#but I'm so tired lately and struggling to focus and I don't have people to talk to about it frankly here

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

..

[evilminji]

O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>

Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!

Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.

It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.

I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.

That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.

But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.

Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.

Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.

Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?

It looks radioactive.

He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.

Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.

He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.

He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...

Their containment field drops.

They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.

Arthur is sucked in.

Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.

He hits HARD.

But not the ground like he had planned.

He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.

He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.

Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.

Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.

"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"

Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.

More concerning? The injuries.

There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.

"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"

Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[bobbiereynolds]

Thunderbolts Preference: Finding Our You're Manic

Requested: ENNAAA THUNDERBOLTS ERA….. to kick it off (loved the other ones btw) could i request some preferences with the whole gang + reader struggling w/ mania?? wondering how they’d react, esp bob (yk because of sentry and all that..)bonus points if you can cram in some slips of mania/depression lapses 🤭 you always write them so beautifully i hope you like my vision ✨ - @vantasxstrider

A/N: Yesssssssssss!!!!!! Yes, yes, yes!!!! Omg ok I want to preface this with ya gurl only gets hypomanic, and mine looks/feels very different from the people in my family, so some stuff might be a lil odd lol but I'm also using my understanding/knowledge of full blown mania as well! Also! Here is a good overview for anyone curious about Bipolar Disorder 💕 I hope you like it my dude!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Bucky is one of the first people to notice the change in you. Not just psychical (dilated pupils, fast talking, pacing and fidgeting more, telling him about your new ideas and plans for the future), but also mental. You had been depressed for a while and he hoped you were getting better, that it was finally going away. Slowly you started getting out of bed more, training with your teammates, attending meetings, etc. What he did not anticipate was that it would swing the other way and you'd become manic. You haven't slept in a few days and you're not the slightest bit tired. You have all these ideas and racing thoughts. He brings up the topic lightly, knowing you don't always recognize the symptoms until someone else points them out. He doesn't want you to be alone, so he stays up with you and makes sure you're doing everything you can to keep this in control.

Alexei is the last person to realize you're manic. He thinks you're just happier, more energetic, that you must've slept really well because you're so much more alive all of a sudden. You want to train with him and explore New York and watch every movie you've written down that includes some obscure actor you've never heard of and redecorate your room and talk to Valentina about the new designs you've made for your suit and, and, and. . . It isn't until Ava and Bucky, the "adults" of the team, tell him to keep an eye on you. He doesn't want to ask, he doesn't want to ruin the fun you're having, but it doesn't last forever. You're not having fun anymore. Your thoughts are so loud and they don't stop. It's constant, like bees buzzing, and though you try to focus, you can't. It's been days since you slept and Alexei's getting worried. That's when he takes their advice. He doesn't want you to hurt the way you are, he just wants you to be okay.

Yelena doesn't put it together at first. When you're manic, you get so paranoid. People watching you, stalking you, the whole world is out to get you. Little things too, like the dark, under the bed, in the closet. You know it's silly to be afraid of something, or someone, under your bed, but you ask her to check anyways. You can't get the idea out of your head and end up leaving your room all together. She asks how long it's been since you've slept and you admit it's been a while. Your room is too dark and you're too afraid to look out the windows. Someone could be watching you. She offers her room, saying she's checked and there is no one in there, no cameras, nothing. She stays up late to talk about other things you've been feeling. Your skin won't stop crawling no matter how many showers you take and your thoughts are racing. You have no appetite and, to cope, you've been drinking more than usual. She wants to help you, to make you feel better, so she reads up on how to help, what to do. In the meantime, she makes sure you rest, even if it's in her bed, and urges you to stop drinking, to take your meds instead.

Ava, like Bucky, is one of the first to notice you're manic. It's subtle things that give it away, things you don't recognize until she points it out to you. Talking faster, feeling energized by little sleep, spending hours in the training gym, eating less, etc. She never wants you to feel like you're some basket case they put up with and have to monitor. You're their friend, their teammate, before anything else. Ava hates that she has to ask this, but she wants to know if you've been taking your meds. You haven't. You stopped. You feel great, better than great, so you don't need them anymore. That is not what she wants to hear. No matter what you think or how you're feeling, you need to stay on them. She tells you this in a firm, but kind way, wanting you to know how important this is. Together you'd come up with a crisis plan on what to do if you ever went through an episode again. She sticks to it no matter how insistent you are that you don't need it. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

John is not the first person you would go to in this situation, but he's the only one up at three in the morning and you need someone to check in your bathroom if there are cameras. You swear you can see the little red dots that means they're on, that you can hear the small whirring of the cameras zooming in, but you also know, with Ava and Buckys help, that you're manic and it might not be real. Because they spoke to him beforehand, he doesn't come up with the jokes and quips he usually would. Instead he follows you to your room and checks the bathroom, genuinely looking around where you said they were and tells you there's nothing to worry about. he doesn't always understand what you and Bob go through, but he knows he could be better about in general. it is something that can take control and you are genuinely scared of someone watching you. If he can help in any way, he will. John offers to sit outside your bathroom door while you shower so you're not alone and, oddly, the idea brings you a lot of comfort. He never makes a big deal about him helping, it's the least he can do.

Bob understands 10000%. He hates that you're going through this, that you end up hurting yourself or others because your mind is too loud and your skin won't stop crawling and the world is brighter. You end up drinking more than you normally do to try to sleep, to calm your nerves, and that doesn't sit right with him. He cuts you off completely, knowing it's a slippery slope. He feels like he can do that, whereas the others might not, because he understands so well and because he can tell you stories of when he was in active addiction that he doesn't want you to repeat yourself. he stays up with you when you can't sleep, but does want you to lay down and at least rest. He talks to you when you're on your fifth shower of the day because it's the only thing that calms your skin, trying to make you laugh when the water burns. He's there for you in the highs and he'll be there for you when you crash and the depression comes back full force. You're grateful for one another. You don't have to explain anything to one another, you just get it.

[walsuf]

hey I wanna make a character with narcolepsy and I've been doing my own research but I also felt like maybe asking someone who has it and stuff and since you made that comic headcannoning SM with it (really neat btw <3) I thought that you may be comfortable sharing some experience with it (as much as you feel comfortable ofc!) so I could better understand it so I may fit it into a character myself. OBVIOUSLY YOU DONT NEED TO ACCEPT IF YOU DONT WANT TO! this is coming out of nowhere and stuff so apologies if you feel uncomfortable!

[LONG POST] Yeah! Let's talk narcolepsy! Some things that might help (ft. Shadow Milk)

First and foremost, I want to say that my experience with narcolepsy is going to be very different from other people's, and I'm mostly just going to yap about my own details. Everyone experiences their symptoms in a unique way, kinda like how every bag of fruit snacks is different. You anticipate the same stuff inside (symptoms), but one bag will have all of the colors and another might have all orange ones.

I think my biggest advice here is to not dogpile all the symptoms, just focus on what heavily affects a character the most. Sometimes that's going to be nightmarish hallucinations, sometimes their sleep attacks; for Shadow Milk, I fixate a lot on cataplexy! (Weakness is a huge thing that I struggle with personally.) Regardless of additional symptoms, excessive daytime sleepiness will always be present :p

This one might be hard, but do something that you resonate with the most. Most people have experienced sleep paralysis at least once; a lot of people with narcolepsy get sleep paralysis very often, usually accompanied by visual/audio/tactile hallucinations. Then, it becomes a matter of changing the frequency and intensity rather than making something up.

When it comes to hallucinations, they can sometimes be horrifying (and are exacerbated by sickness, lack of sleep, and general unwellness). I find that a lot of people with nightmares and frightening hallucinations tend to have those in excess; I personally almost never get those. My hallucinations are usually very minor, like seeing the lights flicker when I close my eyes, or feeling like my body is surrounded by water or gently rocking back and forth. My most frequent one (and by far the most annoying) is that coming out of sleep I hear my alarm going off or my name being called. Neither of which are actually happening.

Excessive daytime sleepiness (EDS), like everything else, presents differently in everyone. Sleep attacks are only one aspect of it---which gives a person the nearly irresistible need to sleep for seconds to sometimes hours. Some people thug them out (often they can be resisted) because they find themselves losing way more time succumbing to it. Some people fall asleep very quickly, and can be in the middle of an important thing while doing so. I've personally fallen asleep mid-lecture while writing notes, and looking back at them is... interesting (there's a thing called "automatic behaviors" you might want to look into). Personally, I don't get sleep attacks often, but they are exhausting to deal with, and make me pretty much appear and act drunk without the fun part.

My normal experience with EDS is just a general level of sleepiness following me throughout the day, like that same feeling you get while working on an essay late in the night. It's manageable, but sucks. This isn't to say I never feel alert, there are good days and bad days, but most are in this sleepy middle ground that forces me to nap twice a day (noon and afternoon) lest I get all grouchy and my speech starts to slur.

From the outside perspective, sometimes people can guess that I'm having a sleep attack or just generally sleepy before I even know. I'll be told, "you sound tired," which is almost followed up with an, "...I do???" I crash within the next ten minutes almost every time.

Cataplexy is a symptom specific to N1 (which is actually an autoimmune disease, fun fact), and also happens to be what I struggle with frequently. It has strong emotional triggers (think anxiety, anger, surprise, laughter [doesn't have to be all of those, just pick a few]) and causes a degree of weakness. This can be anything from eye twitches and difficulty holding up the neck to full body collapses. For the most part, I feel it in my hands. When I laugh, I can't write or clench my hands any more. They become useless floppy limbs until a few minutes pass and they're back to normal. I am (unfortunately) a very giggly person. Personally, my slightest attacks make my head fall forward. My most severe one had me collapsing 6 times in the course of 15 minutes, hitting my head each time. Cataplexy attacks can cause subsequent attacks to come easier, and it's difficult to break the cycle. I avoid stairs for this reason.

If you've ever experienced morning weakness, or a few minutes in the morning where its slightly more difficult to hold things and get around, that's a lot like what minor cataplexy feels like, except condensed into a short, spontaneous episode. Oh! And it's often accompanied with blurred vision (look up ptosis) and speech difficulties as well!

I don't fear any of my symptoms because that's just how I experience the world. I've always felt weakness with laughter, so I thought that was always normal. I've been frequently sleepy and assumed that I was somehow lazier than everyone else. Now, I try to listen to my body. It takes a lot of effort to stop a conversation and go to sleep because my body needs it, and it sometimes sucks to forewarn my lab partners not to tell jokes around me. Sometimes I lay down in the middle of nowhere and have random people asking if I'm okay (hate this, I'm usually too weak to respond).

All in all, just try to make it a set of circumstances that someone else lives with rather than a set of symptoms that constantly put a character into crisis mode. People with narcolepsy don't need to be babied (I sincerely hope my comics don't come off that way because they're rooted in personal experience), they can manage their symptoms just fine on their own. Self-accommodations can come off as strange or funny (bringing a blanket everywhere, wearing sunglasses to manage minor cataplexy, wrist strap on the phone so as not to drop it), but they're there for a reason.

Sorry for the tangent, I've actually been on a heavy uptick educating myself. A good place to go for life experiences would be, of course, the narcolepsy subreddit. It's a good resource for people talk rather than medical jargon. If you need any examples for how to write or depict certain symptoms, though, I would be more than happy to do that on request! (I loove writing drabbles, and I know there's almost 0 narcolepsy fics, much less any written by people who care about accuracy. I'm begging to be asked here [will probably cookie run-ify everything though])

Thank you for reading if you got this far, and I hope this helped!

[ronearoundblindly]

A celebration prompt!! 🥳

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Curtis Everett + there’s only one bed AU 👀 Emphasis on the AU because Snowpiercer is depressing AF 🤣❤️

womp womp, this got 🌶️🌶️🌶️ but perhaps in a tamer way than you think?? whatever happened, i want it. let's leave it at that.

regional political candidate!curtis x staffer!reader

Warnings for smut (act surprised, I dare you), dry-humping, woah-nessie sexual tension, realistic concerns about stains lol, and my knowing the poli-ladder only from watching West Wing, sorry. MINORS DNI. Youngins, you can find plenty to read on my Light Masterlist, but not this! WC 1608

It's a simple mistake.

When Pete called to book for your group of four people (because Mr. Everett is running a very small campaign to keep it very personal for this rural tour), the older woman who owns the tiny B&B heard "a family of four" and held only two rooms. The old, converted mansion doesn't have connecting suites or a basement full of cots to request. There's naught but a high-backed chair in the corner other than the single queen-sized bed against the other wall, and considering you heard Tommy exclaim, "two twins, you gotta be kidding me," no better options exist.

There's three grown men and you. That's it. So either two six-footers struggle--you know what? This isn't your fault, it's just one night, and the hour is too late already.

You don't care anymore.

If Mr. Everett says nothing, you won't say anything. Better to suck it up now instead of ruin the rotation of who bunks with whom. Your boss and candidate is professional enough under all sorts of pressure. It will be fine.

He lets you use the bathroom first, and you immediately get into your comfy (but ample coverage) pajamas, hydrate, wash, moisturize, and brush quickly. No need to make a whole show of being the only woman. Believe it, they know.

"All yours," you announce, reorganizing your bag to have tomorrow's necessities up top.

He simply grunts while flipping through the factory info for the morning meet-and-greet.

As casually as you can, you setup on the farther side of the bed so as not to block him from his suitcase and review the schedule on your phone, resetting your alarm for the right time based on driving distance to the first stop. You get lost in the whole process for a while then look up to see Mr. Everett throwing a blanket over himself in the chair as if he's going to sleep right there, sitting up.

"Sir, you can't do that."

"Why not? I'm tired and I'm here and it's cushioned," he grumbles, purposefully being inarticulate because you've mentioned more than once that he mumbles when answering 'stupid questions.' "We've had a long enough day, you should call me 'Curtis' or I'll make you ride in the backseat."

"Curtis, then," you respond, "if you sleep in that chair, you will look more like shit than you already do. I will put concealer on you. Do not test me."

He gives you the stink eye, contemplating his options, and eventually tosses the blanket off to slide onto the mattress beside you.

It creaks fiercely. You and Curtis make faces at the sounds but don't say anything more about it. He tucks an arm under his head, stretching out with his feet completely off the bed, and after another minute or so, you click off the bedside lamp and turn over to fall fast asleep, the bunched up quilt in between you as a barrier, and the slightly wonky fan above you sounding like a distant warp engine.

You don't know what actually woke you. You didn't startle from a dream, didn't have a feeling of fallen, or feel any movement around you. You're not too hot or too cold. You're just right and...weighted down...but not?

You yawn and blink to focus, stiffening when you realize the weight is Curtis's arm across your waist and your own leg is tossed over his hip. Your boss's head is pressed into your chest, the buzzed hairs prickling through the fabric of your pajama top.

The quilt you probably each thought the other was is wadded near your feet, precariously ready to fall off the bed entirely.

He must not have been in this position for long because the arm he's laying on (your arm) isn't numb yet. Your other arm is draped over his on you, hand hanging off the edge of his tricep.

It's very...comfortable.

You've never really seen Curtis's arms. He always wears button-downs and at least 3/4 sleeve shirts, but tonight, his t-shirt is loose and stretched out, rolled up by tossing, turning, and gravity. He's not tan--he's never tan--but it's so dark in the room that his pale skin only slightly differs from the charcoal of the clothes and near-black of his hair. You can see enough though.

Even with his body relaxed, the muscles of his arm are thick, prominent, pushing veins to the surface like a road map to victory for you to study--

Nope. NO! Bad brain!

You need to find a way to untangle yourself from your boss without embarrassing yourself, or him, or your inner horny gremlin now enjoying the slight, involuntary clench of his fingers in the small of your back. The sudden tickle of that makes you jerk forward, grabbing the arm already in your hand for stability.

Shit.

So much for subtlety.

Curtis rouses, inhaling deeply where his nose is practically lodged between your breasts, and begins to straighten out, lifting his head slowly. The move is not enough to knock your leg off of him. In fact, his shuffling places his top knee directly in the middle of your thighs.

The gravelly way he says your name, sleepy, hopeful, questioning, calling...it's so sexy, it stops you in your tracks.

His lashes flutter against your chin as his beard drags over your arm, and Curtis looks up at you.

The dark obscures any nuance you could discern from his expression, leaving your breath to catch like a caged animal desperate to be free. Your heart hums in anticipation while you wait for an apology, or a scolding, or disgust, anything but what you want, what he actually does next.

His hips roll forward, elongating his spine so his lips can reach yours. The kiss is tender and heated.

Stunned, your reactions--though excited--seem jumpy in comparison to the assured and casual way Curtis devours you, so slowly, so confident, but you're never held down or shut up. Each time he closes what few gaps remain between you, there's a pause, a chance for you to voice some concern, to halt him.

Curtis doesn't trap you; he cradles you.

Without words, you know he's wanted this, but you don't know for how long. The most you know of his personal life is women don't come and go like a revolving door. He's not a fuck-and-fuck-off type, but in your wildest--most suppressed--dreams, you never imagined he'd be so intense and devoted from the first kiss.

You're both still clothed, for christ's sake.

Unrushed, the hand at your back goes from teasing the strip of skin exposed above your waistband to tugging you up his leg. Higher and higher you rock, bit by bit so that the creaky springs don't give away what's happening in the dark.

He feels so wonderful, and he's sure to make you feel him everywhere, the only words he offers whispered against your swollen lips warn that you're moaning, gasping too loudly.

"Be good."

You run your hands over the soft bristle of his hair and nod, ghosting a 'yes, sir' before grinding into the bulge he's perfectly positioned, hips maneuvered to seat perfectly between yours, both arms encircling you perfectly.

So fucking perfect in that intense, quiet, dark way.

The rippling buzz of the ceiling fan drowns out the pleased rumble from Curtis's chest, but the vibrations seep from his skin to yours.

You're climbing high, wet enough for your bottoms to stick in place while the bulbous head of his cock grows distinct through damp fabric.

He holds you, grips your ass to keep you exactly where you need to be, muttering "come on, come on" in a demanding, wrecked tone more devastating than any fantasy you've ever had. He peppers your neck and jaw with kisses because the quick little movements keep your lips from aligning. Concentrating on staying silent delays the inevitable, but not for long.

Though you want that praise, those phrases that could wash you slowly back down to Earth, you still relish his touch, those broad shoulders you hang onto, those large hands bracing you during impact. He's everywhere.

Curtis steadily relaxes as your own breathing settles.

A lone groan precedes his "I--I'll be right back," and just like that you're left alone in the bed, straining to hear after the bathroom door shuts.

Worry sets in.

Have you crossed a line? Well, more of a line or one you didn't know about?

You roll over to your other side, watching the shadowy leaves and swaying branches through the window, bathed in dim moonlight, until there's a flush and a literal washing sound behind you. Your whole body dips when he climbs back in.

Curtis has brought the quilt back up, lays it over you both, and curls around you.

The renewed warmth makes you keen, a whimper of peaceful pleasure escaping you, louder than all the rest that was said and done.

He props himself up, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"I will do--" his beard grazes the shell of your ear "--anything you ask of me. Always have," he breathes, "always will."

Curtis tucks in behind you again, weighty arm lacing beneath yours, deflating the worry filling your chest.

"But let's go to sleep now," he grumbles, "and make sure tomorrow there's a king...that doesn't shriek like a banshee."

"Condoms, too," you add before your eyes shut and your brain realizes.

That pleased rumble still gets drowned out by the fan, but you feel it anyway.

Because he's everywhere, and you're his everything.

[Main Masterlist; Sleepover Masterlist]

A/N: I'm fine. I can live without him. I'm fine. ::dies::

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63

[nnakariiii]

Reigen asks you for help (Reigen Arataka x gn!reader)

Reigen is your annoying employer but you've become closer recently. Seems like he needs your help with 'Spirits and Such' official website.

You've been Reigen's employee for a while already. It's not like you treated him as your real 'boss', more like a dumb friend, but you still had to help him a lot

You were a real psychic and you had to work with spirits when Mob were at school or something. You knew that Reigen has no psychic powers and always mocked him

Now Reigen has a bad reputation as a 'fake psychic' and you don't have any clients. Seeing him being so desperate made you feel kinda sad

One late evening Reigen was struggling to redesign the website and you were trying to sleep on the desk sitting next to him

'You promised to help me! Why are you fooling around? What do I pay you for?...', he suddenly complained while poking your shoulder. You raised you tired head to look at his face

'You said I don't have any taste, so maybe you should deal with it yourself', you yawned and rubbed your eyes before putting your head back on the desk.

Reigen looks at you with the most dramatic expression and then turns back to the laptop screen

In a few minutes he says, 'Okay, I'm sorry... But really... Help me.'

Now you smile teasingly, 'So, my taste isn't that bad?'

He ignores the question and shows you the main page of the website on his laptop, 'What do you think about the colors? I believe people are attracted to bright features, right?'

'Bright colors look cheap', you move your chair closer to his to take the mouse and click on the option you like more

'Maybe you're right', he sighs hopelessly

'Why did you even decide to change the website? You have nothing to do?', you ask seriously now

'Huh? Me? Nothing to do?', he says in the most offended tone and laughs, ' Oh, please. I'm the greatest psychic of the 21st century! I am incredibly busy all the time'

'Where are our clients then?', you ask with a smirk on your face. The office actually looks as empty as a desert

'Aah... That...', he's desperately trying to find and excuse but he just nods, 'Fine... You win.'

You sigh. Kinda feel sympathetic to him. 'Okay, I'll help you. The thing is I hate seeing you sad more than the fact you're annoying'

'Do you care about me?', he asks teasingly but his heart starts beating faster for some reason

'Well, my salary depends on it as well', you add as an excuse with a hint of emberassment because of his question

'Yeah! As my employee you better help me!'

Despite being the one in charge, Reigen actually likes almost all your suggestions

Just to maintain some kind of authority he critizes some of your ideas and offers some of his own

But... he can feel how close you are. You're almost leaning over him when you're trying to use the laptop. It kinda makes it hard for him to focus on website

In a couple of hours you've finally finished

'It looks great, doesn't it?', he asks with an excitement, 'You have a real talent for this kind of stuff, you know.'

'Huh, well, the talents costs some money, you know', you answer teasingly

He rolls his eyes and looks at you like he's judging, 'How much do you want?'

'Just kidding', you smile softly, 'I don't need your money. Consider I've just helped a friend.'

'But I'm not always this nice', you add and wink

Hearing you refer him as a friend feels oddly nice. He shakes off this feeling and decides to tease you back

'Oh, really? I was ready to pay a hefty sum but if you say so...', he acts like he's the most generous person in the world right now

You smirk with an interest, 'Oh, well, I mean, I wouldn't mind... How much, by the way?'

'A million yen', he says full of confidence.

'Oh, stop. I know you don't have a million yen. Even if you had you wouldn't pay me this much for the website redesign', you say stubbornly and tap his forehead

He knew you were just messing around but... you were still so close and you had that smile on your face and those eyes and... damn

'Hey', Reigen says with some kind of determination, 'What about some tokoyaki then? My treat'

'Are you asking me on a date?'

'Maybe. Does it work?'

'Definetely'

You guys LOVE Reigen Arataka. So many likes on previous posts. Thank you so much! Hope you like this one too. I also really need your feedback so don't be shy to leave comment about thing you like and you don't! Love ya

[olivianyx]

Hey babe, I'm not going for my sad story but I struggled for 2 years ,it's not like success story but Now I have friends, my family I'm feeling good. My others thinks are also perfect. But all I want is to enter void coz I want my perfect dream life so bad , but I have really packed schedule for my school , please tell me something At night I get really tired And slept .

I really want to enter void

OKAY THIS IS FOR EVERYONE TRYING TO (BECOMING AWARE OF) ENTER THE VOID STATE

Heyy! Sorry for the late response 😭😭 school's beating up my ass as well.

Okay, the overrated void community here. So as I always say, void isn't difficult. It's easy as fuck and you always enter it while you fall asleep. Only thing you gotta do is be AWARE in the void.

Well that's where everyone over complicates it. Just become AWARE. Ik it's instant for some people, while some take patience, practice and consistency to enter the void.

Well this applies for the people who take action (action in the sense changing the story they focus on), discipline themselves and do whatever consistently.

And not to the people who know all the info and still choose to complain or procrastinate. Well I don't blame you for being this way, since you're programmed to be this way since childhood, and it's not your fault. But, it's your fault if you know it, and don't program it the way you want it to be.

So I'll be going to give you sone tips that everyone and anyone can use.

TIP NO. 1

SELF CONCEPT

I won't stop mentioning this in my posts. IT'S THE KEY TO MANIFESTING. YOU'RE LITERALLY CHANGING YOURSELF TO SEE THE CHANGE OUTSIDE! I recommend reading @/meraskii posts on Instagram, she explains self concept better than I do, and she's got a challenge you can try it for yourself. I recommend watching these YouTubers

Rita Kaminski

Dylan James

Sammy Ingram

Hyler

Kim Velez

Indigo Detry

Manifesting with Kimberly

Manifest it, finesse it

Electrasoul

They're excellent coaches, you can watch their videos. All of their videos changes your lives!

TIP NO. 2

Read COPY OF ROTTEN'S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO SHIFTING REALITIES

Here's, she explains very well of the infamous FOCUS 10 STATE, which is nothing but MIND AWAKE, BODY ASLEEP state. Try using Monroe's gateway tapes, she's linked it in the guide herself. Follow her instructions. It's really good to use it at the night time especially. But don't use it if you're really tired that you fall asleep when you hit your head at the pillow. Use it when you're more relaxed and not tired.

Use it till you effortlessly enter the focus 10. Again don't ask me 'hOw LoNg Do YoU tHiNk It TaKeS?' Tf?? Like literally, people don't understand the meaning of living in the end??? Like fulfill it this moment and fucking let go. For some people, because of their mindset might get into focus 10 in one listen or one try. Others may get it in a week, in a month, and longer. So have patience. Have some self discipline, and maintain consistency. It's like practicing to play piano. You won't get how to play it in one try, you'll practice it everyday until you get it. The same concept. Get your lazy ass up and go do it. Practice this now, for an eternity of bliss.

Like you know how useful this focus 10 is?? Like you can shift realities, get into the void, manifest whatever the fuck you want and so on. It's literally wonderful.

When you can get into focus 10 effortlessly, you can go to advanced focus 10 tape. There's proper instructions in the guide. Get your lazy complaining ass go through the guide once (compulsorily!) since she's mentioned many things you never know you needed.

After you practice with these gateway tapes, and you're perfectly in a state where you can get that BODY ASLEEP MIND AWAKE state, you're good to enter the void with this state!

TIP NO. 3

Enter the void! And fucking go live your dream life! I wanna see y'alls success stories.

- Olivia 🤍

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tiny exception [pt. 2] - stellaron hunter crew

summary; there's one little exception to the rules of the stellaron hunters...

genre/extra tags; one shot, fluff, a lot of fluff, comedy, children are menaces but it's okay, blade will be punting a kid (/j), rich aunt kafka, silver wolf doesn't know how to handle kids

[platonic] [5-7 year old reader] [gender neutral reader]

[buy me a kofi to support!]

word count; 615

a/n; finally i have finished the part two of this iconic work bc someone requested it. hope you enjoy!

[rule 1; don't bother blade]

this rule really should be obvious. it really should, but kids don't listen to obvious rules.

"why are you so grumpy?"

"because of you."

"that's mean. you're really mean." you sit right on his lap because you felt stubborn today. "and you're stupid." silver wolf stifles a laugh at the sight before her. you and blade glare at each other as you poke at his face like a cat. "and ugly."

"i think you're talking about yourself." anyone who didn't know blade would think, man, he doesn't like this kid. but from the way he holds you gently and the tiny glint of playfulness in his eyes as he talks to you.

"you're so rude! i'm gonna tell kafka!"

you push yourself against him in a weak attempt to tackle him. he only carries you, hands under your armpits as you struggle in his hold.

"you're a little snitch, you know that?" he holds you like a baby this time as you're still kicking your legs and trying to squirm out of his grip to get a chance to get to kafka.

"because you're a big meanie! a big butthead!"

"yeah, yeah."

[rule 2; don't go in kafka's room]

there wasn't really anything incriminating in there. she just didn't like people invading her space and it was normal. but there's always those little exceptions.

"auntie!" you knock on her door, almost a little too loudly. she does open the door, not really fazed since she knows your loud knocks from anywhere.

"what is it, dear?" she's tiredly picking you up, it's clear that she's had a long day but by aeons, she wasn't gonna let that stop her from caring for you.

"can i sleep with you tonight.." you're a little bit embarrassed. you usually stay with silver wolf as her late night working sessions usually help you fall asleep but you haven't seen kafka in the past few days.

"of course you can. i would never say no." her hand pats against your back, comforting you and starting to lull you into a sleep. she lets you rest your head on her shoulder, humming, "i'll be doing a little bit before we lay down. just sleep, baby."

"i like your room, auntie.. i like being with you." you mumbled tiredly. you rest against her as she sits down at her desk, still holding you.

"i like being with you too."

[rule 3; let silverwolf focus when she's playing her games]

something about children and always wondering what games you got on your phone always has silverwolf reeling away from you when she goes to play her games. it took her longest to get used to your bright presence. honestly, children were not really any of their forte. you were an unexpected (yet expected) part of the crew even if you didn't do much (yet).

she usually kept herself away but today was different. she offered to play with you. as it was almost out of character of her, you immediately accepted. and you played a two player co-op game. she was more focused than you were but you didn't mind.

you weren't doing well in the game as your character died multiple times during this boss battle (that was set to medium for you but co-op gave it more health and different battle patterns). you watched as silverwolf tried her best to pull through.

"you can do it!" you had said in the heat of the moment, but her finger slipped and you both lost. "i'm sorry!"

she's a little bit frustrated being so close to the end but she lets out a tired sigh. "it's okay."

[cotl-flower-crown]

Going on hiatus*

*Well, kinda.

Hey, I'm gonna start this post with "omg, this blog has more than 2 followers, what the fuck?? That's crazy!". I don't usually look at numbers, because I don't want it to be a focus on my platforms, but just know that I appreciate every single one of you and I hope that you all enjoy what I'm doing here. Like at the moment of writing this there is 2277 people that decided they want to look at my art more and it makes me very happy, thank you! ^^

So uhh yeah, hiatus.

Not gonna lie, the past few months has been stressful for me and I have reached the point where my chest and stomach are in pain and I can't get enough sleep because of it, among other things (damn you mosquitoes!!!). It's something that happened before and it might take me months to recover from it. So I suppose you could say that this hiatus is mainly for the health reasons.

Though it's also because my gut is telling me that it's time to move on from this fandom to do other things.

Hear me out. It's not that I hate COTL now, far from it, I still love this silly cult game and I will follow what MM has to offer for this game in the future. I am just kinda not keeping up with myself when it comes to posting. I've been trying to post about my favs at least once a week, but honestly it's been a struggle to pump out anything at all lately. It's not that I don't have anything to post, I'm just tired and burned out.

So yeah, I think it's time to put this blog on hiatus for the time being. What I mean by that is I don't want this blog to be the top of my priorities and I want to take it easy.

I don't want it to go completely silent though. I'm planning to open my ask box again, because I miss interacting with everyone. However I will not do any art requests or draw anything for the asks in general. If I do, it will most likely be poorly drawn or it will be something related to character design, since that's what I'm most comfortable with, but I would prefer not have to draw at all. Though I am open for writing. I also wish to draw sometimes, so maybe I will post some artwork when I feel like it. I'm just not gonna post as often as I used to. It might take like a month (maybe two, maybe three, etc) before I decide to make anything.

What's the future of this blog? I am not sure yet. There is a chance that eventually I will abandon this blog entirely OR I could repurpose it for fanart in general. To be honest I'm leaning towards the second option at the moment, but that is a future me's problem.

I think that's all I've got to say right now. Again Thank You everyone who decided to follow, reblog and like my art and leave comments, I appreciate it all, and thank you to my moots and friends that I made along the way, I love you all (plat/non parasocial) and I hope this will work out.

TLDR: I'm going on hiatus, but not completely silent, also ask box open, but no requests

[pannman]

Yandere Vox X food Delivery trans masc walker reader

I'm guessing by "walker" you mean reader walks to deliver food. If not I apologize

Other Motives

Yandere Vox x trans masc food deliverer

Tw: yandere behavior, manipulation, mind control, violence, mild swearing

You didn't mind walking. Although it did present occasional dangers. You normally liked the physical activity and you liked the scenery. On the nicer parts of town of course

But one day you got a job to deliver to a not so nice part of town. Your employer could care less that you didn't have a vehicle and you needed this job to pay for your testosterone and to save up for your top and bottom surgery. So you grabbed some mace and decided to jog there

You're crappy shoes didn't make the jog very pleasant but you would rather not slow down in this area of town. Unfortunately your feet had other plans

You fell to the ground when your foot cramped up bad. You clenched your arch and grimaced. And you were practically pleading for the pain to go away so you could get away from this alley you had stopped in front of

Footsteps pulled your attention away and you saw three large sinners beginning to surround you

You silently and discreetly reached for your mace

"Well, well, well. Lookee what we have here. You're on our turf buddy" the biggest one said threateningly

"I'm sorry. I was just passing through. I'll leave immediately" you tried to talk your way out of the situation

"Nope. Nobody just walks right into our turf without a punishment. We're gonna teach you a lesson!!!" The man grabbed you by the collar and that's when sprayed him directly in the eyes

He screamed and clutched his face in pain but his buddies were quick to take over. One them kicked you in the gut and you fell over. Then the other kicked the mace out of your hand

"You're gonna pay for that asshole!" The biggest shouted still covering one of his eyes

"Gentlemen, gentlemen." A voice came from behind

"I'm sure this won't be necessary" he continued.

You turned and looked with the thugs about to beat you to a pulp to see a tall man in a blue suit with a bow tie and..... a TV for a head? Is that Vox? You wondered. He was one of the vees and possibly the richest most influential sinner in hell and a powerful overlord

"Vox?!?" One of the guys exclaimed

"Yes. And I do think it's rude for you to beat up one of my workers" he muttered while straightening his bow tie. He seemed so uninterested or was it his way of showing them he doesn't see them as a threat?

Though you were definitely NOT his worker you figured it out and played along

"Boss! I was bringing you your lunch when these guys attacked me!" You shifted the focus onto them and as you looked at them they had terror in their eyes

"S-sorry we-we didn't know he worked for you. We'll leave" they didn't wait for him to respond but immediately took off like cowards

You struggled to stand up until a hand outstretched to help you

You took Vox's hand and thanked him

Although you were curious why he helped you...

"You know you should get those injuries checked. If you come by the studio I can have someone take a look at that for you" he offered

"No thanks" you declined. "If I'm late for this delivery I won't have a job to come back to"

Vox had look in his eyes as if he was about say something but changed his mind

"Well I can have one of my drones deliver it for you and you don't have to tell a soul" he winked. He was being suspiciously nice

You knew most overlords were not the nicest people and you weren't sure it would be a good idea to trust him

"You wouldn't want to have run into any more trouble would you?" He smiled kind of deviously

He did have a point

Stay out here and risk getting attacked again or go with the guy who just saved you

Against your better judgment (or maybe it was cause you were tired, injured, and slightly terrified), you agreed to let him handle the delivery and go with him

Back at the studio, someone looked you over and patched you up. You relaxed. No longer feeling like you were in danger

"So why walk all the way through that neighborhood?" Vox asked as he shooed away his assistant leaving the two of you alone in his office

"I don't have a car" you responded

"And your boss was ok with that?" He questioned. His fingers tapping the desk in a rhythmic drum

"My boss doesn't care as long as he gets his money at the end of the day" you replied rather bluntly

"Well why don't you quit? Surely no job is worth risking your life?" He acted like that was reasonable and to be fair it was

You didn't know why but you decided to trust him with knowing more about your identity than most people

"I need the money for hormone therapy and surgery. I'm trans" you admitted in relief to finally tell someone. Though anxiety immediately followed

"Wow! I couldn't even tell. You pass very well" he said with last part almost sounding flirtatious but you figured you were just overthinking

"Thanks" you smiled at him. He seemed so nice. You didn't know if it was from exhaustion or if it was real but you felt yourself trusting him more and more in his presence

"You know," he said approaching you before sitting down next to you on the couch. "You could come work for me. I'll pay you better. Provide you with a vehicle and you will be much safer. There might even be some opportunity for advancement"

It all sounded too good to be true. Which you knew usually meant that it was. You were hesitant. "I'm... I'm not sure"

Suddenly when you looked in his eyes you thought for moment you saw them change. Then you started to relax and you started to question yourself. Why did you think he would trick you? He saved you! He's been nothing but nice

You felt your worries melt away as you continued to look in his eyes and you heard his voice. "You know this is what you want. Don't you wanna come work for me?" His voice feeling like it was merging with your thoughts

And this time you answered without hesitation

"Yes"

Let me know if you want part 2

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

Hey so... I've been having some trouble with my younger sister, and I could use some advice. Basically, she's been kinda... inconsiderate lately. Meaning, she doesn't really clean up after herself, pretty much ever. It's my mom, me (20), my sister (17), and our four younger siblings who range from 6-14. My mom only recently got divorced from my abusive dad, and is trying really hard as a single mom to 6 kids right now, since she struggles with ptsd, depression, and being physically disabled on top of everything.

And my sister, just... I don't know. I really don't want to put it harshly but she's just been really inconsiderate. She cooks meals for herself (which is obviously fine) but she almost always leaves a massive mess behind that she doesn't clean up, in a household with *four* young teens/children. And not in a "she didnt wash all the dishes she used", in a "doesnt throw away wrappers and doesnt bring dirty dishes to the sink, and leaves spilled food on the counter" way. Among similar instances/issues.

Both my mom and I have tried talking to her about this- I know she struggles a ton with depression and trauma from my dad among other things. She told me that she's just making space for herself, that she *has* to only focus on herself because she's so busy and tired all the time and she's barely keeping her head above water, so she just doesn't have energy to clean. And I *get* it. I'm not dismissing those things at all, I know it can be a bitch to have to clean when you're going through shit. I tried giving her some advice (being: asses your energy before cooking something, and if you won't have enough energy after cooking to clean, find something that makes less of a mess/no mess and compromise) but she really took offense to it.

Idk, I know she's a good kid. I've *seen* how amazing and talented and kind she is. But this issue has just been building and my mom and I have been super lenient with her, only giving gentle reminders amd lowkey walking on eggshells around her, but I keep wondering where the line crosses from "focusing on myself" to just disregarding the people you live with entirely.

I guess the main point I'm getting at is: I'm super sympathetic to her situation, so I don't want to blame her or get mad at her, but I also can't ignore how frustrating it can get having to clean up very large messes made by a near-adult when *everyone* is struggling, and the behaviour has not been changing despite several gentle conversations.

You and your mom need to sit her down and have a serious talk about how she's not the only one who is mentally ill and disabled, and that her messing up the kitchen to cook only for herself and then expecting you to clean up isn't sustainable. Not because you don't believe that she struggles to do it, but because everyone in the household does. Meaning that there has to be some degree of mindfulness in how big a mess you leave if you can't clean it.

[mayamail]

inconsistent rambling about my life

I don't know what's been happening to me lately but despite all that I'm struggling with and all that I have to complain about, I haven't been as happy as I am now in. forever maybe? since I was very very small? most days it feels like I've woken up from a 10-year coma and I'm just now remembering what it's like to be a person. and I had moments like those in the past year especially, but since march my life has been really beautiful. I find myself appreciating everything much more than I have been. and I can do things now that I haven't been able to, I can sit down with a book and finish it in a day, which doesn't sound like a great accomplishment, but to someone who's been living outside of themselves to the point where they had almost no imagination left in them at all, it's something. I think we lose our focus when we lose our imaginations- if we can't bring ourselves to care about the tiniest details, then we can't focus on them, either. and a damaged imagination is a wound that needs healing as much as a burn or cut or bruise. it needs to be nurtured.

subconsciously I've been counting the things that matter to me, what I appreciate and am grateful for, just about every day now. and sometimes it's a great sum of things (I can do the dishes and count ten, twenty things I care about just then; running water, glass, dish soap, sunlight, the window, the curtains by the window, ceramic and porcelain) and sometimes it's just a few, but it's never nothing. there's so much to be thankful for. I finally kind of understand the fear of death and of time- there's so many lives I want to live, and I'll never be able to be everything, but I have to try (lily posts about this a lot- he's been offline more recently but I think about her dearly almost every day). I mourn a lot of my wasted time, even though I know it was all important. I never would've felt the joy of coming back to myself if I hadn't left in the first place. all these things, sorrow and anger and teenage angst, are necessary to feel, I think I had to want to kill myself a little to be thankful that I never did. that I could always find something to live for, even if it was something very small or very silly (for most of my life it's been movies). and these days I find myself in love with everyone, and everything, and I have a hard time containing my emotions because I was never really taught how to do that and so I wear my heart on my sleeve wherever I go. and I guess that used to be a dangerous thing because that goodwill and honesty has been taken advantage of, and I have rejected it in turn to protect myself (even without trauma, I think this behavior is implicit in teenagerism; a desire to be inauthentic, to hide yourself behind anger and violence in pursuit of the catharsis of "cool")

but, anyway, I'm in a place now where the people I love and admire most are people who also feel the same excitement about these silly things, who also express love for everything, and who accept me as I am, and who I strive to accept in return.

and, well, anyway, I'm tired by the end of every day now because I do so much, and I've always done a lot, I think, but now I'm less detached from reality and so I have to feel the weight of these things, and it makes me tired, but it's good tired. I like the feeling of having done something; sewing or cooking or writing or reading. I like the signs of wear on my body- and aging. I don't think I've ever been more excited to age. I'm not so frustrated at anything anymore. and it's not like I'll never spiral or feel angry or upset or sad again, I guarantee you by the end of the day I'll have cried once (I'm a crier and I get overemotional about everything) and I'll have complained ten times, I don't hold myself to some unattainable standard of moral purity where I never feel anything bad and am always gracious and kind, because that's not how people work. I deserve to feel bad, but I don't want that to be all I feel. I've made mistakes and hurt others but I would be doing myself and my loved ones a great disservice if I never moved on from that. I'm not a saint, is what I'm saying, no matter how much I'd like to be. I'm just some blogger on tumblr who feels things (very unoriginal, I know)

well, anyway, the point of all this was to get some of the things I've been feeling recently on paper, and maybe to express to some or all members of the audience that I care about them. I care about everything a great deal (and it's terrible for me haha. THE STRESS!!) and I've been having a lot of confusing feelings lately but that's not necessarily a bad thing, I think. I've been talking to one of my friends about some of these confusing feelings because I don't know what to do with them, or more like, I don't know where to put them, writing hasn't been quite enough recently and that's all I have when I feel love that's too big for my body, and she says it's not love so much as it is affection, but aren't those the same thing? maybe it's just altruism. or autism. it's probably autism.

I'm not good at speaking in person; if I ever meet any of you in real life, I'm sorry for subjecting you to that lol. I stutter and talk too fast and stumble over my words and am completely monotone or extremely overexcited, no in-between, and sometimes I say nothing at all and I only make sense 9% of the time, and only when I'm saying single sentences. so therapy isn't really amazingly helpful for me. it's better to write these things down and then not edit them because I quite like my free flowing thought. here is a glimpse into my beautiful mind

[theamethystvampiress]

TW: I mention the topic of mental health and suicide.

I don't know how to say this, but here it goes:

On Christmas Eve, Joseph Mawle posted his second post since October, shortly before the end of the second season of Rings of Power.

In the post, he shared how hopeful and happy he is, and he mentioned how, this time last year, he didn't know if he even wanted to be here, but that now he does and he feels better.

I am really happy for him, as I remember how he said in late summer he was taking a break from social media and acting temporarily, so that he could focus on his mental health with professional help.

There was a long time where we neither heard nor saw Joseph.

Him posting, as well as sharing that he was struggling with mental health, but that he is feeling better now and much happier, is an incredible honor that he even shared it with us in the first place.

However, I did notice that there were some negative responses to this.

I actually saw someone who, whether they realize it or not, was stigmatizing him for it, by acting like he shouldn't have said that or posted that, and they didn't like him mentioning the quote: "self harm" bits.

Let me be honest with you:

Acting like someone is weird or shocking for detailing their mental health struggles on THEIR POST is a low and pathetic blow. It is dangerous to act affronted or disgusted with someone who was struggling or got help.

This is unacceptable for the same reason the jokes and ridicule were when Chappell Roan sought treatment for mental health.

It's Joseph Mawle's Instagram, and if feels like he needs to say something about it, that's HIS BUSINESS, not yours to decide to stigmatize him for it.

Also, to anyone on here that thinks they're so enlightened, half your media and content you consume depicts stuff you need trigger warnings for.

Let's not forget that a vast majority of content in this place has mentions of suicide or unaliving.

I especially found it disturbing that someone from the ROP fandom acted weird about his latest IG post, especially since nobody had a problem with season 2 ROP interview where it was mentioned that Adar didn't want to live anymore, he was living for the Uruks.

I am tired of people stigmatizing and bullying Joseph.

It all started with that stupid idiot from the Fellowship of Fans, who pretended like he knew everything, and LIED about some stupid rumor that Joe stayed in character when he did not. (Jed Brophy and his son, Sadowyn defended Joseph, and said this wasn't true.)

Fellowship of Fans was ALWAYS flawed and just a useless gossip source, remember when they said Bridie Sissoon was Sauron?!

Anyway, basically, I'm just fed up with the double standards: It's okay to consume media about mental health struggles and people's problems, it's just not okay for the amazing talented people who entertain on the daily to have struggles.

I really care about Joseph Mawle, and I just don't want people stigmatizing or bullying him.

I feel like some people just like to poke fun and bully him.

Be nice.

[nooblet-sims]

Describe yourself ONLY with pictures you have, you CANNOT search or download new pictures.

I was tagged by @imeepysims - thank you!! I LOVE a good tag game. Luckily I always have plenty of stuff random saved.

Reasoning behind image choices

I've always been super introverted and spent a lot of time on the computer. This has not changed at all in my life lol

I'm Australian, I feel like idk is this a defining characteristic? I also really hate when my American friends pick on how I say no so LOL cool one to include

I mean its literally what I bring to the table idk what to tell you.

WELL I am a millennial with mental health issues and self deprecation humor lmfao

same as 4 but it cracked me up. Ya girl been struggling lately

I really enjoy naps

Early bed time lifeeeee!

So I do really love tamagotchis but this one is just very me. I really don't think mentally I was designed for life?? Like I struggle working 3 days a week, it tires me out, I just want to do creative things, laze around, focus on my fun lil hobbies

I do this all the time lmfao. Idk if its a coping mechanism or if I just have issues but as soon as things start stressing me out I procrastinate them and then hyper focus to get it all done. But literally moment things start going wrong I'm like texting THE WORLD IS ENDING, PLZ and just you know making a list on tumblr while ignoring the meeting I'm in

Last one kind of represents my friends and family?? I'm always the horrified DM in this situation lmfao. They always be out here doing things that just has me SHOOK, but mildly curious lmfao. I guess it could also represent my need to control everything and have it go completely off plan 99% of the time as I watch on in horror but that seems a little too on point.

As usual since I can never chose who to tag I tag people in my notifications :P The temptation to tag some random person who literally just liked one of my posts ever is real.. And anyone else who wants to do this!

@lilleputtu @silverspringsimmer @depictingdrew @deathpoke1qa @dandylion240 @igglemouse @simsbyyelhsa @sweetpyxels @nitrozem (feel free to ignore, it won't hurt my feelings lol)

[ramyaknox]

I haven't been sure what to write for a post about autism acceptance month but I wonder if in a way my thoughts about what to write are a good reflection of my experience being autistic and so this post is about that. Note: it's really long! (but hopefully worth it)

I have read before that being autistic is full of contradictions and these past few years I've begun to understand that a lot more I think. Being autistic is often frustrating and tiring and overwhelming but it's also everything I've ever known, it's connecting with other autistic people in a way that feels like magic, it's crying with joy at my favourite songs and stimming at a starling murmuration.

I don't want my autism to be “cured”. I have no idea what it would be like to be neurotypical. It's sort of like understanding how big the sun is ; I can read the number but I still can't really imagine it. I know on paper that I have a different perspective to neurotypical people but I have no way of knowing what I'd be like if I wasn't autistic. I wouldn't be myself anymore.

My first draft of a post for this month was angry. I'd had a meltdown partly due to people using language around autism that upset me, ranging from the R word to “autism, the ultimate superpower!”. Again a contradiction, words that put us down and words that raise us to unrealistic expectations can both be harmful. I still don't understand why anyone chooses to use the R word and with regards to the second thing there are a lot of “superpowers” that don't involve crying when you leave the house because it's too loud so even if I let superpower slide “ultimate” is definitely wrong.

That post draft was full of my difficult experiences from being autistic, to illustrate how hard it is and why it's not a superpower. Meltdowns over things that don't make sense to other people, burnout and exhaustion, the effort of trying to explain myself when I need help. I wrote “I'm sick of putting up with being uncomfortable because I don't want to make others uncomfortable”

Sometimes I want to force people to see the difficult things this month instead of a lineup of “did you know this celebrity is autistic?”

The thing is though, this month is for autistic people too. If this month was just about educating allistics maybe I'd get angry and show all the things I struggle with that they probably don't think about but to emphasise those things the most paints a perspective of being autistic as something bad, as something to pity and I don't want that either. Particularly not for newly diagnosed autistics.

I think there's somewhat of a pressure to be an inspiration to other autistics, particularly younger ones. It's definitely something I've always aspired to do but as addie finds in series 2 of A Kind of Spark, being an inspiration isn't always easy.

Despite this, I know the importance of good autistic rep. It means everything to me to be able to read autistic characters that I actually relate to, to see autistic people in the career I want to have and lately I've even found music by autistic artists about being autistic that I enjoy listening to.

If I only focus on the difficulties that come with being autistic, other autistic people might not get to see all the amazing things that are open to them and I don't want that either.

There's an extract from keedie that always makes me emotional where she tells addie what it's like to be autistic that features this idea :

“Sometimes at night, I think about all of us. Every autistic person, the millions who came before the name was found in the twentieth century. I think of cavemen and women who were fascinated by a spark instead of gossip. I think of the early humans who chose order over chaos. I think of the ones who found that sitting in the shade with their family was enough. That life perhaps did not need to be more complicated. I think of the poets and artists and musicians, whose genius was perhaps off-putting to classmates but so remarkable on a page, canvas or stage. I think of the millions of people who just were. Who did not need lofty accomplishments to justify their existence. Who were there because they were always meant to be, made that way because they were always meant to exist exactly as they were. The map makers, the codebreakers and the ones who kept compasses in their heads. I think of the soldiers who felt the blasts more powerfully than others but who knew they could push ahead because they've know war and getting back up again since they were born-it was only a little more noise and chaos in a world full of noise and chaos.

I think of the mathematicians, the troubled souls, the people who just got on with it because the world would rather punish your difference than accommodate it. I think of actors who put on the greatest performance of their lives every time they begrudgingly wear the mask

I feel the breath of a million past lives in my lungs and I know in that moment, she will never learn fear or shame from me” - Elle Mcnicoll, Keedie

I think really the best rep people can show me is of autistic people who are happy.

In conclusion, the best thing I can think to do is to talk about these contradictions, to talk about the good things and the hard things.

Sometimes I can be so focused on a project that I'm amazingly productive and I love creating things that I've imagined or the way my brain feels when I'm analysing data. Other times I go outside and cry because everything is too loud and smells. Sometimes I can talk for hours about my special interest with a friend until I'm out of breath. Other days I'm so tired I can't make a facial expression without a lot of effort. Sometimes it's so difficult to put my thoughts into words, other times I feel like the words are rushing out of me exactly as I want them to and it's amazing.

This autism acceptance month I want to try to accept myself and these contradictions more. I am often afraid of my future but I'm often hopeful for it too and that's the contradiction I want to end on.

Every autistic person is different and this post can only really reflect my experience but I'm glad I finally feel able to make a post that does.

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one and I have the series planned to the end, so don't be surprised if I get the rest of these out relatively quickly. I'm excited to take you on the roller coaster that is the end of this one. But I think you'll love how it ends! Just hang in there!

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, implied sex, alcohol use, angst

Word count: ~2.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Vivian spends the next year in abject misery. She moves to California in an attempt to get away from anything that reminds her of Elvis and try to jumpstart her acting career. That doesn't cure her lovesickness though. She misses Elvis desperately, kicking herself for wasting all that time telling him no. But then she realizes that even if they were together, he probably would've left her for Ann Margaret. The few times she does see him, it's obvious that he's smitten. This is the most in love she's ever seen him and she desperately wants to be happy for him. But she just can't. She runs through several guys before realizing that she's tired of the emptiness. She takes a vow of celibacy and tries to focus on her career and her hobbies. Writing poetry helps a little, but most of it is about Elvis so she ends up crumpling it and throwing it in a trash can or a fire. Just when she runs out of money and is about to go back to her stepfather in Germany, she stumbles upon modeling and finds herself more successful at that than acting. She throws herself into it, trying to ignore her pain. All in all, there doesn't seem to be a reason to go on, but she keeps trudging along, hoping something will change eventually.

******

Elvis spends the next year in a lovestruck bubble of happiness. Ann Margaret challenges him and enlivens him and brings out the best in him. She's everything he never knew he wanted. He knows he still has Priscilla at Graceland, and at night, after Ann has fallen asleep, he feels the guilt of leaving her behind. The promise to marry her still hangs over his head.

But in the really late hours on nights that he struggles to sleep at all, he thinks about Vivian. Where is she? What is she doing? Does she ever think about him? He knows how unfair it is to even have that thought, but it's there nonetheless. A couple of times his mind even drifts to the conversation they started and didn't finish. How might things be different if they had finished it? Would he have said no to Ann if he knew he had Viv? That's a question he can't answer.

Overall, he's happy. He's having his cake and eating it too.

And then Ann Margaret does an interview where she tells the reporter that she and Elvis have plans to get married. He knows this isn't possible, no matter how much he loves her. He has an agreement with Priscilla's family to marry her. And beyond that, he's not even sure that Ann would be the best choice for his wife. At the end of the day, she's too much like Vivian, too independent and headstrong. Too focused on her own career. That doesn't mean he wants to end things with Ann Margaret necessarily, but Priscilla doesn't give him an option. She wants the contract honored, and soon.

So Elvis ends the affair with Ann Margaret shortly after his conversation with Priscilla. He knows he's done the right thing, but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt. He sinks into a deep depression, refusing to leave his house or see anyone, including Priscilla. After a week, his Memphis mafia guys start to get really concerned. They're not sure what to do to bring him out of this funk.

Finally, one of them comes up with the idea of calling Vivian. They know he hasn't seen her in months, but she's managed his low moods before with grace and strong but subtle encouragement that eventually brought him back. She's their last hope, a desperate grasping at a final straw. They call her, hoping she'll agree to come.

******

Vivian find herself on the porch of Graceland with a grocery bag in one arm, knocking loudly with her other hand. She's not quite sure what she's doing here, why she agreed to come, but here she is. Turns out her heart can't tell him no, no matter what he's put her through.

She knocks again. She's been standing out here for almost fifteen minutes and the bag is starting to get heavy. The bottles clink together as she shifts.

"Elvis! It's me!" She breaks down and hollers through the window, hoping he will hear her. Finally, she hears movement inside the dark house. After a few more minutes the door opens just a crack.

"What are you doing here, Viv?"

"The guys called me. So I'm here. With presents." She jiggles the bag in her arms and the bottles clink again.

"I don't drink, Viv."

"Yeah? What have you got to lose?" She hears him sigh deeply and then he opens the door. He's disheveled in a way she can barely comprehend. His hair is everywhere and he clearly hasn't shaved recently. He has on a robe with no shirt underneath and pajama pants.

"Oh, Elvis."

"Don't fucking say anything." She walks through the door and sets the bag down, turning to face him. Then, she cups his cheek with her hand gently.

"Does it hurt this badly?" He breaks down and grabs her tightly, weeping on her shoulder. He whispers into her hair.

"I made such a mess, Viv." She wraps him in her arms and squeezes him tightly.

"I know, honey. But it's gonna be okay." He backs off of her and wipes his nose with his sleeve like a child.

"What are you here for?" She smiles gently.

"Well, first I'm here to clean you up and help you feel like yourself. And then we're gonna drink. Because you need a little fun." He nods and takes the hand she offers him. She leads him up the stairs to the bathroom where she starts the shower. She turns and heads towards the door, but he grabs her elbow softly.

"Please stay."

"You want me to stay in here?"

"Please." She nods and sits on the lid of the toilet, turning away as he undresses and steps into the shower. He showers and then she hears the water turn off.

"Viv, honey, can you hand me a clean towel?"

"Of course!" She grabs a luxurious black towel and hands it to him. When he steps out of the shower, he has it wrapped around his waist, his hair fluffy and wet, water droplets glistening on his shoulders. Her mouth drops a little at how sexy he looks in this vulnerable state. It takes everything in her power not to rip the towel off and take him into the bedroom and...

******

"Viv?"

"Yes! What?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." He smiles a little, enjoying the impact he's having on her. "You want me to blow dry your hair?"

"Yes." A relieved smile crosses his face and she seats him in the chair. As she dries it, he gives her instructions on how to do it, sounding more like himself. Next, she grabs the razor and shave soap.

"Whoa, hang on. Do you know what you're doing?" He asks, nervous.

"My stepdad broke his hand once when I was in high school. I can do this." He nods.

"Okay. I trust you." He leans his head back and she goes to work lathering up his face. She drags the razor gently over his skin, removing the hair. She's careful and meticulous and he revels in the feeling of being cared for so attentively.

Maybe she would be a good wife.

Once she finishes shaving him, he puts on a pair of fresh pajamas. Then, he tosses a pair at her.

"Get comfortable. Please."

"These are going to look ridiculous on me."

"Good." He smiles and she goes in the bathroom to change. He's thoroughly enjoying her company. He didn't realize how much he had missed her, but now she's here and his affection for her washes over him like a tidal wave. She comes out of the bathroom and sure enough, she looks silly in his giant pajamas. But something about seeing her in them makes him want to rip them off of her.

"Elvis."

"Yeah?"

"You're staring at me." He laughs for the first time in a week and gestures for her to follow him. On the way down to the tv room, he grabs the grocery bag from the foyer. It's true that he doesn't drink. But tonight? Tonight feels like a good night to break his rule.

Once they're settled on the couch in the tv room with a movie set up on the projector, he pulls the bottles out of the bag. She's got a bottle of vodka, a bottle of soda water, and a bottle of peach schnapps.

"Which one of these is for me?" He asks curiously. She laughs.

"I know you're a little bitch about alcohol, so I got you something that tastes good. The vodka is for me." He nods, smiling, and she goes to the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses. She makes them both drinks and they relax to watch the movie.

Two drinks later, Elvis is already pretty tipsy, laughing openly with his arm wrapped around her. Vivian does a couple of shots to try to catch up with him.

"Hey! I want one of those."

"No, Elvis, you really don't, baby." He snickers.

"You called me baby."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, I like it, honey. More pet names. Call me more pet names." She giggles, the shots finally starting to kick in.

"Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Lover boy." He laughs at the last one.

"You can't call me lover boy without being my lover, babydoll."

"Babydoll?!"

"You don't like it?" She makes another drink for each of them and Elvis throws his back quickly.

"Elvis! Slow down! I can't keep up."

"Come on, doll face, now who's being a little bitch?"

"Well, I definitely don't like little bitch." Elvis erupts in his big-joy laugh, leaning over to rest his head on her knee while he does. She finishes her drink and makes another for each of them.

"Which one do you like best, sweetheart?" He asks, swirling his drink in his glass.

"I'm not sure, babe. Which one do you like best?" She answers, taking a sip. He takes another long drink and then turns to look at her, his eyelids heavy.

"I like this, darlin'."

"The alcohol?"

"No- well, yes- but I like being here with you." All of a sudden he gets really serious. The memory of the conversation that didn't happen comes screaming back to him. He drains his glass and then sets it on the coffee table.

"What?" She looks at him inquisitively, her eyes glazed over with drunkenness.

"You 'member that conversation we were s'posed to have. 'Fore I left?" She finishes her drink and nods.

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinkin' 'bout it, that's all." His southern accent comes out so much stronger when he's been drinking and it makes Viv giggle.

"What?" He asks, a wide smile on his face.

"You just sound like a good ole country boy right now." She mimics his accent and he laughs loudly again.

"I am a good ole country boy." She's lying back against the corner of the couch, so he crawls up between her legs and she puts her hands on his cheeks.

"I know. I like it." She kisses the end of his nose. Her deep-ocean eyes look into his intensely. "I love it."

She leans in slowly, pressing her lips to his. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead into hers as he hovers above her.

"Viv." He whispers. Then he backs away, his eyes flicking between hers and then down to her pretty mouth. He leans in slowly, lips parted, capturing hers in a sensuous kiss. His tongue grazes hers so gently, as if asking for permission.

Then he dives in fully, never looking back.

******

When Elvis finally starts to wake up, he crinkles his nose and whimpers. The headache is already beginning behind his eyes and he's so thirsty he feels like he might die if he doesn't get some water soon. He feels movement on his chest and opens his eyes to a head full of dark hair. That's when he remembers: Vivian. His mind races as he tries to think through what might've happened last night. He kissed her, but that's the only thing his foggy brain can grab onto. His heart skips a beat as a thought crosses his mind and he lifts the covers a little to try to assess the situation.

They're both naked. He swallows deeply and looks up at the ceiling. Oh shit...

He feels her shift a little on his chest, her breasts pressing up against the side of his body. She groans and stretches and he knows he has to say something.

"Umm... Viv?"

"Yeah?" She groans again, obviously feeling the effects of her drinks last night.

"Are you wearing... anything?" Her eyes pop open and she sits up suddenly. When she realizes that this means he can see her chest, she lays back down quickly and starts to slink away from him under the covers.

"Oh, God. Oh no." She whines. He grabs her and pulls her back onto his chest.

"No. Don't leave."

"Elvis, I... we-"

"I know. But I don't want you to leave. Not yet." She relaxes a little against him.

"Do you remember anything?" He tries to force his mind to focus on last night. All he sees are flashes, him running his hand up her leg, the sounds she made when she climaxed, one moment of looking into her eyes while she was on top of him, his hand on her cheek.

"Just flashes. You?"

"No, just flashes for me too."

"I remember it being really good, though." She whispers her response.

"Me too..."

They lay together in silence for a while, Elvis's mind going crazy wondering what she's thinking. He goes back to the conversation that never happened. Does she love him? Could this actually work?

"Vivian, you know, we could finish our conversation now." She sits up and looks into his face, hers painted with a look of anguish.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the same reason you can't be with Ann Margaret is the same reason you can't be with me."

"Priscilla."

"Yes." He puts his hand on his forehead.

"Goddamnit. Man, I really screwed myself, didn't I?" She sighs deeply.

"Elvis, you told me once that she makes sense to you. Is that still true?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then there's your answer. I don't make sense to anyone. You should marry her." His heart breaks for Viv. He wants to tell her that it doesn't matter, that she does make sense to him, that even if she didn't he would love her. But he doesn't. He knows what the right thing to do is.

So he loosens his grip on her and she gets out of the bed. She finds her clothes from where she left them to change into his pajamas last night. He lays in the bed as she dresses, trying to keep himself from crying. Losing Ann Margaret was bad, but this is pure torture.

When she's fully put back together, she stands in the doorway just looking at him and he notices that she's crying and has been the whole time.

"Vivian..." He says it softly. Then, he gets out of bed and grabs a robe from a chair, wrapping it around himself. He walks to where she's standing and she collapses into his chest, sobbing. He holds her in his arms and kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

She nods into him and then pulls back, wiping her face. He tries to catch her eyes but she won't look up at him. Without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs, and through the front door, leaving him standing in the doorway. When he hears the front door latch, he falls to his knees and sobs.

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

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