat. “Of course. Eh, let’s hope that the fact that I tried to charm his wife doesn’t ruin his impression of me.”

Beside me, Azriel snorts. Rhysand’s lips form a tight line. “You hit on his wife?”

“I didn’t know she was his wife,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I didn’t know she was anyone’s wife. I saw a pretty woman. I asked her to dance.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrow. “Why do I feel that wasn’t the end of the conversation?”

I sip from my champagne.

Pretty isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Lady Mandray, but I can’t tell my brothers that she is, by far, the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I have ever crossed paths with. Traditional beauty had been thrown out the window and replaced with a cold, intricate beauty that was unknown to society and the world beyond. The type of beauty that was Lady Mandray could not be replicated. No, I wouldn’t tell them that. That would be inappropriate and although I love the inappropriate most of the time, being inappropriate with the man I’m attempting to invest with to boost my fortune seems to be crossing a line.

“Well, let’s hope his wife remains quiet and no one overheard,” Rhysand says, shaking his head. “It would be just like you to cause a scandal at my event, of all places.” 

“No scandal, just a misunderstanding,” I assure him. At least, I try to. The look in his eye tells me to watch myself for the remainder of the evening. I try not to let that piss me off as I take another drink. 

Just as I’m about to ask Rhys to make the introduction, I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and a slow smile spreads across my lips. There’s someone I could have fun with and cause no scandal.

None that hasn’t been spread before, anyway. 

“One dance, then I’ll meet Mandray.” I’m moving before the words are out of my mouth. I move around the outskirts of the dancefloor, tossing my drink aside on the way, until I’m stopping behind a long-legged blonde in a red dress.

I bow. “Miss Morrigan.”

She’s turning, eyes narrowed, before I stand back at full height. “I swear, every time you call me that it makes me hate you just a little bit more.” 

“You don’t hate me.” I grin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t accept the dance I’m about to offer you and we both know that you can’t say no to a dance with me.” 

With a roll of her eyes, she takes my outstretched hand and we join the other dancers as a quadrille begins. It’s not the best dance for conversation but we seem to carry one anyway without caring about those around us. 

“You’re late,” I say, as the music becomes lively. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Missed me?” she asks with a wink. “You missed tea this past Monday. Maybe I was angry with you.”

We come together and spin around as I ask, “No, I just figured you were holed up with someone you weren’t supposed to be again.”

Her eyes grow bright as we part and the softest shade of pink tinges her cheeks. She looks around to make sure those closest to us didn’t hear, but I know they didn’t. It takes a few seconds for us to come back together, but when she does she says, “No, that was last weekend. Tonight I just felt like arriving late so that everyone would have to look at me as I entered.” 

It worked. It always did. Mor was stunning, beautiful to everyone who looked her way. She took my virginity, and I took hers, when we were teenagers. It was awkward and horrible and I lasted no more than twenty seconds. It took her a long time to convince me that such a horribly awkward experience wasn’t what opened her eyes to realizing that she didn’t like men at all in such a way — a fact that only a few of us know and keep secret in her honor. Me, Azriel, Rhys, our friend Amren. We’ll keep that secret until we no longer walk this earth. 

But, it’s nice to know that she finds someone to spend her time with every now and then. I want to ask about the mystery woman that she spent the weekend with, but it’ll have to wait until Monday’s tea time. 

The dance ends a minute later and we all take our bow, then I’m sweeping her to where Rhysand and Azriel are in deep conversation with a group of young ladies. Mor’s arm loops through mine when I see her. 

Lady Mandray is watching me, and I can tell she’s pissed that I caught her. I offer her a smile, but maybe it comes off a bit too cocky because her pursed lips seem to amplify. She quickly turns on her heels and exits the room, which leaves me confused and strangely aroused. 

Mor catches me looking and leans in closer. “And who is that?”

“The wife of Lord Tomas Mandray,” I answer, my smile fading. “Met earlier tonight. We didn’t hit it off.”

Mor gasps, patting my arm. “Lord Cassian Nazari didn’t instantly sweep a woman off her feet? My, my. You must be getting old.”

I shoot her a look that makes her grin widen, but we say nothing more as we reach our destination. I fall into the chaos that consists of the ladies of Velaris desperately wanting to charm a man into becoming their husbands until we politely dismiss ourselves to find Lord Mandray. 

We find him in a smoke-filled room full of gentlemen and Rhysand makes the introduction. We talk for no more than two minutes before he’s called away, apparently a much sought after man of high society. 

After those two minutes, I deduce two things.

One: investing with him will make me more money in a month than all my tenants combined make me in a year. 

Two: I would hate to be the woman married to that asshole. 

#nessian #nesta #cassian #nesta archeron #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #period au #19th century au

[the-final-sif]

Alright, so c!Sam and c!Dream have gotten free from the hunters, and they're on the run. Sam is blind creepertaur, and Dream is a hybrid (surprise!) whose annoyed af right now.  But they've gotta move! Welcome to the Apology Cake AU pt 2, an AU name that won't make sense in this post or the next one!

So, luckily our boys have a headstart. The hunters don’t know where they’ve gone, and Dream knows where he’s going. He remembers how to get home. He can feel it pulling him still.

Navigating through different SMPs involves finding places where the world is weak, where there’s an overlap between worlds, an experienced traveler can then pass from one world to the next. Some worlds will only allow certain people through, some will take anyone.

Dream can tell that they’re about four worlds away from their SMP. He tells Sam this as the two of them run. The first world hop isn’t too far away, and it’s a vital one. Mobs can’t make jumps without a lot of prep, and world-hopping leaves mobs exhausted, anxious and out of it. Meaning the hunters won’t have horses or dogs to help them after the hop.

The two of them are racing to make it. They know the hunters will have their trail soon, and they’re still slow (and it bothers Sam, because he can tell he’s the issue. He’s the one that keeps stumbling, keeps tripping over every root and forcing Dream to slow down again and again. Part of Sam almost wants to let go of Dream’s hands, as the shouts start getting closer, as he can hear hooves in the distance. Dream could still run, he should run. The man was fast, fast enough to get away with ease. But Sam is scared and selfish, and he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to end up in a ring. He wants to make it out alive, and Dream is his only chance. So Sam holds tightly and pushes forward as best he can).

The noise behind them draws closer and closer, but then Dream is pulling and Sam can feel when they reach the border.

When you reach a border, there’s different places to make the jump. Some are easier, some are risky. Most people get to the center of a jump zone.

The moment they reach the threshold, Dream is pulling at the magic that keeps the worlds apart and tearing a hole. It’s determined and not careless but ruthless. Just big enough for the two of them. Sam is helpless to do anything but follow.

They make the jump. It’s a harsh one, and at some point in the middle Sam loses his grip on Dream’s hand. It’s only for a second, but it’s one of the most terrifying moments of his life. Then Dream’s hand is back, grasping tighter. It doesn’t slip again.

Sam needs a second after the jump, but that’s all he gets. The moment they’ve got the air of a new world in their lungs, Dream is pulling him forward again. They’ve got a lead again, the hunters will need to dismount and get ready for a hop. Most of them have enchanted armor or weapons, stuff that won’t pass through. Still, who knows how long it will last.

The two of them keep pushing on, their pace fast but not quite as breakneck as before. By the time they take a break, the sun is high in the sky. Or at least, that’s what Sam assumes. He can still feel it’s warmth, even if he can’t see it.

Dream helps Sam get food and water out from his pack. They’ve stopped along a river, so Dream takes the chance to refill their bottles. He says the water looks fine, they’re close to the spring. Sam has no way of knowing better. He just has to take his word for it.

That thought brings back Sam’s nerves. Relying on Dream of all people- it’s terrifying. He gets nervous whenever Dream isn’t making noise. Whenever he can’t tell exactly where Dream is.

“What are you?” The words leave his mouth, and Sam physically cringes. He didn’t mean- God, he might not be great with people, but he knew better than to ask it like that. He just- he was stressed. “Sorry, it’s just- you aren’t human.”

Sam could feel the unimpressed glare Dream levied him with. After several painfully long seconds, he got an annoyed huff.

“None of your business. I’ll be human again by the time we get home.”

In fairness, Dream was right. It really wasn’t his business. It shouldn’t matter what Dream was. Sam wasn’t- Hell, Sam was a creeper hybrid. He should know it didn’t matter. But all the same, curiosity was a dangerous temptation. That last part...

“Are you still-”

There wasn’t a good way to finish that question, so Sam let it hang awkwardly instead.

“Yeah. It’s- it’s an advantage. Right now, we need anything we can get.”

“Oh. Yeah. Makes sense.” Sam tolerated silence for a minute longer, moving one of his paws to dab at the stream. It took him several tries to find the water, but he managed.

“Why- I mean, half the SMP’s a hybrid.” It was a none-issue on the SMP. Mostly. Sure, maybe Dream could be one of the more out there ones, but Sapnap was a blaze and Bad was part demon. It couldn’t get much worse than that.

“Again, none of your business.” A beat of tense silence. “It’s not- It’s not a big deal. I just, I got used to it. Now it just feels weird.”

Sam nodded, as something in the back of his head reminded him of an evening with Ponk. Something about hybrids spending too long using magic to appear human ending up feeling alien in their hybrid forms. There was a term for it, but Sam couldn’t remember what it was.

“Come on, we need to keep moving.”

As he spoke, Dream reached out to take Sam’s hand, tugging him to his feet and starting up again at a walking pace. Careful to guide them away from the stream’s slippery slopes.

Their pace picked up slowly, reaching a trot but no longer a full on sprint. It gave Sam unwanted time to think.

Dream’s hands still felt... human. There was no fur or sharp claws, although his nails felt hardened. That could be a lot of things though. Hybrids also presented differently.

Part of Sam wanted to believe that Dream was a cat out of spite, something in genes felt petty like that. He ignored that part of him. Dream didn’t feel like a cat. There was no loud swish of a tail (although there was a faint swish of something, sometimes).

Besides, cats were (loathe as Sam was to admit it) mostly harmless to things their own size. They were cute to most people. Dream could not be cute, therefore, Dream was not a cat.

An Enderman maybe? It’d explain his odd relationship with Ranboo. Or maybe a wolf? Something vicious surely-

Fuck. Sam found himself torn. He knew better then to think those things. To fall into stereotypes. Still, didn’t all stereotypes come from somewhere? You’d be hardpressed to find someone who’d argue the average piglin hybrid wasn’t a lot more dangerous than a human.

Sam found himself trapped in a back and forth, one only broken by occasionally piping up to check on their progress. And sometimes just to make a comment, just something to break the silence.

When his mind wasn’t on trying to guess what type of hybrid Dream was, it was still focused on Dream. Or more specifically, on Dream’s hands.

Sam couldn’t help but feel the scars. Feel the way the fingers bent just a little wrong. Feel what he’d done. What he’d allowed. He didn’t want to think about it, but he didn’t have a choice.

Sometimes Dream’s grip would tighten, and at first he took it as a sign of potential danger, but quickly realized that wasn’t right. Dream’s pace didn’t change. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the motion was involuntary. Dream’s fingers must be seizing up from gripping onto him for so long.

Did it hurt? Sam wondered. It must. Dream swapped hands each time they took a break. He wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t getting sore.

Despite this, Dream never complained. Never even mentioned it. He complained about other stuff- Sam’s slow pace, or when Sam would ask too many questions. About the heat, and the mud they had to walk through at one point.

But Dream never mentioned his hands. Nor did he ever hesitate to reach out and guide Sam forward.

Against all odds, Dream never wavered. Never so much as threatened to leave Sam behind. As if he didn’t even consider that an option.

Sam- Well. He didn’t quite know what to make of that. It was good for him, he supposed. 

He tried not to think about it too much.

By nightfall, they’ve reached the second jump point. A nice, wide, open jump point. Easy to pass through.

This time they can make their way to the center. Dream is twitchy. Quiet. Unhappy. He keeps tapping his feet. Sam can hear it in the still night air. Maybe he’s checking for traps? Sam finds his own pace growing a little more unsteady. Taking a moment to tap before realizing it was dumb. If there were traps, Dream would run into them first. And then- Well, they were probably fucked if that happened.

Luck was on their side though it seemed, there were no traps. They passed through the jump point safely.

In fact, the next day and a half passed by without any issues at all. This world was bigger than the last they’d traveled through, they had to take more breaks, they had to sleep (Sam almost passed out, having to almost beg Dream to take a break. Dream bitched, but complied when he realized Sam really couldn’t go any farther. Sam slept for six hours. He was pretty sure Dream didn’t sleep at all.)

Dream checked on Sam’s injuries, and assured him they looked fine. All of them ached, but most of Sam’s body ached. he wasn’t built for endurance like Dream was apparently.

By the time they were nearing the third jump point, Dream was growing increasing agitated. Every other step there was an extra beat to his gait. Thumping his foot against the ground. It was starting to get on Sam’s nerves.

“Can you- Can you knock that off?”

Instantly, Dream twisted, he didn’t stop moving forward though. Sam couldn’t see him, but he could feel how his arm moved with his torso.

“Knock what off? I’m literally not doing anything.” Dream’s voice was nearly a hiss. Grumpy and dangerous.

For a moment, Sam considered dropping it. It wasn’t that big of a deal. And he really didn’t want to piss Dream off. But then Dream thumped again and Sam couldn’t help himself.

“That! The weird thumping thing! You’ll give us away!” It was a stupid argument, if anything, Dream’s footsteps were barely audible. Sam only noticed the thumping because he had so little to pay attention to. His own footsteps were much heavier, much more likely to be heard.

“What are you-” And then Dream froze, as his foot thumped again. As if he only now realized he was doing it. The man tried to recover.

“I don’t- it’s not going to give us away. I’m not thumping. I’m just using a different gait. It- it helps me slow down. Because I can’t walk at a normal pace if I’m lugging you around.” Dream sounded defensive, he sounded like he was lying. Although Sam couldn’t for the life of him guess why.

Sam opened his mouth to argue back, only for Dream to freeze for real this time. Signalling Sam to shut up.

“I knew it.” Dream hissed under his breath, seeing something Sam couldn’t. Sam wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to risk speaking. Dream gave him two taps before letting go of his hand. It was only for a minute, likely just so Dream could scout out the area, but it brought back Sam’s anxiety full force. What if he’d pissed Dream off by bringing up the thumping and now he was leaving him? Sam was in the middle of the woods. He barely knew what direction to walk in. If the hunters didn’t kill him, the mods surely would.

Before his thoughts could go any further, Dream was back, pulling Sam in the opposite direction of where they’d been headed. Sam didn’t question it, not until Dream finally explained.

“They pearled ahead. They’re camping the jump point. That’s why we haven’t had them on our tail.”

Shit.

“What- What are we going to do? Is there another jump?”

“No- Or- I don’t know. I don’t know how to find another one. We have to use this one.”

“Can we fight them?”

“There’s at least ten on this side, armed to the teeth. I’d bet you anything there’s more on the other too.”

“So then... ?”

“If it was just me, I’d risk it, but we won’t both get through, so we’re going to have to make a very risky jump.”

Dream didn’t mean anything by it, but Sam felt those words pierce him. Dream would’ve done it if Sam wasn’t here. If Sam wasn’t pure liability. 

No time for that now though.

“A risky-”

Just as Sam said those words, he felt the warmth of the sun fade and the grass dirt under his feet turned to something harder. Not quite stone, but it would be soon. He could feel the air grow colder as Dream lead him deeper into what must be a cave.

After a moment, it clicked for Sam.

“You can’t be serious- there’s no way.”

“It’s our best bet.”

“Do the caves even reach the jump point?”

“Yeah, I checked- I could, I could tell. It doesn’t, it doesn’t feel terrible either. Like, it’s a risky jump, but I think it’ll be okay. I think there’s a cave on the other side. It feels... weird. Like there’s something off about it. Might be a dungeon or something. But whatever it is, it’ll be better than hunters.”

Sam didn’t like it, but he didn’t have a better idea, so he followed Dream down through the winding tunnels. Dream, oddly, seemed more at ease within the confined cave walls. Sam felt the opposite. He felt trapped. Like a sitting duck.

As they neared the jump point again, Sam realized something.

“Wait, do you have a torch?”

“Nope. Light would make us an easy target. Besides, there’s lichen around.”

Despite the lack of light, Dream seemed to navigate with ease. Huh. He had low-light vision or some other method of pathfinding. Sam noted that in the back of his mind. He didn’t have long to dwell though.

Dream spoke up as they reached the edge of the jump point.

“When we do this, they’ll know. And they’ll be after us. They won’t except us to be down here, but it won’t take them too long to follow. We’re gonna need to run, and we’re gonna need to keep quiet. Got that?”

Sam nodded, and upon realizing that Dream wouldn’t be able to see him now either, he gave a squeeze of affirmation.

They had reached the spot. Dream was right. The jump felt... off. A yellow flag. But not a red flag. Not something that was going to get them glitched into a wall.

Dream hesitated for only a moment.

“Whatever happens, just make sure you hold on. I can handle whatever’s on the other side. Just... trust me.”

And Sam, well, what choice did he have?

Dream leapt, and Sam leapt too. Hoping this would work. Hoping that they were finally close to freedom.

#c!sam #c!dream #c!awesamdude #dreblr #prison duo #c!awesamdream #apology cake au #sif speaks #sif writes

[musashi]

feel free to ignore if unwarranted or unhelpful seriously : i deeply relate to going from having extremely close friends you tell everything to to have basically no one you can open up to despite trying to make connections. i have a therapist who has never once advised me to make friends and has instead helped me untangle my feelings in a way that makes the load a little less to bear. i am poor poor so free clinic as well. you are not me but this has made daily life bearable

i really wish people who are sad sometimes online had any agency in their own life to say "i do not think i need therapy" and be taken seriously, but i feel like every time i say it and say it firmly here, a bunch of anons like this (and sometimes trusted friends as well) just start shaking their heads and clicking their teeth and looking away from me like oh poor thing... they're so far gone they can't even accept they need help

like maybe i'm not being clear so i'll say it again: i do not need therapy. early 20s wendy with severe personality disorders that were wreaking fucking havoc on their underdeveloped frontal lobe needed therapy. 15 year old PTSD-laden cannot log onto a single social media site without being sent harassment and shock photos wendy needed therapy. violently suicidal 10 shots of vodka a night wendy needed therapy. current wendy does not need therapy.

this does not mean that a person needs to reach a certain threshold of pain or stress to need a therapist. that is not what i am trying to say. but the ideal endgoal for a therapist is for them to some day never see their clients again. the point of a therapist is to help you gain control of your own life, and develop the proper neural pathways and coping mechanisms to do so. i do not need help with this: i have perfected it like any other art. i am amazing at doing that on my own, so much so that i have legitimately had actual licensed professionals in shock that those are skills i developed just fucking around in my early 20s trying not to die.

according to my ex, a psychology major, i perfected CBT without any coaching or instruction. i literally did it intuitively. she said to me, you realize people pay thousands of dollars to be coached on that?

when i am in crisis, it is very easy (practice) for me to find my emotional center, calm down, and get to work problem solving. whether that problem be something tangible (something went wrong at work, home, etc) or more abstract (i think my loved one hates me because i have BPD) i can easily get into 'lets fix it!' mode and follow through. people who follow me on tumblr do not see 99.9% of the issues i am having because they crop up, i feel the feelings, and then i send them on their way.

but sometimes you cannot do that on your own. human beings were literally, scientifically, logistically NOT MEANT TO SURVIVE IN ISOLATION. it is NOT POSSIBLE for a person to live a healthy, happy life without social bonds. i don't understand why i have to explain this to people. sometimes i feel like i am from mars. we are meant to be with each other! we are meant to support one another and share our woes! that is the CRUX of humanity!

so, for 99.9% of my problems, of my agonies, i not only succeed but i excel at turning them into meaningless blips on the radar of my life. there is a remaining .1%, though, where the solution is simply that i want to go to a friend, cry for a little bit, receive a hug and/or some validation, and then move on with my life like it never happened.

THAT? THAT APPARENTLY WARRANTS ME NEEDING THERAPY? THAT LITTLE, TINY, MEANINGLESS .1% THAT SOMETIMES FUCKS ME?

i'm just so sick of this. i am not a person who would have ANYTHING to talk about at therapy. stressors in my life are minimal. hobbies, creative projects, work, home life, all of these things have been lovely and heart-dappled and pink since i was reborn seven years ago. and every miserable lapse i do have is short-lived and met with courage and the knowledge that i can survive it, that i can survive anything.

but occasionally, i am sad that i do not have friends who i can realtalk with. friends who will bring their woes to me. friends who i can in turn bring my own woes to. occasionally, i am sad because i WATCHED the decline of deep social bonding. i watched terms like emotional labour and traumadumping go mainstream. i watched my friend circle become less and less comfortable with heavy topics. mere YEARS ago i could sit in a discord call with friends and talk extensively about all the highs and lows of my life and listen to them do the same. if i try that tomorrow, i will get the worst awkward silences i have ever heard in my life. heavy, palpable, heart-shattering awkward silences that scream oh, you weren't supposed to say that. you're only liked when you're perfectly happy, we don't want to hear about when you're sad.

this happened in my lifetime. i am grieving. and if i go to a therapist, all i am going to do is say, every week, "i can't think of anything much to discuss." and then maybe every 6th or 7th week i'll say "the continuing insistence that humans are not meant to help and love one another is making me feel emotionally isolated and terrified that i will never meet someone who wants that from me again."

and my therapist will say "yeah, that makes sense. i've seen a good deal of that too, it's really concerning."

and then we will nod. and i will leave.

it's cool that the 'go to therapy' people didn't make you want to scream and cry and yell "YOU'RE MISSING THE POINT" but you're right, you are not me. my life was already bearable, sometimes i just get sad about ONE THING. the one thing is that i don't have friends i can be 100% myself around, no matter how i try. no matter what i do.

we are not the same. you went to your friends, said, "hey, i just feel like you only like me when i'm palatable. i really wish i could rely on you from time to time for a listening ear. is there a reason i can't?"

your friends said "that's emotional labour and traumadumping. you need to tell that to a therapist, not me."

you said, "oh. okay."

i went to my friends, said, "hey, i just feel like you only like me when i'm palatable. i really wish i could rely on you from time to time for a listening ear. is there a reason i can't?"

my friends said "that's emotional labour and traumadumping. you need to tell that to a therapist, not me."

and i said "you are a really shitty fucking friend."

happy that's working out for you, dude. you didn't need to send this ask, and i'd prefer you never send another one again.

#wendy answers #Anonymous #wendy rants #i am so sick of this fucking shit #you are a part of the problem btw.

[officialtokyosan]

hey… tell me your armored core 6 headcanons...

god i have an amount. im not sure how to sort this

Here are the general ones:

Ninety years before the start of Armored Core 6, childhood as a concept has been completely dismantled. Corporations have enough power to lobby the end of public education as a whole and all education is privatized. Children will work once able in the era of the Fifth Industrial Revolution. The M2M Era (Man-to-Machine).

Due to advancements in medical research and technology (for military purposes), every disability, disorder, and impairment is accommodated for the purpose of fulfilling the interests of the company. Depending on how valuable someone is, anyone can basically get any medical procedure they want. It's commonplace for employees of certain companies have some kind of medical procedure done. Employment ensures any and all healthcare. You have nothing if you not employee, there is no safety net or social program of any kind provided by what is essentially the government.

Preserving reproductive material is much more commonplace, it's actually expectation. Natural pregnancies are looked down upon since birth and recovery takes employees time away from work. Designer babies are common including eugenicist mindsets that follow. There's a weird initial treatment toward those who are naturally born leaving genetic risks to chance. Birth statuses are required on resumes.

AC cockpits have one-size-fits-all compatibitiy for all augments, manual controls, and any customization.

All augments are a variation of brain implants and synthetic hormones. Implants in the inner ear for balance, parietal lobe for sensation, and cerebellum for movement. Hormones to maintain wakefulness and awareness, regulate body functions. Hormones that relate to body regulation also modifies stem cell growth (this inadvertently affects aging as these hormones preserve the telomeres as cells divide.) are secreted into the brain, liver, and femur.

Older generations were extremely invasive because the implants required removing some brain tissue and there were complications such as bleeding, infection, or the breaking down of the actual implant injuring the brain. The implants were also susceptible to electric shock since they'd require a direct external connection. There was also no way to regulate their tempuratures.

Newer (10th) generation of augments are less invasive by no longer requiring to remove brain matter and directly stimulates the brain but can cause overstimulation and oversensitivity, making the user more prone to stress. External connections are magnetic. Hormone secretion implants include secreting coolant when the body exceeds a certain temperature or bpm reaches a certain rate, thresholds which can be fine tuned by the user. They are usually implanted in the heart and lungs.

Other augments include artificial muscles since some AC parts don't have avionic-like controls. Artifical muscles require company secret titanium alloy to replace some of the bones the they attach to.

Since the societal memory of "childhood" is nonexistent, the concept of family is too. Foremost, people are a company asset, desinger babies are conceived because of the influence of the company, they are born comfortably because of the accommodation of the company. People are born as employees indebted to the companies that brought them life.

Parents function much like backers or sponsors to pull their offspring out of general youth company training for more specialized education, for reasons such as to inherit their position. Every five years, starting from age 5 until age 20, children trainees are tested and the results will be evaluated by their parents that decide their worth to invest in them as an asset. When trainees are of age they are allowed to look up, through the company's in-house genetic database, who their parents are. If the names are not available, it means they were disowned. Trainees who never recieve an investment will become a grunt.

RLF culture is a long altered ghost of a corporate culture from a company that no longer exists. "Father" and "uncle" are intimate military titles that have lost their original meaning.

RFL care about children more thanks to the fact that the technology to incubate fetuses became derelict, natural birth has made a boom.

I don't have all of them yet but every named character in ACVI has a disability, disorder, and/or an impairment of some kind that's been accommodated for or inflicted on. No one is normal in this game. Not a single person.

Older generation augmented humans that manage to grow out hair consider it a personal victory, perserving a sliver of individuality.

Okay i think that covers it. I have headcanons for characters that'd make the average gamer hurl

Snail is 90 years old kept young due to his augments. As you know, my dear friend, he has had one billion plastic surgeries. He's changed his gender 17 times. He has race swapped so much that the company told him to stop. He's had honkers, he's had cock, pussy, you name it and he's vain about it. I like to think this happened because his face was split in half during combat may years ago. He doesn't like Pater, he smells Pater's avarice from a mile away; recognition of self. He doesn't like anyone. Snail is a freak He's a sadomaso. He loves natural, unaugmented cock. Like everyone who's been a corporate slave who does actually all the work their whole life, he's fucked in the head. He likes to do fucked up things to those in re-education. Sorry, 621 and Walter. If he really doesn't like them for real he just takes the frontal lobe. Sorry, Swinburne. He hates old people, he hates mental illness, he hates animals.

Freud is in his 30s and he is actually naturally born. Someone like the top Vesper being naturally born can sway public opinion. He delegates authority to Snail for canon reasons but he does it to bully him for being so annoying and controlling. Like Snail, he also has authority to send people to re-education and also oversee it himself if he ever cared to. Freud is a man who gives no shits about anything that isn't about his AC and combat. He likes to look at stats and parts and planning budgets for them, and sorting them onto tierlists. He's also got a great cock. He has an assortment of children invested by the company (nicknamed as Freudlings) due to his impressive genetics. He doesn't really care about them other than their combat ability and only likes to spar or talk combat with them every once in a while. They admire him ferociously as the top Vesper and some want to surpass him.

Pater has spedrun life. He has the knack of figuring out the corporate game and exploits and appeals to climb the ladder. There was a certain psychological evaluation required for tenth generation augmentation, he passed with flying colors. He moseys up to anyone who may help him even if he has to subtely play the role of whatever appeals to them the most. His emotional state is determined by the amount of stress he endures from overstimulation. Pater is a twin! His twin was nonviable and is just kept in a tube somewhere in case he needs its cells or something.

O'Keeffe is initially deaf in one ear from a self inflicted wound. The tinnitus from his Second Generation augments were too much some times.

Rusty is far-sighted. He's 28 years old.

HONEST BRUTE! A headcanon of yours is a headcanon of mine. He's a coral head who's a pervert freak on every level and lives like shit. His clothes are stained, there's fruitflies swarming the trashcan near his bed, there are bedbugs in his dirty mattress on the floor next to his used needles and bent spoons. The euphoria of coral drugs for him is that it vibrates his augments in a way that stimulates pleasure center in the brain. His olfactory nerves were damaged from snorting the stuff so he's anosmic. And one of the only scents he can smell is ammonia. Do what you wish with that information. He does injections now. He gets bloody noses and has coral breath and is greasy. Despite this, he's extremely charming snd persuasive. He was Carla's kitten. He got close to Carla by lying to others effectively sabotaging them and taking their place, completely impulsively. Like, he stole the Overed Rail Canon literally just because. He's got insane good memory too, it really helps him sell the lie. He once got caught fucking Chatty by Carla. You know that guy who got caught fucking the washing machine? He's a very good lover. Are you really having a good time if you both aren't also high on coral? He smells so bad that it when it gets on you, other people would know you spent time with him. The smegma in his chastity cage-marked foreskin has crystalized. God i need to fuck this guy

Sulla hates Walter for making him eat the doodoo and will kill or fuck his dogs to spite him. And wants to be a dog owner himself but better and cuts someone else's french toast for them.

My 621 has leg nerve damage, muscle atrophy, selective mutism, and prone to hypothermia and is also so hot and sexy and fuckable, everybody wants it. 621's muscles are to weak to cut its own french toast so Walter cuts them for it and he does it so badly it's horrible! 621 sides with anyone that has its wheelchair. 621 didnt have time for for any physical recovery arriving on Rubicon so its AC is controlled mostly through extremly invasive augments in the brain and has been tuned to respond to fine finger movements. If anyone would care to help 621 through physical therapy and see its hair grow in patches it would be so sexy. So much tension.

Walter and Michigan definitely fucked before the start of the game.

uuuuu thats all i can spit out for now maybe I'll add more

#answered assk #saeriibon #enamored cord #headcanon time #long post #armcore posting

[tawakkull]

ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 197

Dervish

Dervish is a word that means poor, destitute one. Even though it is used for the poor and helpless in worldly terms, in Sufi terminology it is used for those who are aware of their poverty and helplessness before God. Although poverty and helplessness in worldly terms are associated with beggary, travelers to God are not poor and helpless in that they do not ask anyone for anything. Heroes of truth, who have dedicated themselves to God, are content with what He has given them and are indifferent to all other things. Even in hunger and thirst they unburden themselves to God, without revealing their need to others. A dervish is also regarded as being the threshold to a door. This does not mean that dervishes humiliate themselves before people; rather, it means that they are humble and in their awareness of their nothingness before God attribute to Him whatever they may possess that is worthy of appreciation. They are also humble among people because of the Creator and always aware that they are a precious work of God’s art with all the Divine gems inherent in their nature.

Sometimes perfect people are mentioned as being the dervishes of a certain guide. This is because it is important to stress the place of a dervish, both in the sight of God and of people. Besides, sometimes simple, humble, content, and lenient people are called dervishes, while there are some great, sagacious persons with a deep knowledge of God who are known as “a poor one with the heart of sultan,” in that they are magnanimous even though poor.

The leading scholars of Sufism describe a true dervish as one who is abstinent, pious, righteous, patient, loving, tolerant, and steadfast, severing relations with all else save God from the heart, and devoted to His service with the intention and effort of reaching Him.

A dervish takes his or her first step by holding back from sins and by fulfilling obligatory and supererogatory religious duties. The second step is to be loving and tolerant toward everyone, to see the universe as a cradle of brotherhood/sisterhood, and to try to represent the nature and morals of Muhammad, and the truth of his being Ahmad, upon him be peace and blessings. The third step is to reach the horizon of sincerity and perfect goodness and to develop the theoretical knowledge and belief based on imitation into experience and verified truths.

At the first stage, dervishes are at the beginning of piety, and demonstrate that they are ready to understand the Qur’an and to start the journey to meet with the Almighty. They are awarded in proportion to their sincerity and purity of intention and advance toward piety and the summits of being pleased with God and finally into the Gardens of Paradise.

God Almighty says: The great among you are those who are pious. The last abode of the pious will be Paradise and their drink will be kawthar.[1]

In the second stage, they build relations with all existence, living or non-living, (without, however, assigning their heart to any other than the Almighty) and appreciate each according to its position. They love and embrace everything, repel hostilities with love, and evil with good. Thinking that the road that they are to follow is the road of not showing resentment, but rather that of patience and tolerance, they run toward the rank of being pleased with God, and whisper like Yunus:

You should be voiceless to one who curses, and handless to one who beats; A dervish should have no heart to resent, so you cannot be a dervish.

In the third stage, dervishes are persons of peace and spiritual vision, having entered the way of seeing, feeling, and knowing only Him, and being faithful friends of Him. It makes no difference to them whether good comes from friends or evil from enemies. This is even more so if they have heard the voice of the Friend, then they will no longer feel breaths other than His, and will be freed from interest in and worries about any other than Him, acquiring a second nature that is determined by “secret.” They know what they really should know and are freed from bearing a burden of unnecessary information.

Everyone can enter the way of being a dervish. No one who has taken a step on this way is denied. However, entering such a way has some requirements which one who is ready to take the first step on this way is expected to fulfill. Tokadizade Sekip[2] states that the door to being a dervish is open for everybody, but warns that this is the way of offering the soul to the Beloved and therefore requires sincerity and perfect goodness:

The door to the Truth is open to a wakeful person, But those who know how to sacrifice their souls can reach God. I have seen many who have come to this dervish convent, Willing and ready to sacrifice themselves on the way of truth.

The Prophet Abraham is an excellent example to remind one that reaching God is possible by sacrificing one’s soul in His way. He breasted the fire of Nimrod[3] in this way and, leaving his home and native land, set up his home in the desert. In utter submission to God, he took his wife and son and left them in a desolate valley. He offered the “fruit of his heart”-his son who had been bestowed on him in return for many years of desiring a son-to the Truth, as a sacrifice.[4] In short, he showed such resolution, power of will, and determination at every step, that except for the pride of humankind, he has no equal in human history. It is as if Sayyid Nigari[5] uttered the following couplet about him:

Does one who seeks the Beloved struggle for his own life? And can another who seeks his own life be in quest of the Beloved?

So, being a dervish means aspiring to be a hero of meeting with the Beloved, which signifies devoting one’s life to acquiring God’s good pleasure and approval in the consciousness of the meaning and purpose of the religious commandments. It has also been described as being in quest of the Truth under the guidance of love and zeal and by dominating one’s voice, heart, and carnal soul. This description is also significant. Riza Tevfik, a late Turkish poet and philosopher, presenting the characteristics of being a dervish, enlightens this point as follows:

Being a dervish means dominating one’s essence; One who is a captive of his ego is not a dervish. It is adopting love as a guide and finding God; It is not sweets, an axe, a staff, a needle or a skewer.

Do not sit absentminded in the name of devotion; Do not shout, nor dance violently, nor beat your breast! Nor foam by crying “O He, O All-Living!” Mentioning God is not a part of digestion.

Learn the secret about God from your heart; It is the heart which sees the Beloved through love. What causes a wakeful one with knowledge of God to feel that pleasure, Is not henbane, nor wine, nor opium, nor anything else.

Do not expect wonder from the stone of Najaf,[6] Nor separate from human beings, your brethren. You cannot see the Truth from graves or tombs; A true man of God is a sultan, not a hermit.

Everywhere are heaps of crude souls, What is your relation with them? Take refuge in your heart that tends to seclusion! The world is not as spacious as the heart.

In the beginning, a dervish is a student who studies theoretical knowledge; his or her practicing what is learned is representation; then, feeling and experiencing more deeply what is known and practiced-by each according to his or her capacity-is certainty. The first stage can also be regarded as theoretical Shari’a, the second as practical Shari’a, and the third as Shari’a experienced in truth. A traveler is a dervish during the whole of the journeying, through all of its stations, from the beginning to the end.

Some exacting scholars of Sufism regard being a dervish as an essential condition on the way to meet with God. According to them, being a dervish has the same meaning and importance for the cleansing of the carnal self, the refinement of heart, and the purification of spirit and its acquiring transcendence as treatment, diet and abstention from harmful habits, food and drink do for health. As a doctor’s advice is essential for the cure of diseases, spiritual diseases also require the advice and direction of a spiritual guide. The character of an individual is important in the diagnosis and treatment of bodily diseases, which is why modern medicine advises that every patient requires individual attention. This is also true for spiritual diseases and treatment. Each disease may require a treatment which is different, at least, in its details.

For example, for an initiate who cannot be saved from the pressure of corporeality or bodily desires, or reach the level of life lived in the heart and the spirit, austerity is essential. A guide who knows the person and can diagnose his or her disease well, will advise renunciation of the world and whatever in it relates to the pleasures of the worldly life. If the initiate has fully concentrated on the pleasures of the other world without considering the Truly Desired and Eternally-Besought One, the guide will urge renunciation of the other world with its pleasures and concentration on the Truth. If, on the other hand, neither the world nor the hereafter can keep an initiate from the main goal of the journeying, if both serve to improve concentration on eternity, the guide will open the doors on the world and the hereafter wide for the initiate. Concerning this, Jalal al-Din al-Rumi says:

The world means heedlessness of God; it does not mean possessing silver coins, clothes, or a family. Our Prophet praised wealth earned in lawful ways and used for the revival and uplifting of Islam, and said: “How good is any wealth earned in lawful ways for a righteous one!” If enough water finds its way into a ship, it causes it to sink, but if it is under the ship, it causes it to float. If you do not put the love of wealth in your heart, then you can swim safely in the ocean of spiritual journeying and initiation. True dervishes, from the time of Adam until today, have thought and acted in such a way. Even though they were not called dervishes, we can regard the People of the Suffa-the poor Companions who stayed in the antechamber adjacent to the Prophet’s Mosque in Madina-as the first dervishes of the Muslim Umma. They observed both the balance between the world and the hereafter and the Divine rights to a degree that no one else has been able to, and they became heroes of resignation (to God’s will).

After the Companions, all the people of journeying and initiation who have journeyed on the way to God under different titles, such as asceticism or Sufism or being a dervish, have performed great tasks, as if they were the soul and blood in the veins of the society, so long as they have had no interest in politics and concentrated all their efforts for belief in God’s Unity and maintaining the Islamic life in this belief. When they have acted to the contrary, they have both harmed society and ruined themselves.

Using being a dervish, which, in fact, is a state based on humility and a feeling of nothingness, for worldly benefits is such a means of contamination of the spirit that nothing other than a special Divine grace can clean it.

Let Mawlana Jalal al-Din al-Rumi have the last word:

A luxurious life is a shame on dervishes; a burden in their hearts. How nice is feeling destitute before Him; And being in need of Him on His way. For pomp and luxury on the way to the Beloved Are like thorns; they hurt the feet of dervishes.

O God! Make full of blessings my religious life, which is the guarantee of my innocence, and my other life, to which I am bound to go, and my world, in which I can be perfected.

And bestow Your blessings and peace on our master Muhammad, and on his family and the Companions altogether.

[1] Kawthar is the name of a river in Paradise.  [2] Tokadizade Sekip was one of the Turkish poets and writers who lived in Izmir in the first half of the 20th century. He wrote in favor of freedom during the reign of the Ottoman Sultan Abdulhamid II, and was one of the founders of the Association of Defending the Basic Rights in Izmir.  [3] Nimrod was the that was given to the Chaldaean kings in Iraq.  [4] Prophet Abraham, upon God’s command, left his elder son Ishmael in the valley of Makkah together with her mother Hagar.  [5] Seyyid Mir Hamza Nigari was a Sufi poet from Azerbaijan. He wrote lyrical poems to express God’s love.  [6] Najaf is a city in the southern Iraq, which bears holiness for the Shi’te Muslims. 

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #convert #convert islam #revert islam #revert help #revert help team #help #'reverthelp #convert help #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

[puppyexpressions]

How To Stop Overstimulated Dog Biting

Does your dog get easily overstimulated? Does he tend to bite when this happens?

If this is something you’re struggling with, there are ways to prevent your dog from biting when overstimulated.

Here’s everything you need to know on the topic.

Why do dogs bite when overstimulated?

Overstimulation is a problem for many dogs. Unfortunately, dogs tend to lose control of themselves when they get too stimulated. This can result in unwanted and even dangerous behavior.

If your dog starts biting when he gets overstimulated, this can be frustrating to deal with. It might also make you nervous to take your dog to places, or even just to be around him!

If you are dealing with a dog that bites when overstimulated, there are ways to help him. First, though, it’s important to understand what overstimulation is in the first place.

What is overstimulation?

Knowing what exactly overstimulation is can help you make sure that your dog does not reach this point.

Basically, being overstimulated means that so much going on around your dog that his senses overload. Dogs then tend to lose control and start doing things that they know they’re not supposed to. Biting is one example. To stop it, you need to keep your dogs’ arousal under a threshold. Overstimulation tends to be very common in puppies, but it can happen in adult dogs too. 

How do you know if your dog is overstimulated?

When dogs get overstimulated, they tend to show certain signs and symptoms. Unfortunately, many of these signs are the same they’ll show for other issues.

Boredom, for instance, can also result in bad behavior like biting. Your dog might get mouthy because he’s trying to tell you that he wants attention and something to do.

Dogs may also show the same signs if they are getting overtired. It’s important to make sure that your dog is getting enough sleep during the day. Most adult dogs sleep around 10 to 14 hours a day. Puppies sleep even more.

So how can you tell if the problem with your dog is overstimulation or something else? The best way is to look at the context.

Is there a lot going on around your dog? Or have you been more active with him than usual? Then the issue is probably overstimulation or being overtired.

If you’ve been doing less with your dog than normal, then your dog is probably just bored!

Causes

There are lots of things that can trigger overstimulation in dogs.

Some dogs generally tend towards higher arousal than others. That means that it’s easier for their brains to become overwhelmed with everything going on around them.

This can lead to overstimulation—which then leads to your dog biting even when he knows he shouldn’t.

Unfortunately, this is a very common issue with rescue dogs.

Adopting a dog from a shelter or a rescue is a great way to make a difference in a dog’s life. But many of these dogs come from difficult backgrounds.

They may have more trouble with some aspects of life than a dog that came from a reputable breeder. Some of these dogs might be more prone to overstimulation.

With rescue dogs, you might just need to practice a little more patience and understanding. They might require a little extra work, but saving a rescue dog is incredibly rewarding!

Do dogs bite when overstimulated?

Not all dogs will bite when they get overstimulated. But this is a common issue for many dogs and owners who struggle with overstimulation.

Dogs who are in a state of overstimulation don’t know how to control themselves anymore. It’s not that they’re refusing to listen to commands on purpose. The problem is that there’s so much going on that they lose the ability to make their own choices.

That means that some dogs will start biting even though they know they’re not supposed to.

Your dog will likely show other symptoms too. He might start running around or barking or crying incessantly.

Is my dog overly excited or aggressive?

It’s never fun dealing with a dog that won’t stop trying to bite you.

But it can be stressful if you think your dog might have some aggression problems.

Biting is a normal part of being a dog, and many dogs bite gently as part of playtime. As your dog’s human, you need to teach him that humans don’t have fur to protect skin like dogs do. You need to show him better ways to play with people!

But if your dog shows other signs like growling, baring his teeth, or lunging at you to attack, those are signs of aggression.

How to stop overstimulated dog biting

We’ve covered the basics of why your dog is biting when he gets overstimulated. But what can you do to get him to stop?

Check out these pointers!

1. Stop the fun immediately

Playing with your dog is a great way to spend time with him. Unfortunately, his playtime could be exactly what’s overstimulating him.

So what can you do? The first thing that needs to happen is that the fun needs to stop.

If you keep playing, you’re only going to get your dog even more excited. You may also end up unintentionally rewarding the behavior since you’re still giving your dog what he wants.

As soon as your dog gets so overstimulated he starts biting, it’s time to stop playing. Hold completely still until he’s calmed down. You might even have to leave the room if he’s still trying to get you to play with him.

Only start having fun again once your dog has settled down.

2. Keep calm

Dogs are highly intuitive animals, which means that they can pick up on others’ emotions—and yours!

You might not even realize it, but your dog probably mirrors a lot of your feelings! That means that when you start acting too excited, that’s going to hype your dog up too.

On the other hand, acting calmly will also help your dog stay calm.

That’s why it’s so important to model calm behavior for your dog. Your dog will see the way you are acting, and he’ll start to understand that he should act the same way.

By acting calm, you’ll also avoid accidentally stimulating your dog even more.

3. Observe

Paying attention to what exactly gets your dog overstimulated is one of the best ways to help him.

If you don’t know what specifically is getting your dog so excited, it’s going to be hard to prevent it from happening.

Make sure that you are paying attention to what is triggering these feelings in your dog. Once you know, you’ll be able to avoid them if you can. You can then reintroduce the stimuli to your dog in a more controlled way to help desensitize him.

4. Tire him out

Some dogs get overstimulated more easily because they have too much pent-up energy.

You should make sure that your dog is getting a healthy amount of exercise every day. Just remember that too much activity could also trigger overstimulated dog biting.

Pay close attention to your dog and the exercise you’re giving him to make sure that it’s not too much or too little.

5. Reward good behavior

When you’re working on behavioral issues like this, using positive reinforcement dog training is the most effective thing to do.

This means that you’ll ignore behavior that you don’t want to continue. It also means that you’ll reward behavior that you do like, and so reinforce it.

When your dog makes good choices like not biting during playtime, reward him. You can give him a treat, or simply continue playing.

Rewarding generally calm behavior will also help. When your dog is relaxing, give him a reward to get him to keep that behavior up.

#dog biting #dog behavior #dog training #dog agrression

[mariacallous]

In the midst of an unseasonal California heat wave last late spring, Nathaniel DeNicola, an obstetrician-gynecologist at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, had an unusual case on his hands: A patient who had been carrying a perfectly healthy pregnancy for 32 weeks was going into early labor. It didn’t make sense; nevertheless, the baby was coming. The patient’s waters had broken, the baby’s heartbeat was dropping fast, and the child was in the breech position. The mother had an emergency C-section. After spending a couple of weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit, the baby was allowed to go home.

After the scramble to deliver the baby, DeNicola searched for reasons that might explain the premature arrival. Sometimes there are obvious causes for the early rupturing of membranes, like a chlamydia infection or a condition called cervical insufficiency, in which the cervix starts to dilate on its own. But those explanations didn’t fit DeNicola’s patient. Struggling, he settled on a different explanation: the searing heat. “I can’t prove that that was because of extreme heat; it’s very tough to assign that,” he says. But from his research, he knew that heat can trigger preterm births. And in his 12 years as a clinician, he has often seen more obstetric emergency visits during heatwaves.

Doctors have known for some time that certain groups of people, like the elderly and children, are particularly vulnerable to heatwaves. But in recent years, a new population has come into focus: pregnant people and their unborn babies. As the world warms up, there is a growing corpus of evidence that the heat is interfering with pregnancy, perturbing the delicate fetus in the womb, with the potential for serious complications.

And it’s plenty hot now. July 3 was the hottest day ever recorded globally. July was declared the hottest month on record. California’s Death Valley recently reached 128 degrees Fahrenheit—just two degrees short of a record for the entire planet. In Phoenix, Arizona, the daytime temperature hasn’t dipped below 110 degrees Fahrenheit in almost a month. In parts of the world, such as Iran, the heat index is teetering toward the threshold of what the human body can tolerate. Swathes of Europe are on fire.

Understanding the effect of extreme heat on pregnancies will require a major shift. Due to ethical concerns, pregnant people have typically been excluded from studies of the effects of heat on physiology. (A recent paper drily pointed out that far more research has been done on the effects of heat stress on livestock “due to its economic importance.”) It means that much of what we know comes from animal studies.

So far, there are many theories, but not many firm conclusions. Animal studies have shown that heat can provoke an increase in the secretion of oxytocin, a key hormone involved in labor, which may also explain the phenomenon in humans. It could be that extreme heat triggers the premature rupture of membranes, leading to a too-early birth. Or it could be that heat strain causes the release of inflammatory proteins, prompting preterm labor. Maybe it’s dehydration caused by the heat, causing the release of prostaglandins, lipids that will trigger contractions, and these contractions can be so intense that the body goes into early labor.

In pregnant people, we know that the body alters the way it regulates its temperature to accommodate for increased body size and the metabolic toil required to grow a baby. This, in turn, limits the body’s capacity to dissipate heat. So when it’s super hot, a pregnant person is perhaps less equipped to deal with the heat. Another theory is that when a pregnant person is experiencing heat stress, the body releases heat-shock proteins, which could trigger physiological reactions that are harmful to the baby and its bearer.

A few papers have tried to pinpoint how heat affects the development of human babies, notably a 2022 study that followed 92 pregnant farmers working in The Gambia in West Africa. Led by Ana Bonell, a research fellow at the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine, the team wanted to figure out how doing agricultural labor out in the heat was affecting their pregnancies. Bonell knew that heat stress can trigger the release of cortisol, which could hinder blood flow to the placenta. So her team decided to measure stress, both on the mother and the fetus. Alarmingly, they saw that for every 1 degree Celsius increase, there was a 17 percent increase in fetal stress—defined as abnormally high heart rate or slower blood flow through the umbilical cord. Overall, they concluded that heat strain on the mother translated into strain on the fetus.

Bonell felt it was important to be doing the research in a region likely to face some of the worst tolls of a heating world, where the typical escapes—say, retreating to an air-conditioned building—aren’t available to all. “There’s a massive inequality and climate justice agenda that goes with any research around climate change,” she says. “West Africa is one of the most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change. It just felt right, really.”

Strain on the fetus can have serious consequences. Multiple studies have found that even small increases in ambient temperature can increase the risk of preterm birth: A study from California found that for every 5.6 degrees Celsius increase in ambient temperature exposure, the risk of a preterm birth increased by 8.6 percent. Another analysis also found that the risk of preterm birth increased as temperatures went up.

Several studies have also found significant links between heat exposure and low birth weight. A 2022 study conducted in Massachusetts found that higher ambient temperature resulted in smaller babies. One reason why, the paper proposes, is that perhaps the induced heat-shock proteins mess up normal protein synthesis, which may wreak havoc with the development of the fetus’s organs.

For some babies, the heat can prove fatal. Another recent analysis led by Bonell reviewed the link between heat exposure and stillbirths: One study from Western Australia found that the risk of stillbirth increased by 41 percent if the mother was exposed to moderate heat stress—around 32 degrees Celsius—in the last two weeks of pregnancy.

And hot weather may affect a baby’s development in other ways: A 2021 analysis found a higher incidence of anomalies, such as cardiac defects, spina bifida, or cleft lip, at higher temperatures. A 2019 study took existing research that linked heat exposure to congenital heart defects and extrapolated how many such cases we can expect in the coming years: The authors estimated that over an 11-year period, an additional 7,000 babies will be born with congenital heart defects in the eight US states they studied. According to Bonell, there’s also early evidence from animals that heat stress may be triggering epigenetic changes linked to long-term adult chronic diseases such as heart disease and diabetes.

And in the United States, any potential harm to a fetus brings with it other concerns. Pregnant people, more than ever in a post-Roe world, are at risk of criminalization for behavior that may harm the fetus, particularly in states that recognize fetal personhood, which grants legal rights to a fetus from conception. “You might live in a state that criminalizes your adverse birth outcome because you took a walk when it was hot, or you were working outdoors when the temperatures were too high,” says Adelle Dora Monteblanco, an assistant professor of public health at Pacific University in Oregon.

As the research linking extreme heat to pregnancy complications piles up, public health bodies, including the World Health Organization and UNICEF, have started to take notice and include pregnant people and their unborn babies in warnings during extreme heat—although some, like the United Kingdom, are still leaving pregnant people out. While including pregnant people in public health messaging is important, doctors also need to do more to keep patients fully informed on how to stay safe. “We know enough to act,” says DeNicola. “While we don’t have perfect solutions, we do have counseling we can give.” He knows to tell his patients to drink more water, and try to access any kind of cooling, if they have the means. If air-conditioning isn’t an option at home, people should look for cooling centers, or shopping malls, movie theaters, or libraries.

Research has shown that more targeted advice is still a necessity. A 2022 paper concluded that current guidance for pregnant people with regard to heat exposure is “sparse, inconsistent, and not evidence based.” Big questions remain, like at what stage in the pregnancy is the mother and fetus most at risk, or at what temperature conditions shift from risky to dangerous.

Yet there are limits to simply giving out advice. As the world heats up, pregnant people and their babies will continue to be vulnerable to these risks—particularly people from low-income households and people of color. Bonell points out that what people really need is practical help or the tools to help themselves. “You need some other solutions that aren’t just about education,” she says.

[outoutdamnspark]

Omegaverse Pt. 2: Heat/Rut Cycles (SFW)

Second installment of my a/b/o headcanon series, for @smallestapplin​~

<- Part 1: Biology (sfw)

(cw: none. purposefully made to not be gross. under cut for length.)

Ω Presenting usually happens anywhere between 13-16. An omega's first heat and an alpha's first rut are considered one of, if not the roughest they'll ever go through. It's puberty cranked up to 11 and, in a sense, all at once - which means their body is now rapidly trying to readjust itself and it's Not a Good Time™️. Betas usually get the (slightly) better end of the deal, since they only go through about a week's worth of what feels like the worst case of allergies they've ever had... with the added bonus of being able to smell everything. After that, however, they're pretty much home free. 

Ω Heat and rut cycles are biyearly, meaning a person will typically have one heat or rut every six months, two total in a year. Less isn’t entirely unheard of, though not all that common if someone isn’t taking suppressants. More is... well, it’s not immediately concerning, but speaking to a doctor is still advised, just to make sure everything’s alright.

Ω For the first few years after presenting, up until roughly the age of 20 or so, an alpha/omega's body will still be going through a bit of a transitional period - thus their cycles are completely separate from any sort of typical puberty hormones. At this stage, heats are mostly just like a bad fever, skin sensitivity, and heightened senses to the point of being almost unbearable. Ruts, on the other hand, are more akin to a bad ADHD episode, with loss of focus, directionless overabundance of energy, and a weird mix of both under and overstimulation. The instinct to find a heat/rut partner is completely absent until physical adulthood to allow the body ample time to acclimate. It is not uncommon for individuals to experience a physical revulsion to the idea of a heat/rut partner until that threshold of adulthood is reached; this is the body’s natural defense against unwanted attention.

Ω (I.e. No. Underage. Anything!)

Ω Nestmates, and heat/rut partners are not the same thing. Heat/rut partners are pretty self-explanitory, but nestmates are nonsexual partners (oftentimes family, close friends, or other packmates) that act as a companion during a heat or a rut. Sometimes, especially in the case of siblings or parents with very young children, nestmates will share a communal nest for most of the year up to a certain age, with a secondary nest being made specifically for heats and ruts. This promotes pack bonds and later allows newly-presented adolescents to practice building their own nests as needed.

Ω For heats, a nestmate will usually act as a cuddle-buddy and will generally offer support and comfort throughout the worst of the heat. For ruts, the role is very similar but can also include play-wrestling to help expend the alpha's excess energy. (Packmates unconsciously recognize the pheromone signature beneath the scent of heat/rut, and so the only instincts triggered are platonic, typically focused on protection.)

Ω For an adolescent omega in heat, let them build a nest in a nice dimly-lit, climate controlled room, with plenty of comfort snacks and their favorite soft things to snuggle with - preferably scented by someone they're close to, like a parent or other packmate. This will help them to feel secure whenever they have to be left alone for whatever reason. (Sometimes having another person nearby is too much for their senses to comfortably handle, and sometimes it's just not feasible to have someone there with them all the time.) It's also best to check in on them at least once a day to make sure they're alright. For an adolescent alpha in rut, the setup is mostly the same, though some form of external stimuli is highly recommended. Stress balls, stim toys, chewy foods like jerky, or anything tactile. (Things like handheld videogames can be used, but there's always a chance something might get handled too roughly, so proceed with caution.)

Ω Heat/rut drunk is a thing, but not quite what everyone assumes it is. The "drunk" state typically only happens either with a trusted heat/rut partner, and/or in an environment where the individual feels completely safe and secure - for example, a well-stocked, well-scented, nest in a locked apartment. Neither an omega nor an alpha are ever truly unaware of their surroundings - especially if they're spending their cycle alone. At no point will they be so far gone that they won't negatively react to any unwanted attention, such as an intruder in their nest or an unapproved would-be partner. (It’s all consensual here, folks!) In the event of such, preservation and/or territorial instincts will kick in, effectively overriding the heat/rut to make sure the alpha or omega is clear-minded enough to react accordingly. This can lead to what is known as a Botching.

Ω Botched heats and ruts are, sadly, exactly what it says on the tin: a heat or a rut that has been either interrupted due to unsafe conditions, or was doomed from the start by virtue of being stress-induced. Either way, it's a case of the person's body and instincts (and sometimes the environment itself) actively warring with each other. (Think of it like how your body produces adrenaline to cover up pain in order to get you out of danger; the pain and injury still exist, and you'll be even worse for wear once the adrenaline wears off, but until then you at least have a chance to get out of the situation.)

Ω While going through any sort of botching is utterly terrible, it can be argued that botched heats are the worse of the two experiences; an omega in heat is in a very vulnerable state, whereas an alpha in rut is already loaded with excess energy and stands a better chance of bouncing back more quickly.

Ω In a normal heat, an omega's instinct tells them to find a safe place to nest down; in a botched heat, survival mode kicks in to try and suppress the heat symptoms long enough to get to safety, but it's essentially a bandaid over a proverbial bullet wound. Paranoia and panic can set in, making it difficult to consider anyplace as a safe and suitable nesting site, and, in extreme cases, their instinct might be screaming at them that nowhere is safe - especially if moving to another location means leaving behind (or simply not having) any nesting materials, comfort items, or food and water. (Symptoms include fever, chills, abdominal pain or muscle spasms, extreme fatigue, extreme anxiety, body tremors, and insomnia.)

Ω Botched ruts tend to look more like an extreme hangover or a concussion. They come with sensitivity to light, sound, and scent, an aversion to touch, heightened irritability, insomnia, headache, and sometimes nausea. An alpha in a botched rut will have their instincts rattled, making them defensive and territorial. Just like in a botched heat, an alpha will find it difficult to trust anyone around them or find anywhere “safe,” as paranoia and anxiety override the typical rut symptoms in a bid to scare or fight off any perceived threat. 

Ω Unfortunately, a botching usually lasts for at least a couple of days, as the body still has to flush out the last of the heat/rut that should have been - which means the poor soul going through it is going to be in pretty rough shape, both for the duration and for about a week afterwards. Post-botching, the alpha/omega with be exhausted, jittery, unfocused, possibly dehydrated, and sore - as though arthritic or anemic. They may experience depression for a month or more afterwards, as well as mild anxiety. The best remedy for a botched heat/rut - both during and after - is to give the individual a safe, secure place to hide and spend the remainder of their cycle. The presence of trusted nestmates is almost always immediately effected, with items scented by them at a close second; favorite nesting materials or personal items are also advised, as are small, dark, quiet, well-stocked (sometimes over-stocked, to alleviate any fear over lack of resources), well-fortified areas for new nests to be built. Closets with locks or a spare room in a packmate’s home are good examples. (The heat/rut itself can rarely be salvaged entirely, but the negative symptoms can be lessened or quelled with the introduction of familiar people, places, or things that typically bring the alpha/omega comfort or elicit thoughts of safety. As with many things, cuddles are often the best remedy.)

💥💥💥

Next up! Behaviors & Characteristics

#spark writes #spark queues #smallestapplin #a/b/o universe #omegaverse #i maaaaaaay have gone a teensy bit overboard #LISTEN I GET REALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT OMEGAVERSE WORLD BUILDING XD

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Update & Withdrawal ~

For this year and potentially next, I'm giving away my keys and my pen, ink, and banning myself from participating in the XIVWrite. Unfortunately I've learned myself and I found I'm too intense and passionate when it comes to certain things especially writing which is my true love in life, I have to cheat on it... I stress my entire existence to limits beyond thresholds until it breaks me and it takes everything for me to recover. Yet... I need one more XIVWrite before I can ever potentially retire here or feel like, I fulfilled everything I absolutely could-do. But I can't have that last one be anything shy of my best the only solution is to starve myself from my drug of choice which is this form of mindbogglingly passion that is my addiction, I need to be able to perform at a level that feels truly, like a climatic frontier.

I still intend to write, but I can't risk taking the XIVWrite especially this year with my other challenge and obligation cause that'll bring my certain demise, I don't quit until the foundation literally crumbles, I was incredibly close after last year of losing this all due to health reasons. -- I'm way too stubborn for this, you love something enough, it draws you in and you can't quit it almost always will see yourself returning to the shore for just the mere sight of it. Doesn't matter if I wake up with little to any energy, I will force it out of me and that's the levels I go. I will ruin my life and take away it all disregard and discard everything for the sake of my interest, my passion, my love, because letting my heart beat for anything less is not living to me.

Not going to lie it's going to be incredibly tough to conqueror my itch. Creating is in my bloodstream, it's what I was born to do, and that's something I say without any inferiority or something I say for the sake of it, I live it, I breathe it, I am it. Writing is the freest form to me.

So I am leaving my closest in-charge of me and gonna have them whack me with a mallet if I try to write for it. I'll still write, chapters, arcs but I should do that organically and I should do it to further stories along so when I do my XIVWrite my characters have a final point to stand on. I don't even know if two years is enough for me to really get all that flushed out so it may take ever longer. But after this one-year challenge, I've set... Ideally I take a break and return and go after only writing in the next wave, probably won't be doing writing everyday but sometime of challenge dedicated to strictly writing so I can keep developing that. I'm going to be watching intently with the people partaking this year, getting fueled and motivated, still going to encourage that up and I recommend you seize and write with your fullest too but be mindful of your limits, do not become me, you are far better than I could ever be my fellow. I cannot, personally, do it safely within my limitations which I know mine. Recently wrapped up Month 2 of my Challenge pretty much of other stuff I worked on and that put a stress-test on me because of how deeply I stuck to the Theme. Forced myself to find solutions to things that didn't exist, create stuff with ingenuity that surely is going to show when releases. And as my last update rambled, I'm already stacked with my mind on the horizon for up to 6 Months ahead. Thinking and visualizing every piece on the chess-board and how I'm going to move, advance. This third month, is where I always drop-off, I've never done three pure full months or been unscathed, I always lose at the count of three it's my failure point.

But I'm going to fight hard. Because I'm not creating just strictly for myself, I'm pulling people in and reaching and gradually seeking to do features, collaborations in this challenge, I want to bring your muse and make art unlike anything ever made before. I will use my best days ahead of me to produce that, the same passion I use for my XIVWrite used to fuel others! No matter how small or large I will always give you what I can. I can't do this alone, that I am strong enough to say upon these days. If you would like to help me feel free to send asks or messages or anything in the inboxes, I take it all on anymore, I'm not slowing down, I have ten months to unleash absolutely everything I have, this stuff keeps me functioning.

With any energy, I will take it and I will disturbing and I'll use it to make something better out of it, for a benefit, not destruction. Even against the most pessimistic, or sour, I will transmute it into something much greater and useful, every-time. You'll find I'm unfathomable and boundless.

My most flaws, weaknesses, are my strongest strengths. My limitations, they only exist for me to stop and survive at the doorway to them, otherwise I'd never surrender. Might start up getting @lordshiroelune more active sometime too within this Year. Even if means I'm sending squabbles IC to myself, always knew this point would come. But I enjoy this stuff too way too much.

Anyways, cheers hearties.

#update #ooc

[starlitangels]

Crochet and Sketches

Was having Huxley thoughts yesterday. Wrote this today for those thoughts 1.3k words (short but sweet)

—

I opened the door. “C’mon in Hux,” I said with a smile.

“Hey dude,” Huxley greeted, stepping over the threshold. The grin on his face was smaller than usual. Had been ever since the Inversion.

“Have a seat. What brings you by? Can I get you a drink?” I gestured to the couch. Hux perched on the edge of the cushion.

“No thanks, I’m good. I, uh, brought you something,” he said. He patted the cushion next to his. I went and sat beside him. From within the pocket of his athletic shorts, he pulled out something made of yellow and green yarn. “This, uh, this is for you.”

I took it from his offering hand and unrolled it. “What is it?” I asked curiously.

“I-it’s a doily.” He picked at some dirt under one of his fingernails and refused to meet my eyes. “It’s for that succulent I gave you when I was moving—so you can put it under the pot and keep whatever surface its on a little cleaner.”

I studied the little decoration. “Huxley—did you make this?” The inside half was yellow, and the outside half was green—like a flower sitting on leaves. In certain spots I could see where the yarn was a little loose, but there was care and attention in every stitch.

I looked up and met Huxley’s eyes. So vibrant green it was almost unnatural. “Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he admitted, quickly looking away.

I wrapped my arms around him. “It’s beautiful. When did you learn to crochet?”

He gestured vaguely—awkwardly—with his hands. “My moms taught me when I was a kid,” he said. “Knit, crochet. The whole gamut. But, uh, I haven’t really done any-a that in a while. My...” He cleared his throat. “My therapist recommended I start it up again. Said the repetitive motions are really good for de-stressing.”

I nodded as understanding hit me. He was being awkward about it because of how we tended to dance around talking about therapy and the reason we were both in it.

I got up from the couch and went to the succulent on the end table nearest the living room window in my apartment. I picked up the small clay pot and set the doily under it. “Look at that,” I said with a smile. “It looks perfect.” I turned back to face my friend. “Thank you, Hux. It’s beautiful, and I love it.”

Hux kept avoiding my gaze and fidgeting. “It’s no problem, Freelancer.”

“Dude, look at me,” I requested softly. Hux met my eyes. “Thank you. Really.”

There was his smile. A little melancholy still, but at least it was there. “You’re welcome, Freelancer.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve started drawing again at the suggestion of my therapist,” I said. I reached into the same end table’s drawer and withdrew my small sketchbook. The big one was back in my bedroom—and my Elemental friends were not allowed to look at it. The sheer amount of Gavin completely naked I’d drawn—or, rather, attempted to draw—would get me so much crap from them. Even if it was hilarious imagining how red Lasko would get in the face at the sight. None of them were allowed to see it.

I handed Huxley the small sketchbook.

“Go ahead. Flip through. There’s nothing... Inversion in there.”

Huxley flipped open the front cover. On the first page, I’d drawn my new family. The group shot we’d taken at the restaurant we’d had dinner at after my performance at the E&E Games.

Huxley touched the page with his fingertips, almost reverently.

“I-it’s a little rough,” I said. “I mean, I haven’t really drawn anything in... God, it’s been years. Since, like, three years before I told my parents about my powers and... y’know.” I cleared my throat. “Moved here.” Lasko was the only one of my friends who knew the whole story of what happened between me and my blood relatives after I told them about my powers, but all my friends knew my parents hadn’t taken it well.

“It looks great,” Huxley said. “I can tell exactly who’s who, even without looking at the photo.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Mind if I leaf through?”

“Go ahead.”

I leaned back casually on my couch and let him flip through the pages at his leisure. My art had taken a near-five-year break from the time I met Caelum for the first time to now, but using it to see the joy in my life again at the suggestion of my therapist had helped more than I thought it might.

Occasionally Hux would look up and ask questions about what I’d drawn. Book characters, TV show characters, friends from my old life, a few blood relatives. I had to lie when he found the picture I’d drawn of Caelum and say he was from a book I’d read as a kid.

After he made it through the pages I’d filled in, he handed it back to me. “Guess we’re both finding coping mechanisms,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. And that’s a good thing, right?”

He nodded too. “Hell yeah, dude.”

I flipped through my sketchbook back to the page of a picture I’d drawn more from memory than any photo on my phone. It was Huxley holding me up by my ankle while I dangled with a grumpy look on my face, arms folded to keep my shirt from falling up too high. He’d been teasing me while we were out at a park with Lasko and Damien. He’d hoisted me up when I’d told him he probably couldn’t. Lasko had a blurry picture that he’d taken hastily, but he’d never sent it to either me or Hux. So the drawing was from memory.

I took a picture of the drawing with my phone—

And promptly tore it out of the book.

“Whoa—dude—what are you doing?” Hux asked.

I leaned closer and held the page out to him. “Take it. I want you to have it,” I said.

“No. Freelancer, I can’t—”

“The damage is done, Hux. I already tore it out. You might as well keep it.” I shook the page at him. “Please.”

Tenderly, he took the paper from my hand. “Thank you, Freelancer. Really. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

I shrugged. “It’s a piece of paper, dude,” I said.

“Yeah. But it’s special. Because it came from someone special. And it’s got a special memory on it. So it should be treated with the respect and care all that deserves.” Hux held the drawing close to him, shrugging slightly.

I smiled. Small, but still touched. “Thanks, Hux,” I said. Settling back against the back of the sofa, I folded my arms. “So. Did you just stop by to drop off the doily or do you wanna chill for a bit? I’m down for ordering out or making something, if you’re hungry.”

Huxley grinned. “I’m down to chill. I’m not hungry yet.”

“Ya wanna get your ass kicked at Smash?”

That got a real laugh out of him. Throaty and deep. Big. His old laugh—from back when we were first getting to know each other. “Oh-ho,” he teased. “Big talker.”

“C’mon, Hux. We both know you can beat me. I’m just smack talking.”

“I know, Freelancer. But... thanks. You always know how to make us all laugh.”

I shrugged. “Natural talent.”

Huxley chuckled. “Alright. If you think you can handle it, I’m down to kick your ass at Smash, Freelancer.”

I laughed and got up. “We shall see, Huxley. We. Shall. See.”

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Huxley #Redacted Freelancer #Huxley #Freelancer #Starlit Fic

[wisdomrays]

DERVISH (Dervish): Part 1

Dervish is a word that means poor, destitute one. Even though it is used for the poor and helpless in worldly terms, in Sufi terminology it is used for those who are aware of their poverty and helplessness before God. Although poverty and helplessness in worldly terms are associated with beggary, travelers to God are not poor and helpless in that they do not ask anyone for anything. Heroes of truth, who have dedicated themselves to God, are content with what He has given them and are indifferent to all other things. Even in hunger and thirst they unburden themselves to God, without revealing their need to others. A dervish is also regarded as being the threshold to a door. This does not mean that dervishes humiliate themselves before people; rather, it means that they are humble and in their awareness of their nothingness before God attribute to Him whatever they may possess that is worthy of appreciation. They are also humble among people because of the Creator and always aware that they are a precious work of God's art with all the Divine gems inherent in their nature.

Sometimes perfect people are mentioned as being the dervishes of a certain guide. This is because it is important to stress the place of a dervish, both in the sight of God and of people. Besides, sometimes simple, humble, content, and lenient people are called dervishes, while there are some great, sagacious persons with a deep knowledge of God who are known as "a poor one with the heart of sultan," in that they are magnanimous even though poor.

The leading scholars of Sufism describe a true dervish as one who is abstinent, pious, righteous, patient, loving, tolerant, and steadfast, severing relations with all else save God from the heart, and devoted to His service with the intention and effort of reaching Him.

A dervish takes his or her first step by holding back from sins and by fulfilling obligatory and supererogatory religious duties. The second step is to be loving and tolerant toward everyone, to see the universe as a cradle of brotherhood/sisterhood, and to try to represent the nature and morals of Muhammad, and the truth of his being Ahmad, upon him be peace and blessings. The third step is to reach the horizon of sincerity and perfect goodness and to develop the theoretical knowledge and belief based on imitation into experience and verified truths.

At the first stage, dervishes are at the beginning of piety, and demonstrate that they are ready to understand the Qur'an and to start the journey to meet with the Almighty. They are awarded in proportion to their sincerity and purity of intention and advance toward piety and the summits of being pleased with God and finally into the Gardens of Paradise.

God Almighty says: The great among you are those who are pious.

The last abode of the pious will be Paradise and their drink will be kawthar.

In the second stage, they build relations with all existence, living or non-living, (without, however, assigning their heart to any other than the Almighty) and appreciate each according to its position. They love and embrace everything, repel hostilities with love, and evil with good. Thinking that the road that they are to follow is the road of not showing resentment, but rather that of patience and tolerance, they run toward the rank of being pleased with God, and whisper like Yunus:

You should be voiceless to one who curses, and handless to one who beats;

A dervish should have no heart to resent, so you cannot be a dervish.

In the third stage, dervishes are persons of peace and spiritual vision, having entered the way of seeing, feeling, and knowing only Him, and being faithful friends of Him. It makes no difference to them whether good comes from friends or evil from enemies. This is even more so if they have heard the voice of the Friend, then they will no longer feel breaths other than His, and will be freed from interest in and worries about any other than Him, acquiring a second nature that is determined by "secret." They know what they really should know and are freed from bearing a burden of unnecessary information.

#allah #god #islam #muslim #revert #convert #quran #ayat #help #hijab #prophet #muhammad #hadith #sunnah #religion #reminder #pray #prayer #salah #muslimah #dua #convert help #revert help #islam help #muslim help #welcome to islam #how to convert to islam #new convert #new revert #new muslim

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Amazon trains 980M parameter LLM with 'emergent abilities'

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/amazon-trains-980m-parameter-llm-with-emergent-abilities/

Amazon trains 980M parameter LLM with 'emergent abilities'

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Researchers at Amazon have trained a new large language model (LLM) for text-to-speech that they claim exhibits “emergent” abilities. 

The 980 million parameter model, called BASE TTS, is the largest text-to-speech model yet created. The researchers trained models of various sizes on up to 100,000 hours of public domain speech data to see if they would observe the same performance leaps that occur in natural language processing models once they grow past a certain scale. 

They found that their medium-sized 400 million parameter model – trained on 10,000 hours of audio – showed a marked improvement in versatility and robustness on tricky test sentences.

The test sentences contained complex lexical, syntactic, and paralinguistic features like compound nouns, emotions, foreign words, and punctuation that normally trip up text-to-speech systems. While BASE TTS did not handle them perfectly, it made significantly fewer errors in stress, intonation, and pronunciation than existing models.

“These sentences are designed to contain challenging tasks—none of which BASE TTS is explicitly trained to perform,” explained the researchers. 

The largest 980 million parameter version of the model – trained on 100,000 hours of audio – did not demonstrate further abilities beyond the 400 million parameter version.

While an experimental process, the creation of BASE TTS demonstrates these models can reach new versatility thresholds as they scale—an encouraging sign for conversational AI. The researchers plan further work to identify optimal model size for emergent abilities.

The model is also designed to be lightweight and streamable, packaging emotional and prosodic data separately. This could allow the natural-sounding spoken audio to be transmitted across low-bandwidth connections.

You can find the full BASE TTS paper on arXiv here.

(Photo by Nik on Unsplash)

See also: OpenAI rolls out ChatGPT memory to select users

Want to learn more about AI and big data from industry leaders? Check out AI & Big Data Expo taking place in Amsterdam, California, and London. The comprehensive event is co-located with other leading events including BlockX, Digital Transformation Week, and Cyber Security & Cloud Expo.

Explore other upcoming enterprise technology events and webinars powered by TechForge here.

Tags: ai, Amazon, artificial intelligence, base tts, conversational ai, large language model, llm

#000 #2024 #AGI #ai #ai &amp; big data expo #ai news #Amazon #amp #applications #artificial #Artificial Intelligence #audio #base tts #Big Data #chatbots #chatGPT #Cloud #coffee #Companies #comprehensive #conversational ai #cyber #cyber security #data #Digital Transformation #emotions #enterprise #Events #Exhibits #experimental

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The Use of Kinesio Tape in Rehabilitation Programmes

Kinesio Taping"—What Exactly Is It?

Kinesio taping is a tape that improves fitness and speeds up the healing process after an injury. It is a colourful tape applied to the lymphatic system near the site of harm. It is simple to use, but a physiotherapist must apply it correctly for treatment to be effective.

Moreover, Kinesio tape is an athletic tape that can be stretched beyond its original length and has a number of potential benefits for improving pain threshold and performance. This is accomplished by the extensible nature of the tape, which is made of a cotton and nylon blend meant to mimic the elasticity of human skin.

Kinesio tape is believed to offer various advantages, including pain alleviation, strengthening weak parts, increasing sensory input, and improving performance. As a result, athletes and rehabilitation specialists may discover that Kinesio tape is an effective tool for speeding up the healing process.

What Are the Advantages of Kinesio Taping?

Extra lymph nodes and blood are present under the skin at the injury site, causing pain receptors to fire. Kinesio tape lifts the skin, allowing lymph and blood to flow away from the incision and relieving agony. Other benefits of using Kinesio tape treatment include:

·        Strengthening muscles

·        Increasing awareness of one's body in space, or kinaesthetic awareness

·        Supporting the alignment of joints and muscles

·        Prevents overstretching of the muscles

·        Allows for a range of motions

·        Lowering the level of inflammation

Why Is Kinesio Taping Unique?

Kinesiotape is made up of 100% cotton fibres wrapped around polymer elastic. It can be expanded up to 140% longer than before and may retract to its original length after use. Despite being waterproof, the material allows moisture to dissipate.

As a result, it can be worn for hours at a time, including when exercising or showering. Kinesiotape is unique in that it mimics the physical properties of human skin. Its weight, thickness, and natural elastic properties are like the epidermis. To resemble fingerprints, a heat-activated, wave-like medical adhesive is applied.

How is Kinesiotape Used in Physiotherapy Centres?

Kinesiotaping is one way that a physical therapist can use to help patients restore their normal range of motion. The procedure involves attaching Kinesio tape strips in certain directions to the body's affected areas for a variety of objectives, including:

Handling Injuries: 

When used with other treatments such as manual therapy, Kinesio tape can help reduce pain and swelling. It is thought to leave a tiny gap between the skin's underlying structures and the skin itself. Muscular performance and activation improve as a result.

Adding Additional Support: 

Kinesio tape can assist strengthen weak joints and muscles. It is advised for persons with Achilles tendonitis, IT band friction syndrome, and patellofemoral stress syndrome since it is effective for weary muscles.

Retraining Muscles: 

Research indicates that feeling tape on your skin makes you more aware of your motions. As a result, therapists use it to retrain muscles that are dysfunctional or have formed an undesirable pattern of functioning.

Preventing Additional Injury: 

Kinesio taping prevents injured muscles or joints from overstretching or constricting while allowing for complete range of motion. It can help avoid muscle cramps and spasms by increasing blood flow to overworked or weary muscles.

Relieving Pain:

Kinesiology tape is an effective pain reliever, even though it contains no prescription or topical medications. Lifting the skin lowers strain on susceptible pain receptors. It prevents pain signals from reaching the brain and exerts an associative effect on pain pathways.

Sports and Musculoskeletal Therapy

Kinesio taping is a brief and supportive treatment. Still, resolving the underlying issue is critical to a complete recovery. Please contact our experts to learn more about how Kinesiotaping's therapeutic benefits can help your problem.

Among the many specialised treatments offered by the clinic are sports massage in Dubai, osteopathic manipulation, lymphatic drainage, therapeutic massage, and musculoskeletal physical therapy.

How Should Kinesio Tape be Used in Sports and Rehab?

Kinesio tape may be useful for both athletes and rehabilitation doctors. When used properly, it can relieve pain and swelling, provide feedback, and protect injured areas. Despite a lack of clear facts, Kinesio tape has lasted and thrived as a rehabilitation therapy.

Physical therapists, athletic trainers, and chiropractors are among the most common practitioners who use it to help their patients and athletes regain their prior level of function. Kinesio tape is a valuable tool in most practitioners' toolboxes. While it will not solve the problem, it can assist speed up the healing process. It should not be used at a consistent rate throughout the season, as with everything else in rehabilitation.

Kinesio tape is meant to be a short-term (three to five days for a single application) treatment for athletes and patients dealing with acute injuries; nonetheless, it is not a completely reliable method of assisting them in achieving their goals. Our systems require stress from our bodies; constant shielding inhibits us from adapting and does not cure our injuries.

Kinesio tape is thought to provide various advantages. It may not be the ideal option for everyone, but sportsmen and rehabilitation professionals should consider it.