#having very normal thoughts about the hyperfixation before bed as you can see

[residentinsomniacartist]

wait wait wait guys have you ever thought about how the Mighty Nein are everything they shouldn’t be upon first glance

no no guys guys listen to me they’re all the antithesis of what they’re meant to be and that’s why they’re such amazing and heartfelt characters

like, Caleb is a wizard who’s afraid of his own fire magic. his own power causes him to falter in battle. his strongest spells are his most dangerous to himself. wizards are supposed to be prideful of their magic, but Caleb’s is the reason he hates himself

Beau is a monk who never wanted to be. her job is one that people normally associate with being calm and collected and Beau was a wild rebellious kid who got dragged into this line of work against her will. she never wanted to be this!! but now she is and she’s gotta deal with it!!

Fjord is a warlock who never wanted power from his pact, which is why you’d think a warlock would make their pact at all. but no. Fjord made his pact because he wanted to live, not because he wanted power. he was a scared orphan who hated his tusks, not a buff, muscled, angry half-orc like people assumed

Nott is NOT, that’s the whole crux of her narrative! she wasn’t pretty, like a halfling girl was supposed to be. she wasn’t a goblin, she was just transformed into one. and not only that, but despite being a three-foot-tall alcoholic kleptomaniac, she’s the mom of the group!

Jester is a Cleric whose god isn’t actually a god and who would much rather bash bad guys over the head with her lollipop than have to stop and heal her friends!! she’s a bubbly, optimistic ray-of-sunshine, but you know when she says she’s gonna change the world with friendship she means it as a threat

Mollymauk is an amnesiac, but he doesn’t want to remember who he was. if you ask him, that wasn’t him! he might be a flirtatious hedonistic carnie, but he’s also single-mindedly devoted to making the world a better and more loved place than it was when he found it. he’s a liar, but he means well. he’s an arrogant fool, yes, but he’s right! he did it! he left it better!

Caduceus seems like he’d be creepy and grim from growing up in a graveyard, but he’s actually the most chill out of the entire Nein by far. he’s calm, he’s sweet, and he’s comforting, more than anything else. you’d think he’d be amazed by seeing the outside world for the first time, but he spends the whole time knowing that one day he’ll return home, that he wasn’t supposed to be the one to leave

Yasha is a barbarian with skeletal wings and a dramatic, monochromatic look, but she’s a complete sweetheart. she’s Molly’s best friend, she was a carnival bouncer, she’s a lesbian disaster who collects pressed flowers in a book out of love for the wife she lost. those black wings were actually hiding soft white feathers

Essek was born straight into the den of politics, he was a spymaster, he literally started a war for his own gain, and yet. he’s sounds irredeemable on paper, but. he’s not!! sure, the Nein kind of have to drag his alignment kicking and screaming into neutral, but they manage it. Essek learns and grows and he overcomes his nature. he becomes good, against all odds

guys guys guys don’t you see it!! look at them!!they’re such compelling characters!! they’re everything they’re not supposed to be!! dude y’all how didn’t I realize this earlier!! they subvert their narratives in the most interesting ways ever and I justhshsbhshshsjnsmshsnhsfn!!

[nilboxes]

Light cone art so powerfully homoerotic someone (me) furiously pumped out a 6k word fic in 2 days. They're going to kill me. 🔗 : AO3

Extensive notes/ramblings below!

-

I have not recovered from the mental power I had to pool to write this lmao I couldn't do anything at work except figure these two out and why Aventurine looked so BESOTTED but the absence of the little white dots in his eyes in the light cone and in the leaked models made him look like there's such an edge to him (someone on twitter pointed out that he has no light in his eyes!) and it really fanned the flames like what the fuck is this GUY ON and why is it directed at Dr. Ratio LMAO (I mean why not Ratio is so pretty)

So then I thought, there is NO WAY Ratio is going to react surprised or scared for Aventurine he's going to be ANNOYED lmao. There are possibly 2 more chances in that cylinder before it's 100% in there and I was looking at the probabilities on Wikipedia and I was laughing at myself at how a gay ship was going to make me STUDY probability when I hated this type of stuff in university and I was like yeah Ratio will probably be like hey, you can't stop there, and pulls twice lmao

And I was thinking they would make eyes at each other homoerotically while doing so because wow sexual tension so potent you can taste it through the screen in the LC art and everything just went from there I really cannot get over how Aventurine seems so... sooooooo in love with Ratio and in my head Ratio is like this man is insane what is he on but he gets a taste of that and it's like wow it's actually a little good but Ratio is also cautious so he won't ride that wave too hard but Aventurine looks really down bad for a man who seems like he doesn't care

So initially I really wanted to wait until Aventurine came out before I start my hyperfixation train because we know so little about him other than key facts I have formed in my head-- -he's perpetual smiler (confirmed by a leak of the loading screen blurbs) and like, idk from his design it just suits him and even in his voice cameo with Topaz his VA sounds like they are smiling while they are talking ALLL the time idk at least I got this one right -mr gambling gambler who is very self-assured about his luck, mr smug man. when I wrote he'd win 99.9-0.1 he believes this and if he dies I think to him it would just mean his time's up for realsies anyway and whatever idk man is not very sane -there's some really weird leaks and I'm not sure if it's confirmed but he was invited to be a Masked Fool which made him ALLL the more interesting for me because as a Sampo Mr Scammer fan it doesn't mean if he joins the Masked Fools he wouldn't be able to amass money but this guy seems to really like the thrill being an IPC senior manager provides then which is like this guy is a lives fast dies young kinda guy -I HC from that neck tattoo he could have been an indentured servant (cough slave cough) or a prisoner of some kind, but eitherway it says he wasn't privileged in any sense of the word but the way his character design is so decked out in rings gold watches and even a bracelet it means he's climbed very far, so he is an ambitious man, lots of "material pleasures" as Dr Ratio puts it in my fic and he still wants more. That kinda guy makes for a very intense lover imo very "I get what I want" type, and I really wanted to balance that with his attraction to Dr Ratio and how he doesn't want to drive Dr Ratio away with his crazy but he's also very horny... Anyway I also totally underestimated his height difference with Dr Ratio I really should have pulled up that leak of them side by side but ahh being a short king dom top is so cute on him

As for Dr Ratio I really cannot see him top unless Aventurine power bottoms why but he's so "diligent" in all aspects but I see him being a pillow princess in bed

I also feel a little bad that I wasn't able to write more bickering between the two of them but I also feel like the normally talkative Dr Ratio keeps HIGH HIGH walls around Aventurine because it's hard to tell what this guy is thinking so he's thinking so hard trying to make sense of it all and he says little as not to give away anything that might be wrong

I feel like adding "all is fair in love and war" in Latin omina iusta sunt amore belloque was a little gratuitous but I also want to subtly sprinkle in that Aventurine is so obsessed with Ratio, so down bad for him, that he reads stuff about Dr Ratio a lot enough to come across a translation of the quote and I'm like no yeah way Ratio can deal with crazy-eyed Aventurine saying/declaring love while he's still computing the electric exchange they had so he's definitely like picking up on Aventurine's obsession/infatuation with him and he's like NOPE DON'T SAY IT and would rather kiss him to shut him up than hear it lmao

I honestly despaired at how I was going to start closing the scenes because it was like nighttime and I wanted to finish it already because they're killing me, so like, making Ratio fall asleep while Aventurine pours his heart out (I asked a friend who read it what he thought Aventurine said and they got it spot on so I figure it was conveyed properly on my end and I was really proud of this bit) seemed like a cute way to do it. The narration lied, Dr Ratio heard it but he got selective hearing and totally did NOT want to reply/acknowledge it. Poor Aventurine, but it's not as if he won't try again

I have waaay more ideas about them and I wonder if I can hold off until Aventurine releases or we get more crumbs idk but I want to write some kuudere Ratio (with a bit of tsun hehe)

Special mentions other than the lightcone art that fueled me: this art from Twitter that and this post that kinda made me think long and hard...

[weskin-time]

Jill or Carlos with a S/O that has autism or ADHD? Listening intently to their partners rants and rambles about their hyperfixations or stimming with them when they get too excited or their emotions get too strong

YES! i am on the spectrum so this made me so fucking happy to write you have no idea

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira with an Autistic S/O HCs

i am. on pain medication from getting my wisdom teeth out today so im sorry if anything makes no sense or there are errors i am just vibing

Jill Valentine

she keeps a pair of ear plugs in her pockets when you two go anywhere just incase

loves to hear you infodump and stim after shes had a rough day. just loves to unwind at home while listening to your voice

and she’ll nod her head, hum in agreement and ask questions when you’re talking. never in a ‘im not fully listening’ she actually loves to see your eyes light up and the happy expression on your face when you talk about a hyperfixation or special interest

she was a little confused when you first visually stimmed but instead of asking you she just followed your movements which made you even more excited

if you get too excited about something where you’re starting to hyperventilate and you feel like you’re going to explode she will open the bedroom door and make you wiggle around on the bed. full body stim so good good yes

will get you little trinkets or gifts from the things you’re obsessed about to show how much she listens and cares

doesn’t mind cooking you your samefood over and over again, it gives her a chance to brush up on her cooking skills plus she loves to cook with you (she kinda sucks at it but it’s okay i love her so much *smooch*)

if you’re starting to get overstimulated in public she quickly learns the early signs and tries to get you away, or you could just tell her “i’m starting to get overstimulated here” and you’re out of wherever you’re at instantly. she can come back another time if there’s something she needs

she keeps every rock, flower, marble or what ever you bring her. she has old police books with pressed flowers you gave her, the rocks are in a jewelry box.

when you start to freak out and have a breakdown she’s sorta at a loss to help but in a split second she runs and grabs your weighted blanket and puts it around your shoulders while getting you your favorite drink. it all depends on you and how you deal but she’s quick to make adjustments

non verbal moments? she will help you make little cards to show your wants and needs and other information.

angry? ripped your shirt in anger? banged your head against a wall? tore some hair out? she will try to help you calm down as best she can and then patch you up. she’ll take safety pins and pin your shirt. she’ll give you an ice pack and some pain relief medicine. she gives you kisses

don’t like a certain texture? boom it’s gone. if you feel it still even after you’ve touched it she’ll bring you your favorite texture

loves it when you sit on her lap and rub your face on her like a cat. she will join you in the face rubbing

food textures you don’t like? give them to her she’ll eat them. don’t like mushrooms bc they’re squishy and weird and make you want to punch a man? she’ll give you a tiny fork to pick them off your pizza and she’s putting it on hers

Carlos Oliveira

he’s an adhd haver

autism and adhd solidarity

when he washes his hair it’s so soft and fluffy and thick that you could sit there and pet his head and rub your fingers thought it for hours. he doesn’t mind at all. he’s sitting there almost purring like a cat

vocal stim echo chamber

y’all can make sounds or words over and over again and just keep bouncing them off each other for hours no matter what you’re going

his beard is also very soft. he keeps very good care of his appearance so it’s not like super scratchy it’s a very good texture please rub your face against it once or twice before kissing his nose

this man can’t cook for shit. normally it’s take out. most of the time y’all develop a samefood at the same restaurant so you two must order the same place for weeks and just get the same food

WILL LAY ON YOU AND CRUSH YOU WITH HIS WEIGHT.!! he loves cuddles so much and now he’s getting cuddles and helping you? his new favorite cuddling position is him laying on top of you while you run your finger through his hair

He’s the one who goes into places and talks to the workers there for you if you need him too. want to order lunch but feeling not up for it to order? tell him what you want he’s got you <3

non verbal moments? he talks enough for the both of you honestly. he knows sign language so you two could take that way or he’ll use cards too. if you text him he will read out your text before responding lol

pillow fort movies/tv show/ video game nights. filled with all that good sensory shit and your favorite snacks and his.

he stims with you. every time. it’s involuntary on his part.

more than likely there is one texture he loves that you hATE. you hate velvet? the first time you come over to his place he had a velvet blanket on his bed.

stocks the fridge with his and your favorite food textures. he likes pudding and cottage cheeses textures

he’s better at preventing meltdowns or breakdowns before they happen than helping you during the act

you two bring each other things. he picked up his paperclip to throw it away but he gained emotional attachment to it and he’s giving it to you bc he doesn’t want to loose his new friend. has all the thing you give him in a shoebox under his bed for safe keeping

one of his favorite stims is running his callused hands up and down your softer skin at a medium pace. he starts out slow before speeding up a bit more. just placing his hand on your body and running it down before picking it up and putting it where he first started. loves if you do a ‘cat making biscuits’ stim on his body while he does that to you

[bisexualchrissycunningham]

hellcheer for the ship asks!!! 💗

SO glad you asked, buddy! As usual, I have so much to say lol.

when I started shipping it if I did: The forest scene of course!!! It changed lives. Her quick death was a punch to the gut though and it took until I finished Volume 1 and was on Tumblr looking through tags that I started thinking more deeply about them. I joined a discord server a few weeks later and the hyperfixation was in full effect. 

my thoughts: They’re soulmates and that’s that.

what makes me happy about them: I don't know how to word this in the way I want to, cause I don't want it to be a "they complete each other" thing BUT they each have these personality traits and skills that the other lacks and it's just so complementary of them, you know? She's quiet and reserved and sad but stubbornly hopeful and optimistic about people, while Eddie is boisterous and feeds off attention and is cynical about the world yet softened so immediately in Chrissy's presence. They give each other things they need but could never find before they found each other. 

what makes me sad about them: They're canonically dead. Eddie could never save her in the way he wished he could. They never got to do ketamine together and kiss a lil.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I'm always nervous to answer questions like this, but here is one of my big secrets: I hate when Eddie calls Chrissy Chris. I have such a firm headcanon that Eddie knew it's what Jason called her, and he specifically avoided it because of that. His reasons are twofold: cause he connects the nickname with the way Chrissy always shrunk herself in Jason's presence, and cause of some inner neanderthal instinct that makes him wanna avoid anything to do with the love of his life's ex. It's inevitable that the first time he calls her that in any fic, in my head, I hear it in Jason's voice from the time he said in on the show and it always takes me out of the fic. It's not something that will make me stop reading at all, but it's definitely a mental block where I actually have to work to imagine it the way it's intended.

things I look for in fanfic: 

Fastburn! I can do slowburn of course, but my idea of Hellcheer is that they fall so fast and so deep that it's what makes the most sense. 

Chrissy developing strong female friendships in the background is super important to me.

In future fics, Eddie being super content and fulfilled having a normal non-rock star life in my absolute jam.

Super emotionally charged character-driven sex.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: No one else. I can play around with Chrissy having a few other relationships with Kali, Eden or Robin, and Eddie having a lil thing with Jonathan when they were younger, but I don’t believe either of them could or would ever love anyone like they do each other, and they would never be fulfilled in a relationship with anyone else.

my happily ever after for them: There are so many potential happily ever afters for them! Honestly, anything that involves Chrissy healing and finding herself, Eddie making peace with the chip on his shoulder and finding a way to feel like he's enough just as he is, and them having many years to know and love each other.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Just due to their literal bodies, Chrissy is usually the little spoon, but she loves switching it up and holding him in her lap. It comforts them both.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Playing music & writing songs together after Chrissy has learned to play guitar. Talking in bed when they're both falling asleep but they've been too busy to connect very much lately so they're both trying hard to stay awake and give themselves a moment together. Eddie loves cooking for Chrissy (she likes giving him kisses while he's doing it). Making up outrageous life stories about strangers they see in public. Chrissy loves pranking Eddie cause he never sees it coming. I know this was supposed to be just 1 favorite activity but they love doing ALL the things together, ok????

[rebuketheviolent]

I was instructed to ask, so: who is timmy

fair disclaimer that this is LONG and the purpose of this is mostly just to make you want to chase me with a bat

so little timmy, about like 8 or so, REALLY loves tractors, and by love i mean loves. kid has a hyperfixation on them- his bed's a tractor bed, he has little models in his room of tractors, he has them painted on his walls, his relatives give him tractor magazines for birthdays and holidays and shit.

timmy happens to be reading the paper one day and reads about a tractor convention coming to town, and he fucking RUNS to his dad and BEGS him to take him to the tractor convention as he is 8 and cannot drive himself to the tractor convention. now, his dad loves him very much, but he's a single father not making the best money and it's a pricey convention, so he strikes timmy a deal- he will take him to the tractor convention and pay for the ticket if timmy gets a job and pays for part of it himself.

being that timmy is 8, about all he can do is a paper route or mowing people's lawns, and since he knows SO much about tractors, lawnmowers are like a step down, and he opts to go from door to door offering to take care of their lawns. he happens to knock on one old man's door, and upon hearing his offer, explains that he doesn't have it in him anymore to maintain his lawn. so if little timmy takes care of all his lawn care, he will pay an Actual Good Wage and shit.

it doesn't take much time before timmy's saved up his half of the ticket money. and timmy's dad, being a man of his word, agrees to pay for part of the ticket and drives him to the convention.

the SECOND they get there timmy's like okay dad? i cannot let you see me like this. i am going to go beast mode over these tractors. and dad is understandably reluctant but the man can only take so many accusations of ableism before he relents and waits outside the convention center for timmy with the promise that he check in every half hour over text or so and let him know he's okay. he buckles in for a long wait, but it's not even 15 minutes before timmy's back out and looks like all the wind went out of his sails. and dad pulls him aside and is like hey are you okay? did something happen? and timmy's like no, it just wasn't as fun as i thought, can we just go home? and when they get back, timmy takes down all of his tractor models, and throws out his magazines, and he even asks for a normal bedframe. everyone's concerned, but no one wants to push it with him.

a few years pass. the tractors stay gone- he goes so far to hide the fact that the hyperfixation existed to his new girlfriend- but timmy remains friends with the old man.

timmy's walking back from school with his girlfriend one day when she points out a plume of smoke in the sky, and they meander over in the general direction of it to see what's going on. and when they get there, he realizes he knows this place- this is the old man's house that he did lawn care for a few years back for the convention ticket. timmy bounds away from his girlfriend, past the firefighters who yell for him to get back, and inhales as hard as he can.

and like, really hard. like everyone is staring at this kid's lung capacity hard. like he starts sucking all the oxygen away from the fire and removing the smoke. the firefighters see a window of opportunity, and spot the old man unharmed under a doorframe, darting in and saving him from getting burned thanks to timmy's quick breath.

the old man is obviously incredibly grateful and happy to see timmy again, and they have a good hug and reunion. and he asks timmy he doesn't mean to be rude, or anything, but how did he manage to do what he did back there?

and timmy goes "oh it's nothing. i'm just a big ex-tractor fan."

[tfw-adhd]

I am not diagnosed but I'm trying to see if I have adhd, doing as much research as I can. Problem is I'm 17, a girl and woc and from what I've been seeing, it seems almost impossible to get a diagnosis. I was hoping you could help me. God, this is way too long I'm really sorry to bother you. You don't have to answer if yoh don't want to

Some of the symptoms I feel like I may be experiencing are:

1. Hyperfixations: the most recent one I can think of is star wars, specifically one ship. I got into it in April 2020 and boy, I am obsessed for the lack of a better word. I literally of it when I wake up, when I go to bed and all the moments in between.

I (this is embarrassing omg) literally didn't attend a single class this year because I can't stop thinking of that ship enough to focus. I have an exam today, and I still can't stop reading fics or scrolling through ship twitter instead of preparing. Maybe I'm just lazy? Idk man I don't even have friends so idek what is normal and what is not anymore.

And I seemed to have hyperfixations throughout my life. It was Percy Jackson till 9th grade. Then AOT till 11th. And before that, dinosaurs and science of all things. I would literally buy notebooks to write science and dinosaur facts in. I only have one thing i am attached to for months at a time. To the point where if people ask me what fandoms I like I can't even give more than two or three because that's all I consume. I can't watch another show or read another book without feeling like I'm somehow cheating on star wars lmaoo

2. Focus is a big thing. I don't have it. I remember with physical exams I would have to stop in between because the focus would slip away, and I'd just spend a good ten minutes staring at my paper not taking anything in because my thoughts are too loud. With Internet exams, I'm more accustomed to having tumblr, twitter and reddit open for when I inevitably lose focus. Studying is a struggle. Fuck that, reading is a struggle. Often not able to get past one or two sentences without immediately feeling irritated (?) Not the right word but I can't think of anything to describe the fuzziness in my brain.

I daydream a lot in physical class and while eating and watching movies. And when I try to sleep. And when I'm in waiting rooms or trying to study. Literally everywhere to the point where I often forget they're in my head.

3. I am very forgetful. Fuck, i forgot what the things on this list are. I forgot to take my medicines. I forget what I'm saying half way through the sentence. Literally a pain in my ass.

4. Idk if this just stress or something else, but ever since I was a child I would suck my thumb (still do), bite my nails, pick at my skin and hair. I would pull my hair and eyelashes qnd eyebrows. Rubs my skin. Scratch till it's bleeding. I feel very horrible if I don't do it.

5. Xakwdlkdkalkdadkod I literally can not remember I had a whole list figured out and I can't remember it anymore because I got distracted in between oh god.

6. Oh wait, restlessness. Always shaking my legs or ripping up tissue or tapping my fingers, picking at my body or sucking my thumb. Anything to keep my occupied. Without any sort of physical activity i feel very fuzzy. Like somethings not right.

7. I've heard about rsd and idk if this is it but I'm literally the type of person to overexplain and apologise quickly even if the other person gave no indication of being hurt.

My mother could ask me how my studies are going and I get very defensive and angry because I feel like she's trying trying imply I'm not studying enough even though that's not her intent.

I'm sorry for going on for too long. I hope you can help me figure out if this is normal or not. Thank you so much and I hope you and your family are safe, healthy and happy.

Unfortunately, you’re right that it’s harder for both girls and POC to get ADHD diagnoses. Even though both sexes show equal numbers of people with ADHD, it goes under-diagnosed in AFAB individuals.

But everything you just described sounds exactly like ADHD, yeah. The Neurotypical brain doesn’t fixate on things like that (not to the point of skipping loads of classes and it being all they can think about, anyway.)

And the one about sucking your thumb sounds like stimming, something neurodivergent people do.

[the-adhd-society]

Hello beautiful people !

I wanted to share with you a wall chart that i have been using that has helped a lot.

I am semi recently unemployed and the lack of structure makes it very difficult to get things done.

This is a specific chart that i saw randomly and i cannot remember what it is actually called. Something with a k I think but i am not sure.

If you know please let me know.

I broke down all my tasks into four houses.

1)home/life stuff: dishes, laundry, shopping etc

2)health: doctors apt follow ups etc

3) job stuff: applications,cover letters follow ups.

4) and organization that i volunteer with.

Each task is written on 1/3. A post it note

Everything i need to do fits into one of these houses. Once i have my task and i know where it belongs it goes into the "parking lot"

The parking lot is where everything starts. It says " this is something i need to do but I don't know when yet"

Every night before i go to bed i will look at my parking lot and move two or three things to the next block that says

"Working on it today" ... Which means when i wake up i have three or four clear cut goals that i need to accomplish.

Once they are done i put them in the the done category.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE.

I am food and stuff motivated. So each time i complete a task i take it out of the done block and move it to my rewards chart.

Each task is work .50. I have 10 spaces which totals $5. As a treat i will spend my reward money at $5 below. ( it is like 20 blocks away so i wouldn't go there normally).

Once my chart gets filled i put the finished tasks in a mason jar and write the amount on a small post it note.

WHY DOES IT WORK:

it is simple and clear. I know my taks for the day, i know my reward. I get dopamine by moving my task from one box to the done block and again when it is moved to the star chart.

it's ALL VISUAL. I'm not relying on any memory. Everything is there.

IT IS ALWAYS CHANGING: you have to move things everyday. You can't ignore it that way. If you notice that you are ignoring it, change the color of the post its or write down smaller tasks so you can complete them quicker.

It's yours

There is no shame involved. I have tried using other systems created by nt ppl and it didn't work. If it didn't fit Exactly to my needs it was just frustrating or difficult to work with. Then i would feel bad for not being successful.

This system teaches you how to listen and work with your brain. I had to push aside what society told me organization and lables "should" look like. I pushed aside what i "should" be able to do on my own or that a rewards chart for motivation is childish.

Everything on the wall is what my brain needed and everything has a purpose and a space.

Some tips:

1) add what your brain needs and keep it simple. I wanted to add bells and whistles and color code and make times of day. If you NEED all of that do it. But you are setting up a system for your brain to be successful. If there is too much to do. Your brain might just shut down.

2) if you didn't finish a task at the end of the day, put it back in the parking lot. There is no shame in not getting things done here. Look at why it wasn't done and go from there.

3) if a task get returns back to the parking lot undone three times, adjust the task. Break it down into two or three. I needed to call a doctor but it was too much of a task. I broke it down to research, contact (email) and then call.

4) if a task can't be broken down, add more value to it. Each of my tasks is worth .50. If i can't get something "simple" done. I'll make it .75 or a dollar. It's my money and it's my system.

I'm overwhelmed how do i start

1) think about how your brain works this is about working with your brain

2) what will your "houses" be ? : school,job,home ? Chores,social,house,family ? Kids,home,work,me ? What are your four big areas.

3) what is the wording you will use ? What makes the most sense ? To do, doing , done ? Want to do, gonna do,finished ? Make it fun.

If you got this far thank you for reading about my hyperfixation i would love to hear or see what you all have done and if you know what this style is called please tell me. I thought i saved the name.

[adraughtofamortentia]

hello, so i’ve written my very first fan fic!! an idea came to live in my head rent free while watching this scene in a cdrama and i just had to write it. its also posted to ao3 here! shoutout to my bestie & beta @thatweirdgirljess, your enthusiasm for my hyperfixations keeps me going~~~

fandom: ancient detective, pairing: jian buzhi x zhao wohuan (m/m), lengh: 2,883

title: you’re my warm heart in a cold world

As evening grew into proper night, Zhao and Jian had retired to their room in the Yiyuan Inn. After the chaotic events of the day the quiet and comfort of each other's company was most welcome. Zhao had stripped down to his black underclothes and settled into a light practice of some of Second Master Li’s sword techniques. As he swung his sword arm, without the actual sword in hand, through the various arcs the book depicted he could feel his freshly stitched wounds on his arms and thigh sting in protest. It was easily ignored though, and Zhao found he appreciated the reminder of why he needed to keep up with his training schedule. 

Being reminded of his wounds prompted Zhao to recall how he came to sustain them, the reason why he had fought so valiantly. The person he fought to protect.

Without stopping the motions of his empty handed sword arm, Zhao looked out of the corner of his eye across the room at Jian. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, also dressed down to his own white undershirt, and seemed to be engrossed with some reading. Gently clutching the book, Jian had his head bowed over the scripture. For all appearances he seemed to be reading deeply, however Zhao also saw that he was continuously fiddling with the corner of one of the pages between his fingers and had not appeared to turn the page in some time. Recognizing the posture as one of Jian’s thinking poses, Zhao leaves him to his thoughts and returns his focus back to his practice.

Pausing his swings and glancing back down at his own book, Zhao takes note of the formation he’s practicing one more time and adjusts himself back into the first pose of the sequence.

As he practiced he continued to think about his battle earlier that day. He could still remember the fear gripping him as the assailant dressed in black relentlessly took shots at Jian. After pulling several quick moves to keep Jian mostly out of harm’s way, Zhao could put the rest of his focus on attacking the masked assailant. At the time he hadn’t actually even felt the wounds being inflicted on him. It wasn’t until after the fight was over that he even registered the cuts and their pain, too focused on thoughts of “protect Jian-ge” and trying to recall his newly acquired sword skills.

Even though he was empty handed now, Zhao felt like he could still hear the clash of metal against metal as his short broadsword met the dual swords in the hands of their attacker. It took several quick maneuvers to both block the attacks and keep Jian out of the way. Every time one of those swords came close to Jian, Zhao felt something in his chest tighten. Too close, he remembers thinking more than once.

After dealing his opponent a well aimed blow, and the attacker finally fleeing with the assistance of his female partner, Zhao’s pain was still merely a second thought as Jian came out from his hiding place. He thinks back to those few moments of pride where he felt success at fending off the villain and protecting his damsel- companion! He means his companion, and sworn brother. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“Zhao, when did you become so good?” Jian had exclaimed, rushing over from his hiding place behind the screen to the warrior who was still holding his final battle stance.

However, when this didn’t get any reaction out of Zhao, Jian called him again “Zhao?”

Thinking the silence was Zhao pulling his typical tricks into getting complimented on his increasing skills and finesse as a hero, Jian teases his companion. 

“Although you are great, you don’t need to pose for so long.” This finally prompts the swordsman to stand out of his pose, laughing as he replies “I’m enjoying being a hero!”

Smiling at his heroic, albeit silly, companion, Jian points out “You’re quite humble, Zhao.”

“I’m an expert, of course I have to be humble!” comes Zhao’s quick reply, striking a pose with his sword on display atop his shoulder to emphasize his point. His joy is short lived though as Jian suddenly says “Zhao, you’re bleeding!”

Disbelief fills Zhao, “An expert won’t bleed, Jian-ge!” But he looks down to the areas that Jian is pointing out across his body, and why yes there are indeed several spots where blood has seeped through his clothing. 

Zhao notes the rising panic in Jian’s voice just as his body finally registers the wounds and their pain. To cover up both the way his heart warms at the care apparent in Jian’s voice and the rising feeling of pain overcoming his body, Zhao begins laughing a little too loudly for the situation. The last thing he remembers is the feeling of Jian’s arms coming around his body as he falls forward into him and the awaiting darkness.

……………………………………………………………………………………….........

Zhao lingers in these thoughts, and the treatment he received after by the Wicked Woman, for a while longer letting the soothing atmosphere of the room and the repetitive motions of his sword practice try to settle his storming mind.

It’s some time later when Jain interrupts the quiet of the room. “Zhao, you’re still awake at this hour?”

“You’re not sleeping either” the young hero pointed out. “And besides” he continues “I want to stay with Second Master Li a while longer” holding his sword training book up towards Jian. While that was true, what he didn’t say was that he was still hesitant to go to sleep. He had a feeling that once he closed his eyes his mind would continue to replay the events of the day, but would most likely add sinister twists to the scenario. Where Zhao wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, skilled enough to protect Jian. And instead of Zhao receiving a handful of small wounds, Jian could have been… it could have been much worse.

“You haven’t recovered from your injury” Jian refutes, not looking up from his reading material. “I don’t want you to become crippled.”

Zhao pauses in the middle of his next stroke. He looks over at Jian again, takes in his tense shoulders and the ways his hands have begun gripping the book more tightly than necessary. He hears and sees the worry for what it is; despite accepting Zhao’s protection and the man as a sworn brother (and well, Zhao was still unpacking all of that and the way it made his stomach flutter to think about) Jian had trouble seeing Zhao hurt on his behalf. It wasn’t something they spoke about, but Zhao had seen the guilt in Jian’s intense eyes more than he wanted to. 

“The Wicked Woman has done her job well, Jian-ge, I am feeling well!” Zhao responds enthusiastically. “Besides,” Zhao continues as he puffs out his chest, filling his voice with bravado, “today’s victory shows that with my practicing I am becoming quite the hero!”

This elicited the reaction Zhao wanted out of his companion as Jian let out a soft huff of laughter. He continued, “The sooner I finish Second Master Li’s teaching the sooner I can be an even stronger hero!”

Letting out an obviously forced sigh, Jian replies “I advise you to learn slowly. I don’t have other sword manuals to give you. Take your time.”

Hearing Jian say this, Zhao begins swinging his sword arm more aggressively than necessary for the gentle practice he was doing. But what he heard upset him. “Take my time?” he growled. “Take my time?! For what?” He let out a few more aggressive swings. “For you to actually get hurt next time? No, thank you.” Slash, stab. “I won’t be letting that happen if I can help it,” he finishes as he lets out one last wide swipe of his arm, imagining his sword in hand, taking down his enemies. Jian-ge’s enemies, he thinks. 

Zhao didn’t realize how harshly he had let out his response until he turned and saw Jian looking at him from across the room, wide eyed, his hands having lowered the book into his lap. The two stare at each other from across the room, Zhao sword arm lowered to his side. Jian doesn’t hold the eye contact for long before turning his nose back into the pages of his book. 

Zhao continues to stare at his sworn brother. He thinks he sees a red flush rising on Jian’s neck and ears but he assumes it must be a trick of the light, the alternative too crazy to consider. Jian wouldn’t be blushing because of what Zhao had said, could he? Zhao shook his head lightly to try and clear the foggy feeling of his thoughts.

Sitting down on his own bed, he tries to focus on his training book once again but finds himself imagining what Jian would look like blushing while he could see his whole face. How his cheeks and ears would turn a cute and bright pink. How the colour might travel down his neck, to his chest, and lower still…

Abruptly Zhao brings his book up to cover the front of his face, blushing himself as he realizes where exactly his thoughts about Jian had started going. It wasn’t the first time he had thoughts like this but normally he was better at stopping himself, especially in the other man’s presence. He wasn’t trying to think of him in this way, Zhao just found himself curious about his companion and wanted to know everything about him. In order to protect him, of course. Not because Zhao was selfish and wanted to be someone Jian confided in most intimately. 

Realizing this was a particular spiral he did not feel like traveling down tonight, Zhao decided it was time to get ready for bed. He began to put his things away, stashing the book on his night table and leaning the sword against the headboard, and laid out his bedding. Jian had followed his lead and put his own book away and fluffed up his blanket.

Zhao blows out the last of the candles that light the room, leaving one lit on the centre table to allow some light to permeate the shadows should either need to get up in the middle of the night.

Both had been in bed for only a few moments before Zhao thought he could hear noises coming from Jian’s side of the room. Despite the large space, Zhao could hear a faint clicking noise. It was too dark to see Jian’s form huddled under the blanket, but Zhao imagined if he could he would see his companion’s shoulders shaking. The clicking noise was Jian’s teeth chattering as he shivered from the cold poison circulating through his body. Unfortunately, it was a sound Zhao was becoming more and more familiar with.

Shuffling quietly in bed, Zhao sits up. “Jian-ge?” he quietly asks the room, leaving room for Jian to pretend he did not hear him.

The chattering stops and after a beat he hears a faint “Mm?” coming from Jian’s bed.

“Are you cold, Jian-ge?”

“I’m fine.” 

“You don’t sound fine” Zaho refuted.

A pause. Then, “Just go to sleep, Zhao.”

“What’s wrong, Jian-ge? What can I do?” If Zhao didn’t know better, he’d say he was almost begging, the pleading in his voice clear even to him.

Jian sighs before saying, “It’s nothing, Zhao-shidi. I’m just a little chilly is all. It’ll pass. Just go to sleep. I’m sure we’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

The resigned note in Jian’s voice has Zhao rising from his own bed and crossing the room. It has nothing to do with how soft Jian had called Zhao his shidi. Nothing at all with how that made Zhao’s stomach flutter and made the desire to protect and care for the man increase even more.

It took only a few strides before Zhao was at Jian’s bedside. “Please, Jian-ge.” Zhao said. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for, he just wanted to be able to help. “Are you just cold?”

At first it didn’t seem like Jian would respond, but finally he rolled over slightly to look at Zhao looming over him. He nods into the semi-darkness, the candle on the table giving enough light to show his pale complexion and even paler lips. 

“Alright then. Move over.” Zhao begins lifting the outer corner of the blanket, intent on joining Jian in his bed. As a child Zhao had learned the best way to get and stay warm was to share body heat with another person. Growing up around the mountain of his hometown he had seen many wanderers injured from the colder temperatures higher up.

However, Jian didn’t budge, and instead gripped his side of the blanket tighter around himself. “What?” he all but hiccupped.

“Move over. If we share a bed I can help keep you warm. Surely Jian-ge must know that is a good way to warm up.” Zhao kept his face as neutral as possible, not revealing how nervous he actually was about sharing a bed with the older man. As much as this was his idea, and he was doing it to help Jian after all!, he couldn’t completely deny the part of him that wanted to hold the man close. He blamed it on his need to know his companion was safe.

Jian just keeps looking at Zhao, mouth opening and closing a few times as he seems to struggle to find words to reply. Eventually Jian seems to find what he wants to say, sitting up to reply, letting the blanket fall into his lap. “But it’ll be cold, Zhao, you won’t have a good night’s sleep if you sleep beside me.”

Zhao didn’t care about that, and he knew Jian knew this was a weak defence to present, but it seemed it was all the detective could come up with. Shaking his head and clenching his fists in order to keep his voice calm, Zhao decides for a moment of vulnerability, his patience for Jian’s rebuttals for help wearing thin as it gets later into the night. “Please, Jian-ge? It would help me sleep knowing you are safe.”

Jian stares up at him, eyes trailing over his face, the set of his shoulders, and finally down to his clenched fists. He pauses here for a moment before replying, “Okay”. A deep breath. Zhao pretends not to hear how Jian’s voice shakes just the littlest bit. He doesn't know if it's from his chills or something else. 

“Okay, you can join me.” He slides over in the bed to make room for the younger man.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Zhao quickly jumps under the covers, tucking himself and Jian in under the blanket. At first they both lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. This way the bed is rather cramped, as it wasn’t really made to accommodate two fully grown men, let alone when one of them was as large as Zhao. 

At the first slight shiver Jian let’s out, he rolls over onto his side, his back facing Zhao. He curls in on himself slightly, clearly trying to keep warm and trying to stifle the shivers racking his body.

Without letting himself pause to think it through, Zhao rolls onto his side too and reaches an arm around Jian’s waist, pulling the smaller man into the front of Zhao’s chest. 

“Zhao! What-” Jian all but squeaks, however Zhao cuts him off. 

“I told you to let me help you. I’ll keep you warm, Jian-ge.” At this he adjusts his grip on his sleeping companion, ensuring Jian is tucked into the cage of his arms. To ensure he gets as much of my body heat as possible, Zhao reasons. Not because holding Jian in his arms made something deep within Zhao settle.

Zhao begins to worry he’s overstepped when Jian holds himself stiff inside the circle of his arms. Just when he thinks he should pull back and maybe even go back to his own bed, that he overstepped, Jian finally releases a breath and let’s his body relax into the younger man’s hold. 

It’s several moments later, and Zhao wonders if Jian has really started to drift off, when he hears a soft “Thank you, shidi” from the man in his arms.

Trying and failing to stop the smile that spreads across his face, Zhao decides to hide it by snuggling into the back of Jian’s neck, letting his nose come to rest in Jain’s hair, smelling the lightly scented soap that his companion favoured. So lost in his own dreamland, he almost, almost, misses the way Jian snuggles back into his embrace. Maybe he didn’t over step nearly as much as he thought he did.

As the two drift off to sleep, Zhao finds himself feeling a deep kind of peace. His last conscious thought before falling into darkness is that he thinks he could fall asleep every night like this. Holding his Jian-ge in his arms, allowed to protect and care for the man. He secretly hopes he’ll be able to do this again. Unbeknownst to him, Jian is having similar thoughts within the confines of his shidi’s arms.

end notes: i'm pretty sure i've gotten the relationship terms incorrect. i went with the closest terms i could think of (ge for older brother and shidi for younger sect brother) to try and highlight their new relationship after becoming sworn brothers in a previous episode. let me know what might be more correct!

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #08

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [AO3]

** TW/suicide of family member implied (it is marked ahead with ((text)) so you know what to skip) ~POV shift Mori~ In my old life I had spent 4 or so years as a historical reenactor for the mid 1700's through early 1800's on my weekends. My group mainly acted as pirates/privateers and sang sea shanties. We had done performances on different ships, but every time we were invited onto a period ship I couldn't make it, so I was geeking out when I saw the ship we'd be taking to Sindria. I prayed it didn't show on my face. Sure it was exciting for an other world's nerd like me to get to see a ship like this in use, but to everyone else it was a normal ship. The ship had two masts -both square rigged with a fore and aft sail at the back for better steering. Considering the reputation for the waters around Sindria I expected a bigger three mast ship for strength, but who was I to judge?

With only two masts, this ship probably only needed a crew of about nine people to allow for different shifts. It didn't look like it had room for many passengers. No doubt, Sinbad didn't expect to be bringing four extra people back with him. I was in full on research mode by the time I got on the ship, and I tired my best to not stand out or get in the way. Getting to look up at the rigging from on the deck was an experience. After everyone was settled I'd definitely make a point to look around more. I might even take one of the scrolls out and try drawing the deck of the ship since I never got around to drawing that gorgeous room in the hotel. I considered myself lucky that no one tried to talk to me until the rooms were being divided out -I had been hyperfixating so I might not have even noticed if they did.

Studying the ship could only boost me for so long. About 15 minutes before we left the port I could no longer ignore that my head was throbbing from exhaustion. This headache was undeniably becoming a migraine if it wasn't one already. I decided that sleep was the next thing on my agenda. Luckily, I made that decision around the same time the rooms were being divided out. I had figured I'd end up in the same room as Alibaba, Aladdin and Morgiana, but Alibaba was put in the same room as Ja'far and Masrur. Everyone put their bags down, and headed back on deck except me. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands as I started to let myself fully calm down. In the quiet it hit me just how much I had been using working on the scrolls as a way to avoid thinking about my guilt and lost home. I'd have to find time when no one else was in the room to work through these feelings. There was no way I could keep it bottled up until we reached Sindria. "Excuse me, Miss Mori?" Aladdin had re-entered the room and closed the door. We might not have been formally introduced but he was told who I was. "What is it?" I lifted my head to look at him, and tried to keep my expression positive. I felt the waves rising. A Magi was talking to a Prophet in private; something was bound to happen. The walls of the ship creaked, and I heard steps and the floor boards creak in the hallway. The wave got a little bigger. Silence hung in the air as the boy just stood there. Instead of trying to guess what he wanted I waited. His hands tightened around his staff. Aladdin looked nervous as he confronted me. "I know you say you've read Fate, but I don't think Fate is something written in stone. It's something that everyone makes together. It can always change." The hallway floor creaked behind the Magi again. The wave was getting bigger. Someone was definitely listening in, and there was only one King that was a chronic eavesdropper.

"I agree," I said bluntly. I wanted Sinbad to hear my answer. Ten years ago, he came to the conclusion that Fate was something already written as a way to cope with his guilt and trauma, and he thought he was 'the chosen one' for being able to read ahead through the waves, but he was wrong on both accounts. "You do?” Aladdin was surprised. It must sound weird coming from someone who read Fate. "I've read more than one Fate for this world, so I know there is no one true path." The manga, anime and OVAs were a little different after all. "And if Fate couldn't be changed then I couldn't be here." I turned so I was sitting facing him. "You see, I wasn't in any of the Fate I read. I wasn't even in this world until five days ago." The magi took a few steps towards me with wide eyes. Aladdin had felt very alone for not being from this world -now he would know he wasn't the only one. It wasn't a reveal that caused problems on its own when Aladdin explained in the original so I didn't see an issue in letting Sinbad overhear about me either- I had already implied as much the previous day. I felt the need to elaborated. "Everything I do changes the Fate I read because I wasn't here. For example, only one of the Fates I read showed the conversation where you all found out about the Kou Fleet. Remember how I yelled at Alibaba? If I didn't convince him to leave then King Sinbad would have knocked him out, and Alibaba would be kept asleep with medicine for this whole trip. Since I was there this time, I was able to change that." "Oh!" He brightened up a bit. "I much prefer things this way." "I agree. Like this it will be much easier for him to heal." I looked down at my intertwined hands. "I have no idea how this will change the Fate I read though." Aladdin hummed a question mark, but he didn't say or ask anything directly. I answered the obvious question to my words, "I can't read a Fate that I'm a part of, so now that I'm here I can't read how my actions are changing Fate. Eventually, the Fate I did read will become useless, and I have no idea if I'm changing it for the better." It was only as I said it that I remembered that Sinbad was listening. I had basically just told him that my usefulness as his Prophet would have a definite expiration date. All I had wanted was to let Aladdin know that he might not be able to rely on me for everything. I definitely wasn't thinking clearly. Aladdin cut into my thoughts. "Is that why the Rukh are so active around you? Because you weren't originally a part of the Flow of Fate?" "Probably." I didn't know what else to say. I knew I had to be making distinctive waves in the Rukh just by being here, let alone with all of my changes. "Miss Mori, where are you from?" I hummed in amusement at that. "I'm from much farther away than you or your parents-if you can believe it." I was from the same world as the person who wrote the original Fate of this world. There was no way I could tell anyone that. He was shocked again. It was written all over his face that he was questioning if I was really from a dimension farther away than Alma Torran. Aladdin gripped the flute that he always wore. "Then... Are you the person he didn't recognize?" "He?" Which 'he' -oh. I lowered my voice. "Ugo?" I put one finger over my lips and looked at the door. Sinbad has to remain ignorant about the Sacred Palace; he's too self-absorbed. Aladdin looked confused at my change in volume. He followed my gaze to the door and back then nodded. He didn't look all that surprised that I knew about Ugo. I kept my voice low. "Aladdin, let's talk more about this some other time. The walls have ears on such a small ship. And I'm exhausted." "Okay. Rest well, Miss Mori." Aladdin spoke at normal volume. I heard a scramble in the hallway, the magi left, and I put my glasses in the top of my bag for safe keeping. I could hear Aladdin through the wall. "Oh! Mr. Sinbad, Mr. Ja'far, did you want to check on Miss Mori too?” "Uh, yes. How is she doing?” Was King Sinbad's response. I could hear the nerves he was trying to

cover up. "Real smooth there, Sin." I mumbled as I finally drifted into unconsciousness. --- I was a young man of 20 some years. I had started a family. We didn't have enough money for food. I ended up taking a risky job because I knew it would pay better. ... No. I'm a six year old girl? I don't remember if I had parents, but I remember going to visit this old dog every day. ... If life was hard, and I had nothing to loose then there was no reason not to bet everything I had on one last round. How could I return to my family without money? The last time I saw my son he was three. Would he even remember me? ... Ya know, when you grow up with someone and everyone else can see your chemistry you'd think it would be obvious that we'd marry when we grew up, but she met someone else. ... I knew things were bad, but I never even considered that my neighbor was stealing from me when I was at work. Bastard stabbed me with my own kitchen knife when I caught him. --- I wasn't myself in my dreams. Every time I woke I had to ground myself and remember where and when I was. Rereading the scrolls I had made helped. Just how many Rukh had merged with me, and why? I had no connections to any of those spirits while they were alive. Was it just because ghosts like me? I wrote down every dream I had; their lives might have been over, but they were a part of me now. I was too exhausted to go on deck, and I could feel that there were still more lives inside of me that I had to get aquatinted with. When I wasn't sleeping, I was working on scrolls again since I at least had enough energy to write and draw. My breathing was getting difficult, and I was struggling with temperature regulation. I wasn't okay enough to tell if it was my body struggling with the changes in my magoi, like when Sinbad took in all the Rukh after the Fall of First Sindria, or if I was just sick. After making sure I could still use magoi manipulation I decided that it was probably the later. I mainly left that room for food, and I waited until almost everyone was done before going. I avoided talking to others too. If I was sick I needed to minimize my contact with others. Alibaba seemed to be in a similar state to me. We both found that staying near each other when around the others made them less likely to approach us with the depressing cloud that hung over us.

Those that did see me could obviously tell I was unwell. From their words it seemed like they were assuming I was just mourning -they were only half wrong. It gave me an easy excuse to leave, so I never corrected them. I did feel bad for worrying everyone. The whole situation sucked. I wanted to cry. I had been in lock down back home because of Covid-19 for 8 months as an at risk person (it's still Oct 2020 in this story). I was literally in a fantasy anime world now. I wasn't given a better immune system, but my boobs didn't need a bra anymore??? WTF?? If the current arbiter of Fate was me writing fanfiction, then they had a lot of explaining to do. ... Who was I kidding? I knew why I would write something like this. I wanted to see more stories about people like me -someone with my disabilities and life experiences- get to be someone "valued" even if they couldn't be on the front lines. My migraine wouldn't go away, and it wasn't the only part of me in pain. I think I got palpitations a few times -breathing was even worse during those episodes. If I hadn't had health problems growing up I probably would have been panicking. I knew it was stupid to not tell anyone what was going on with me. But would anyone even be able help me on a ship? Telling them would just make them worry more than they already were. Aladdin and Morgiana could tell something more was wrong with me; I couldn't fully hide from them while sleeping in the same room. They must have let the others know since they gave me some pain killers at some point. It tasted awful. I'm honestly not sure how affective it was, but it did knock me out. ((Skip to the next paragraph to avoid the trigger)) At least I was left alone most of the time. I had no choice but to sit with my thoughts about Balbadd. I grew up mourning. The blood on my hands might not be the same as losing most of my loved ones back home, but it was damn similar to when I was in high school thinking "if only one of us had answered the phone that day." The Balbadd revolt would have been much worse if I wasn't there. And even if I had said something sooner there was little that could be done to actually stop Al Thamen when they had their hands so deep in that country. Even with Sinbad there to sway Fate, Al Thamen would still find a way to spill blood. Even if I told Alibaba days in advance and he tried to talk to Cassim about it, Cassim wanted nothing to do with Sinbad, so any help that came from him would be refused. Cassim was twisted around Issnan's fingers and out for blood. I did the best I could. My actions did save some people. I'd have to take solace in that. --- I woke up to something wrapped around me, almost like I was tied down. I couldn't move my legs. I gave up trying to untangle my skirt and covers from me, and just pulled the skirt out from under the cloth belt -kicking the whole mass off like a cocoon. I had put my underwear on underneath and I still had the tunic on so I wasn't left totally uncovered. Star light shown in from the window. I had slept through another day. I couldn't remember my dream. Maybe I had finally returned to having my own dreams. The other beds in the room were occupied. My head was still swimming. I felt trapped. I needed something. I heard the waves outside, and felt the waves of Fate washing over me. Their sounds called to me. Back home I had used the sounds of waves to meditate and stim regularly. I had been hearing them all this time, but I wanted to see them. I didn't bother to slip on my flip-flops as I made my way to the door, didn't even think about grabbing my glasses until I was already on deck. It had been so dark below that I couldn't see anyway, and didn't realize I wasn't wearing them. The wave of Fate I had been following lead me farther into the space. When I hit it's end, the adrenaline that had got me that far died out. The night air hit my legs and I shivered. It was colder than it was at night in Balbadd. I thought we were heading south. Did I still have a fever? The cold reminded me that I really should have put on

my shorts or something before coming out here. The tunic just barely covered me. My vision was going grey scale. This was bad. Really bad. I recognized this feeling. I was about to pass out from not being able to breathe right. I used to have fainting spells as a kid because of my weak raspatory system and needed to carry smelling salts for a few years. The last time it happened was about five years ago -I had been really sick. My head was throbbing; my heart was pounding. Guess I was sicker than I thought. I needed to focus on breathing and getting to the ground. I stumbled to the bowsprit (the pole that sticks out the front of the ship) as support. I needed to get to the ground safely before I collapsed. I'd gotten a concussion once because I didn't get down before the black out hit. A wave crashed into me from behind. If I hadn't been putting all my weight on that wooden shaft I would have been pushed over even though it wasn't a physical wave. What in the world was behind me that would cause such a wave? I removed one arm to look back as my knees started to give out. There was definitely someone there. Their color balance didn't match anything I could remember, but they were really familiar. Without my glasses I couldn't really tell anything -especially since everything was becoming different shades of black. And I already had bad night vision. The light was fading. Shapes were getting harder to discern. Even though I was breathing deeper I hadn't managed to counter the fainting spell. I was going down. I definitely fell, but it didn't feel like I fell for long enough to hit the ground. The feeling across my back was really familiar. Someone had caught me.

Sometimes I was able to stay conscious when I fainted. It was kinda like ending up in sleep paralysis but with a -20 to all sensory inputs. Seemed like this was one of those times. I couldn't hear what they were saying or see them. It was like my head was deep under water. There was a pressure on my forehead. Were they checking my temperature? When someone faints you're supposed to lay them on the ground and position them so they can breath easier. This person didn't take first aid classes or forgot or something because I was being lifted upwards instead of laid down. It was really warm and comfy though. I liked this feeling. What was it? Safe? Was that it? I hadn't felt actually safe in a long time. I certainly didn't feel safe in that house back home even after everything was over. Maybe it was the feeling of warmth and safety. Maybe it was the way the waves were moving. Maybe it was the numbness that comes with blacking out. But whatever it was had stopped the pain. With the pain gone I calmed the rest of the way. I felt my spine straighten out onto a soft surface. The warmth faded even though something was now covering my legs. I was in a bed. The cold was back without a source of warmth to leech from. I definitely had a fever if I was this cold. Damnit. I grew up with all sorts of chronic health conditions and have always gotten sick easily. Even though I was now in an anime world, I was still me. Was I going to die in this world from some common illness that was already cured back home? We might not have had a lot of money back home but I was lucky enough to get a job with usable health insurance that let me work from home during a pandemic. I could at least get medicine every time I got a normal illness. I was finally able to afford to get and keep an inhaler. Not that any of that was of use to me now. My motor functions were returning. I rolled to the side and curled into the fetal position. I had lost everything. No home. No friends or family. Who would want to look after a stranger with nothing to give back? I was doing what I could to seem worthy of the main cast, but how long would that last? The story would reach its end in five years. What would I do after that? What was the point of all of the savings I had managed to make back home if I was going to be Isekaied? I had been the main bread winner and now my family couldn't even use my savings because I hadn't left a body behind as proof that I had died. All of the thoughts and feelings I was still running from were flooding through me. I couldn't even distract myself with writing scrolls or anything. This was probably for the best. Pushing things away for much longer would be unhealthy. And if I couldn't let myself feel miserable when I was sick and alone, then when could I? I let the tears fall. I hadn't been a loud crier since I was a kid, so I was caught off guard when I could hear my own sobs. I didn't have it in me to hide any more. The bed I was on creaked but I hadn't moved. There was a new weight on the mattress.

I wasn't alone.

The concept that someone was checking on me hurt harder. I didn't grow up in a healthy environment, so now feel immense guilt when someone shows me genuine kindness. But I am also aware and recovered enough to know I deserve kindness, so the guilt always paired with an equal amount or more of relief. I felt a hand stroke my hair. They wanted to comfort me. And I wanted comfort. The waves washing over me encouraged me seek out more. I used what little strength I had to pull myself against them. Having undeniable proof that I wasn't alone and that someone cares was overwhelming. The relief made me cry harder. I'd have to thank them later. But for the time being I'd pour out as much emotion as they'd let me.

[beauvibaby]

beautiful- b.boeser

requested [] yes [x] no

brock boeser x plus-size reader

a/n: y’all I really love this it was very self endlugent and yeah, please show it some love 🥺

You smiled, seeing a notification come up in your phone.

@bboeser tagged you in a photo

You opened up Instagram in record speed, a grin overcoming your face at the picture, you and Easton passed out on the couch, coolie and milo curled up at your feet.

“aunt y/n holding down the fort, uncle Brock just gets to watch”

You laughed to yourself at the caption, liking the photo and taking a screenshot of it. You heard the dogs jumping around downstairs, you were about to lock your phone and head downstairs to greet Brock, when you caught a glimpse of a comment. You read it, once, twice, three times, shocked that people who didn’t even know you could just be so cruel. They pointed out how chubby you looked, and how your shirt was tugged into the small roll in your stomach, it took a long time for you to become so confident, you loved yourself, and you knew Brock loved you and that’s all that mattered. But, we all know, when people point out your flaws it’s hard to not hyperfixate on them. Of course you hadn’t looked your best in the picture, you were babysitting Easton, and ended up falling asleep on the couch with him on top of you, your head tilted down to rest on top of his, which of course, made the fullness under your chin more noticeable. You suddenly found yourself chewing on your lip as you refreshed the page, scrolling through the hundred more comments, if you were being truthful, only a fraction of them were rude, most of them were sweet, but it felt like all you could see were the bad ones.

You scrolled through them, moving into the bathroom, you stood in front of the mirror, you were in a pair of leggings and a sports bra, having just been out back playing with the dogs, in the privacy of your and Brock’s yard, but suddenly you felt like you had a million pairs of eyes on you. You read a comment, pointing out the way you had the roll in your stomach, especially towards the sides, you looked in the mirror, eyes instantly falling on the spot, adorned with stretch marks. Your weight had always gone up and down, especially when you were just a young teenager, and now you were littered with stretch marks that would never go away. Not usually something that bothered you, all that you ever worried about was your health, and you were healthy, despite what people were trying to say in the comments, automatically assuming because you were full figured, that you did have a little bit of a stomach, that your thighs were nowhere near having a gap, that your arms had just a little bit of extra weight on them, that you were unhealthy. God how you hated that assumption, it was so rude to assume anyone who wasn’t the typical skinny was unhealthy. Your eyes trained on the marks on your stomach once again, your fingers delicately running over the darker lines, something Brock would do when you laid together on the couch, normally something that made you feel good. Every time he would do the subtle gesture, it made you feel good, feminine, cared for, but in this moment the thought of him ever seeing them again, made your heart jump in your chest. Surely, after reading these, he couldn’t think of you the same again. “Baby?” Brock called, his feet flopping against the stairs, you sucked in a sharp breath, meeting your eyes in the mirror and seeing the so prominent redness in them from the tears welling up. You quickly splashed some water on your face, wiping it off with a towel in an attempt to get rid of some redness, you heard him starting his way down the hallway, and you rushed to grab a shirt, even though it was unlawfully hot outside today, hence the reason you were only in the lightweight leggings and bra. You quickly tugged the material over your head, grimacing when you realized it was one of Brock’s shirts, that just didn’t fit your curves properly, I mean yeah it fit, technically, but it tugged tightly in all the wrong places.

It sat taught on your stomach, showing everything you were trying to hide, but loose in your chest where you weren’t as full as people would think you should be, you were about to tug it back off when you heard him push the door open. “There you are, you didn’t answer me and I got worried.” He sighed softly, walking up behind you, arms going around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry, I spaced out.” You laughed softly, hoping your voice didn’t give you away. He hummed in acknowledgment but you could feel his eyes studying the side of your face, suddenly your thoughts wandered to how horrible your side profile must be, so you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “I missed you, beautiful.” He mumbled, leaning to press a soft kiss to your lips. You knew he could tell something was bothering you, but you also knew that he could tell you were desperately trying to hide it, he knew how to react when you were like this, he would wait and ask you later, give you a chance to process your own emotions first. “I missed you.” You whispered once he pulled away, you shuffled out of his grip, “I’m going to shower.” You added, disappearing into the bathroom, unknowingly giving him an idea of what could be bothering you, because you shut and locked the door, something neither of you have done for as long as you could remember. He stared at the door for a minute, a small frown on his face as his mind wandered with all the possibilities, you hadn’t seemed upset with him, so he was almost certain he hadn’t unknowingly done something. So that left his other option, someone had said something, he knew people were cruel, and he knew it was part of his life being in the spotlight, but he hated that he had drug you down in it with him. But all he wanted to do was show off the amazing girl that he was so lucky to call his, and the fact that he couldn’t do that without being respected, that really bothered him, because you deserved to be bragged about, you deserved to be filling more of his social media than you were. It was rare that he posted things with you, simply because he knew how it could bother you, but his heart swelled with so much pride when he got the picture of you and his nephew, it only reminded him how much he wanted that with your own kids one day.

He hadn’t realized how long he was standing there thinking about it until he heard the water shut off, and he scrambled to get out of there, not wanting you to know he’d been standing there the whole time. He rushed out of the room, doing his best to stay quiet as you unlocked the bathroom door. You stepped out, towel wrapped tightly around your body, you did a quick once over, looking for him before you stepped out, you went and grabbed some clean lounge clothes, not planning on leaving the house today, but you made sure the ones you grabbed fit you properly. Once you were satisfied enough with your appearance, you trudged down the stairs, coolie rushing over to jump at you while milo slept in his bed. You laughed stopping to pet him, when you looked up you spotted Brock rummaging around in the kitchen, he undoubtedly had to be hungry, just coming back from playing golf with some friends. You were hungry, waiting for him to come home to eat, but now you cringed a little at the thought, not in the way where you wanted to not eat, but your stomach was still in knots from reading those comments. “Hi, baby.” You spoke up, walking past him, opening the fridge and pulling out a water. “Hi.” Brock responded, looking over at you with a grin, you couldn’t help but smile back, his smile was so contagious. “Why are you so smiley?” You teased softly, stepping over towards his outstretched arms, he all but yanked you into him, your chin resting on his chest so you could look up at him. “Mhm, ‘cause I get to spend the rest of the day at home with my girl.” He mumbled, lips ghosting over your forehead, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment. But it didn’t last long when his finger tips dipped underneath your shirt, his fingers running over your skin soothingly, “don’t do that.” He whispered when you tried to shimmy away from him. “What?” You gasped, feeling like you’d been caught red handed.

“The picture I posted, I know people are just so fucking rude, but you can’t listen to them baby, because none of what they say is true.” He spoke sternly, but softly, one hand staying on your waist, the other coming up to cup your cheek. “But it is true, the way my stomach rolls in on the side, and how chubby my face is, and my thighs rub together and-“ “stop it, you’re beautiful, inside and out.” He cut you off, his brows knit together slightly. “Baby girl, I love you, and everything you just said that you didn’t like.” He continued, watching as your breathing hitched momentarily, “I love it when you know I’m having a bad day and you make me lay my head in your lap, or when we’re going on long drives and I just grab your leg and rub it while you go to sleep. I love squeezing your beautiful face to make you give me a kiss when you’re being goofy,” he paused to do just that, a hand on either side of your face, squeezing together and making your lips fall into a soft pout that he kissed. “And I love grabbing you just like this,” his hands went back to your sides, gripping you snuggly, “so I can hold you close and not let you go.” He concluded, “no, you’re not supposed to cry, baby.” He pouted softly when you looked at him with big watery eyes. “I love you.” You whispered hiding your face in his neck, “I love you too, so much.” He laughed softly, feeling your tears fall on his skin. “Please don’t cry anymore.” He nudged your head with his own, “they’re happy tears.” You sniffled, pulling back to look at him. “How’d I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, “I should be asking the same thing.”

taglist: @jmaybanks​ @softstarkey​ @literarycharleton​ @mtkachuk​ @wtfkie​

[endof-theline]

Day 1 - Early Tropetember: Strangers To Lovers

Okay so I got super excited about Tropetember and forgot how months work, but I already started it sooo here we go! 

Also I’ve not written anything serious in 2 years so please forgive me if it’s a bit rough, hyperfixations are a bitch!

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32301262

"I can't stand this anymore" Clint groaned as he watched Tony stare at Steve's back while he was cooking breakfast for the team "They have been doing this shit for months"

'This shit' was Steve and Tony tiptoeing around each other constantly since the New York battle that brought them together, the pair barely spoke to each other but were always looking at each other like they hung the stars. At first it was funny and the other Avengers all took bets when they would start dating, but pretty quickly it turned to almost annoying when the pair outlasted the bets and were still almost strangers despite seeming head over heels for each other.

"It's not like we can force them together, Clint" Bruce hissed through his teeth, worried about Tony hearing them even though Tony had tuned everyone out except for Steve's soft humming.

"I mean-" Clint went to suggest but cut himself off when Steve turned around with two plates in his hands, giving the first to Tony before handing the others theirs "Thanks Cap, looks great!"

A chorus of thank yous went around the table as Steve grinned before chuckling "It's no problem, it's nice to relearn this stuff, food tastes better now" 

Despite coming from a time where most food was boiled to hell and back, Steve was becoming a good cook and he tried to cook at least once per day if not twice when it was possible for him to do it. Without knowing it, Steve cooking was the only thing that kept Tony from starving in his workshop since as soon as Tony found out Steve cooks for the team he had been coming up for any meals that Steve had made. 

Natasha tried not to notice as Steve's eyes constantly flicked to Tony as they were eating, always making sure that the resident genius was enjoying the food he cooked, but failed as she held back a sigh and the temptation to knock their heads together.

"So Cap, now that we aren't in any immediate danger, do you think you'll start trying to date around?" Clint asked with a grin, Bruce just shut his eyes with a frown while Natasha, not for the first time, wondered how Clint ever became a spy.

Steve stammered for a second, eyes darting to Tony before darting away when he saw Tony staring at him "C-Can't say that I've thought about it, I-I mean it's not like I need to. I'm not as lonely living here, and I don't think I'd want to date a civilian or anyone from SHIELD either" Steve was completely red in the face as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes down awkwardly before looking back up to his team with a nervous smile.

"I get SHIELD, but why not civilian?" Clint asked curiously and smiled innocently when Steve gave him a weird look, Steve cocked an eyebrow but when nothing came of it he sighed.

"Well, for one it would be difficult to explain my job" He laughed as the others all chuckled in agreement "And I don't know, I worry that if it's someone that's not, y'know, like us I might hurt them by accident. I mean, I'm not sure how aware I am of my strength and I wouldn't want to do something to someone who could really get hurt. I patted Tony's shoulder in the suit and almost pushed him over the other week!"

"You didn't hurt me though" Tony piped up for the first time this morning, he was usually pretty quiet in the mornings until he had really woken up but since Steve started making breakfast Tony would stay silent and stare instead.

"But I could have, if you were out the suit then I could really hurt you" Steve stressed as Tony sat up straight and looked the other dead in the eyes.

"Since I'm the closest to a civilian that we've got, I'm excluding Bruce because of the other guy, why don't you practice with me? Just like friendly gestures and stuff so I can tell you if you need to be more careful" Tony suggested as the room went silent, Tony held his chin up slightly even as the tips of his ears started tinting pink "That why you can date a civilian without worrying"

"Y-Yeah alright then" Steve sounded almost a little breathless as he agreed, Tony just gave him a firm nod before loading his empty plate into the dishwasher and leaving the room. Steve, who had been staring fondly at Tony the whole time, shook his head a little and went back to his breakfast as the other three stared at each other in shock at how clueless they both were. 

“Why don’t you practice with me?” Clint mocked in a whiny tone, that was apparently meant to be Tony’s voice, as he let himself into Tony’s workshop and flopped down onto the sofa that was usually Tony’s nap couch “Come on, Tony”

“Shut up, Clint” Tony muttered despite his face going red and his blush only got worse when Clint started to laugh at him “I just want to help, Steve should be able to date anyone he wants to”

“Like you?” Clint teased and got up when Tony’s shoulders hunched slightly “You know I’m only joking, Tony, besides the whole team knows that you have a crush on our fearless leader but he’s oblivious because of the huge crush he has on you”

“Don’t. Don’t say that” Tony’s voice was hard as Clint could see himself building up his walls, Clint put his hand on Tony’s and gently pushed it so he would let go of the screwdriver he was holding with a steel grip “Clint-”

“Nope, you don’t get to block me out and be all sad down here” Clint refused to let the genius talk, Tony getting frustrated easily as Clint kept interrupting him everytime he went to speak because the archer knew it was going to be self-deprecating. Tony sighed in defeat as he let go of the screwdriver and sat back in his chair, eyes going up to Clint that held so much uncertainty there that Clint immediately laced their fingers together and squeezed his hand “I wouldn’t get your hopes up like that for a joke, I’m an asshole but I’m not cruel”

“You’re not an asshole” Tony murmured as he squeezed Clint’s hand back and smiled up to him softly, his eyes drifted away nervously before flicking back to Clint’s face “I want to see if this practice thing works, if it doesn’t maybe I’ll talk to him”

“I can agree to that, just remember that boys show their affection by hitting and pulling pigtails” Clint teased and yelped when Tony took a swing at him, his hand going to his chest with a smile on his face “Aw Tones, I didn’t know you felt like that” Clint cooed at him before screaming as Tony threw the screwdriver at him, running out of the workshop before more things could be hurled his way.

Tony flopped back into his chair and rubbed his hands over his face with a groan, smudging oil and grease everywhere. Pepper was right, of course she was, Pepper was always right. Tony was hopeless when he actually liked someone and didn’t just want to take them to bed, he always got the same way of heart eyes and stupid smiles and getting shy about it.

When he was trying to flirt with Pepper, it had been the same way and it was just lucky that Pepper knew him so well to understand why his attitude changed around her. Steve was practically a stranger living in his home, the second Tony had seen him fighting with Loki in Germany he had to focus on anything else than the way Steve matched his height in the suit.

“Fuck” Tony groaned out into the empty room, feeling his heart race as he thought about Steve even being close to him let alone putting a hand on him. Out of the suit, Tony was shorter than average and you wouldn’t even be able to tell unless you caught him without shoes, which was rare, since he had lifts in all of his shoes. Steve would tower over him and just the thought of Tony having to go up onto his tiptoes as Steve had to lean down to meet each other's eyeline was enough to make him blush.

Oh he was so screwed, though little did Tony know that Natasha and Steve were having a very similar talk in the kitchen. Steve’s face a matching shade of pink to Tony’s and a rather smug look on Natasha’s face that probably would have matched Clint’s if Tony had chased him out.

The next week was torture for everyone that had to witness it. Steve had taken the excuse of practice and run a marathon with it, he was using every opportunity to touch Tony in some way which, naturally, just made Tony smile as the butterflies in his chest doubled. The rest of the team could only despair as they watched the pair falling for each other harder and harder everyday, they were close to locking them in the gym and not letting them out until they kissed.

Which, being the one brain-celled team that they were, happened at the end of week two. Tony had almost swallowed his tongue when Steve had patted his shoulder, his hand slipping a little closer to his neck and gently squeezing before walking away. It was past cute and getting past plain stupid as the pair danced around each other. So they did what any normal friends would do and locked them in the gym together, telling JARVIS to keep the door locked until they had talked it out.

“Natasha!” Steve shouted as he pounded on the door again, Tony just sat on the bench with his head in his hands “Natasha!”

“Stop Steve, they’re not gonna open it until we talk” Tony sighed and looked over when the bench dipped beside him, Steve flopping down next to him with a huff and scrubbing his face with his hands. He pulled his hands away and scrunched his nose up in disgust before grabbing the hem of his shirt and using it to wipe at his face, getting rid of the slight sheen of sweat from his workout that he had been in the middle of when Tony had been pushed into the gym.

Tony’s face went bright red as he caught himself staring at Steve’s abs, his eyes darting to Steve’s face to make sure he hadn’t been caught by the other man who had shut his eyes as he dropped his shirt.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Tony” Steve said as he frowned up at the ceiling, eyes still closed so he couldn’t see Tony’s own frown and confused look “I know I shouldn’t have kept doing it when I realised you were uncomfortable, but-”

“What are you talking about?” Tony interrupted and Steve looked over so that they were just frowning at each other, Steve shifted to sit up properly and now that they were sitting next to each other it was clear to see their height difference without Tony’s lifts.

“The ‘practicing’” Steve said with air quotes that made Tony’s lip twitch into a small smile “You always go red and avoid looking at me, you’re obviously uncomfortable with me touching you even if I’m not hurting you”

“Okay that is completely wrong to start off with” Tony held up his hand before Steve could make himself feel even worse because it was pretty clear by his face and what he said that Steve was feeling pretty guilty about something that the blonde had made up “You definitely don’t make me uncomfortable and you also haven’t hurt me before you start worrying about that too”

“Then why do you always look awkward when I’m around, you go all quiet whenever I walk into the room?” Steve asked, still sounding insecure about the answer as his shoulders hunched over a little. Sat like this, Tony could picture Steve before the serum as girls blatantly regretted him like Howard had told him had happened in a drunken drawl on a night where his father was sad instead of angry.

“It’s, uh, really the opposite situation actually. You, uh, I mean-” Tony stammered for a moment before letting out the breath he was accidentally holding “I may have a small, well not really small, crush on you. I, um, I really like you Steve”

Tony kept his head down as the blush burned his face, his ears going red as he stared at his lap nervously, he startled when his chin was tilted up gently with the back of Steve’s hand under his chin so that he was looking up to Steve’s soft, almost fond, smile.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that” Steve whispered into the space between them, he bent down and gently rested his forehead against Tony’s with a smile that almost looked like it hurt “I really like you too, have done for a long time”

Tony smiled bashfully, his eyes darting away before going back up to Steve’s face, only to see that it was somehow a fonder look in his eyes and a knowing smile as he realised why Tony acted the way he did “Pepper says I’m hopeless when I like people, says that I change completely”

“Pepper’s right, but it’s nice, it’s like I get to see a side of you that no one else gets to see” Steve hummed softly which just made Tony blush harder as Steve cupped Tony’s cheek with a question in his eyes, Tony nodded against his forehead with a soft gasp “You sure, ‘cause I don’t think I want to let you go?”

“M’sure, I don’t want you to let go” Tony whispered, still feeling breathless as he stared up into Steve’s crystal blue eyes. Tony’s hand shot out to hold Steve’s wrist when the latter pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and careful and amazing, Tony couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped him as he leaned into the kiss and deepened it like he was dying. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed Tony with such care and fondness, used to the fast, hungry kisses from hookups and harsh touches compared to Steve’s soft hands cradling his face.

Outside the room, the rest of the team were celebrating despite the fact that they knew the pair were going to be disgustingly cute and fluffy with each other all the time, but at least now there wasn’t the sadness and pining going along with it. JARVIS unlocked the door silently and sent an automatic message to Pepper in their own celebration, it was something Pepper and Tony had set up after drinking far too much wine while Tony had been moping around about Steve and had thought today would never happen. 

Today was a day to celebrate, even if tomorrow most of the team would regret it with how overly fluffy the pair were together, today was a long time coming and, hopefully, the two would stand the test of time to come.

[kaweeella]

You Understand? That’s A First For Me

This week’s hyperfixation: yokai.

If there’s anything I get wrong please let me know!

Chapter 1- A New Season A New Home Some New Friends

~~~

“Never tell people your real name.” A young girl’s father would tell her. “Your name is your power. Don’t give that to people.” So she didn’t. And so she doesn’t. Even after her father’s disappearance many long years ago. She never gives her true name. She goes by many names, one she uses most frequently; Izumi.

She could always see things that others couldn’t. Her father told her she has a gift. She could see spirits and other supernatural creatures.

A lot of things can be blamed on the spirits. At least the yokai, she’s not sure about other ghosts or creatures. Yokai do all kinds of things like making noise and cutting hair. Or kill people.

When she was younger she lived in an apartment and made friends with a taka-onna, who’d talk to her. She told Izumi about the people in the red light district. They moved pretty quickly after she told her parents about her.

All of that’s in the past now. It’s the first day of spring. She walks down a cobblestone path. Some of the trees are already turning pink.

Izumi sees a young translucent boy, glowing slightly. He’s wearing a yukata and is staring up at the trees.

“It’s beautiful.” She says, standing next to him.

“Yeah.”

“It won’t be long until they all bloom.”

“These ones normally grow fast.”

“You live around here?” She asks him.

He looks over to her, then around. When he sees there’s no one else he jumps.

“You can see me?!”

“... were we not just having a conversation?”

“Well, people can’t normally see me and it gets lonely so sometimes when people come by I talk at them. Pretend that we’re having a normal conversation, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s nice to be able to talk to you!”

“You too, kid.” She thinks over the yokai she knows. Translucent… child-like… he doesn’t seem dangerous but they can be deceitful. “You’re a yokai, right?”

“Right. I’m a chōpirako.”

She’s never met one of those before, she’ll have to look it up later.

“And I do live nearby. Right over there.” He points down the street, a neighborhood down the way.

“My new house is down that way.”

“You just moved here?”

“Yeah, the trucks’ll be here soon. You wanna go see it?”

“Sure!”

They walk down to her new house, Sakuya gasping when he sees it.

“This is where I live, too!”

“What a coincidence.” That is either really good or really bad.

“I don’t stay in there a lot, no one’s lived in it for a while.”

Izumi lets herself into her new home. She looks at the hardwood floor. It creeks a little as she steps on it.

“Do you like it?” Sakuya enters behind her.

“It’s nice. Might have to do something about the floor.”

After the trucks arrive, Izumi moves in her stuff with the movers. Sakuya makes commentary as they do.

“What’s in this one?” He looks at a box one of the movers is holding.

“Be careful with that one, it’s got family photos in it.”

The mover nods and Sakuya looks closer at the box.

When everything is done and the movers left Izumi lays in her new room.

“How long have you been able to see yokai?”

“My whole life. And not just yokai, just about every supernatural creature I think.”

“That’s so cool!”

“I guess. Most of my classmates didn’t agree. They thought I was the weird ghost girl who’d kill them for looking at me wrong.”

“That’s not nice!”

“Yeah. That’s when we moved for the first time.”

It’s silent for a minute before Sakuya looks out the window.

“It’s getting late, I think you should go to bed.”

“Right. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He leaves the room and Izumi lies down. She tiredly rubs her eyes before grabbing her phone. “Alright…” She looks up a chōpirako. They’re a type of zashiki warashi, child yokai that bring good fortune. They’re the spirit of an only child who was deeply loved by their parents. She doesn’t know if she’d prefer it if he was evil and just lying to her.

She puts her phone down and closes her eyes. She’s still in her jeans and shirt. Doesn’t matter. That’s a tomorrow problem.

Or it would be. Just as she’s about to go to sleep she hears noises and speaking in the other room. She slowly creeps out to see Sakuya looking panicked and nine extremely tiny people. They’re carrying time tools and using them to bang on stuff.

“I’m sorry! I forgot that…” Sakuya says, gesturing to the people.

All of them stop and look at her. They start mumbling.

“A human’s never seen us before.”

“What should we do?”

One of the shorter of them brandishes their hammer.

“No.” One of them says, walking forwards. “So you’re the new resident.”

“Yeah. What are you guys doing?”

“Making noise.” One of them says from atop a table.

“I’m kinda trying to sleep.”

“We know.”

It’s quiet for a moment before the one in the front clears their throat and speaks again. “We take our job very seriously.”

“What’s your job?”

“To make noise in the middle of the night.”

“Why?”

It’s quiet for another moment. “I don’t know. Why do humans have jobs? We just do.”

“And it’s fun!”

“Is there anything else you guys find fun?”

One of them raises their hand. “I saw these guys kicking around a ball a while back. That looked fun.”

“What’d the ball look like?”

“It was white with black spots.”

“Oh I know that game. How about this: I make you guys soccer equipment and you guys do that at night.”

They look at each other, talking without words.

“Okay.”

“But if it sucks then we go back to making noise.”

The one in front looks around. “Hey where’s-”

“Look out below!” A picture on one of the shelves begins to wobble and it falls to the floor.

“Noboru!”

Izumi inspects the picture and sees shards of glass around it.

“We aren’t supposed to break things.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to. Here, let me-” He moves toward the picture but Izumi blocks him.

“Don’t. You might cut your self. Let me deal with it.” She cleans the glass and throws out the frame. She looks at the picture. Her, her mother and her father. It’s a pretty old picture.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” She puts the picture back on the shelf. “I’ll work on the soccer stuff tomorrow, if that’s alright.” Izumi leaves the room. She changes clothes and lays back down. She thinks. What kinds of ghosts are in other places in the world? Like France, for example. Maybe she could work on getting a passport.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

I feel like I need to talk about this...

I’m very open about being aroace. At least here on Tumblr I am. (Outside of Tumblr, I am technically out, but some issues with my mother and grandmother have forced me back into the closet. I felt miserable about that initially, but I’m learning to be fine with it.) But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, I didn’t even know what aroace meant until I was 18. So how was I supposed to know when I got my first ‘celebrity crush’ that those last words do not, in fact, describe very accurately what I was experiencing? I didn’t know I had ADHD, either. I feel like that might have helped me realise some things about my experience. But let me go back a bit and actually tell you what happened and how it happened. [side note: I’ll be starting from a bit earlier than the ‘crush’ thing happened because I feel like it’s important for whoever reads this to understand how my circumstances shaped the experience I had]

Backstory:

I had always been different from my peers, so it was not surprising to anyone that I was bullied in middle school. [side note: Judging from my and my little brother’s combined experience, I feel like bullying is, quite unfortunately, something of a universal experience in middle school - in my day, I was on the receiving end. This last school year, my brother was the bully. Gosh, I wish I could tell my story without many deviations and without crying as I type, but I’ve already thrown both of those intentions out the window.]

So anyway, things got so bad that I was driven to suicidal thoughts. One night I was just lying in bed, thinking about going through with it, but I was like, well, I’ve got a test in the morning. Maybe after that. 13-year-old me had very weird priorities. I kind of still value my work over my mental health, but I’m working on it. So that night, I didn’t do anything. The next day, right before school, I was on the internet and I found out a new show had premiered. And then, as I was watching the pilot episode, that was when it happened. I saw this boy, whom I will not be naming, and I listened to him sing. I felt nothing much at the moment, but I couldn’t get the song out of my mind all day. Up until that moment, I had had a weird attitude towards music where I’d only listen to female singers. My ‘boys have cooties’ phase, I guess you could say. But this one, he was the first one I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I felt like I could listen to his voice 24/7. I’ve had that feeling hundreds of times by now, but I hadn’t before then. So I figured, this must be what a crush means, right? This must be what all my peers are talking about. The next day, I confided in a girl from my class with whom I was kind of friendly (though not actual friends, I’d say). I asked her if she’d seen the show, if she knew this person. She said yes and we kind of gushed about the song together, and I felt normal for a couple of minutes. I never knew the difference between my experience and what is considered ‘normal’ until years later.

For the time being, the thought of this special person was what was keeping me alive. I started having visions of him walking with me through the school hallways or sitting next to me on the bus home from school. I knew perfectly well those visions weren’t real, but they made me feel better. Happy. Safe. Seen. Full disclosure: I still have such visions, I’ve had them with different people through the years as my hyperfixations change. My latest one is what has enabled me to deal with some of my worst phobias (and I have a long list of them). I’ve never told anybody what it is, and I won’t be telling because I feel like if I do tell, the vision will not be strong enough to work against my fears. But I’m getting sidetracked again. Sorry for that.

So, I was pretty much obsessed with this guy. He was all I could think about, he was keeping me alive through what was possibly the toughest time in my life to date. So naturally, thanks to my heteronormative, amatonormative surroundings, I was convinced I had a crush on him. In fact, after this experience had lasted about a year, I was sure I was in love. 

Then things changed. I started high school. I found a couple of friends, and the people in my class in general made me feel like I could finally be myself. Be open about what I thought and how I felt. So by the end of the first semester, all 27 people in my class knew about my feelings for this guy. What I didn’t know was that they didn’t know that it wasn’t exactly like I was describing it. Because I wasn’t aware that a straight/ allo person’s idea of being ‘in love’ was different from mine. I was just putting things in words I thought I understood. 

So it came as a total surprise when some people from my class started teasing me about it. It wasn’t malicious teasing, that much I could tell. I had been bullied mercilessly before. What my new classmates were doing was asking genuine questions in a slightly teasing manner. For example, it would be known that my special person had a girlfriend, and so they’d ask me ‘aren’t you jealous’ or ‘do you wish you were that’, or stuff like that. And those questions felt so weird. So stupid. I thought, wait, why would I be jealous? Why would I feel bad about this person who has made me so happy, being happy himself? Why would I want to date him? That had nothing to do with how I felt. I told my classmates so. They gave me weird looks in response. So I started feeling like there was something wrong with me. Like I wasn’t doing that ‘in love’ thing right. Suddenly, I felt like my feelings were being intruded upon. Tarnished, somehow. I had always been aware that my visions were anything but real. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. And all of a sudden, somebody was suggesting that I should want to date this person. Why would I want to date anyone, I thought? Even if it was him. Dating people was awkward. Making physical contact with anyone outside my immediate family made me shudder. It still does, though I can hug some of my closest friends without any negative feelings. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to my first time I questioned my experience. I was about 14 at the time (in Bulgaria, high school starts from grade 8, ages 13-14 or 14-15), and, well, I didn’t do much questioning at the time. I just told myself that they didn’t understand my feelings, and I stopped being so open about the topic. 

My hyperfixation on this person lasted long. Longer than any other I’ve ever had to date. Maybe it was because I clung to it like it was what tethered me to my mortal life. But by my final year of high school, I could feel it fading away. I was forcing myself to think about this person, to conjure up the old visions; the song that had started it all was drained of all meaning that it had held for me. I was moving on to other hyperfixations. I felt like I was betraying myself, like I was breaking some sort of unbreakable vow. It was time to face the music. So I let go. I allowed myself to move on. It was kind of made easier by the fact that my special person had changed, too, and had moved on to projects that I could not enjoy due to some triggering content. And I moved on.

Then I joined Tumblr. I discovered some things. Among them was Hellenic polytheism. It had been a while since I’d found my faith in the Hellenic pantheon, but Tumblr was where I found out I was not alone, that there was an existent religion. And step by step, I realised that... I had been projecting Apollo’s presence onto my special person. And my old connection to that person had started fading away when I had realised I believed in the gods.

This explained a lot of things. But there was still the fact that I had never been able to look at another person the way my peers were looking at each other. I had been asked out two or three times during high school. I had rejected those people without even thinking about it. My best friend at the time was a boy and most teachers seemed to ship us together because, well, let’s be real - we were constantly fighting like an old married couple. It took him getting a girlfriend and seeing how happy I was for the two of them for everyone to realise that things between us were, and had always been, purely platonic. And now I was going to uni and I had never had feelings I was apparently supposed to have. 

It was also thanks to Tumblr that I discovered the extent of the LGBTQ+ community. I considered myself an ally at first, and I was a passionate ally, too. I still am nothing but supportive to my fellow LGBTQ+ people of all identities, but it was not until I was 18 going on 19 that I discovered the term ‘asexual’. I knew quite suddenly that this was the term for me. I knew what I was and how I felt. I felt mature enough to know the difference between ‘I’m not experienced enough to know for sure’ and ‘I’ve just never had those feelings, I don’t even know what they’re supposed to be like’. It took a bit longer to find out there was a difference between sexual and romantic attraction, but by the time I was 19, I had proudly labelled myself ‘aroace’. I still feel at home with this label. I am completely open to the possibility that it might change with time, but this is what feels right at this time. 

Fast-forward another couple of years to about 8 months ago. I had always known that I got really invested into stuff - shows, books, hobbies, people - only for that investment to wear off after a time. The timespans varied, but I realised I had experienced this ever since I was in pre-school at least. I didn’t have a term for it, though. And then, all of a sudden, Tumblr started offering me posts tagged ADHD. I could relate to maybe 95% of them. At one point, it felt like whatever algorithm this hellsite operates on was shoving the ADHD posts in my face, as if screaming ‘DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF, WELL, YOU?!!!’ in my ears. So I did some tests. I did a lot of self-reflection. I went to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed in March. I started educating myself on the terminology and found out that what I was experiencing is called hyperfixating. So here I am now.

Here I am now, reflecting back on my experience from 8 years ago, connecting the dots. Realising what it was that I went through, allowing myself to go through it again, with different things and people. I don’t feel the need to cling to hyperfixations anymore because I know that is what they are and I know I can’t keep them forever. Of course, I do feel bad about stopping caring about something that used to be my light and life for a time. I dread the time I’ll get over my current hyperfixation, but I also know it’s inevitable. My ADHD brain needs the change and it happens naturally. And somehow I’m ok with that.

Well, this is it. This is the story of how Tumblr prompted me to discover aspects of myself that have been there for as long as I can remember. What better place to talk about it than Tumblr itself? What better group of people to understand and accept me than my lovely mutuals and followers? If you’re reading this, thank you. For being here, for listening to me, for allowing me to be who I am. You’ve got no idea how happy this makes me, even though I can barely see what I’m typing through the tears. Thank you. 

[og-danny-dorito]

Bucky Barnes SFW Headcanons

a new hyperfixation to avoid my growing anxiety with my personal life? yall already know whats up, and i'm feeling angsty so brace yourself

PUBLISHED :  2 - 17 - 20

S F W : 

- to start off of a positive and happy note (jk you already know thats not how it works) its very likely that upon first meeting, any touch directed towards him is met with an alarmed grunt and/or a slap of your hand away

- anything unsolicited makes him nervous and uncomfortable, so if you really do want to pat his shoulder or hug him or something like that you'd have to ask if it's okay first. now it's pretty easy to see the reasoning behind this but for those doubting it i will explain

- big man has been trained to kill in hand to hand combat and advanced weaponry and countless other things, meaning that he's pretty much wired by this point to have a gut reaction that automatically goes to the fight or flight instinct. it doesn't make logical sense that he wouldn't get uncomfortable and jumpy at loud noises and unsolicited touching since his ptsd has accumulated over the years to MAKE him react like that. he doesn't want to accidentally punch you in the teeth

- like yeah he's all tough and shit and could break the a dude’s neck if he really tried, but the issue is that once his walls are broken down he's sort of akin to that of a regulated killing machine having to redo its wiring to be “normal” again. the transition itself would be traumatic, but the process of initiating it would be even more difficult

- so that means that in the first few months of his recovery, he probably would do a lot of absent-minded staring and just long spells of silence where he just doesn't do anything. it's sort of like a reloading point for his brain, and he starts to pick up the habit of daydreaming a lot. sometimes you'll have to say his name a few times to snap him out of it, but when he does come to he looks a little embarrassed

- it's not that easy to elicit an emotional reaction out of him. you'd have to be fairly close with him to actually get most responses out of him that are more than a word long, and so thus starts my favorite trope; hard depressed kill man falls for person who just Keeps Trying

- it's not that easy to get under his skin, but meeting him somewhere normally and constantly talking to him will probably start to make him feel more encouraged to speak in the sense of making normal conversation

- he's a little awkward so in this case patience goes a long way (as does with pretty much everything with him). it gets to the point where after a month or so he may feel weird if he doesn't talk to you at that specific time of the day. if he's grown that fond of you he'll even go out of his way to ask a few people where you are

- part of him hates getting this attached for a number of reasons. there's that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that his environment is temporary and getting attached to the things and people there will hurt him more than he'd like. while he knows that it's not temporary, that he's not leaving anytime soon and probably won't for a while, it all goes back to the killing machine thing

- when he was under hydra’s control, the only thing that was certain was the base he resided in and it's hard to come out of a state of mind where the only thing you know to be continuous is your continued existence as a tool. the place itself brings back horrible memories, but you get what i mean

- so initially he may resist conversation for that very reason

- he tends to pick up on details more than anything, and most of your smaller traits tend to make him quickly used to you. like for instance, if you're prone to pursuing your lips and narrowing your eyes at something odd you've heard or seen, he might find it cute mentally and then immediately correct himself for it. if you tend to snort a little and roll your eyes when you laugh, he's going to notice that and MAYBE try to pay more attention when something funny is said to hear it again

- i would generally think that he doesn't really have much a type or preference at all. in fact, i'm pretty sure the only thing he seemed consciously aware of that he likes in a partner is ability to understand. cause if you can't forgive him for the things he's done and see why he does what he does now, he can't bring himself to feel like he needs to go through all of his self hatred and doubt more intensely than he already is

- he probably is asexual as well but that's sort of iffy considering he's canon been in sexual relationships so that's a maybe. but he's definitely demiromantic. it's not that easy for him to find people attractive anymore. when he starts to get to know you better he starts feeling some sort of way and picking up on MORE details that you may not even notice yourself

- bucky is also incredibly skilled at remembering things you might've said a month ago and completely forgot about. some find this off putting and that's understandable, but when it comes down to it, its a product of sorta okay memory

- “My cousin almost flipped his car over this week.”

- “Phillipe?”

- “Uh, yeah. How did you...?”

- “You mentioned him two weeks ago... when he almost fell of your roof the week before.”

- “I did?”

- remembers dates, names, eye colors, and a multitude of other things, so sometimes he'll just mention something important you may have forgotten and pretend like he definitely wasn't paying too much attention to you. it's surprising how good his memory is even though he can't remember any of his past. so this most likely means that he has issues with remembering events and how they happened, but not the details of them. like how you can remember your shirt color a few week s back but not what you did while wearing that shirt

- and on that note, he kinda shuts down if he gets a weird flashback in the middle of something. they're mostly triggered by smells and sounds, but sometimes if he sees something while he's walking down the street he'll just stop and stare at it. it's best just to stop and stare at it with him, or alternatively if you don't want stares, act like you're taking a picture. but don't talk to him while it's happening cause it'll interrupt the train of thought and derail him completely

- he tends to talk a lot about things if he's grown very invested in them (he's very good at keeping focus). if you're out walking together or just sitting down he might stare and absentmindedly reach out to touch you before stopping himself at the last minute. gently grabbing his hand and placing it wherever he wanted to touch makes him flustered every time. that and hes super soft but is afraid to be vulnerable around anyone

- just gently grabbing his hand makes him all mushy, and it’s more often than not that he finds himself weak when someone shows pretty much any form of affection or endearment towards him

- probably not into pda though, not that much. he will hold your hand if you want to, but don’t expect to like sit in his lap or like straight upstart kissing in public cause any attention in a public setting makes him nervous

- really likes a kind of homey s/o. someone who likes to cook or bake or whatever makes him feel a little bit like he doesn't have to worry about something for a while. like if he comes home and dinner is just waiting on the table for him or you’ve already drawn a bath for him and/or made the bed or whatever, he literally appreciates that above pretty much anything else

- love language is most likely acts of service. hes not very good with words unless he like thinks it out beforehand, but pretty much buys you gifts all the time because he likes seeing you light up when you see them. he does try to spend as much time as he can with you but either anxiety gets the best of him or hes literally too busy, and so it ends up being more distant with him coming over a few times during the week, even if you live together. and we already know the deal with physical touch so im not gonna restate my strong belief in “big man has trauma no touch big man unless A S K”

- but a lot of the things he does are situational. one day he may be very down to be super affectionate and the other he’ll be painfully distant, but the main issue with all of it is that hes very very bad at communication

- this poses an issue for a number of reasons, but his responses and reactions are more physical than anything. so for instance, if hes uncomfortable with something he’ll start to shift and stare and be very tense the whole time it’s occurring, or if he’s feeling a bit more sad or depressed he’ll isolate himself and consistently stand slouched or look as if he hasn't gotten enough sleep. it’s mostly body language, but after a while he’ll feel safe enough to tell you how he feels about certain things

- this takes a while to actually happen, but when it does he manages to just,,, say things that are on his mind. like you’ll be reading or scrolling through your phone or whatever and he’ll randomly be like “The table has a lot of scratches on it.” it’s just observations he has, but usually it translates to him wanting to change the stated fact. best thing to do is just to roll with it, since hes practically learning how to communicate again and he’s picking up on things socially

- now let's get to the “a little fluffy” and “kinda-already-known” shit, shall we?

-  miscellaneous headcanons;

gets jealous pretty easily in the early stages of your relationship, but only ever indicates this by staring the person in question down and refusing to admit to it later

likes having his hair put up into cool hairstyles and likes colored rubber bands (or hair ties if youre not where i'm from). seriously, he may loose his shit if you just like put cool braids in his hair one day like hes a viking or whatever

kind of tone deaf but his singing is more of like this raspy and slightly more “Misty Mountains” vocals sounding

is touch sensitive, so even doing something as small as like rubbing your thumb on his arm makes his hair raise on end

doesn't like his metal arm at all and quite obviously wears long sleeves all the time to hide it, but occasionally wears short sleeves when he's feeling less insecure

oh, super insecure btw and THATS why he feels all mushy when someone is kind to him because he KNOWS he's a freak and that he's weird but you're not still being sweet??? too pure, must protect

gives great hugs since he practically smothers anyone he meets with them, but is also basically a walking heater

is terrified of the idea of taking care of children or just anything weaker than him, but is good with them since they always hang on his arms and hold his legs when he walks

super strong

likes sweets a whole lot, specifically fruity sweets like apple pie or peach cobbler. never bring those wallmart cakes or whatever near him cause it'll be gone in like an hour flat unless you tell him to leave you some

- in conclusion, he needs therapy and probably won't be very responsive when he's not sure what to do. it doesn't mean he loves you any less, but he may have a hard time communicating it to you. all he really needs is some patience and a bit of understanding, and he'll get better with the whole s/o thing soon enough. cause you mean the world to him, and he doesn't want anyone or anything to make you feel like less than that

[self-ships-ahoy]

🎫 here's a gush pass! feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers!

Do you have any idea how much I wanted to receive this?? How much I needed a pass right at this moment??? I’m doing it, I’m pressing E!!

MEDIC GUSH HOURS

I have a lot to say so if you want me to edit this with a cut I will. Cuz this will be LONG.

Oh where do I even start? I love him?? I can’t believe I thought this was familial, there is no going back to that. I’m honestly surprised I was able to suppress it for so long without noticing. I even remember hearing him and thinking what an appealing voice he has-- and not thinking anything of it?? Voices always have something to do with me falling for someone! It’s just how I am! But I’m so happy I realized what I truly felt before too much time passed. Now I can spend Christmas with him as his girlfriend! :D 

And speaking of his voice, it’s instant serotonin. Accents drive me crazy. His is ADORABLE. I love how he pronounces ‘-tion��� as a heavily accented ‘schun’, like dude that’s so German and I love it. The r’s coming from the back of the throat, w’s sometimes halfway between sounding like a v and a w, and...just the way he says his long o’s. X3 And do not get me started on those hilariously cute voice cracks. I once counted 3 in one sentence. Adorable. Can girls get Gomez Syndrome? Cuz when he speaks German it makes my heart go Uber.....and I never got the implant surgery. o///o

Ok...Idk if this is gushing or outing myself...but this man has no right to be this physically attractive. That chiseled jaw, that defined nose, those piercing, focused eyes...not to mention the man’s freakin ripped. The way his coat flows in the wind, how he rolls up his shirt sleeves just past the elbow... It’s been bothering me for days. He’s too good looking. It’s illegal. This is how he became a mercenary: killing people with his good looks. A doctor so attractive, they took away his medical license cuz he kept smirking at patients and killing them. I bet he knows it too. The smug devil. This is a stunning male specimen and I have no idea how he exists. How he’s been allowed to walk the planet like this. Who gave him the right to be that...that good looking?? 

You know what doesn’t help that? Actually, what’s the biggest reason I know about this?? INSTAGRAM EDITS!!! Like oh my gosh some people are just so good at turning us into simps. 

*deep breath* Ok...I’m gonna come down from that to talk about his personality.....and how much of a dork he is.

Well first of all this:

Look at that. Look at how happy he is. Having the time of his life playing polka in his home town. I love this little dork. Hearing him laugh fills me with so much joy! Whenever I’m having trouble smiling, I just listen to his laugh and I start to feel better. You know why? Because him being happy-- genuinely happy and carefree-- is all I want for him. I see him conga dance or do-si-do or play the accordion like this, and just act like a doofus without care, or I see him act all cute and loving to his doves...that’s him enjoying life! And when I see him doing that, it makes me want to do that, because I, too, am a secret doofus. I don’t have to worry about my moods or hyperfixations distancing him and me, cuz we’re the same kind of weird (well...experiments aside >_>). He’s a dork and a diva and kook and I get to be that with him. 

Listen...I do acknowledge his “”problematic”” side, him being a morally grey boundary-breaking surgeon, and sometimes can be emotionally erratic or distant to his patient’s needs....but I’m not scared of him. He’d never hurt me, threaten me, intimidate me, or even tease me if he knew it made me really upset. I’m terrified of needles, so he keeps me at a distance when he’s using them around me. I am respecting who he was designed to be, though also as a self shipper with a whole tf2 comfort au, I...do reserve the right to tone it down a little. Also I’m pretty sure he’s got an undiagnosed mental illness, and I gotta respect that in his characterization. I saw a post talking about how we really should normalize Medic feeling a wide range of emotions instead of just being deranged or manic. He does care about his loved ones; heck he calls his team his friends, now come on, he didn’t have to say that but he did, that’s gotta mean something. That’s the side of him I like to portray, to sort of make him more human. And the great thing about that is, I don’t feel like it’s an uphill battle because even canon recognizes this about him. ...I think this is the paragraph that makes the least sense, cohesively, but bottom line: I know he’s a troublemaker, but he’s also a human being (albeit a fictional one) and I love and respect him no matter what.

I sure hope he’s not suffering too much mentally because of it. If he’s ever emotionally overwrought, I’ll be there for him, whenever he wants me.

That being said.....gosh do I love imaging fun and domestic stuff with him. Cuz again, he’s capable of that! I wanna do that dorky stuff with him I mentioned back there! Sneaking out of the base to go dancing, joining a conga-line mid-battle, playing with the doves, watching our favorite shows on tv together (very sure he watches Hogan’s Heroes X3), doing some R&R after a tough mission, creating inside jokes spoken in German so no one else understands, holding his gentle hands and kissing them, wrapping my arms around him to tell him to take a break from work, watching each other’s faces light up as we talk about science, just....just listening to the sounds of each other’s voices... He has a very nice inside voice (which he rarely uses unprompted, so it’s a treat). I really think he’s as crazy about me as I am about him (for lack of a better word). Gosh just thinking about him being as lovestruck and distracted as I am right now, wow, he probably had to confess or else he’d explode. XD 

You know he can be surprisingly affectionate? Lots of x reader blogs have attributed this to him, one even calling him an “attention-seeking baby’ and honestly I agree. There probably won’t be as many cuddles as I want, but I’m glad at least he likes being loving at all. I can’t wait to tell you about our first kiss. But this is getting very long, and my brain is giving out. I decided to do this at night, when everyone’s in bed! XD

Anyway, this concludes the gush, I love him so much it physically hurts. :D Chances are, I’ll have more to gush about later!