#I hope this makes sense I am sick today so brain is no

[braxiatel]

Goodtimeswithscar is a sexyman and I will prove it to you

If you are still on the fence I encourage you to look at the sexypedia - a wikipedia dedicated to tumblr sexymen - and checking out their tropes page. Scar meets 35/62 on a list where recent winner of the tumblr sexyman poll Cecil Palmer of WTNW fame only has 8 listed on his character page!

35!

Scar is Textbook, and if you need proof I have gone through all the tropes and explained why they apply to him!

VOTE SCAR!

4th Wall Blurring: This one is arguable due to the nature of the medium but I’ll include it

Animal Theming: See: animal hybrid headcanons and designs. Cat Scar, panda Scar, hyena Scar, avian Scar - they’re everywhere!

Angst: That cactus ring… magic mountain. need I say more? This boy has angst. 

Bait: *gestures at the shirtless skins*

Capitalist: she sells sea shells on the sea shore but the value of these shells will fall due to the laws of supply and demand no one wants to buy shells cause there’s loads on the sand step one you must create a sense of scarcity 

Chaoslord: HotGuy! [snipes you for no good reason]

Criminal: shells will sell much better if the people think they’re rare you see bear with me take as many shells as you can find and hide them on an island stockpile them high until they’re rarer than the price of diamond

Con Artist: step two gotta make the people think that they want them really fucking want them hit ‘em like Bronson influencers product placement if you haven’t got a shell then you’re just a fucking waste man

Dealmaker: three it’s monopoly invest inside some property start a corporation make a logo do it properly shells must sell that will be your new philosophy swallow all your morals they’re a poor man’s quality

Distinctive Voice: I do not need to make any arguments here. Have you heard him???

Quotable Catchphrase(s): well hello there, scarred for life, “a-ma-zing”, etc.

Distinctive Laugh: I think I autism stole Scar’s laughter (whoops) so I’m giving him this one too, but also that gigle is just very good and we all know it, right?

Dominating: from the trope description: “Characters who assert their power over others. Could be through manipulation, magic, smugness, or force of personality.” Yes. 

Duality: Convex did not put their whole entire vexussies into that possession storyline for us to forget about it. 

Egotistical: This one is arguable and a question of characterisation, but I think that we can all agree that on some levels, yes. 

Eldritch: From the trope description: “Since the typical sexyman is a tall mostly human looking pale twink, in a vast majority of the cases the eldritch is a heavy implication lying just under the surface.” Hello? Vex Scar?? 

Gay: See subsection: 

LGBTQ+ Coded: That cactus ring. Mumbo “eye candy” Jumbo. The season 7 mayoral race. Concorp. His jolly rancher arc. This man has so many boyfriends. 

Girlboss: listen I think a lot of characters who aren’t traditional girlbosses get called so, but with Scar I think it’s accurate okay. Did Scar utilize girl power effectively when he and Cub were blatant war profetiers during the season 6 civil war? yes. Absolutely. Girlboss. 

Glowing Neon: vex blue anyone?

Hot-headed: Don’t let his calm exterior fool you. Remember. Scar when someone steals his horse: *sets their whole entire house on fire*. 

Intelligence: yes but also see subsection

Smartdumb: Okay listen. Scar is Smart. Scar is very smart. And I specifically have to make sure you know I am talking character only here because cc!Scar seems to me to be a Very intelligent person with a wide field of knowledge. But uhm. c!Scar dies so much and so often in ways that are completely unavoidable. He does silly things without thinking of the consequences. I have seen enough people calling him a himbo (beloathed term) enough times that I do not need to argue this point. He is smart but also babygirl Why are you like this.

Johnlocked: “When two characters are shipped extensively by fans despite the pairing not necessarily being canon (or even present) in the original work.” it started out with a cactus ring how did it end up like this, it was only a cactus ring, it was only a cactus ring

Knifemurder: Hotguy! [snipes you a second time] 

Magnificent Bastard: This Is The Whole Point. Scar oozes charisma even when he is the villain and that’s why he is so beloved. He is smart, he is stylish, he is charming, even while he is killng you. This is the point. 

Marked Canon/Fanon Divergence: “Sexymen with a large gap between how they are in the original work (Canon) and how they are commonly portrayed in fanworks (Fanon)” see : the fake crystals vs Scar actually having magic, the abs being painted on vs shirtless Scar everywhere, etc.

Monster Features: vex scar vex scar vex scar

Nonhuman: like the vex thing is literally canon it’s not fanon those cons sure did vex 

Pale Twink: We could have done many things with this collection of blocks people, and yet my dash is full of shirtless twinks/twunks every day ending with a y. Curious. 

Perpetual Smiler: Okay listen this is partially the nature of the medium but also 1) that is a distinctive smile and 2) have you see the fanworks? 

Power: This man tried to sell fake magic crystals and we all just decided he can do magic. He was an elf once and now fae/elf Scar headcanons are everywhere. 

Scars: I- I’m not explaining myself here. yes??? 

Tall: I can think of one, maybe two portrayals of Scar that have made him short. 

Theme Song: four expand, expand, expand clear forest make land fresh blood on hands five why just shells why limit yourself she sells seashells sell oil as well six guns sell stocks sell diamonds sell rocks sell water to a fish sell the time to a clock seven press on the gas take your foot off the brakes then run to be the president of the united states eight big smile mate big wave that's great now the truth is overrated tell lies out the gate nine polarise the people controversy is the game it don't matter if they hate you if they all say your name ten the world is yours step out on a stage to a round of applause uou're a liar a cheat a devil a whore and you sell seashells on the seashore

Unkempt: so those rugged life series Scars, huh? 

Villain: Scar has been the villain several times and has a Long list of crimes to his name

Technically Antagonist: see 3rd life

Villain Protagonist: unreliable narrator Scar my beloved. I love how he just *does terrible things edited to make him look like he’s just a silly little guy having some harmless fun*

Well-Dressed: Hmmm I wonder why waggon/tycoon Scar routinely wins every Scar skin poll. Also he has enough outfits to include these sub categories too: 

Suitguy: “Characters who typically wear formalwear, specifically suits. Often includes waistcoats, top hats, bowties, and pinstripes. Other neckwear may also be worn.” Again. The tycoon skin really lives rent free in all out minds, huh?

Long Coat/Cape/Robe/Etc: bathrobe wizard Scar my beloved but also do you know how many thirst trap last life Scars I’ve seen?? 

White Twink Humanization: He is made out of blocks in canon. We did not need to make him like this and yet we did. 

White Hair: last life Scar beloved by many <3

VOTE SCAR!

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

ya know how jin usually wears his jacket uniform around his shoulders? my brain literally does not shut up abt this so would it be possible to request a romantic headcanon/drabble with frostheim and vagastrom boys where they give their jacket to the reader (and ur reasons for why you think they do) :’)

Thank you for sending in a request!

JIN KAMURAI

he doesn't give his jacket up easily, just be aware. And as stated before He's not big on PDA but I think he'd get a little jealous if they were out and about together. If they were really cold He'd give it up, but he'd absolutely complain about it first. (CAPTAIN! DRABBLE SPOTTED ON STARBURD SIDE!)

Jin glared around at the dirty Vagastrom pit. If it wasn't for MC being there for a mission, he wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this for fun. He didn't trust those thugs to make sure MC got back to their dorm okay. When he finally spotted them, he made a B line for them, noticing some general students getting too close for comfort. He stepped in, using his powerful voice and stigma, saying,

"Stand down you thugs!"

Jin swiftly walked up to a shocked looking MC, taking off his jacket and throwing it over their shoulders. He placed a hand on their shoulder, glaring daggers at the general students and guiding MC out of there. When they were out he grabbed their hand and started leading them. Without taking his eyes off of where he was going he said,

"From now on, whenever you come to this shit hole. You take my jacket, is that clear?"

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

Okay, Tohma would give them his jacket if they were cold but I think it would be more of a shield from others if that makes sense. Like to cover them up or to comfort them when something is happening. (WELCOME TO THE DRABBLE DOME!)

Tohma narrowed his eyes as he watched MC leaving Frostheim for the day. He had spotted some general students milling about and getting closer to MC. He stayed where he was until one of the students had tried to grab their arm. In what seemed like a flash, Tohma was there with his typical smile. He held on to the offending students wrist tightly, his composure never cracking. After a moment he let go of the students wrist, and slipped off his jacket, placing it over MC's shoulders. He looked down at them saying,

"Please do forgive them MC. It seems I will have to teach them proper guest etiquette"

KAITO FUJI

Kaito would TRY to give MC his jacket like he's seen in movies and magazines. But he would get WAY too worried about if there was some sort of stain on it from lunch or if it smelled weird. Like if its raining, he'd be too worried about the condition of the jacket to realize MC either ran for cover already.....or is already soaked from the rain. (WE ARE LIVING IN A DRABBLE WORLD! AND I AM JUST A DRABBLE GORL!)

Kaito took a deep breath and shifted his uniform jacket as he walked MC back to their dorm. He saw on his phone that it was supposed to rain today and he purposefully 'forgot' his umbrella. As they were walking it started to drizzle, before quickly turning into a downpour. Kaito thanked whatever diety was out there for this chance. He swiftly took off his jacket, draping it over their shoulders and grabbing their hand to run back to MC's dorm. He laughed along the way, picturing what it looked like to MC. what he thought was a cute scene from a movie.....was really him dragging MC by the hand in the pouring rain. When they finally DO make it back to MC's dorm, they're both sopping wet and MC says,

"Thanks for lending me your jacket and all Kaito.....but i hope you know there's a hole in one of the sleeves."

Kaito died a little inside when MC told him that.

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

Luca, being the lovely English gentlemen he is. He will always give MC his jacket even if it's just a little windy. He would beat himself up if MC got sick when they were with him. (EXTRY EXTRY! DRABBLE FOR ENGLISH BOI!)

Lucas had sent MC a message to meet him in the library to do more research on both their curse and demons. He was making his way to the library, when he spotted them. He waved and jogged up to them, a small smile on his face. He grabbed their hand and gently squeezed it. Keeping their fingers interlocked while they walked together.

MC was mentioning something that happened in one of their classes when Luca felt a drop of something hit his nose. He looked up, noticing clouds overhead. Without hesitating he took off his jacket and placed it on top of MC's head to shield them from the rain. He pressed his hand against their lower back gently guiding them into the building. MC fussed over how he was wet, but he brushed it off with a smile and a soft hand on their cheek, saying,

"I'll be fine MC. I was more worried about you. I wouldn't ever want you to get sick. I promised to protect you after all"

ALAN MIDO

Okay to start with, Alan doesn't wear his jacket. He HAS one, he just doesn't wear it. He has a vest though so its CLOSE ENOUGH! But with his vest, they HAVE to tell him that they're cold AND ask him for his vest. He has no objection to give it to them if they're cold. But his mind is on other things, he's not gonna get the hint if they just tell him that they're cold.

Alan was on his back, working on one of the cars in the Vagastrom garage while he waited for his partner to show up. Tonight was supposed to be date night and they agreed to spend some time together doing seperate things (its called parallel play for those who don't know!). He rolled out to grab a drink of water and a different tool when MC walked in. They were holding their arms and shivering slightly. He greeted them and went back under to work on the car.

MC sat down on the couch and cleared their throat. Alan rolled back out and asked them what was wrong. When they told him it was cold, he offered to get them a blanket or something. When they refused that offer, he didn't know what else to do and went back under. MC sighed and got his attention by calling his name. He rolled back out and asked,

"Did you change your mind on that blanket?"

MC had not and just asked him straightforward,

"Alan sweetie, I'm cold. Can I please borrow your vest?"

He thought about it for a moment before telling them no, then getting up and walking away. MC sat there SHOCKED. For a moment they were upset, but after a minute or two, Alan came back with a uniform jacket, tossing it towards MC, saying,

"Wear that. It'll look better on you than me anyways"

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

I feel like Sho would hand MC his jacket whenever he's either about to cook, or about to fight. He'd give it to them if they were cold sure, but he'd complain about them not being prepared.

Sho made his way back to the Vagastrom dorms with bags full of ingredients. He texted his partner MC to show up with an appetite. He was glad to see MC already at the dorms by the time he got back and parked Bonnie (his bike) properly. He raced past them into the Vagastrom kitchen, urging them to follow.

When they came in, they saw Sho adjusting his bandana to keep the hair out of his face and taking off his jacket. He held it out to MC saying,

"Hang onto this for me babe. I'm about to make a master piece"

Seeing the fire in his eyes, MC gladly took his jacket, slipping it on and sitting down at the kitchen counter. They watched as he expertly cooked: cutting vegetables, frying and double frying meats, even his plating was mesmerizing to watch. When he was finished he set the hot plate down in front of MC with a smirk.

LEO KUROSAGI

Leo would NOT give them the jacket he wears. Its a very expensive jacket that he got from a brand deal. The only time he would willingly give MC his jacket is if something happened and they were really really upset (not at him though)

Leo sighed as he walked to MC's dorm. He didn't bother knocking as he came into the old cathedral. He looked around calling for MC. He eventually found them curled up in bed, sobbing. He cringed a bit, not entirely comfortable with such intense emotions. He took a minute to think before sighing dramatically. He sat down on the edge of the bed and threw his jacket over their sobbing form. He put a gentle hand on their back, saying,

"Just try not to get any tear streaks on it, okay?"

[ghcstao3]

hi, hope you're well! so today I was thinking (bc ofc my brain's natural reaction is to lunge viciously for the hurt/comfort), what if the '09 game events still happened? Like, instead of AUs (where timelines branch off from a single event), it's a glitch in the timeline? So you have the '22 version of the 141 doing their thing, but they have nightmares & deja vu stemming from the '09 stuff. Cue (yes I'm shipping) SoapGhost where Ghost has all these bad feelings concerning Shepherd plus he has awful nightmares about burning & Soap's there to comfort him, but he's afraid that they're all losing it bc he keeps having similar dreams concerning how he dies--

i am well ty! hope u are as well!

anyway i tried my Best. however u may (will) have to pretend 22 141 doesnt know shepherd was part of the betrayal bc uhhh yeah👍🙂👍 also cw for kinda graphic desc of ghost’s nightmares

-

Soap couldn’t pinpoint when the dreams started, or why, for that matter—but what he does know is that it’s pure and utter torment.

It’s a unique fear that festers in their wake, in cold sweat and heart palpitations. It’s spine-chilling in a way Soap has never experienced, because while he’s confident he’s looked death in the eyes on too many occasions, never has he actually died.

But his dreams, these dreams—they tell him otherwise. And he isn’t the only one, either.

Gaz and Price have started to look just as sleepless. And Ghost—Soap has never seen him so afraid. When, for the first time in weeks, Soap sees his face, it’s harrowed. Haunted.

There’s a sense of familiarity that’s brought along with Soap’s dreams; explosions, gunfire, dilapidated buildings and someone screaming his name. His brain supplies him with the knowledge that it’s Price, but it isn’t, not really. At least, not how he knows Price. He feels old wounds tearing open and a searing pain in his side as his body is drained of far too much blood, and Price—not his Price—is shaking him. Begging.

In the end, it just makes sense to Soap. To die in the field. But the dream is too visceral to feel anything but real, and he starts to wonder just when he’d begun to deserve these sorts of taunts.

Gaz says his own nightmares are blunt, but just as violent. As fiery. Price doesn’t say anything, but there’s a new sunken quality to the bags under his eyes, and he just looks at his team so different, with a tortured gaze and a regret so profound he doesn’t seem to understand it himself.

Finally, Soap thinks, their mental states have deteriorated beyond repair. Until, in his arms, Ghost is screaming his throat raw in his sleep, a wail only ever sounded by those trekking their way through hell. Soap’s heard it before, from others, in their final moments, but never from the living.

And that’s when Soap begins to understand that these aren’t just some dreams, but some distant reality he hopes to never face.

Soap gently coaxes Ghost from his slumber, cutting through nightmare and imagination and whatever horrible thing could have Ghost in such pain. His face wets with tears as he slowly wakes, clinging to Soap like a child might to their mother’s leg in an indescribable fear. Ghost has never seemed so small.

“It’s not just you,” Soap whispers. He presses a kiss to Ghost’s temple, pulls the man closer. “Tell me what happened.”

As Ghost gradually forces out the words Soap begins to feel sick, nauseated not only by their contents but by the knowledge that Ghost had just lived through it, but he never lets go. Never asks for Ghost to stop speaking, just listens. Listens even as something gnaws away at his gut, as bile climbs his throat.

Hot, Ghost says. It was hot. A bullet had been lodged somewhere in his body but it didn’t matter—it was hot. He’d claw off his skin to get rid of the heat if it weren’t already melting flesh from muscle, from bone. Clothes and gear meld with his corpse and he feels it all, feels the bubbling, smells the burning, senses the way parts of his body slough off into ash.

He’s reaching for someone, and there’s the itch of betrayal, and a voice in his ear that he knows, instinctually, is Price, but there isn’t anything more he can do than lie there and accept his fate as his fleeting thoughts pester him about everything he’d done wrong. About everything he could’ve done—should’ve done to save… to save—

“I know his name,” Ghost murmurs, “but I also don’t. And I—“

“Don’t dwell on it, Simon,” Soap advises. “Please.”

Ghost shakes his head against Soap’s shoulder. “I can’t just—it’s not something I can forget, Johnny. Not when it keeps happening.”

“But you can,” Soap pleads. A terrible sense of dread has befallen him, growing in intensity and insistence. Something isn’t right, but he doesn’t know if he wants to find out just what. “We all can.”

Ghost is silent a moment. Shifts somehow closer to Soap. Soap can hear him thinking.

“I don’t know if we should be trusting Shepherd,” he finally says.

Soap’s face pinches in a tight frown. It seems such a random topic for this hour, after such terror. “Why?”

Ghost shrugs. “Can’t explain it. Gut feeling. Could be wrong, but—“

“When are you ever?” It’s meant to be teasing, but Soap does trust Ghost’s judgement more than anyone, perhaps even more than his own. Ghost just nods and clings ever tighter until his breathing evens out and tense muscles go lax.

Soap can’t find it in himself to fall back asleep.

Instead, he begins to wonder just how true these nightmares hold. And he begins to question how exactly Shepherd may fit into all of it.

Unfortunately, though, he supposes, there’s only one way to find out.

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Boredom

Ficlet for the other option of this poll!

I am very impatient today so you get this one ahead of time too. Writing brain go brrr!!

Enjoy <3

Wei Ying is bored - which, mind you, doesn't happen often. He's tired of reading, writing, drawing and inventing, and now he's agonizing onto the floor of the jingshi, pouting, immensely, incredibly, impossibly bored.

He usually has his husband to keep him entertained if nothing else tickles his fancy - but now said husband is laying in bed, fast asleep, unmoving and undisturbed, after having inhaled some sort of sleeping powder during their last night hunt, so Wei Ying is on his own.

Of course, Wei Ying is more than grateful that the powder has no other adverse effects and is not in any way dangerous or deadly - but Lan Zhan has been sleeping like the dead for the past three days and Wei Ying is started to lose his mind about it.

First, he misses his husband. Yes, he's right there, but he's not. Wei Ying wants to hug and kiss him and tease him and talk to him and do everything else with him, like he always does - but he can't, because Lan Zhan is asleep and the doctor said he won't wake up until all that sleeping powder has been filtered out of him. Who knows when that will be! Yes, Wei Ying has been kissing him and holding him all the while, but it feels... Wei Ying doesn't want to think about it, but it feels like he's loving on a corpse. Even if Lan Zhan is still alive... he's not living, if that makes any sense. And Wei Ying hates that. He wants his husband back, fully.

Second, life without Lan Zhan is so bland! Wei Ying misses his one word commentaries that are way too funny in the worst circumstances, or the way he subtly teases Wei Ying back, or how easy it is to just exist around him, bounce ideas off him and just spend time together. He misses their walks into the bunny field, their tutoring sessions with the juniors, their visits to nearby towns, everything they'd do together, no matter how mundane.

The doctor advised him to talk to Lan Zhan, try to live around him in hopes it would help him wake up easier. And Wei Ying is nothing but a chatterbox when he wants to be - except it gets a little jarring to be the only one talking. He's done that before, pretended that the people he was talking to were still around when they were not - and it brings back painful memories.

Third, Wei Ying's been holed up in the jingshi for the entirety of the past three days, dutifully by Lan Zhan's bedside - and he's run out of things to do to keep him busy. Yes, he could always go on a walk outside or something - and he tried to, but he was back five minutes later in a panic because what if Lan Zhan woke up and he wasn't there? What if he was sick or hurt or lonely or scared and Wei Ying wasn't there to soothe and help him?

So, now, Wei Ying has plastered himself onto the floor next to Lan Zhan's bed, and has been idly talking to himself and to his husband to fill in the silence, whining about being bored and lonely and wanting his husband back.

"Are you going to wake up today, Lan Zhan? You've been sleeping for three days, just how much powder did you inhale anyway?" A sigh, as Wei Ying pokes at his cheek with a finger. "I miss you. Wake up already! You're super strong, peerless and all that, why haven't you filtered all that powder out already? Are you purposefully staying asleep just to torment me? That's so mean!"

Wei Ying takes one of Lan Zhan's hands to hold in his own. "It's so lonely without you, you know? Now that you slept for three whole days, you'll have to hold me and love me for three whole days in return. Do you know how much I've been fretting over you? I even cried!"

He kisses Lan Zhan's knuckles, and finds himself emotional all of a sudden. "It really feels like you're dead right now, and it's horrible. I don't think I could ever live without you... so wake up already so I don't have to."

Of course, there is no answer. Wei Ying decides he might as well go to sleep himself, since there's nothing else to do, and he doesn't think he can stomach being awake and alone any longer that day.

So, he climbs into bed next to his husband, and falls asleep holding his hand.

He's probably dreaming when he feels Lan Zhan squeeze his fingers back.

---

"Wei Ying. Wake up."

His eyes crack open, and he mumbles something as he covers his face with the blanket - before reality catches up to him and he springs awake, so hard that he almost feels dizzy.

"Lan Zhan?! You're awake!"

"I am."

Wei Ying all but launches himself in his husband's arms, sniffling as he squeezes him in a tight hug. "Don't ever do something like this to me again! I was so worried! And so scared! And I missed you so much I thought I was going to die again!"

Lan Zhan huffs an amused breath and wraps his arms around Wei Ying, stroking his hair. "I'm here now."

"It was terrible when you weren't! I'm going to find whoever invented that powder and turn them into a fierce corpse!"

Lan Zhan can't help a small laugh. "Wei Ying."

"No, I will. Nobody takes my husband away from me and gets away with it!"

They stay like that for a while, basking in each other's presence, and the reality of each other's physicality, touch, smell and presence.

"I heard you talking to me, all throughout my slumber." Lan Zhan says, after a while. "It was comforting to know you were waiting for me."

"How could I not? It was torture, but I couldn't not wait. How did you do it, for 13 years?"

"I didn't know I was waiting, Wei Ying. I didn't know - I never imagined you would ever return."

"I'm happy I did. And I'm happy you did too." A yawn. "But now I think I'm going to sleep a little more."

Lan Zhan sends him an incredulous look, but Wei Ying side eyes him in response as he makes himself comfortable underneath the soft bedding. "You slept for three days. I had to watch over you, so I barely slept for one. I don't wanna hear it!"

Lan Zhan sighs and takes his place behind Wei Ying wrapping an arm around him. "Sleep well, then. But when you wake up..." a teasing kiss to the nape of his neck. "...we have a lot to catch up on."

[scoonsalicious]

Two words: SET UP

THIS WAS A FUCKING SET UP !!!!! and my senses are tingling that Steve has something to do with this. there's a protocol about who gets to go on a mission right? and i feel like you need to be given permission AND briefed. so i don't think it would've been possible for Jessica to be able to get in that quinjet unless someone authorized it (lookin straight at you Steven. kicking you in the balls on my way out too bc i don't trust you). Like, the second Steve spoke randomly, alarm bells started ringing in my head. He's in love with Pocket, and i think he still is AND I THINK, Julius might have approached Steve at some point, given him a proposition like "Hey, if you help me break them up, then you can finally make a move on Pocket and I get to have Barnes, win-win, so are you in?" AND BEING THE OBSESSED IDIOT I DON'T DOUBT HE'D SAY YES RIGHT OFF THE BAT. like doesn't matter if Pocket got her, Steveioli would become the knight and shining armor and comfort her and barf. JUST A THEORY but anyways. Or if Jasper actually managed to sneak in there without anyone knowing, then that's breaking some rule right? god please can she be kicked out already.

but dammit i knew it. i knew something was bound to happen regarding the mission. i didn't take into account Pocket actually not being able to go. But still, the mission is underway, so many possibilities that could happen. Judging by Bucky's reaction when he found out Javier was on the mission with him and immediately contacting Pocket, he is doing his best, and I honestly do believe that he was blindsided and had no idea how Jonas got there. But I will say, I am worried. Because that snake is a manipulative piece of shit and she's going to say something that'd make Bucky spiral (cough steve related cough) and i don't think something horrible is going to happen, but i feel like its going to be something like, Bucky forgetting to communicate etc etc. and when they get back, Bucky is going to be defensive and sigh, I really feel that it's a whole, one step forward, two steps back situation. But I am holding out hope for Bucky becaase he really does seem like he wants to fix this.

EITHER WAY i'm so set on this train i'm in that Steve and Jimmy are both in on this in some way. Like maybe Steve is just a new addition to the plan, like a last minute resort since Bucky's ignoring Judith so she needed help and reinforcements.

OMG I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH ON THE POCKET BEING SICK PART. but hmm, i'm not sure though because she got sick when she smelled it and that's can be a sign of pregnancy but who knows. I saw people saying poisoning, but it must've happened at another time? but still, with food poisoning, the reaction is immediate, like when you drink something, it's usually minutes or a few hours later that you start throwing up. and i don't think you can get poisoning from smelling so it definitely wasn't the Thai food. but it's also way too much of a coincidence so i do think something was done to her for her to be sick.

but, anyway, i apologize for having so many theories hahah it's just how my brain is wired. but again, great writing and i can't wait for more!

— Jnon 🤍

Oh, Jnon! My beloved.

There is so much I want to say to you in response, but cannot, because I don't want to accidentally divulge anything. Here is what I will say:

"Steveioli" I AM DYING.

It was NOT the Thai food.

Bucky IS doing his best <3 But is that going to be enough?

Steeb and Jerimiah have similar goals, true, but they are not actively working together.

Two parts coming today-- 4:45pm and 5pm EST!

[monsterfloofs]

Can I request some more stories with luxe plz?

Luxe (Gender Fluid Concubus) x Reader (Sfw)

(Hello!! Thank you for this note! I am so glad you like my Luxe. Here is a little short story I whipped up because I couldn't sleep ahah! I was really sick a few weeks ago, and whenever I feel abnormal I study how I feel and think so I can more accurately portray it in writing! >:) Also, I had a dream about this little story and I typically don't get to see my characters in my dreams?? So this made me super duper extra happy AAAAAAH, and was very motivating for me to get this written! I hope you enjoy! ♡)

Feeling unwell went from sniffling and coughing one day, to having a full blown bout of sickness the next morning. Coughing and hacking so much it made your chest hurt and your head spin. Your temple throbbed and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you drew the curtains and retreated back to bed. Rising to your feet was an undertaking. It made you dizzy, and a new wash of pain bored into your head.

There was no way you could go to work today. Yesterday you had felt the sickness creeping up on you, but the signs were manageable and kept working. After all, the castle was a busy place, and there was much to be done. Still, you hadn't expected to be knocked down so fast the next day. You reached for the mirror at your bedside. Blinking slowly as the soft glow made you squint your eyes. Drawing your finger across the surface, which rippled softly at your touch.

"Send a message to Luxe. . . Tell them that I won't be able to help them today.." Of course this is when a tickle rises in your throat and you cough to try and clear it. For a solid moment all you can do is cough, whatever upset your throat refused to be soothed. You couldn't cough deep enough, but the tickle managed to subside for you to rasp out.

"I'm sorry, I got sick. I just am not feeling good enough today." You ended the message with a swipe of your finger, then put the mirror face down on the table. You blow your nose with a tissue before rolling over in bed, pulling the covers over your head in an attempt to block out as much light as you can. The afternoon was spent in and out of consciousness, with the waste paper basket and night stand filling up with balled up tissues. Between sleeping, sneezing and coughing you did little else. Everytime you woke up, you pleaded with your body to go back to sleep. Being awake just felt too taxing, you had tried reading but the words floated off the page and it hurt your eyes to keep them open for too long.

Between sleeping you startle awake to a knock at your door. Hastily rubbing your eyes as a figure peeks around the corner at you.

"Did I wake you up?"

"It's okay," The words slither out in a slur between chapped lips. As Luxe tentatively steps inside, carrying a tray of soup.

"Oh darling, you look miserable."

"I feel mis. . . miserable" You agreed weakly. You blink slowly, and in between your eyes opening and closing Luxe crossed the room. From setting the tray down to pressing a cool washcloth against your forehead. You breathe a ragged hum, managing a thank you before your body wants to cough again.

"What can I get you love? What sounds good?"

"Nothing," You whisper, Luxe's painted lips purse as you take a breath. "I just wanna sleep."

"Alright," The butler murmurs gently, "Alright love, I will let you sleep." They put a little bell onto your nightstand. "Ring this if you need anything." They command sternly, and you nod your eyes refusing to stay open any longer.

It was only when you were drifting in and out of consciousness again, throwing blankets on and off between being too hot and too cold that you realized they referred to you as 'love'. Your brain was a little too sluggish to make much sense of the new term of endearment. Nevertheless, the name made you feel both cared for and guilty. They had stopped in the midst of their busy schedule to make you food you hadn't eaten. You tried some of the soup, which to your surprise was still hot. The warm liquid felt soothing to your throat. From a glance you could see vegetables and chicken floating in the broth. It should have been delicious but you just couldn't taste it, and found your stomach rejecting the soup after a few spoonfuls.

It was the middle of the night before you felt somewhat active. The headache was a dull throb behind your eyes as you slouched out of bed. Shoving tissues in your pocket as you wandered your way down the stairs. You felt groggy and out of touch, so you moved sluggishly and deliberately toward the kitchen. Watching your feet upon the stairs, clutching the hand railing tightly.

Luxe was in the kitchen, and their head jerks up, her expression rearranging into surprise as you shuffle in. "I thought I told you to ring for me,"

"It's. You're. So busy." You manage to warble out, was stringing words together always so hard? Your eyebrows push together as you wash your hands in the sink. You have to stop halfway through drying your hands to dab at your nose, which sends you back over to the sink. Unceremoniously stuffing a roll of tissue up your nose to stop the leak. Luxe lets out a soft huff, pushing back their immaculate bangs with their fingers.

"Darling, you know that you are not an imposition, don't you? You're sick for goodness sake."

You look down, running your thumb back and forth on the hand towel. Back and forth, back and forth. "Maybe." You croak, your eyes watering with tears. Luxe studies your face, a frown tugging on their lips. They cross over to you putting an arm around your shoulder which makes you flinch.

"You'll get s-"

"Sh,sh,sh." She shushes you and gives you a small kiss on your forehead. It makes you blink as more tears dribble from your eyes.

"I know you are perfectly independant, love. Perfectly capable of doing things on your own. Let me take care of you. Just a little."

You couldn't look them in the eyes. Staring at the floor before giving a weak nod. The arm around your shoulder slides away as they drift to the ice box, their tail twitching as they walk.

"I was going to save this for a treat, but I think this might taste good to you." You fidget with the towel again, peeking up at them and staring at the box of ice cream in their hands.

"Will you. . . have some with me?" They beam at you, already reaching for two bowls.

"But of course."

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! (♡⸃ ◡ ⸂♡)

[crashtestjeffy]

I am way off-centre today.

I had a horrible nightmare last about my father and I was so angry and so caught in the shitty things he did, that I knocked over a bedside stand and a a little desk by my bed and cut my leg open. And in the process I yelled and swore and fought so much that it woke up my daughter in her room. It was bad. And I am living in the feelings I had in the nightmare still. And in the abuse I endured. It serves me right. I know better than to allow myself to remember while I am awake. To try to make sense of the abuse. To ask "How could you do that?" or even worse "Could I do it?" and sadly the answer is no I couldn't, never.

But that answer doesn't make me feel better. In fact it makes it worse. Because then it makes me confront the fact that something was really fucking wrong with how I was treated and either I didn't deserve it or I was just such a rotten kid I did deserve it. But mostly it makes me confront how fucking sick my father was. And he was....So sick. How else do you hit a toddler with a leather belt or punch a little boy or take a bat to your sleeping teenager. I spent a lot of time as a kid watching for his car and hoping it didn't come home, that he had an accident and I would be spared. Then as I got older I thought as much about killing him. There that is my truth, i was so angry and abused and afraid that killing my father seemed like the only way to escape it. And I let myself think about all this yesterday and paid for it last night. So today I am desperately trying to purge my brain and soul or else this shit will linger for days. And the nightmares will continue. Hey want to know what I am really thinking right now? I am thinking, how does an almost 53 year old man with his own child still live so haunted and frightened of these things? Don't people say as an adult you need to get over these things? And I have tried, and tried, and tried. I no longer hate him, I am still angry though. I hold no more resentments. Contrary to what the 12 Step programs swear is the source of all my problems. I released that part of it. It's the goddamn memories and echos though. They never end. Nobody really reads this shit. I don't even care anymore. But if you did, thanks. I just want to be heard. Even if only by the trees. The universe. Again thanks for reading. So hey if you feel any love for my trainwreck life, buy me lunch. I am exhausted and still hungry.

[inside-black-moon]

Today is a special day for me.  Before this, I had never “celebrated,” so to speak, this day.

So, if anyone doesn’t know, today is World Autism Day and its main goal is to educate the public.

Speaking specifically about me, I received my official diagnosis last year.  To be honest, this allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief.  My difference from neurotypical people was finally scientifically explained and it helped me accept myself.

Do you know what my life was like?  It was like I was a duck in a pack of wolves.  I sincerely believed that I was also a wolf and refused to face the truth.  But other wolves, for the most part, convinced me that I was a wolf, without focusing on the fact that I had no fangs or fur.  And ducks don’t know how to howl like a wolf.  What was most difficult about this was that the wolves expected and demanded from the duck the behavior and lifestyle of a wolf.  A duck cannot hunt deer, a duck cannot run as fast as a wolf.  And instead of howling at the moon, I'd rather sleep, I swear.

I tried in vain for many years to be like everyone else.  But my body and psyche began to fail.  The critical point was just that year, a few days before visiting the psychiatrist.  And from that moment I had to start rebuilding my whole life.

The first thing I needed to do was accept the fact that I would never become a wolf.  Yes, I can coexist with people in society, but not in the same way as most people.  There will always be some invisible barrier due to the purely biological aspects of the brain.

Despite this barrier, I had very long-term close friendships with people - with one friend we were friends for 12 years, with another - 4. It was like a discussion club, an eternal search for something new, studying, self-education and mutual support in this.

The second important aspect for me was to explain to people close to me that I, in principle, am not able to do certain things due to the way my brain works.  For example, most autistics have very poor vestibular function (this also manifests itself in clumsiness) and in my case I am very unfriendly with stairs and transport.  But nevertheless, throughout my childhood I was forcibly forced to travel in public transport.  What’s funny is that I lost consciousness, I felt sick, I fell, but my parents and I went to the doctors to find out what was wrong with me.  And for many years of such trips, not a single doctor could diagnose me.  Now only 1 person understands me and is tolerant of my characteristics.  I didn’t announce the diagnosis to my relatives because I know them and I know their reaction.  This will again be a situation where the wolves will force the duck to hunt the deer.

Fact - culture, level of awareness and tolerance greatly influence the acceptance or non-acceptance of autism by others.  Sometimes it really makes sense not to tell some people about it because you might get rejected.

In my homeland there are big problems with this - culture and ignorance destroy even the hope that a person with autism can be part of society.  The culture of “disdain for those who are different” and autistic people are equated with the disabled, the lower class, the scum, the biological trash.

They bully us, humiliate us, avoid us, wave their hand - “he/she is sick”, some believe that it is contagious, some believe that autistic people are doomed to live a short life, the majority are convinced that people with autism should (!) be permanently in psychiatric hospitals  basis away from normal people.

This whole outcast attitude is depressing.  Yes, there is a certain percentage of autistic people who cannot withstand such pressure and die - either on their own or due to diseases caused by overload of the nervous system.  But there are also those who find the strength to swim against the tide and become outstanding people - media, famous, geniuses in their field.

Third - acceptance and study of yourself.  At some point you come to the realization that you are not like everyone else, you do not fit into the general picture of society, the world, the universe.  It’s as if you live on planet Earth, but at the same time you feel like you live on some other planet.  Even the atmosphere is different, even the laws of physics.  Everything is different, everything is not the same.  Understanding this in time, before you run out of strength in stupid attempts to be like everyone else, is a great success.  Time is our main enemy.  I really spent most of my life living incorrectly; doctors of different specialties and ranks were looking for the reason for my “difference”.  But all this was to no avail, because they were looking for the wrong thing.  For most of my life I tried to play by rules that I didn’t understand and tried to somehow rationally explain to myself.  How to be friends, how to communicate, how to live.  But one fine day I heard a very good phrase - you think rationally, and they think emotionally.  At that moment I was in a stupor - how is this “emotionally”?

This is one of the main and very controversial problems for autistic people - emotions.  I think many people imagine a stereotypical autistic person who does not speak, sways from side to side and looks at one point.  Yes, the spectrum of autism is very wide and such people also exist (more on this later), but believe me, even such autistic people have emotions, feelings and are even capable of love.  But not like neurotypical people.

And now I will tell you about the magic of autistic emotions.  Ooh, guys, believe me, you won’t find this in books about autism.

It’s as if our nervous system is not under the skin, but on the skin.  We love not with our hearts, but with our minds.  We love not through emotions, but through awareness.  The best gift for an autistic person is something that will give him a pleasant tactile or visual sensation.  Way back when I was in school, when I had a scientifically minded friend, we discussed the theory of the development of the mind.  At that time, I was a volunteer and was developing the first “scripts” for the AI, according to which it would further train itself.  My friend was working in parallel on another project, at a higher stage - he created learning algorithms for AI.

And we had an argument.  My theory was about associative thinking.  For example, if as a child you liked yellow color and free-flowing consistency, then there is a high probability that as you grow older you will like yellow rice, sand, and yellow beads.  And this affects your overall lifestyle, hobbies and even food preferences.  And the greater the variability of “favorite things,” the greater the variability of the “end point.”  Following this concept, I trained AI.

Now I can say with more confidence that this theory fits perfectly into the mind of an autistic person.  Many parents of autistic children complain of an unpredictable reaction to something - it seems like an ordinary sunny day, but the child screams endlessly and cannot explain what is wrong.  And it turns out that a certain brightness of light irritates him.  Therefore, this child does not need to be taken to the cinema, where there will be the same bright light.  Often, even speaking autistic people cannot understand what causes sensory overload just because the world moves at a breakneck pace.  We just don’t have time to understand what suddenly unsettled us.

I don't like bright light, by the way.  And that’s why I became a big fan of various lamps, garlands, and fixtures.

The system of associative thinking is precisely the key to the emotions of an autistic person.  For example, if your gift fits into the associative system of pleasant things for an autistic person, then it will be the best gift in his life.  In turn, don’t be surprised at how accurately he gets the gift for you right.  He will not only guess what exactly you want, but will also know what color and texture are ideal for your preferences.  Because an autistic person cannot do otherwise - he does not know how to do otherwise.

Also in love relationships, family relationships.  Any.  If an autistic person finds common ground with someone, if that person intersects with this internal network of “nice things,” then these will be the most sincere, open, honest and considerate partners.  Autistic people are not capable of behind-the-scenes games and intrigues - this is too difficult for an already overloaded brain.  We see no point in lying, deceiving, saying one thing and doing another.  But we expect the same attitude in return.  And we are sincerely perplexed that it could be otherwise - that a partner or friend could lie (why?), be a hypocrite (why?), use it for selfish purposes (why?).  And this greatly affects our psyche.  We are naive and gullible.  We are open and absolutely do not understand hints/sarcasm/innuendos/intrigues/conspiracies.

In a work group, autistic people work the most - they don’t waste time on intrigue, talking about the weather or the past weekend.  But at the same time, they may be considered outcasts (because they avoid general conversations) or upstarts (you work harder than everyone else = please your bosses = you put yourself above everyone else = an arrogant egoist).  Therefore, the ideal job for an autistic person is not in a large team, or completely without contact with people.

But unfortunately, the autism spectrum can be quite...severe, let's put it that way.  I'm talking about those boys and girls who don't even live to be 20 years old.  I'm talking about those young people who barely made it to 30 and, due to the lack of a guardian, ended up in psychiatric hospitals and their lives were reduced to 4 walls, belts on their arms and legs, and tranquilizers.  And I'm talking about those who have lived to an old age, are left alone and create very serious and dangerous problems for those around them.

But society in my homeland equates all autists with one red line - these are sick people, these are dangerous people.  Moreover, due to a backward healthcare system, autism diagnosed at an early age is reclassified as schizophrenia upon reaching adulthood.  And autism is being treated as schizophrenia.  This is a terrible mistake.

Throughout my life I have met several autistic people of varying degrees:

- One guy, he studied with me in the same class at school.  We all thought he was normal, but also a little strange.  He spoke exclusively in lines from his favorite films and at the same time perfectly imitated the voices of the actors who spoke these phrases in the original.  This is how he communicated with other guys.  Teachers rarely bothered him.  What’s interesting is that he voluntarily chose a literature exam (one of the most difficult) as his last exam at school.  He was the only one from the entire school who chose literature.  He really had some crazy talent for writing and analyzing literature, even though he literally never spoke his thoughts in his own voice.  On paper, everything was completely different.

- Another guy who went to school, but was separated from all classes.  Sometimes our class crossed paths with him in the same office.  He always sat somewhere in the back and everyone tried not to be distracted by him.  But it was difficult - he could laugh, shout numbers, throw things.  God bless the teachers who tried to teach him at least some minimal knowledge.  He was over 20 years old at that time.  After school his mother always picked him up and they walked leisurely around the city.  I often met them together.

- The worst case... I confess - despite the fact that for personal reasons I have not communicated with this person for more than a year, I still worry about the life of his child with the most severe form of autism.  I understand that this is not my child, not my responsibility, but... it’s difficult to explain.

There is a type of autism in which the instinct of self-preservation is completely absent and there is no speech.  There are very few such children all over the world.  They are unable to take care of themselves, they are hyperactive.  They may not sleep for several days.  But at the same time, parents/guardians should not sleep either, because such children require constant supervision due to the high risk to the child’s health.  These children are monstrously strong physically.  They can literally start beating themselves until they bleed and suffer a concussion due to sensory overload or any other discomfort.  This could be anything - from a chafing tag on the inside of clothing to a vase standing “wrong” in the hallway.  But they cannot say this because they are not able to speak.  They see hallucinations, which can also frighten them.  In some cases, with age (puberty), they develop epilepsy and most often this is the reason for the end of their lives.  My mother talked about a similar family, where there was only a mother and daughter.  Daughter with this form of autism.  And the mother looks like a zombie - after all, she needs to somehow support her family and look after her daughter.  It's terribly difficult.  I've read stories of similar families.  Most often, parents are afraid to inform others about this situation.  This is both shame and fear... fear that people will turn away, that there will be very tactless questions and unsolicited advice.  Believe me, in such a situation, to receive advice “can you get rid of this child?”  It just blows your mind.  Parents of such autistic people are in unbearable and hopeless conditions.  The only thing that can save is outside help.  Even a simple trip to the store to buy food for such a family a few days in advance will save them and make their life much easier.

But I really ask, if you know or suspect that there is a similar family in your environment - do not give advice, tactless questions, do not say “can I help with anything?”, but say “I can help. I can buy you food,  fix something, do something, call and arrange for repairs, pay for something."  This way you can save someone's family.

In conclusion, I would like to say that despite the diagnosis and the accompanying unusual features, all this did not prevent me from building a career, starting a family and communicating with people.  Even write a book on learning to draw and an autobiographical novel hidden in a futuristic thriller-melodrama.  All this did not prevent me from achieving certain heights in various types of activities - from drawing and journalism to photography and modding.  This will sound strange, but I can enthusiastically work in the 010 editor (which I learned to use on my own) and with no less enthusiasm search for quartz stones on the beach to replenish my collection.

Warframe became a home environment for my high-functioning autism from the first minutes of the game. The alternation of completely different types of activities in the game helps to organize the endless stream of thoughts in my head, and team play allows me to be part of society and feel the absence of an invisible barrier between me and neurotypical people. This is a place where they won’t say “go away, you’re ruining everything” or “you’re not like everyone else, that means you’re worse.” My gift for incredibly fast reaction and analysis of the current situation allows me to be both in the support team and as an attacker. This is the type of player who saves everyone, including all companions, while killing a crowd of enemies and asks with burning enthusiasm - one more round? Yes? Yes? Yes?

Autism is a huge iceberg, which is 80% hidden underwater from the eyes of others.  And if you have a bathyscaphe “desire for knowledge,” then a completely new world may open up before you.

I'm Irene Wolf, thank you for your attention.

[macabrelinguine]

MH boys separately, with a s/o who betrays them. Not cheating, but like, they turn out to be a 'villain' of sorts and actually helping the other side (if that makes sense? An example ig would be a s/o of Jay or Tim helping Alex reach his goals)

Oooooh, love the creative prompt. I’ll just be going with the main two for now as I am about to rest. Hope you enjoy!

Tim

Tim would be furious. But mostly at himself. Why didn’t he see the signs?! He found out you were working with Alex when he found a journal you’d been writing in open on the floor when he was packing up a hotel room. He didn’t mean to snoop, but he accidentally read a few words when he was picking it up. He got confused, so he read a little more. You were writing about secretly meeting with Alex, planning strategies, and trying to find the best way to end the sickness. You had written lists of people who did, probably did, or might have the sickness. You had maps of houses, with all possible entrances noted. You had pictures of people, with their schedules, strengths, and weaknesses listed. You even had a page for him, with a picture, his schedule, and a question mark at the top. When he finished reading it all, he sank to the floor, huddling into the corner. You couldn’t have- you WOULDN’T have- but you did. All the evidence was right there, in the book you forgot to close. When you get back from the store, ready to drive to the next location, your stuff is in a neat pile in the still open motel room. A note placed on top reads “Leave me the fuck alone. And next time you try to trick someone, close your journal”

Jay

Jay finds out when he’s walking through the forest, supposed to be in the motel. He finds a small, one room cabin and decides to investigate. While outside, he peeks into the window. The glass is wavy, so he can only see silhouettes. But he can still hear voices. You….and Alex?! He gets confused, and at first he thinks you’re in trouble, so he moves to go inside, but then his brain registers what you two are saying. You’re talking about Tim. About how to kill him. Jay doesn’t always have the best relationship with Tim, but he cares about him. He gets upset and sits under the window to keep listening. Eventually the subject gets to HIM. He listens intently, leaning against the wall. You’re reluctant to kill him, you say. Alex questions you, saying that’s the whole reason you’re with him. So he’ll trust you. Jay gasps involuntarily. Then, hearing the voices stop, and then shuffling noises, he runs. He runs back to the motel, hastily editing and uploading the next entry. When you get back hours later, after thoroughly searching the woods, all his stuff is gone. All your stuff is where you left it, but any trace of Jay has disappeared. You go on the computer, checking the YouTube channel to see if he’s okay, or in danger, or hurt. What you see instead is text of the screen that says “today, while in the forest, I discovered something terrible. Then, footage of a small cabin. The conversation you had mere hours before. Jay gasping, then running. The camera cuts, and the words on the screen say “Tim, if you’re watching this, wherever you are, stay safe. And Alex, and the people working with him, stay away from me.”

[adoracora-elizabeth]

But Papa! Why? Chapter 14

I hope this chapter is not too complicated and that it makes sense

After Robert made sure Cora ate something for lunch, he sent her to bed. She had a fever and needed her rest. They could not do anything at the moment, he needed to figure out why her mother wanted Cora to come home. He had a feeling that his mother had a hand in this.

He called Rosamund. “Have you secured the house?” He asked when she picked up.

“I have, it is yours. I did the transaction anonymously.” She answered

“That is smart, thank you.”

“What time are you coming to the office, it is easier to talk in person,” Rosamund asked.

“I am still at Cora’s place, I am not coming to the office today. I cannot leave her alone now.”

“Alright, we will discuss this over the phone. I think I know what happened and why Mama called Mrs. Levinson.”

Robert almost choked on the sip of water he just took. “Wait, what did you say? Did mama call Mrs Levinson? Why?”

“She has not kept her eyes in her pocket and she has seen how you look at Cora. She also saw the result of her work and she is a threat.”

“A threat? What do you mean by that?” Robert was flabbergasted by Rosamund’s words.

Rosamund let out a deep sigh. “Oke, let me start at the beginning. I found out why we have this collaboration between the two companies. Mrs. Levinson, I will call her by her first name from now on, Martha. Wanted her daughter Cora to marry into a title here in England. She believes that with a title comes an estate and a lot of respect from other people. She did not know that being a Lord in these times was not the same as back in 1920. Cora must have told her mother about our title and Downton being like it is now.”

“So, I can understand why Martha wanted Cora to come here, but why did Papa go into business with them, what were we, as a company, getting from her coming here?” Robert stood and started pacing around.

“Mama is the brain behind that plan. She had found out that whoever Cora married, will get her dowery. There is a large amount attached to her name and with that money, we would be able to rebuild Downton in its full glory.”

“Wait, just wait, there is one thing I do not understand. Why Cora? Mama does not like Cora. She is against her American heritage.”

“I guess that money makes her forget about those things?” Rosamund laughed.

“You also said, Cora is a threat. What did you mean by that?” He looked into the hallway, the door to Cora’s bedroom was still closed. He could only hope she was still asleep.

“It is a bit harder to explain. But in the end, it comes to this. You are a Mama’s boy.”

Robert started to protest, but Rosamund continued. “You are, you cannot deny that. You always listen to what Mama wants and then make sure it happens. But now Cora showed up, and you started to follow her ideas. For the outside world, you made it look like, you were against that idea with SkyGarden. But we all could see that you liked it. Mama tried to get this idea out of your head, but she failed. And then Cora proved that it worked, it worked out better than we could have dreamed of. We gained so many new potential clients in just the one day the advert is out.”

“We did?” Robert asked surprised.

Rosamund sighed annoyed. “Since when do you not read your emails on a workday?”

“I took the day off to take care of Cora, so no I have not read any emails today.”

“I thought Cora had a cold? Why do you need to take care of her?”

“Her cold turned into a head cold and she also developed a fever. She is a mess at the moment, especially with these developments. Her flight would have been booked, if she was not this sick.” Robert answered. “But I still do not understand why you say Cora is a threat?”

“With Cora at our office, Mama is losing her control over you. You will stand up for Cora’s ideas and less and less for Mama’s ideas.”

“Mama has to accept that there are other people with good ideas.”

“At the moment that is the least of our worries. We need to stop Mama and Martha. They managed to get this deal going, but they will also be capable of stopping everything again. What I have learned in these couple of months, is that Papa and Mr. Levinson are very much alike and they listen to their wives.”

“I have to think about what we can do. But one thing is very clear, Cora is not leaving. I like her too much and I need to know if there is more than a friendship.”

Rosamund chuckled. “You can focus on courting Cora, I will try and safe what I can.”

“I am not courting Cora. She is sick and needs someone to take care of her.”

“What ever you say my dear brother. What ever you say.”

Robert stared out over the river, what a disaster this had turned into. He was glad to finally understand why everything happened. It felt like he walked into a very bad movie, with a terrible plot. How could Violet and Martha do this? They used Cora, both of them did. He was curious to know what his mother told Martha to convince her to call Cora back home.

+++

Robert poured hot water in a big mug, put a tea bag and some honey in it and walked to Cora’s bedroom. There was no sound coming through the door, which meant she was still sleeping. As quietly as possible he opened the door and walked to where he saw her small figure under the covers.

While he put the mug down, he took the tea bag out. He stroked a curl out of Cora’s face. She was still feverish he felt. He hoped her fever had gone down after a couple of hours of sleep. But she had caught it badly. Not sure what to do, he sat down on the mattress. She had slept for a couple of hours now and if she slept longer, maybe she would not be able to sleep tonight. Was he going to wake her up?

He did not have to make that decision because Cora stirred. She blinked a couple of times and then she fully opened her eyes.

“You are still here?” Her voice cracked.

Robert helped Cora to put her pillow behind her back, while she sat up. Her hand went directly to the handkerchief that was lying next to her to blow her nose.

“I am going to make you dinner. I will put enough spices in, to get your stuffy nose to open up.”

Cora laughed. “Thank you for still being here. You did not have to do that.”

Robert took Cora’s free hand. “I am not going anywhere as long as you are feeling like this.”

Cora pulled her hand back and lowered her eyes. “I knew you were only here because you are feeling sorry for me.”

“You misunderstood.” Robert put his hand under Cora’s chin to make her look up. “There is only one reason why I am still here.” He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “And that reason is, that I like you very, very much.”

[mistresslrigtar]

Edited One-Shot - Snowy Recollections

So, I am procrastinating today, and instead of completing the first draft of my Zelink week 2023 Hylink story, Adore (which is so close to being done), I edited an older one-shot of mine that had some glaring verb tense inconsistencies. I also reworked the ending slightly, and I think the story is, overall, better for it.

If anyone is interested in reading or rereading the improved version, you can find it here on Ao3: Snowy Recollections

Excerpt:

Hebra is colder than an ice hinox's toenail, and Link hates it. Perhaps he has only been trekking through the tundra for a week searching for the fourteen shrines hidden in caves, behind drifts, or under icy overhangs that can only be reached by swimming in freezing water, but it feels like months. Some of those ancient Sheikah monks had a sick sense of humor, and it has gotten to the point that Link dreads hearing the Shrine sensor's ping on the Sheikah slate. He'd been relieved when it had fallen silent, and after spending an extra two days checking any locations that looked like potential shrine sites and tracking down a Stalhorse for a bossy lady he had met at the Snowfield Stable, he is sure he has cleared the area.

So, while he may have honed a few of his physical and mental abilities and learned a new trick or two in ways to use the Sheikah slate, he is disappointed he has not uncovered any new memories to add to the paltry few he has. Some small part of him had hoped his reward for nearly freezing to death would be another recollection to add to his mind's gaping, empty maw. During the day, when he is busy fighting monsters and figuring out the shrine puzzles, it is easy to forget that he has no idea who he is. But at night, when he sits shivering by a lonely campfire, he has nothing to do but sift through the blackness of his thoughts, trying to dredge up a spark of memory. He stares at the pictures left on the slate, hoping one will trigger something each time. It never happens; they remain merely pictures of landscapes, statues, and crumbling ruins without meaning. 

Meandering through the territories of Hyrule has been a frustrating and lonely experience thus far. It is sparsely populated, with civilization and beings that aren’t monsters, few and far between. When he had awakened just a few weeks ago to a desperate woman's voice begging him to wake up and rescue her, he'd spurred into action without a second thought. And the ghost of the old lumberjack nee King Rhoam, whom he had run into mere hours later, had also implored him to go on a quest to save the woman. Her name, Link discovered, was Zelda, and she also happened to be Rhoam's daughter and, therefore, a princess. A princess he can’t even remember depends on him to save her and her kingdom. 

So little information to go on, and they trust him with his addled brain to put together pieces of a puzzle that make little sense to him. Surely there is someone with all their cognitive abilities intact who is better suited for the job. He still has not figured out how he connects with this world, and some nights the task ahead of him seems so daunting he wonders if it is even worth it. Then guilt washes over Link, and a voice at the back of his head admonishes him for even entertaining the notion. He is not a quitter and may not remember much, but something deep inside tells him he never gives up, no matter how bad the odds may be stacked against him.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

If you’re feeling it, I’d love to see Matt Murdock with a cold being his fiesty vigilante self

So like... lowkey Matty is one of my faves to write and I'm thrilled I finally got an ask for him!!! Hope I did him justice, pun intended lol Also hope you don't mind a few other characters just for the sake of moving the plot along and dialog.

Fandom: Marvel Summary: It starts in court when Matt can't seem to keep his head on straight, coughing a little, but when he goes out for the night things just keep getting worse. Until a familiar someone really sends him home. CW: Threats of bodily harm, threat of contagion (none actually depicted, Matt is just a shit who likes to bark not bite in this) Word Count: 1.5k (I... got carried away ok?) Author Note: Hiya! Bit of a disclaimer, I am not blind and have never been blind. I'm just active in the disabled community and enjoy absorbing information from mutuals who are blind or self-identify as visually impaired. Matt's sensory stuff I base a bit more on my experiences with Autism since his senses are heightened. MINORS DNI

Court had been a wreck today and Matt just wanted to get back to the office. Normally, a courtroom was just one of those places where Matt could easily slip on the imaginary lawyer mask he’d crafted for himself from years of practice. Today was… not one of those days. He fumbled, his brain felt sluggish and hazy, he was tired, his throat itched, and he found himself reaching for his water more often than usual. Even pausing a few times during his closing speech to cough into a closed fist.

The feeling of Foggy’s concerned gaze burning into his back was unmistakable as he swept his cane back and forth along the smooth tile while walking briskly away from his law partner before he could say anything. Foggy was a wonderful friend but he was a worrier. In his rush to escape, the tip of his cane caught on something, and the handle jabbed him hard in the stomach making him grunt with the force.

“Matt.”

Oh, he knew that voice. The muscles of his jaw tensed, pressing his molars together a little more firmly before forcing a smile through the current discomfort marinating in his body. Nothing he wasn’t used to. “Karen? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you-” His breath caught on his ticklish throat, and he paused to cough downward into his fist before continuing. “Shouldn’t you be back at the office?”

Something like a sigh left her, “Well, I would be if Foggy hadn’t been texting me all through court that you were struggling and coughing, Matt.” She insisted, sounding concerned.

Even when not actively on high alert, Matt was always consciously hyperaware of his senses and surroundings whether he liked it or not. The moment Karen decided to lift her hand to press her cool palm to his forehead, Matt knew it was coming and braced himself not to lean into the touch. As much as he craved the sensation. Affection. And yet it burned. It was too much. He recoiled from it after a moment with another forced smile.

“Karen, I’m fine. Just a little cough. I’ll be fine after some sleep.” Matt said, figuring there was no sense in lying when he’d just coughed in front of her already. He sniffed, feeling his nose starting to run and that’s when the dread began to set in. A cough was fine, but congestion? That could screw him over for days.

Nelson was coming up behind him and carefully taking his arm so Matt lifted his cane up to let his best friend begin to guide him instead. “There’s a taxi waiting out front to take you home, man. Go get some rest. Actual rest. I’m serious, if I hear you’ve been out of bed, I’m coming to kick your ass. I mean it.”

So, Matt went home. Staying home was the last thing he was going to do if he was getting sick.

The moment Matt couldn’t feel the sun on his skin anymore, he left his apartment in his suit ready to leave a lasting impact for a few days just in case this cold left him worse for wear. Lucky for him it was a busy night and he’s never been so grateful that his cowl leaves his nose uncovered because once the cold night air hit his nose it was like the sneezes just wouldn’t stop.

“You’re trying my- HiD’tshUH! patience. So, I’ll ask again. Where’s the warehouse?” Matt rasps out, sounding exhausted and just utterly done with the man he’s got pinned to the brick wall before him.

The man, Tyler he’s learned is his name, sneers and spits what Matt can only assume is a mixture of blood and saliva onto his front. “Fuck you, man! I’m not tellin’ you shit! Go back to, mama, and play more dress up, freak!”

It’s getting dangerous to be out and Matt knows it. The shapes are swimming and blurring together in how he can “see”. Nothing is crisp and clear anymore because of the congestion settling in and muddling his senses. He sniffles a little to try and help it but it does nothing, if anything it makes it worse. Sure, Matt’s good, but he’s still blind. As in, almost no residual vision blind. Just the occasional bright light or neon makes it through. Tyler needs to talk and talk fast so Matt can finish up for the night and then find his way home.

A smirk curls at Matt’s lips, “Tyler,” He sniffles. “You tell me, or next time I sneeze I’m headbutting you so damn hard I’m sending one of these little horns on my helmet into your skull.” He threatens, nostrils flaring ever so slightly just below where the cowl ends. “Hihh… Shit…”

“You wouldn’t-” Tyler said uncertainly and while Matt was a little preoccupied with how his nose was itching and the way it was working deeper into his sinuses, he could still hear the uncertainty in the other’s voice.

Matt leaned his head back a little like he was gearing up to strike or sneeze or both in this case. “Bet I would. Fuck burns- hi’ihh… ihh!”

There was milliseconds to choose before suddenly the other man blurted out, “Fifty-second street down near the docks! Don’t hurt me anymore, man!” And with that, Matt let the other slump to the ground while he turned aside to sneeze against a gloved knuckle.

“HiPT’SHuh! Hit’shhuh! Hihh… huh… Ugh, fuck lost it.” Matt grumbles as the last sneeze escaped him, grimacing at the feeling of damp leather, nylon, and neoprene up against his sensitive cold ridden nose. The individual strands of the fabric he could still pick out and made his skin crawl just thinking about them. He shook himself off, able to hear Tyler’s running footsteps in the distance vaguely.

Getting to 52nd street was… a chore to say the least. Usually, running rooftops was no issue. Now, Matt felt unsteady. Unsure of himself. The congestion was getting worse and Matt’s ability to orient himself with it. Like being trapped underwater and not knowing which way was up and which way was down.

To top it all off, he’d begun to shiver and sweat which logically he knew meant he had a fever. Though he couldn’t be all that bothered to think too hard about it right now. Making it easier on himself, he’d cut the power to the warehouse to drench the place in darkness before going in. It set the men in a panic, a few knowing what was coming, and went running. Matt went for them first. The others he picked off slowly.

Heavy boot falls as he was dragging the unconscious men into the center of the warehouse making him freeze. He knew those steps, but God Almighty, that was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Hey, Red. You look like shit.”

A sigh that scraped his throat and to his irritation also seemed to rattle slightly in his chest, making him cough harshly before he could reply. “Fradk.” He rasped out. “Did I beat you to it for odce?”

Something like a scoff escaped Frank, “While sick too, looks like it. The fuck you doin’ out here, Red? You look ready to keel over. I knew you were some kinda masochist but nothing like this.”

That shocks a laugh out of Matt which only serves to make him double over with more coughs, pressing his gloved hand to his mouth and nose as he tries to reel it in. “Headi’g hobe after this. Probise. Just… deeded…” His voice is trailing off and with his cowl covering his face it’s impossible to tell that his eyelids are fluttering. His nostrils still flare though.

“HiD’TSHEW! EISHEW! Huh… d’no c’bod… hih-!” Matt rubs furiously at his nose with a gloved hand, very sure his nose is that same stupid red color Foggy always made fun of him for in college whenever he got sick. “Hixx’TSHEW! Shit-”

The half stifle makes him stumble in his off-balanced state and he nearly falls if not for the hand on his arm suddenly. “Go home, Red.” Frank’s voice is suddenly much closer, and Matt is alarmed at the fact that he hadn’t even heard or felt the other so much as move. “Call the cops. I’ll sit on the nearby rooftop, and make sure none of ‘em escape for you.”

Matt sniffles again, keeping his gloved hand pressed to his nose for a moment before giving up and dropping it. He’s too tired to care what he looks like and he’s pretty sure Frank has seen worse than a runny nose. Besides his nose is so blocked up he can barely even smell that cologne Frank usually wears, maybe letting it run will do him some good.

“D’no killi’g.” He instructs the other. “I kdow where you live. I’ll bake sure you catch this.” He threatens exhaustedly, dialing the cops before leaving Frank to watch over the scene while he heads home to claw his way out of his suit, shower, make tea, and pass out before work the next morning.

[radiation-risk]

Sudden Sickness - Chapter 6 - TRUE ENDING

Holy fuck. We’re ending 2023 today, and this story. There’s truly nothing that will compare the laughter I had when I got this idea. There will truly be no end to my suffering. This may be what I am known for. This probably is already how some people know me. Either way, it’s time.

TW for rabies, semi-accurate death, grieving depictions and a depiction of a burial! Wooooooo!

I might make a joke post with some end credits, so stick around for that. One last note though.

@a-narcissists-warren thank you so much for enabling me to write this absolute dumpster fire. For anyone unaware, they made a joke artpiece of Airy with rabies, so I said “I’ll write this”. Here we are, finishing that writing now. Enough rambling, though, we have to write Airy’s death!

Liam was sure that soon enough Airy would pass. He was sitting with Airy. He might not have liked Airy, and he’d be at risk of getting bit, but he still stuck with him. The last thing Liam would want was for Airy to be alone after all this time.

He tried to talk to Airy. “Airy, I know it’s rough. It’s going to be over soon. I hope you find me again if you are able.” He didn’t know if Airy would understand, or even hear him. Airy was at least laying down, albeit on the ground now.

Airy couldn’t think. All of his ability to was gone. The small amount of light was bright enough to light up the room as if there were four lightbulbs. He could see well. Liam’s words were just garbled ideas to him. He couldn’t hear good.

Airy was laying still. His heart was starting to beat slower as his brain started to finally fail. He started to breathe faster to try to get his heart going. His heart then started to speed up when his breathing increased. It was getting too fast.

Liam noticed what was happening. He couldn’t do anything, though. He started to sob. He couldn’t keep himself from doing so. After all, he had been with him the entire time. Thinking of the pain Airy must’ve been in, and how nobody could do anything about it was depressing, to say the least.

Airy’s heart still beat too fast. It kept increasing too. His vision started to glaze over with colors. The pain was big, and then… nothing. Airy’s heart stopped in a near instant, his eyes glazing over with the look of death.

Liam looked over, but he barely could. It was too much. He kept crying. He just saw the man he’d have as his only companion, possibly for forever, for five months they’d gotten to know each other, die. Airy was undoubtedly dead. Liam ran outside, sobbing. Running over to the cave, he started to talk to the contestants.

“I have horrible news,” he sniffled before continuing, “Airy has-” he couldn’t even say he had died. The contestants knew, and a sense of grief fell upon them all. After around three minutes, a contestant asked a question. “Can we go home? Do you even know how?” Another spoke against the other’s words. “We all should stay. Liam needs more support than ever now.”

The contestants started pondering what they could do to comfort Liam. Liam was still crying. It was all he could do for the next hour, before debating how to handle Airy’s corpse. He took the next few moments asking the contestants for advice. They decided on a burial, albeit a short one.

He started to take a flat stone attached to a stick because of an indent, and dug a hole. It was a rough hole, but it was a hole. It was around the size of Airy. He walked into the cabin, seeing Airy’s motionless corpse where it was left. He started to lift him off the ground. The last 5 months of gathering wood really helped him to carry Airy to the grave.

He did his best to place Airy in the hole he had dug gently. It was sorrowful, and the last thing Liam said was “I hope you do well again.”

[gillianthecat]

.

punishing myself/avoiding Tasks (punishing myself for and by avoiding Tasks)* by binging Extra-ordinary You, a 2019 high school romcom kdrama. started watching because Lee Jae Wook is sooo beautiful and compelling in Alchemy of Souls and I was curious to see him in something else. And I don't know if it's that I was already primed to like him but he is by far the most charismatic actor on the set. his character is asshole with hidden depths and tragic backstory, and he is making those hidden depths way to deep and upsetting the balance of the love triangle. which isn't even really a love triangle but he's making me want it to be. it doesn't help that the main actor comes across as so incredibly bland and forgettable. some of that is the character, but like also it just feels like there's nothing happening behind the eyes there. whereas Lee Jae Wook has so much going on in his head at all times and is simply on fire.

also i would actually be interested in the story of kyung and dan oh falling in love in spite of being written to fall in love and rebelling against that. he's to much of an asshole to make that story work, but with some slight tweaks it could have been great. sigh. i suspect the Haru romance will continue to be fairly dull despite some interesting premises.

mostly i'm still watching to find out the deal with the dried shrimp fairy. who honestly i think should have been given the lead as they have a similar "look" but that actor can actually act.

i also enjoyed the supposed "main" love story. i hate hate hate bully romance, but i am entertained by awkward rich assholes being totally flustered by falling in love and this comic book premise gave it enough distance that i could enjoy Nam Ju. Props also to that actor for making it work. (My Beautiful Man being of course another (and far superior) path to making this story work)

Maybe I just don't like sweet guys? Who am I kidding, I've long known i don't like purely sweet (fictional) guys. they need a little bite to them to compel me.

It also makes me appreciate much more the work that Seo Yul's actor is doing in Alchemy of Souls—another sweet devoted character played by a pretty idol actor, but he's got me riveted every second he's on screen. Some of that is the inherent tragedy of his role, but Haru has a tragic side (though I'm genre-trusting he'll get his happy ending) so I think it's just that Seo Yul has a better actor.

*the mid semester adhd breakdown finally hit, starting Wednesday. I was really hoping a could avoid it but then i ran out of clean underwear and needed to do laundry and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. also i was supposed to do thanksgiving with my family and even though it was a very small low key casual thing i'm finding I couldn't face bring around people at all. maybe i should go do that thing that's a week late. which is like 90% done and it's so stupid I haven't finished it but it was originally late because i was sick and then I just felt more and more angst about it being late. Of course i am still coughing and today was the first day with no digestive issues, so that doesn't help. On the other hand in good news we did get 100% on our presentation Tuesday. i was completely exhausted Tuesday night but I survived. mentally i feel like i'm on another planet right now and i know i will get back eventually but it's always a question of just how long it will take to get there. not sure that this makes any sense or I want to expose the ramblings of my broken brain but sure why not.

[motsimages]

Well, I'm going to start stretching my brain this morning with some thoughts I had yesterday due to whatever the fuck is happening with my body lately and the medication I'm taking.

I guess and hope there is research on this, if I'm thinking about it after a couple of bad days, scientists and doctors should have at least considered the possibility, but it is worth a thought out loud anyways for the masses.

It's basically two things: 1) metabolism and calory burn when you are sick and 2) medication and its association with different molecules of your body that can affect its effect.

Sometimes when you are sick, you are weak and cannot move much or do much and you are also not hungry and it makes sense. But sometimes you are very hungry. It could be the anxiety of the bedridden experience, but couldn't it be that a body in pain and healing is actually working extra work? Like maybe you are there like "how am I so tired and hungry, I've done nothing today?" when in reality your body is climbing the fucking Everest and well, the metabolism is following along. Like maybe walking 10 km is not as exhausting or demanding to the body than certain recoveries (imagine a big surgery, for instance).

Some medications, if you read what they are made of or the molecules they have, they suddenly include terms like "fat-soluble" or "glucose something" and while it may be just a thing, I'm guessing that if a drug bonds with fat molecules, it may actually require fat to work better, or worse, and if you eat fat foods while you take the medication it can improve or worsen the experience, depending on the bond. You know, kind of like "don't eat grapefruit with this because it reduces the effect". Like, these days I've been craving meat, but also yesterday I suddenly took some candy and ended up devouring a full bag of candy and started feeling that my brain fog dissipated. And I wonder if it is because the medication I'm taking drains my glucose levels maybe and so it could be advisable to not only say "take these pills" but also "and as much sugar as you can for as long as the treatment works because you'll need it".

I understand that sometimes it all requires an extra effort on the part of the patient, and that not everyone can do it. But I feel like doctors sometimes just prescribe medication as the magical solution (which is also what many people want, let's all be fair here) with little to no explanation as to what the drug really is or how to make the best of it. Sure, it has the list of side effects, if you don't feel well you'll check it. But the general info is still not reaching people.

I am more or less interested in medicine and drugs, I want to know what I'm taking and I check it but even I struggle to understand some of the things because well, I'm not a chemist. But some general idea of the drugs you are taking should always be included when they give them to you. "Take this, it will help with the swelling and the pain. Know that it is actually a hormone derivated drug and that it takes energy from the cells that carry fat/sugar/vitamin, so make sure to get an extra supply of that these days". People would also understand better the changes and the expectations, I feel.