#my thoughts fluctuate on a daily basis

[capriciouswriter207]

Disaster always strikes. Such is the way of the world: apocalypses claim the world, wipe the slate clean for a new batch of people to rise up until their time inevitably comes as well.

The latest of these cataclysms destroyed a grand civilization. The rolling hills of the surrounding savannah, the hills on which this city was constructed, shook and moved as a neverending storm rolled over. Even the driest patch of land was transformed to mud, One man escaped, though not unscathed. One man escaped, though not away. He fled underground, where the storm was reduced to trickles of water and the mud did not slide so far down. Down, where mobs saw their chance and attacked on sight, some torches and lanterns knocked off the wall or shattered after the impact of the tremors. Down, away from the tragedy.

Those who know the story are few and far between. Some say he died. Some say he lived, but barely. In either case, they say he never left that cave again, that his ghost still haunts those depths, that he perished in the darkness.

All of them are missing a crucial detail: none of them know about the Machine. None of them know about this civilization's deepest and darkest secret, previously tended to by one man and one man only because everyone (even its creator) feared its power. None of them know its engineer thought only of his greatest creation in these dire times and sought it out, even as mobs swarmed him. But even mobs dared not enter the chamber that housed the Machine, the sculk spilling and creeping from the pit within which it was created. Dimly-lit patches of blue crawling in an ever-shifting tapestry of silence. The darkness oppressive, the patches hypnotic, yearning whispers desperately reaching out to lost souls like them. Its engineer sank through his knees on the threshold, barely any strength to crawl closer to his magnum opus. His blood fueled the few veins of sculk already around him, spreading cross stone and flesh. It knew he was dying; it knew his time was coming to an end; it knew what this man had come here for.

Indiscriminately, the sculk spread across him as he bled out, his fleeting life a source of nourishment. More tremors shook the cave in which it resided. The man lost consciousness, half his body claimed, as the chamber partially caved in and the Machine shut down.

Nobody knows how the Machine sprung back to life. Nobody knows where it stands, or that it exists. They barely remembered the Ancient Capital until a friendly yet mysterious archaeologist put it back on the map.

The archaeologist had rested all that time. His mind slept, his transformed body in stasis. He awoke to a soft hum, the sculk around him coming to life as the same happened to him. The change was immediately noticeable - not quite human anymore, but not completely sculk either. In his confusion, uncertainty and fear, he stood up and staggered to the surface. The sunlight greeted him as though nothing had changed, but his home was in ruins.

He only met people after he could control it - both his urges and the little bits that sometimes oozed from him. The space between him and the sculk below was big enough, the transformation incomplete, the connection not as strong as it could be. His control reached as far as being able to suppress it and pass for a normal person. That was all he needed or wanted to be able to do. That was all he should be able to do.

Nobody had any reason to suspect him. By that time, he'd developed some quirks the others focused their attention on. The dirt perpetually stuck to him covered for any darker spots, his sense of preservation was brought up before his sensitivity to loud noise.

Yet he breathed, he ate, he slept, he lived.

Even if dying mobs always drew his attention in an unhealthy way.

Even if the Deep Dark called to him, still.

Even if he sometimes felt like mind and body were slowly slipping away.

Disaster always strikes. Such is the way of the world. And Pixlriffs has experienced this first hand.

[bunji-enthusiast]

I'm so sorry if I filled up your request box! I'll try and slow down the requests 💀

But, think about this, Catnap and Dogday both being clingy towards Smiling Critter! Reader 👀✨ perhaps they're both acting this way due to the Reader spending less time with them, part of it due to the Playcare getting busier and busier with new orphans coming in. The other Critters also felt a left out but not as much as Catnap and Dogday. The reader indulged them in their clinginess but oh my Prototype, the reader suddenly has to get transferred to the game station??

For what reason is up to you along with the rest of the idea, I wanna see what you can cooked up 👀✨

Good luckkk 👀✨👍

Alternative For Two

Note || I love a challenge! I hope this lived up to your expectations 🤞

WC || 1,279

Sypnosis || two clingy little boys desperately trying to get your attention once more, but what happens once they learn of your sudden transfer?

More often than not, you were quite distant. Indifferent to hanging around the other Smiling Critters, on a daily basis there always seemed to be more and more orphans coming in and out of Playcare. So you were busy tending to them as much as possible. 

Then there was DogDay and CatNap, they were also playcare attendants but they had a particular clinginess to hanging around you–you always indulged in affections for them. They were absolutely fluffy, and you didn’t mind putting aside some time for them.

Yet as of late, you were busier and busier with each passing moment. Well, not always could your time be occupied, by mandatory state regulation you had to have breaks from time to time. 

CatNap and DogDay were a little worried, being a little more clingy as time passed. You had wondered before why they were behaving this way, you just had been busy is all. There are many orphans to take care of and tend to.

“This is interestin’.” You murmur, seeing official paper of transfer right in front of your very eyes. You truly didn’t expect to see something like this today, but your only biggest problem is how you would tell your friends you are being transferred. No less the reason being it is for it. 

Especially with having two particularly clingy friends of yours at the hip, always vying for your attention for some odd reason.

Perhaps, you thought, that you could distance yourself for a while. Long enough for every single one of your friends to start getting detached from you, you weren’t going to be able to see them as often as you would anymore.

Even more-so, management had only just now decided to transfer you to game station of all places? 

“Crazy, if you ask me.” Another voice broke you out of your thoughts, “I thought Mommy handled the station?” KickinChicken, one of your many friends. He was more keen on keeping secrets more than anything, inquiring about the girgaum of information management that had been passing lately. 

You nodded, setting the paper at your side. “You're right, I suppose they needed more hands? There have been more and more orphans coming into both the game station and Playcare as of late.” You cross your arms, tapping your foot as you think about it more clearly. 

KickinChicken shrugs, not even a hint of amusement shining through his expression. “I dunno, but I really wished you could stay here with us.” 

You too, wished for the same condition. “Oh but, I feel bad for DogDay and CatNap too.” You mutter, your voice clearly not being masked as your strained emotions shined through. KickinChicken laid a hand on your shoulder, rarely had he been the one to reassure someone, but this was right now.

“When’s all said and done, they’re your friends.” Your yellow-feathered companion nodded without a shadow of doubt betraying his unwavering confidence, “I’m sure they’ll understand.” 

KickinChicken was right, they’re your friends you had reminded yourself–with an affirmed nod. “I guess you’d be right, I shouldn’t be that doubtful of them.” You spoke slowly, letting out a fluctuating groan once more. 

“Well,” He began after the time had passed, very awkwardly. “You’ve still got time and things to do here, right? Cherish it, y’know.” KickinChicken removed his feathered hand from your shoulder, taking a step back from you. 

“Anyway, I gotta go take care of some kids.” He waved, a silence filled the air before he finally decided to elaborate, “A group got assigned to me.” To which in turn you nodded, he prompted a step of hesitance–then left you alone with your thoughts. 

You sighed once KickinChicken left, your shoulders slumping as you were practically left in a defeated state.

Ah, why did the gift of existing have to be so complicated?

All the children in the room with you were right as rain, everything was going smoothly. You just didn’t expect such a sudden surprise from behind when a mysterious figure hugged you from behind, you yelped and turned around to see who it was. 

“CatNap!” You utter without missing a semblance of a beat, looking up to see his beady white eyes interlocking with yours. 

“Very… distant.” CatNap mumbled, audible enough for you to hear, no one else is close enough to hear your conversation. You raised a brow at what he had meant, blinking at him in confusion for a few moments to discern the meaning behind his words. He relaxed his hold on you, then sat down.

Finally, the cogs in your head had adjusted correctly, “OH! I’m just… pretty busy.” You nodded, “You know how it is with all the new orphans we’ve been taking in lately.” CatNap’s head lolled about as if he was heeding your words, considering them. 

“No kidding!” Another interjected, your head turned to figure the source of the new voice, it was DogDay! How surprising it is they are both with you now and again. “But I’m glad we can help them, they aren’t alone as we aren’t either Angel.”

DogDay nodded, proud of his statement. CatNap stepped sideways a little bit to make room for the sunny dog who was now sitting down next to CatNap. 

“I suppose this is an intervention or something?” You inquired, your brow raised with a quirk as you set down the box of toys that you had held steady in your hands. DogDay raised his hands, slightly flailing about as if a blush of embarrassment bloomed across his brightly orange-yellow face. “Not at all! We just like spending time with you.” DogDay replied, CatNap nodding along at the dog’s words as he spoke.

Your tense expression eased up, still not letting up on the fact you felt a ball of anxiety forming in your gut, about ready to cause you to burst into tears. About any emotion really. A sort of darkness overshadows your own heart in this very moment, allowing you to stay still and remain calm. Whatever your feeling right now was most likely untrue or unnecessary.

“Well alright, mind helping me with these then?” You heaved a heavy breath as you picked up the box of toys, gesturing to the other ones you had at your feet. 

DogDay and CatNap looked to where you had pointed, then nodded, already making movements to take one each and follow you behind. “So, I was wondering… maybe you want to hang out with the rest of us later?” DogDay wanted to ask what was up with you, but he didn’t want to probe you for answers, thinking it to be rude. Merely only asking a silly question.

“After this? Sure!” You grin, beaming with excitement at the prospect.

They really wished you would have stuck to your promise, you weren’t one to make and break promises just like that. DogDay was happy to hang with you again after some time now, as was CatNap (in spite of being a very tired cat). 

“We just now know of this?” DogDay’s voice trembled, holding the official paper that would notify you of transfer.

It had seemed you were whisked away to be transferred earlier to the game station then expected. Only KickinChicken knew of this, which was the only way to tell CatNap and DogDay about your predicament.

KickinChicken frowned, shrugging as his foot kicked away a stray plastic pebble. CatNap was remaining quiet, even more eerily than usual–that wasn’t normal. “M’ sorry, I assumed [First Name] would’ve told you beforehand?”

CatNap shook his head, DogDay’s fabricated lips pursed, his expression contorting to that of a defeated state.

You were really gone.

[justatypicalwizard]

Rough and new | bakugo | part two

✦ Summary: You meet a new and interesting creature that seems to share your curiosity. Both of you have motives to your actions that turn out to be vastly different.

✦ Warnings: mer!Bakugo, fem!reader, adult reader, smut(ish) content due to the curcumstances of the story do not expect full smut, dubcon

Minors do not interact

Humans are specific, very weird in their actions and customs yet, like every other creature in the world, they deserve respect. Some mers know a lot about humans just as some humans know a lot about mers but on a daily basis the sea specimens don’t really care for the two-legged. They were always present in the world and that’s just it. 

Due to that, humans were never really present in Bakugo’s mind. He never anticipated he would become so attached to one of them.

It was a peaceful day of hunting, guarding and all of the other shit he has to do for the colony. The dynamic of the group he’s in fluctuates easily. It’s a mixed group of mers, which in his mother’s opinion is healthier than living in a similarity-exclusive one. Because of that the mers living in this place are of all colours and shapes. Because of that he was also destined for a certain role. His mother taught him, from the very beginning, how to be a warrior, a tough and resistant one. At a very young age he picked his weapon- a sword. 

Now he was sitting on a rock next to the main gate of his group habitat. It was hard to give a proper name for places like this. Mers mostly availed what the natural landscape gave them, building their homes from what they found. Bakugo’s home was situated in an underwater cave hideout. The undetermined and rough shape of its inside has been softened by decorations, lamps and various different signs of family life. Yeah, the whole group of mers was mostly like a big family. Smaller caves, often connected to others by winding tunnels and corridors, were occupied by single mers or families. Elders and adults spent their time educating the younger, pursuing the groups history by painting murals or telling stories or just simply scolding the youth for their dubious games and horrific lifestyle. The stronger ones went hunting or guarded the main, and a few smaller gates. Pup’s swam everywhere when it was not lesson time playing the, earlier mentioned, dubious games. 

Bakugo rested his back on the stone grumbling to himself out of boredom. He was well aware of how important keeping guard was. Even though nothing happened to their hideout for years it didn’t mean they could underestimate what the sea hid beneath its dark waters. As important as the job is, it is also painfully boring. Sitting with his sword sheathed on his back he looked at Kiri situated on the other side of the gate. The redheaded mer swung a heavy war hammer in his hands, back and forth. Ditching the designated sitting spot for a guard, Bakugo swam to his friend.

‘’Whatcha doin’ Katsuki?’’ Kiri’s soft yet masculine voice rang through the silent, slightly too loud.

‘’You saw me for the last thirty minutes, what could I be doing?’’ Bakugo asked, slightly annoyed. He wasn’t irritated by his friend but more because of the overwhelming boredom. 

‘’I don’t know, I’m gonna fall asleep any second now.’’ The redhead sighed, not losing the wide smile from his prominent face. He was so used to Bakugo’s causticity that he didn’t mind the snarky remarks.

‘’Better not, my old hag is gonna bring us food any minute now and she will kill you if she finds you asleep.’’ The blonde smirked at the thought of his mom giving Kiri, yet another, earful. She treated Kirishima like her own son which ment hard love and a lot of scolding.

‘’Thanks for reminding me that I’m hungry, now ‘m not only bored but also starving.’’ Kiri deflated on the stone he was sitting on. 

‘’Worry none.’’ Another blonde mer swam their way making Kirishima perk up on the stone and Bakugo turn around with an always present frown. ‘’Here boys.’’ His mother handed them fish placed neatly on seaweed. It was chopped and decorated with some seasoning but still pretty much raw. ‘’And why exactly are you not sitting on that stone?’’ Bakugo’s mother pointed to her left with a scrutinising glance.

‘’To piss you off.’’ He spat before digging into his meal.

‘’Thank you for the food.’’ Kirishima tried to sooth the growing tension between the two explosive mers but his tries backfired instantly.

‘’Yes, thank you to Eijiro. Don’t you think using magic words would be nice brat, eh?’’ Bakugo’s mother swam closer to him, yet her son kept ignoring her, on purpose. ‘’Do you really think this is a fucking game between you and me?’’

In their pup’s years Bakugo always fought with his mother. Having no proper fatherly figure he was forced to rely on her. She never let him down but there was one certain problem. The two shared nearly identical tempers which turned out to be a minefield. From the very beginning Kiri remembered Bakugo always ranting about how stupid his mum is and how much she expects from him. Of course he didn’t really think like that, at least not about the first part. On the other hand the expectations… they were high.

Bakugo’s, Kirishima’s and a few other families had been the main guards and warriors of the whole colony for a long time now. Raising him a certain way was obvious and the blonde didn’t have a problem with it, at least with most parts. He loved being a warrior, training and fighting, bathing in the glory that no other speciality could encompass (at least that’s how he saw himself in his head). Unfortunately there was one thing that he never agreed to and always fought off.

The mating.

Kirishima was well aware that the same responsibility lay on his shoulders, but for his own peace his parents didn’t pressure him about it. The thought rooted in his head was enough for them to be calm about their son living up to the expectations. Bakugo on the other hand openly voiced out his total disagreement. His tossing around made a handful of elders disappointed in him which also took a toll on his mother's reputation. These old pricks were so dramatic.

The duty was simple. As a warrior, mate in the best and most fertile years of your life. The later you’d start the lower the chances of breeding another great warrior. That’s something the colony could not suffer. Actively look for a mate or at least don’t brag about ditching your responsibilities (like a certain someone). The colony gave you the best meat, the best sleeping quarters, the best jewellery, all in thanks for your sacrifice, your hard training, your long hours of guard and your simple, natural duty of passing down your power with your blood.

This is why some looked at Bakugo with a mixture of emotions. He was great in everything he did, except for that one little thing. Why can’t he just obey? 

Why? The answer is simple and one that the explosive blonde would never voice out to anyone. He was sacred. Mers mated for life so he had only one choice, for eternity. This made uneasiness bubble inside of his chest as if someone constantly reminded him that one mistake would doom him. He didn’t want a life of spite. For the one person in the whole sea who is supposed to be his soft spot and safe shore to be his collar. 

Bakugo couldn’t believe how careless Kiri was about the topic. How little fear he felt. The redhead always said that he’ll just wait a bit more. Maybe the person isn’t from their colony, maybe he should visit some neighbour mer hideouts and look around there. He believes that when he meets the one he’ll know in an instant.

Oh yeah, Kiri was all ears for the elders' stories about how monogamy is rooted in mers DNA, how meeting the right person sparks something in you. It only takes the scent of the other person to recognise that you only have a half of your heart, the other piece is in their hands.

Bullshit.

Bakugo never believed in this shit. It was all a bluff to make them less hesitant about the mating for life. Nothing like that happened, at least not on a daily basis, not with everyone. The harsh truth was that he’d have to court someone he doesn’t even probably like and then bear with them for the rest of his life. And produce pups, oh for fuck’s sake, he’s so done with this. Nothing in the sea will make him end up like that. Not a chance.

Lately such thoughts clouded his mind every time he talked with his mother. Bakugo saw that behind her eyes, felt that in her angry tone. She was counting time for him, she was well aware of his statement, she hated it. Yet, she cared for him. If it wasn’t for the sheer fear of being kicked out of the colony which meant countless dangers for her son and a lifetime of loneliness, she wouldn’t pressure him as much.

Just bear with it, accept it and don’t be so hung up on the one small topic. You just have to make a few pups and move to a different pit. Later you can live your life how you want it to. Please…

Yet, she knew he wouldn’t listen to her begs. Softness and sweet words never laid in their dynamic. It was anger, frustration and ambition that pushed them, both of them, to the goal. She knew she had to do it like that, even if it wounded her heart.

‘’Not a chance.’’ Bakugo spat at his mother. ‘’Leave me.’’

She rolled her eyes knowing well, spotting it in his composure, that he didn’t mean the food she just brought, the long hours of guard he had to keep today or anything else. He was already deep down spiralling in his self-destructive thoughts.

She had to pressure him.

‘’Can you at least once in some time do what you’re asked and supposed to.’’ She growled at her son.

‘’And what the fuck do you mean by that?’’ His gaze was piercing but so was hers.

‘’You know damn well what I mean by that.’’ She pointed her finger straight into his muscular chest. He was bigger than her but their presence was identical, clashing, none of them able to take complete power over the other. ‘’What do you plan for mating Eiji?’’ Both of their blonde heads darted Kirishima’s way. The redhead prayed for this to stop before they smash him to the ground with their hateful gazes.

‘’I don't know yet…’’ He tried to wiggle out not hurting Bakugo but also not getting on his mum’s bad side.

‘’Don’t you lie to me.’’ That scrutinising finger pointed his way this time and he felt daggers shot at his chest in embarrassment. She read him like a book.

‘’I think I’ll visit some… other… colony…’’ Each word that rolled out of his mouth was more and more quiet until he was mumbling under his breath looking everywhere except for the two mers in front of him. If he’d stand up he'd be bigger than both of them but unfortunately he sat on that damn rock, looking small and not very serious afraid to move even an inch under Bakugo’s mother’s gaze.

‘’See? Is it that fucking hard to do anything?’’

Pretend, just pretend you’re doing something. You don’t need to settle down if you hate it that much. I don’t care if you breed another warrior, I just want you to be at peace finally.

She couldn’t tell him what she really thought. It would be wrong, not educational. She just prayed he would finally get to it on his own and pretend until people forget about this issue. He could say that he tried but never found anyone and they would believe, take care of him, saying how sorry they are that he didn’t find the one. And he would have lied to them for a bit and it would all be over.

‘’I’m not doing anything like that. Leave me.’’ Her son was unmovable, his feelings carved deep down into his soul. Stupidity and lack of cleverness too. Maybe also being truthful, he couldn't lie like that to himself or anyone else. What a disaster.

She left, huffing and puffing. He was also fuming for the rest of the guard with Kiri trying to lighten his humour, telling him that they can go together to search in other mer hideouts. 

As his job for today neared its end Bakugo found his way back to their lair, having changed the guards. He was still angry, the intrusive thoughts never leaving his head. The blonde swam around pointlessly hissing at the pups that bounced off of his tail. He wasn’t able to find a place for himself. This feeling was familiar to him, as if the multiple layers of water above pressured him too much, crushing his form.

‘’Another fight for mating?’’ The blonde heard a familiar screeching voice.

Skula, one of the most elderly elders, swam up to him. Subconsciously he slowed down his pace for the crippling mer to catch up. She looked as if she was to fall apart any second. He honestly asked himself how old she was. Some said she forgot and came up with a random number every time someone asked about it. That way sometimes she was 98, other times 105, on better days 21.

One thing about Skula distinguished her from the majority of elders. She honestly liked Bakugo and believed in him without even a tint of dissapointment. Skula remembered the old days when the sea wasn’t as peaceful as it is now, maybe that’s why she had a soft spot for any warrior, or maybe she just recognised Bakugo’s distress.

Nevermind her motives, she held onto his fin, the one situated beneath his back. Usually that spot was reserved for more… intimate situations but Bakugo knew damn well that this old witch wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to entertain herself before she dies (and she looks like she’s ready to die anytime soon).

‘’Oh, you just swim too fast, I need some help.’’ She laughed at his eyes rolling.

‘’You just want a handful old hag.’’ Skula brushed off his remark. 

‘’Another fight?’’ She pressured the youngster.

Bakugo only nodded. He never knew why but this woman always made him open up, even if it was just a tiny crack in his various defensive layers.

‘’Go clear your head before you bite any pup.’’ She patted his back a few times.

‘’No place for it here.’’

‘’You’re hot-tempered, angry and aggressive.’’ She began in a slightly lower tone, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her. Bakugo looked at her wrinkled face that held a mysterious tone in it. Was she about to start again with the stupid shells and rocks she’s been looking into all day long? Prophecies and shit? ‘’The ocean’s cold and calm, deep, dark and mysterious. You’re none like it. You shine my young Bakugo.’’ She circled soothing eights up and down his back. ‘’Don’t blame yourself for feeling out of place here when your heart’s not at peace.’’

‘’Do you really mean that I’m just a shity mer?’’

‘’No stupid, listen to me.’’ She huffed at his flat response. ‘’You need something else. I want you to see something. The waves told me about it.’’ There you go again. ‘’There’s something matching your temper that you need to see with your very own eyes. Something as hot…’’

If she’ll really tell me in a second that this hot thing is my butt then I’ll honestly kill…

‘’It’s up there.’’ Skula pointed her crippled finger upwards, following with her eyes. ‘’It’s big, hot and golden. It’s gonna speak to you, listen to all of your problems and tell you what to do.’’ She was mysterious yet enthusiastic.

Normally Bakugo didn’t follow Skula’s different prophecies and things she read out of scattered stones but this time…

‘’D’you mean above the water?’’

She nodded her head a little too fast, it looked like it could crack.

‘’You want me to swim to the surface and talk to… something big and fucking golden?’’

‘’Exactly.’’

This was stupid enough to entertain him. Beside there was one crucial thing that Bakugo was interested in. He never swam to the surface. It’s not forbidden but why should anyone do it? There was nothing interesting there for him. He heard stories that the surface felt hot, or extremely cold. It depended on something but he didn’t remember what it was called. Sometimes water poured from… something there. Ah shit, he didn’t know anything about the surface… and this only made him more interested.

‘’And when should I go, oh mighty oracle?’’ Bakugo asked Skula theatrically.

‘’Now.’’ She stated simply as if it was nothing.

‘’Now?’’

‘’I thought I was the deaf one.’’ She snickered.

‘’Don’t laugh at me old hag.’’

‘’Go, nothing’s gonna happen. Nothing bad my child.’’ 

‘’Mum will…’’

‘’I’ll tell her it’s my fault. What will she do? Shout at me, an elder?’’ Bakugo honestly loved this old witch and how she still fearlessly lived her life. Jokes will never leave her side.

So Bakugo went, up and up and up. With only his sword, frustration and the stupid little prophecy that a golden thing will cure his problems. It felt tiring, as if the water above was endless. He imagined what it would look like, the very top. Would it be a single, straight line or did the water disappear gradually? Swirling and turning he went up, climbing layers and layers of water. It started to feel warmer. Why?

After a long journey he neared what looked like a breaking point. The water looked weird here, like it was pierced by something light. He had to squint his red eyes, slowly nearing the edge. Anxiety flooded over his body, pumped by his racing brain. Was he scared? Yes he was but he’ll never recognise it. Clenching his fists he swam up, finally breaking the surface.

‘’Ah fuck!’’ The mer growled as the sun burned his eyes.

After what felt like an eternity of pain his eyes finally started to adjust to the new light source. It was so bright, so hot it fact. He felt it on his cheeks. Was this why the water here was so hot? Guarding his eyes with his hands he looked around. The surface was weird, not exactly flat but also not gradual. It moved constantly, splashing aggressively. He liked it. There were some elements in his field of vision that seemed to stand still. One of them was a big rock. At least that’s what the thing looked like, it was similar to boulders down in his hideout so he just assumed the obvious.

Bakugo swam up to the rock. It sank deep down, reaching the downhill seabed. Behind this one there were a few more on them. Then he remembered. Big, hot, golden thing. Groaning, he felt the need to do as Skula pleased. She was the one that gave him this idea and he had to admit, the surface was more than he imagined. He felt so good here, between his and this world. The blonde honestly started to like how that hot feeling falling from above him kissed his wet cheeks, whatever it was.

He looked around, not spotting anything in particular. Then, he looked up.

‘’Fucking shit my eyes!’’ Once again he was blinded.

Shielding his face with his palm he took a glance up. There was something big there, yellow or maybe orange… gold? A very warm colour at least. The warmth seemed to flow from that. Was it the thing that Skula talked about? Did her prophecy really come true? Then did every one of her prophecies mean something? (If yes then he had a problem because she often foretell for him various stupid things)

Should he really talk to that thing? It seems pretty static and… not doing anything. He hated feeling dumb and that’s exactly how he felt right now.

Suddenly something splashed into the water near him. Instantly he lowered himself, burying his head under the surface. From behind the sunken boulder he saw some commotion in the water. Something was there, something big in fact. Should he retreat? No, he’s not a coward. 

The thing stopped moving after a few seconds and he waited. It seemed like an eternity of him, hiding behind the boulder observing the very same spot, waiting for the thing to make its next move. It never came, the water splashed above him like it did all the time, swaying him back and forth against the stone.

His turn. Bakugo swam up closer, slaloming between the few stones underwater. Finally, he reached the one that particularly interested him. Something above the surface moved there and then went still. He couldn’t make out the exact shape because of the waves. He had to swim closer.

Putting both of his hands on the stones surface she went up once again, nearing the strange thing. The closer he got the clearer the image. The thing started to look just like him… at least its upper part. It had a face, hair, a torso, hands that held it form as if it was scared and…

As if he’d been lightstruck something clicked in his brain. That smell, that faint tint. He felt intoxicated as if he could only breathe this for the rest of his life. What the fuck was that? Why did he never feel it? Where is the source?

The thing moved, and he saw a hand stretched his way. The palm, the fingers looked just like this, except for his membrane. It didn’t have a membrane… that’s a human. The first human Bakugo ever saw in his life.

The faint smell hit him again. The human put their hand under the surface and touched his hair. He didn’t have a clue why he allowed all of this. Some mere human roaming their hands all over his head… but he liked it. The small fingers grazed his forehead slightly, their touch soft and subtle. It moved lower. With its palm just under his nose he finally got what he was looking for. That sweet intoxicating smell came from this human.

Bakugo felt a million emotions rush at one time. He was hungry, desperate, interested, intoxicated and horny. Could it be? Is this his mate? Do they feel the same?

He grabbed the tiny wrist connected to the small arm (at least compared to his). The human jumped back and started to squirm but Bakugo didn’t care. He was too high on the new feeling springing inside his ever so cold body to acknowledge that the human didn’t look at bliss like him. He pushed himself more and more wanting to show off his body and inspect the mate, subconsciously knowing how to court.

Suddenly the human screamed. The primal sound tore him out of his clouded state and he dipped back into the water slightly. The human hugged their wrist, then looked at it and finally after some time showed it to the mer. He saw a bruise in the shape of his hand.

Did he just hurt his mate? Were they this delicate? Fuck, he should have known. This was definitely not very courtesy of him.

‘’Fuck.’’ He mumbled.

Looking up at the human’s face he saw that the earlier fear subsided to curiosity once more. Were they also interested? He had to check.

Emerging from the water he sat next to the thing. It was harder than he anticipated, slipping at the first try. Something pulled him down like it was crashing down from above him, he felt heavy here. It didn’t matter, the intoxicating smell was more important.

Bakugo followed the human’s eyes and spotted that they’re looking at his tail. The small hand of the creature neared his scales. He felt excited, deep down he wanted this touch, he wanted that human’s hands all over the place where his skin met with orange scales. He wanted to tangle the human, wrap around them, claiming all of their body. He was blind to the crucial differences between him and them. Yet, his mum raised him to be somehow a good boy, or at least to have some manners. This was too intimate for seeing each other for the first time so he slapped the human’s hand away, much to his own displeasure.

He was happy, no, he was in a state of complete bliss. The creature, his mate, wanted to be close to him, wanted to claim his body just as he wanted to take theirs, they just showed it. The eagerness, that look in their eyes. Do they also feel intoxicated by the scent of his body? Should he show off more? Should he unsheathe his sword and show combat skills? No, he could scare them just as he hurt them a moment ago. This creature’s very delicate. 

Bakugo was honestly out of his mind right now, blinded by something written deep down in his DNA. He wanted to touch the human, subtly, let them know that he wants to take it slow, the right way, and court them like they deserve. They didn’t once talk to him so he also stayed silent a bit scared after what he did to the human’s wrist.

Bakugo dipped his hand into the human’s hair. It was soft, extremely soft and delicate. It felt like nothing he had ever touched in his life. He smeared his hands all around the weirs texture wanting to feel the most of it until he heard something pierce his ears.

It was the human’s sound. He had no clue what it meant, not understanding a single thing but he loved it. The tone, so much more melodic than how he and his species spoke. Or at least that’s what he thought. He wanted more of that sound so he continued to play with the human’s hair.

That smell, it was still all around him, dripping off of the creature’s body. He wanted to scoop closer. Bakugo held the human’s hair and exposed their neck for him. The smell was thick there so he buried his face into the crook of their neck. It made his insides twist out of hunger and need. He wanted to devour them, have all this sweetness to himself, bathe in it, let his own skin soak with it. But he’s gonna play it nice, just like they deserve.

What did your body look like? He wanted to know every inch, every important thing. Their teeth, were they sharp like his? Do they have pointy canines just like him? He dug his finger inside the human’s mouth searching for an answer. They started to squirm. Did he annoy them a bit? He liked the thought. Loved the feeling of their body moving under his. He could make the trash, he wanted to hear those primal sounds erupting from their throat just for him and because of him. But he’s gonna play it nice.

Bakugo found his answer. The human’s canines were short and soft, just as he imagined. It was not perfect for raw fish but he didn’t care, the feeling of his mate being weaker and softer than him made him want to claim here and now. But he’s nice. 

The blonde straightened his back moving away from his mate. He looked them up and down, pleased with what he had, excited for what he would do next, how their relationship would bloom and how he’d make them feel. He was still blind to the fact that your bodies were very… different.

PART ONE | PART THREE

SERIES MASTERLIST

[trashlama]

Yan future mikey with a chubby reader beimg all cute and shit and then the crazy kicks in (I beg you for some future boys contest-hope you're oki bye)

Hmmmm fluffy and crazy? I think I can work with this~

Instead of the usual future Yan turtles where they're usually depicted in the apocalyptic future. This one will take place in the fixed timeline future. Sorry I suck at explaining things.

This is basically a mix between a one-shot/drabble/headcanon

Like I started with Headcanons became drabble/one shot.

Sorry for being so late on this! Last week was hectic between work and my personal life.

I could've probably proofread it some more but, I didn't.

Ahhhh I hope you guys like this!

Cause personally I feel like I could've done better/more but, I suck. Anyways—

Warning! This is pretty fluffy. Seek your dentist for any fluff related cavities.

Enjoy!

I do not own this meme just found it on Pinterest and thought it was funny.

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Mikey is such a good boyfriend.

A spontaneous ball of dorky energy the box turtle was artistic both in and out of the kitchen. His kindness did not discriminate. Good or bad typically, if the youngest Hamato could help it he would rather make peace not war.

It was something you liked about the orange clad mutant. Especially since he didn't mind your self-proclaimed defects.

You love adult ninja turtle you really do. However regardless the little voice in the back of your mind continued to plant seeds of doubt.

Was Michaelangelo satisfied with you?

You hadn't tried to express it often— but you had your trepidations about sharing your insecurities with anyone, even your boyfriend. You didn't want to be annoying.

These fears were silly, you knew this. Mikey loves you. The mystic mutant recited all the time how beautiful you are. To him apparently despite your self criticism you were a devine work of art. Love handles, pouches, wings, fupas— he adored them all. You didn't need to wear a size nine to fit in his heart.

It didn't matter. For all the reasons that the box turtle gave you for why you were a perfect match for him. The insecurities still sat there. Like a sunken stone at the bottom of the lake. It sitting there always. Forever.

Regularly wondering if Michelangelo really did prefer a ugly pumpkin to a picture perfect apple. Had it been a ruse? Was he just playin' the role of a good partner? Sayin' and doin' what you're supposed to tell a person you want to be intimate with.

Lately these polluting thoughts began to resurface again. Reanimated by the recent onslaught of teasing from some dumb college kids that were enrolled at the same University as you. A group of well-known douche-bags that you avoided like the plague on campus; but unfortunately shared a physics class with. The dumbass brigade like vultures, waited for opportunities to feed their fragile masculinities. Receiving petty pleasure from belittling any flawed individuals that crossed their starving gazes. Ravishing in whatever responses they could elicite.

For the better part of the first semester of third-year physics you had somehow managed to go undetected by said frat squad. Camouflaged in fluffy sweaters and poofy joggers had aided you in being incognito for the first nine weeks but, now the weather was changing. Spring has finally come and has gifted you the middle finger. As temperatures fluctuated so did your wardrobe.

You hated the warmer months just for this reason.

The months of hiding your jiggling stretch marked shame behind winter attire has come to an end. Forcing your hand with high temps to make you wear thinner layers. Baggy jeans and big shirts were your new seasonal battle armor. Unlike your impenetrable winter suit, the spring set was far more vulnerable. The thinner layers and lack of long sleeves basically painted a bullseye on you that the frat group gladly shot at on a daily basis. In spite of your countless efforts to starve the scavengers; the group of boys still hurt you. Conceal don't feel, you certainly didn't let it show. Their poking fun at your voluptuous figure and big tits were nothing new. Nor the endless questioning of your innocence and intelligence. It was just another schoolyard taunt that you didn't bother with a response.

Until you did. Maybe not vocally but the show of your shaky figure fleeing the classroom gave the gaggle of boys all the satisfaction they'd desired as their mocking laughter chasing you out as you retreated out into the university's hallway. Fleeing the campus without a second thought.

The crude harassment is why you were here traversing The Big Apple's sewers. Thanking whatever gods were present for the low water pressure in the channel that ran beneath the soles of your sneakers.

You hated being feeling weak like this but, instinctively your legs drove you to the Mad Dog's Lair. Not bothering to properly shove all your crap into your school bag when you fled the classroom. Doubting that your shit will still be there tomorrow knowing today's luck. But you didn't care. Couldn't be bothered to deal with any more of the relentless bullying nor your professors' chosen path of nativity to the problem. You needed a break.

Entering the base every inhabiting soul was asleep. Evident by the various snores that you passed as you b-lined to Mikey's chambers.

Surprising the mystic mutant with your unannounced visit as he awoke to your shadowy plump figure climbing into his hammock. To the twenty-five year old's shame due to the fact that he had initially missed the salty streaks that drenched your supple (skin tone) cheeks. Immediately noticing your state once you were laying in his bed. The suspended mat's natural physics pressed you into his colorfully decorated plastron.

" ......Hun? Aww sweet babie what's got my muse spillin' tears for? " Mikey cooed muscular moss green appendages like snakes slithered around your waist. Entrapping you in his tired but, strong embrace. Pressing your soft figure into his firm one. Embarrassment heated your tear drenched cheeks as you returned the squeeze. Shaking your head 'no' as you just laid it against his shoulder.

He understood you just needed a moment.

For a minute outside the occasional sob or gasp for air, no words were spoken between the two. The calmness of the dimly orange lite room and your boyfriend's secure embrace provided the elements to allow you to relax. Tip-toeing on the line of slumber, had it not been for Mikey's quiet humming that at some point filled in the background noise to kept you grounded.

Once he had you calmed down, Michaelangelo tried to approach the subject again. He didn't want to reignite your pain but, the thought of someone/something making you cry like this was unforgivable. Whoever did this was gonna pay dearly for the precious tears that beaded your pained (e/c) gaze.

The last two weeks he suspected something was up. You had been absent from your guys' weekly hangout sessions. Despite the obviously differing schedules you and Mikey typically tried to meet at least four times a week. Even if sometimes the encounter was brief. However lately you haven't been attending. Stating over texts how you needed space to work some things out. That had the orange clad Hamato pulling at his imaginary strands with worry. Head lost in a tizzy as he had pooled over what could've driven you away. At first he feared it was him. Something must've come to light.

Did you find his little makeshift shrine for you?

Perhaps you came across his favorite box of tokens he scrounged up from around your apartment?

Or did you finally capture footage of his unannounced nightly visits?

Maybe one of his brothers found or saw something and told you something they shouldn't have?

The never ending list had the moss green box turtle biting his nails. Waiting at the edge of his seat for anticipated ball to drop.

Although he didn't want to thank Gram Gram for his luck when you came sniffling into his quarters. It hurt the mutant when you cried. He wasn't gonna lie the breath of relief upon your arrival. His muse wasn't trying to leave him. For a moment there the mystic mutant had been worried he was going to have to help you remember how much you needed your devoted follower.

"...(Y/n)?....Sweetie, what's wrong?" Mikey began sitting up a little tugging you along with him as he maneuvered the two of you in a more comfortable position. With your face resting against his shoulder, legs thrown over his lap so you were sitting in it in a lounging manner. The moss green box turtle's hold not once loosening from around your full figure. "....You knooow...my ears are always open to listen." The orange coded ninja turtle hummed. Unmasked the warm grey eyes of Michaelangelo's lovingly bore into your soul. Traveling through glossy (e/c) gateways as they searched within you for answers that you wouldn't speak.

Your bottom lip trembled as a new spout of tears ran down your flushed (skin tone) cheeks at his words. Easily hiding your face in the crook of the mutant's jugular. Taking a moment before answering. " I'm sorry for being a bother... I just had a bad day. " You answered quietly. Not necessarily eager to delve into the issue.

Aww his poor babie. However it wasn't the answer he was looking for. It looks like he's gonna have to go through them again. At least this time he was just looking not altering any of your memories. He needed to know what was wrong. He needed his divinity happy and if she wasn't happy— well Mikey wasn't happy.

Sporting his signature gapped tooth grin Mikey began the process.

First it began with focusing his energy. Preparing to start the spell.. It worked perfectly last time. It should be just as successful again. "Shhhh... It's okay babie..." The mutated Hamato hushed.

"..It's all good... I understand... you just need a little guidance...".

With your face hidden you neglected to notice his illuminated three digit grasp leaving your waist. "...let Dr. Delicate Touch help you~" the box turtle concluded as he pressed his glowing three digit right hand into the left side of your forehead. In an instant a bright shine of light blotched out your vision. Right before everything went black. Knocking you out before you could asset the situation.

To any onlooker what he was doing was wrong. An invasion of your privacy which he shouldn't be prying into. However the box turtle preferred to look at it from a more positive perspective.

He was helping you!

The mystic turtle knew you had a hard time expressing your feelings.

Although you didn't say it Michelangelo knew you had a hard time expressing feelings. A bad habit leftover from surviving your formative years. It's okay though. He'll help you.

To any onlooker would say what the youngest Hamato . What he was doing was wrong, inhumane but, Mikey preferred to look at it from a different less negative perspective. He was helping!

You just needed a little fixing. Then you'll be just like new again.

As he sorted through your most recent short term memories the orange color coded ninja turtle kept in mind he couldn't dabble with them too long. He was on a clock dictated by the amount of stamina he's able to input into a single spell. As of right now? Not too much. Especially if he wants to make quick work of whatever issue stood in between him and (y/n) time. The offense will not be tolerated by whomever the perpetrator.

Shifting through the chains that connected the linear timeline in your mind Michaelangelo found the issue. A group of fraternity brats who didn't have any manners. Bastards thought they had the right to defame his muse? His very own David?(That's a reference to one of the renaissance artist's works).

They had to be dealt with.

Like a candle in the wind the group was snuffed out in a single night.

Upon the arrival of the new day you awoke to find yourself back at home in your dingy apartment with no exact clue of how you got back there.

In the faded ripples of your mind you tried to fill in the blanks of the how's and when's. When did you leave the lair? How did you make it back to your apartment? Especially when the last thing you recalled was sniffling in your boyfriend's arms. You must've fallen asleep and gotten up at some point and just don't remember.

Probably was just too tired to re-call anything.

Getting up from the warm sanctuary of your bed sheets you ambled around the apartment to begin your morning routine. Throwing together a bowl of cereal and a coke before scuttling into the living room. Placing your meager feast down onto the coffee table momentarily as you shuffled through your pockets to find your phone.

A few months ago you lost the remote to your tv and unfortunately as a broke ass college student making minimum wage you didn't have the funds to purchase a new TV remote. Instead like every other millennial you download the app. Cheaper than trying to get a new remote. Quicker too.

Tapping awake your screen delivered a mountain of notifications.

Inside the group chat that you were a part of for your physics class was blowing up. Investigating further just left you in shock. Swiping through the populating messages, you discovered the bullies who had been preying on you and your classmates were missing. Somehow all five of them were gone within a night without a single trace.

With the disappearance not being a full twenty-four hours yet the police wasn't taking the matter seriously. Claiming probably just some fraternity shit. Meanwhile the university's faculty wasted no time on morning the frats possie's passing. Sending their cookie-cutter condolences and offering their typical therapy sessions for anyone close to the victims.

What a waste. Although they were assholes they were young assholes who hadn't yet got the chance to live their lives. Make mistakes and learn from them. How unfortunate.

Backing out of the chat your phone buzzed with a new message from Mikey. The afro mentioned adult box turtle was inquiring about how you were doing today and if you wanted to hangout later? Your mutated boyfriend even going as far as decorating the message in emoji hearts and puppy dog stickers.

As of late you haven't been up for hanging out with the twenty-five year old orange clad Hamato. Mucky feelings and overwhelming thoughts clouded your head. Upon seeing the previously mentioned messages about the vultures in your life being gone you felt oddly relieved about their disappearance. Although revolted with your passive reaction you somehow is still able to keep it down. Every time you thought of Michaelangelo the negative feelings and bad memories would keep fading farther and father away.

It was like all it took was a night's rest (and some brain spring cleaning) and everything was back to normal. With a small smile you replied with "I'm doin' good" and "yes" on his invitation.

Next thing you knew it you were spiraling down a rabbit hole of back to back texting like it was the beginning of your guys relationship.

Back then when your best friend had ghosted you. Mikey had been there for you like this then too. Always so supportive. He really was such a good person.

Aren't you lucky that you have such a good boyfriend like Mikey?

[ardent-fox]

✨ Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Got tagged by my beloveds, @deedala and @metalheadmickey to complete these two tag games, thank you and hair ruffles to both of you 🥰💙

Name: Lyds

Where in the world are you? Somewhere in Europe

Do you have a favorite towel? I have two sets of the same ones in different colors, I prefer the teal ones

Can you skip rocks? Not that I know

Tell me about a weird slang term from your area: We have very creative curse words in my native language and use "dick" instead of fuck for most things, like "what the dick is going on", "that's dicked up" and so on. We also send people into genitals as curse phrases, my favorite being "go into your mother's cunt" or even better, "go into three mothers' cunts", and all of this is a socially acceptable way of speaking from puberty onward

Favorite toast topping: I'm a savory type of gal and usually butter it and make it into a ham and cheese sandwich, or put pâté on it and some fancy cheese

Thoughts on bread pudding: I don't believe I've ever tried it, but I'm down for pretty much anything when it comes to food

City or country living? Somewhere in the middle, I live in a town with a 15 min walk to the center and am happy with that

How do you cheer yourself up after a bad day? Put on a comfort show or funny clips on youtube

Are you a pessimist or an optimist? I'm one of those annoying bitches that considers herself a realist. It's hard to tell due to my tendency to catastrophize things because of anxiety, though I generally know in my bones that things will work out

Can I tag you in random stuff? Anyone can tag me in anything that makes them think of me, I know my activity fluctuates but I love getting tagged by all of you 💖

----

🔤 Name: Lyds

🎶 Last song you listened to: My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

🎵 Artist on Spotify giving you the feels right now: Still in my Hozier feels

👯‍♂️ Fave Blorbo Moment: "I definitely love one", euphoria galore 💙

🍟 Your guilty pleasure snack: Potato chips, I'm a whore for a pack of Lays

🌮 What food are you craving today: More of my mom's chocolate raspberry pie

📖 Last fanfic tab you opened: The Menagerie by @crossmydna, haven't dug into the last chapter yet but will never shut up about how much I adore and recommend this masterpiece of a fic. I haven't read any Kinktober things yet, but plan to correct that soon

🖌️ Favorite fic project you've created: My one and only competed fic so far, Everything

👩🏼‍🎤 Next tattoo you want (or would consider if you're not a tattoo person): I've never been brave enough to get a permanent tattoo, but I've been feeling zodiac constellations with your zodiac flower instead of stars lately, which would be a formation of (blue) lilies in my case. Definitely in the flowers, pixie/fairy and celestial art camp

🧐🆓 What's living in your head rent free this week: Same as the last four weeks, Our Flag Means Death, with a dash of Con O'Neill side obsession. My love of season 2 continues to consume every part of my brain and I fight the urge to rewatch it all (yet again) on a daily basis, it was glorious and gave me everything 💖

Tagging @look-i-love-u, @vintagelacerosette, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @gallawitchxx, @rereadanon, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @deathclassic, @thisdivorce, @crossmydna, @heymrspatel, @stocious, @lupeloto, @scurvgirl, @tanktopgallavich, @howlinchickhowl, @squidyyy23 in case you haven't done and would like to do either or both of these, as well as anyone who sees this and would like to play! ✨

[witchcraftingboop]

Hi Boop,

Thanks for answering my ask.

I didn't want you to relive your bad memories, because I had experienced something similar as a child and I am just glad we are out of that place.

You're right, I meant the money spell. I am stuck at a dead end job with no prospects and it's driving me crazy. I used to invoke Jove almost on a daily basis, give offerings to Saturn, maintain a cash box on the altar, and use the pentacles. It all worked out fine for a while, but as soon as I started struggling to do that regularly, things started going downhill.

I am tired of being constantly worried about money (having enough to live comfortably instead of paycheck to paycheck), and badly need some stability.

Thanks to Jove I have my job, but everyone i knew has been laid off, and even walking in to work rn makes me hyperventilate and nauseous despite taking my anxiety meds.

Magic is my last hope at this point. Thanks for sharing your story btw. It's nice to know that it is working out for someone 💙🍁

Hey, anon! No worries; not all memories require reliving them in order to recall the facts, so I can assure you it's fine.

I'm sorry to hear about your stressful situation though. I can relate to the anxiety that comes from going to work in a place where people keep getting laid off, so I sincerely hope you're able to get away from that sooner rather than later.

Daily money workings are good, but if you have things like ADHD, chronic depression, etc., then I would instead suggest being a bit more flexible in your workings. Give yourself room to perform your workings in intervals that align better with your naturally fluctuating energy levels and you'll be setting yourself up for success. Also, it's a good idea to not hold onto any negative "oh I ruined all my work because I missed such and such hour or this or that day of offerings." You'll go a lot farther if you let go of the concept of failure. It's your spell, you decide whether it's a solid success story or a moment of learning. But then again, those are just my thoughts on the matter; they don't exactly line up with everyone's perspective.

Good luck, anon!

[phoenix-knight]

TW: SELF-HATE

I have so much self-hate on a daily basis. it makes me so disgusted with myself. I hate myself for hating myself. every time I make the slightest mistake that anyone as a human being does, I trample on myself as if I was supposed to be some god who should have lived up to some higher standards.

"you dumb bitch, you cannot even study for a couple of hours the day before the exam. how incompetent can you be? could you not even read through the basic stuff so that you don't stare at the answer sheet blankly tomorrow like a mannequin? i hate you. i hate the way you look, your body keeps changing, some of the pants don't fit as well, you have probably gained weight. how could you not maintain urself now that ur finally doing better than you ever were since you were diagnosed. you rarely bathe, u don't do better skincare, you don't study, you don't get enough exercise, you have not washed ur hair in a week. you are a fucking nervous wreck who procrastinates till 9 PM and studies half-assedly the next day on the subway train to college. you can't even fucking press the pause button when the deadline is literally the next day for an important exam. dumbass motherfucker, ur just never enough"

there, i spewed all the venom out. i spat it out like a mouth filled with blood and beat up face. this is what goes on in my brain again and again, poisoning my thoughts.

i am so tired all the damn time. but I cannot seem to give myself a fucking break, because as seen from the poisonous monologue above, shaming myself for not being enough is my M.O.

you know what else is funny? those words are something my parents would say, something my mom still says sometimes. its mom's words in my voice when i fucking hate how unproductive I am.

no wonder i am not comfortable in my skin, and muscles are always tense as if I am about lose my shit and breakdown. i am always judging myself, seeing my actions and weighing them in comparison to my unbelievably unrealistic crazy ass standards for myself. the conventional epitome of all things perfection is as told by society.

living in the moment? i suck at it. see, one more thing I half-ass.

BUT BITCH, LISTEN TO ME:

burnout is real and ur spiralling, stop blaming urself

fat shaming urself again? nah uh. please keep the internalized misogyny aside, and look at urself. u have been running full throttle to keep up with life. and oh my god, fucking law school. the fluctuating periods of extreme exertion, exhaustion and stagnation not to mention the sleep deprivation is probably giving ur body whiplash. weight gain is natural, and no you don't look any different, you don't need to examine urself in the mirror.

bloating is a thing, beach bikini bodies are a myth, so value ur gut and treasure that satisfied burp after eating a good meal. foodgasms >>> washboard abs

acne are not single handedly caused by ur lack of skincare, remember the pollution? the stress hormones? ur diet? ur psych meds? calm the fuck down, u did not bring this upon urself.

slut shaming? no, sloth shaming! yes, I made this up rn.

sloth shaming: noun, verb, the practice of shaming a person for being unproductive by unrealistic standards with absolutely no context. god, I do this a lot. why do you expect urself to be working 24/7? when its not even humanly possible? ur not a fucking robot. hell, even robots can malfunction when they're overworked.

what is being "unproductive" anyway? resting, chilling, doing nothing, doing all the fun things u love? scrolling Instagram, shitposting on tumblr, pinning all ur fav kpop fanart? aren't all these things that you fucking love doing? then why blame urself for being "unproductive" when the term itself has such a negative connotation? ur not unproductive, ur slothing. enjoy the me time, chew on leaves and take a nap.

bathing is overrated. bath when you have the energy to, otherwise stick to washing ur face, hands and privates. fuck it, do the bare minimum. pamper urself on a washday instead.

of course ur a nervous procrastinating wreck for the exam season, how could you not be when ur a gen z gifted burnt out kid with anxiety, depression and bpd whose whole sense of self worth is hinged on academic validation? but its fine to just pass ur exams, not pass with flying colors.

you don't have to ace everything, you don't have to be the best, smartest person in the room. you don't have to want to be the ace at everything too. ur here to feel ur own presence and be true to it. ur here to do what you want by putting in the amount of effort you currently have the capacity for. do what you can, start small, you're OK. :)

[tobydandelion]

A Very Autistic Adult's Very Weird Journey to Independence

TW: Emotional abuse and eating disorders.

I've decided that I'm finally at a point where I've thoroughly processed the emotions of my past enough to start telling my very strange story. I'm at the most stable point I've ever been in my life, even though I know I've still got a lot of bumps in the road ahead. I finally have the tools to face the world, and I feel like screaming my experience into the void is a comfy way to start practicing truly reconnecting with humanity.

For the past 9 years, I had been trapped in a very toxic and all-consuming relationship. When I met her, I had just arrived in Des Moines, after being disowned by my family. I was 20, homeless, not yet diagnosed with autism due to my family's distrust of psychology, and at the very beginning of understanding my gender identity. It was actually a trangender support group that brought us together; she had also just begun hormones and using her current pronouns, and had a rough relationship with her parents, and we connected over our similar experiences and trauma. We also connected over our geeky interests and how neither of us could really get along with the others from the support group. We felt like two outcasts that, despite everything, managed to find each other. And for a long time it felt like that's all we'd ever need.

I had managed to have a couple jobs in the first half of our relationship, but both ended fairly quickly after multiple episodes of what I thought at the time were panic attacks, but now in hindsight have come to understand were actually autistic meltdowns from overstimulation and 'social battery' depletion. It was after quitting my second job that I was finally able to get in front of a psychologist who put everything together and came up with the diagnosis of 'Autism Spectrum Disorder'. (And quite far on the spectrum at that.) My whole life I had been having 'panic attacks', when trying to make phone calls, trying to do paperwork, talking to people in groups, and in stores or other bright places, and never understood why no amount of exposure to these things ever made them any easier. I had felt like it was my fault, like I wasn't trying hard enough to 'get better', but I was finally on the road to separating anxiety and overstimulation, and understanding that preventing one could reduce the other. I was finally able to start healing and understanding myself, and how I could finally start to pursue happiness.

Armed with my fresh diagnosis and the very beginnings of understanding my own sensory needs, I started volunteering at the local animal shelter. It was so bright and loud and full of people and other overwhelming stimuli that I would have meltdowns almost every time, but I started to at least be able to internalize it into 'shutdowns' until I got home. It was around this time that She started to illegally obtain cannabis for me, so that I could use it on a daily basis to better manage my stimulation levels and anxiety, and prevent shutdowns and meltdowns. I had previously used cannabis legally in California where I grew up, (for 'anxiety'; now I understand in hindsight it was actually preventing the overstimulation that causes meltdowns), but my ineptitude at social situations and inability to understand anything other than the most basic math prevented me from obtaining it illegally by myself. So with Her help, I got an actual job at the animal shelter, and carried on with fluctuating functionality as She continued to provide the medication that allowed me to have a semi-normal life.

When medical cannabis finally became available in our state, I was so excited to finally stop being afraid of getting caught with something illegal, and asked her to help get me into the program. I'm very disabled by phone static (phone calls basically cause instant meltdowns due to all the different noises that are happening at once), and overwhelmed and confused easily by paperwork, so I thought she would help with this just like she had with all my medical things in the past. But with this, she wouldn't help. I didn't understand at first, I thought she would be just as excited as me to stop living in fear about getting caught, and it would save us so much money to not pay street prices or drive out of state for it. But she didn't want that.

I realized it was the control. I had been too close to the situation to see, but with this realization I noticed so much else that she had been doing to try to keep me as exactly as disabled as she wanted. She had always refused accommodation like keeping the lights dim, had always refused to stop talking when I begged her to leave me alone due to depleted social battery, and would send long rambling texts that were intentionally confusing when she knew I was emotionally overwhelmed. And she would scream at me and shake me for trying to ignore her while I was trying to avoid meltdowns. I thought she was just ill, and I had tried to be patient and let her heal on her own terms, but her decision to keep my medication under her control solidified my understanding of what she had been doing to me for years.

I finally decided I needed to get away. I asked her to leave a few times over the course of a six month period, but she had always convinced me that I still needed her. She had been right. I was trapped and she knew it. I couldn't get to work without her, couldn't work without the medication she provided, and couldn't even get help with these things because I couldn't make phone calls or understand social services websites, or reach out to anyone I already knew due to my total social isolation.

But when I stopped hating myself and stopped masking my autistic traits through the process of deciding to leave her, I finally noticed I'm kind of physically attractive to certain groups of people. (Including myself! I'm autosexual, look it up!)

I had started letting myself stim at work, mostly by dancing and moving to music as I worked. I started to get physically fit from doing this, and had a lot of fun discovering how many people enjoyed my appearance. Turns out I had 'good bone structure', and as a passing trans man I was a fetishized object to quite a few people.

She and I had always been polyamourous, and had recently made the decision to find other side partners using Grindr. I began using it for practice communicating online, and began researching the allosexual mind, and started to understand how I was perceived by others who found me attractive. This was very fun and exciting, but also solidified my understanding of the resource that is my appearance and fetishized qualities. I started to understand that I could use these resources to escape her, so I stopped consuming cannabis in preparation for getting it legally with the help of a new theoretical significant other. Though I resolved to never do anything I didn't want to do, and never present anything other than my whole, genuine self. Not only because I'm a terrible liar, but also because I knew that was the only way to retain my newfound self-worth and inner peace.

I discovered through trial and error that I could still avoid meltdowns and shutdowns without cannabis, but only if I stopped masking completely, and took extreme measures to regulate my sensory intake. I began stimming as much as my body told me to, wearing earplugs 24/7, wearing sunglasses indoors in all but the dimmest light, started excercising regularly, limited all screentime to dark mode only, stopped watching videos, and started listening to music nonstop. I discovered that with all this, I felt better than I ever had in my life, even with cannabis. I had always felt a constant anxiety and general unease, but it was gone. For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually could be a real person. An actual participant in the world. It was like waking up, and I started to actually look forward to the future. I finally felt human, like I could finally make a place in the world for myself.

But taking care of my sensory needs, according to Her, was mania. She stopped buying me the foods I could eat with my orthorexia, and tried to convince me to go to a hospital. I tried to explain that since cannabis was still in my system, going in for a psyche evaluation could ruin my chances for medical cannabis in the future. But now I understand that was her plan. She saw my growing independence and was terrified of losing her stranglehold on my life.

I finally decided it was an emergency to get her out of my life and start getting actual help. I was starving from her refusal to buy food I could eat, and in constant sensory distress from her screaming and turning lights up on me.

So it was finally time for action. I told the animal shelter about my situation and that I probably couldn't return, locked Her out of the apartment, used an emergency fund I had stashed away to doordash a month's supply of food and toiletries, and started telling my situation to the few sweet folks on Grindr with whom I had made what I thought were genuine connections, in hopes of getting help with phone calls and paperwork. Of course, I decided I couldn't ask directly for this, but would let what I needed help with come out in conversation naturally, to avoid getting taken advantage of. I knew that the only way to do this safely was for the person to genuinely care for me as a whole human, and my ineptitude at social interaction prevented me from reading people's true intentions. So I began telling my story and explaining my disability to anyone who asked of these things.

After opening up about her abuse, one of them suddenly proposed, saying he would take care of me. In hindsight I understand that this was predatory, taking advantage of my fragile emotional state, but as I had never understood dating and social situations like this in the first place, I accepted, knowing this would mean help with the things I needed help with. He lived hours away, and I had only had two dates with him before this. But I genuinely enjoyed his company and thought he was a very courteous, caring, patient person based on these interactions. And after the years of abuse and control, I still thought I needed another person to run my life for me.

Luckily, I met someone else who shook me out of this mindset in time. He wouldn't help with phone calls or paperwork either, but he helped me understand that I could get that help without completely handing my agency over to another person, and that the proposal was a predatory move. He actually contacted my 'fiancé', and got him to admit his intention was never even to marry me anyway. So I was able to avoid that terrible trajectory, and stayed on track to gaining full independence. (If you ever happen to read this, thanks buddy. I'll never forget what you did for me and how you've helped me grow and learn. <3 )

So I continued making connections, and having lots of fun along the way. I was able to retain my optimism and mental health, (despite the ticking clock of eviction from my apartment due to my sudden lack of income), through the dialectical behavioral therapy tools I had developed from the therapists I had watched on YouTube before deciding to leave Her. As well as surrounding myself with hopeful, comforting, and motivating music. And I continued to take extreme measures to care for my sensory needs, and still only presented my full and genuine self, and still never did anything with anyone that I didn't want to do.

Then it finally happened. Someone who I had been talking to finally understood how disabled I was and what I needed, and I trusted him enough that I provided him with all my legal information and personal documentation, and he helped me to get a social worker.

It was just in time, as the eviction was closing in. This wonderful friend helped me to go to court and stop the eviction, but as the landlord wouldn't work with the social worker's agency to take payment, I still needed to find a new place to live. My social worker discovered that I needed to get on disability income to assist with getting me permanent housing, so I continued to make connections and tell my story to those who wanted to hear it. Luckily I found a friend in time who would let me stay with him for a little while. He had actually asked his landlord if I could stay, so once again I have a time limit, (specifically until mid September) and will need to find someone else to live with while waiting on getting approved for disability. My social worker discovered that my records from my original diagnosing psychologist are unobtainable, as the doctor has retired. So now I'm going to have to wait for rediagnosis for both medical cannabis and the social security income that will allow me to live independently.

But if I can find someone else to live with before then, I will be alright. And I know I can. I've learned a lot recently, and become a lot better at asking for help. I'll keep making connections and reaching out, on various platforms now, until I find someone who I can live with until disability approval, and as always, I'll make sure to have fun along the way, and always be myself.

And eventually, very soon now, I know I can become truly independent. It's just a matter of time before I have full autonomy over my life. I've gained a lot of patience and strength through this journey, and learned how to effectively stand up for myself and communicate my needs. And I'll keep learning every day. And I'll keep adding new music to my therapy playlist! I'll remember to Try Everything that might help me learn and grow, and I'll remember to love myself first, and never let anyone or anything stop me from always being myself.

There's my music therapy playlist, in case any other very autistic trauma survivors who happen to read this post might enjoy it. :3

And if anyone who reads this feels bad for me: Ew, stop it. I'm happy and hopeful, and living proof that loving yourself is always enough. <3

[goldenfharry]

So, from my understanding, you are saying that whoever believes that this is a real relationship is actually defending a very shitty boyfriend when they shouldn’t

I’ve never seen someone put it so perfectly. If you believe that this relationship is real then Harry is a really shitty boyfriend and everyone’s applauding that. This woman gets death threats to her and her kids, people are making fun of her children, people are tearing her looks down. You can see the amount of weight that she has lost a game during this PR stuff. Her weight has fluctuated a lot, she has gotten so much work done to fit the narrative of what his girlfriend look like an his girlfriendbecause his fans of her insecure. There’s nothing about this “relationship” that his goals or cute. He doesn’t defend her ever. She was accused of having an affair and there is a lot of evidence that supports that and instead of coming out and saying that it wasn’t true he put out a statement through to a source calling himself blameless. When he could’ve defended their relationship. when the GQ article came out with Jason on the cover and it was confirmed they broke up in November he did nothing to defend her, when she was served he did nothing to defend her. She is made fun of and bullied in the internet everyday and had to turn off her Instagram comments and he has done nothing to defend her. People have said she was involved with the shit that Harvey Weinstein Did and have basically Assassinated her character and he has done nothing to defend her. A lot of the shit that the fans are uncovering and talking about are defamatory things , things that could ruin her reputation and career and he has done nothing to defend her. She is constantly travelling around the world to take your time away from her kids to be with him whenever it fits his schedule and his needs and doesn’t do use the same for her whatsoever.So if you think that this relationship is real then Harry doesn’t give a fuck about her and is it a very good boyfriend and you guys are defending and shipping A fucked up relationship. If I was getting attacked by my boyfriends fans on a daily basis, then lying about me, then assassinate my character and try to ruin my career and my boyfriend didn’t stick up for me I would fucking dump him Because all the shit that’s happening to me is because of him

He doesn’t defend her because he doesn’t feel the need to. It shows that they don’t have enough proximity for him to just simply be vocal about it. Despite that, everything that is happening to her in terms of hate it’s not his fault directly. Each individual that sends hate to her is deliberately choosing to. We are all owners of our own actions. When I write about her on my blog, it’s not Harry’s fault, it’s mine. I might have a blog because of him, but I am responsible for all that I write and my actions. It’s not Harry that makes his fans hate on her. I struggle to believe that if he had a choice, he would choose for her to be this hated. But the hate, even thought I don’t agree with a lot of shit, the hate against her kids for example also comes from a place where she doesn’t protect them enough. In fact, she uses them and puts them right in the middle of the spotlight when she knows what will happen. It just shows who she is. A lot of things that you point on this ask were situations created by her, that lead to reactions. Because trust me, she wants the hate as well. It makes her talked, it makes her seen. Closing comments? Typical move for eventually pay off as the poor victim. Everything that she does has a purpose and is extremely calculated.

[xtrablak674]

If I Had One Regret

It would probably be wishing I had worked more. Let's not get it twisted, I am not one of those people who just loves working for workings sake. I thoroughly enjoy my in-between times, my free-time, my me-time. But there has been one through-line in my later adult life. It has become harder for me to find employment.

Let's be clear, my capabilities, aptitude and general readiness have never diminished. I am highly skilled, technologically proficient, an effective communicator and very organized, things that throughout my career employers have loved and benefited from greatly. I have also become more myself as I have matured, not that I was ever anyone's cog, but the further I have come, the more I have deepened who I am, and no one can truly ever be the boss of me, because I know what I am here to do.

And what is the problem with me? Not a damned thing, in my opinion. But the intersectionalities of my identities have only blossomed, refined and matured. I have passed from gay, to same-gender-loving to queer. I have been a boy, a man and now a person. I have been a sissy, a tranny and now non-binary. I have been a tar-baby, a spook and now beautiful. I have been sexually abused, abuser and now celibate. I have had extensive family, and lost and lost some more and now have an intimate chosen-family.

Through all of these trials and transitions I have done the best to never let my light be dimmed, I have adjusted certain aspects of my behavior for my safety, but I have never shied away from always living my truth. Part of this truth is I can wear whatever I want to and execute all the parameters of my job description. I can move through spaces without ever apologizing for my Blackness. I will be friendly, but not make myself more palatable for whyte folks. I can carry and lead a meeting, never having to explain who I go to bed with or as.

It would be false of me to not acknowledge that I have had amazing opportunities through out my life and also had financial support that is unheard of in many families, that has given me more choice and options about the kind of work that I choose to do and the kind of compensation I will accept. Due to my bearings, cultural background and excellent diction I have always assumed to be college-educated something I have never dissuaded anyone from believing nor have I ever exhibited a less than well-polished veneer.

I want to work not just because I can, but because I feel I have something to offer. I miss my mind being challenged daily and having responsibilities that varied on a everyday basis. I miss the teamwork of process mapping and smoothing out the terrain to assist my organization in working smarter and smoother not harder. I miss the satisfaction of having accomplished something that no one else thought could be done and delivering brilliantly. And it would be a whole-ass lie to not admit I miss the money. The comforts of my low six-figure salaries supported me in the way I had grown accustomed to, and it would be pure folly to say I wouldn't want to return to that level of stability.

Most importantly I want to work because this society says folks who were raised like me, have a complexion like mine, whose hair falls and grows the way mine does, whose gender fluctuates based on the day the temperature and what I chose to wear, whose creativity, gender-expression and Black pride can't be inhibited by a arbitrary dress-codes, whose defiance to bureaucratical logistical nonsense will not be assuaged.

I am I and I will do my work not by some European ethic or influence, not by some heterosexist values or persistence, not by some binary of gender and my role here-within, nor by assuaging your white guilt and privilege and molding myself to make you more comfortable with my Blackness. None of these things effect the work that I can output nor should they be necessary to me contributing brilliantly to society like anyone else can.

[Photos by Brown Estate]

[beantothemax]

“If I died when my mother did, would anything have changed?”

“Probably not. Your brother is another candidate. You’re just more convenient.”

“…Convenient. Is that what people think of me? Just a convenient person to be around? To use?”

“Oh definitely. I mean look at yourself. You certainly look the part.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hikari, you’re a people pleaser for as long as I knew you. Your father was distant from you, Mugen hates you, and your mother is gone. I would include friends but that seems to be fluctuating on a daily basis. You want people to see you and appreciate you. You don’t help people for the sake of helping them, you help them so you can feel better about yourself and so that they can look at you. Anything for the people is just a lie you made up so that you can justify all of this.”

“What about now? I lied low just like you told me to, and here I am tangled up with all of this, helping people without even trying. What should I call that?”

“Circumstance. You were there at the time so they asked for your help and since you have a bleeding heart, you help them. It escalates and now you’re here.”

“…Maybe I am doing this all for a selfish need to be seen. But at least I’m doing something. If I can help people even for a little bit then the world gets a bit better.”

“Hah. It’s a wonder your the Harbinger of the End. With all the optimism you have for the world, no one would really notice that you could end it in an instant.”

“Stop that.”

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“…I don’t want the world to end Kazan. It’s bad right now but we don’t know if it can get better or worse. And I like to think it can get better. Most people are just that. People. Everyone is trying to get by and I like to think that it’s the small kindness that they do that helps it get better.”

“Doesn’t do much against everything else though.”

“That’s a fault of the system, not of themselves. People are flawed. They’ll always be flawed. We just hope they make the right choices and are kind. We try to be kind to each other and try our best. Because what else are we supposed to do?”

“…Wow. I try to get you to kill me so that the world would end and you still believe things can get better?”

“What else am I supposed to do? I can’t die because, as you said, my brother is always an option. I can’t let the world end because my friends are all in it. And I can’t just hide after my brother is taken care of because what kind of existence is that?”

“All good points. You truly are in a harrowing position.”

“You know, when I decided to talk to you, I thought that you would try to turn me to nihilism. Surprised you haven’t done that yet.”

“No use in preaching to an audience that doesn’t listen. You clearly have your own path you want to follow, so. That leads to the big question. What are you going to do about this?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t know how to stop you and the people you work for but I won’t stop fighting for the Dawn. Does that answer satisfy you?”

“I suppose. Honestly I am just waiting for what will happen. If the world ends then I’m proven right. If it doesn’t then I’m proven wrong and, well. I’ll admit, that option sounds much more interesting than the first.”

KIWI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KIWI IM SHAKING YOU FRANTICALLY HOW DO YOU DO THIS EVERY TIME

HIKARI. HIKARI JUST TALKING ABIUT HOW YEAH THE WORLD’S NOT THE BEST VUT WE DONT KNOW IF ITLL GET BETTER OR WORSE UNTIL WE SEE IT……… GAAAAAAAAAAH I KNOW ITS THE SAME MESSAGE BUT IN THIS NEW CONTEXT ITS JUST… EXPERIENCING TOO MANY EMOTIONS

@throne-anguis

[fsos3105]

Technology Log Analysis

In my FSOS 3105 class, we were asked to record our use of technology for a full day. Following the completion of this log, I analyzed what kind of technology I was using, the duration, pros/cons, and how I felt about it. Here are my findings :)

Technology Log Analysis 

The night before I began my technology use log, I decided I wanted to estimate what it would look like based on my perception of how much technology I use on a daily basis. I took into consideration that it would be a Saturday and I would not be on my laptop or iPad as much as I would on a day I had school or work and that I would likely be on my phone more because I would have more free time. I also thought that most of my time actively using my phone (screen on and interacting with it as opposed to having music on in the background) would be on social media. Additionally, I knew I was going to a football game and that being there would probably cut down on my screen time. In the end, I estimated that I would spend about 5 hours using technology. 

As I was recording my technology usage throughout the day, I felt a little alarmed by how frequently my phone was in use. I tried not to alter the amount of time I was spending on it to keep my data as accurate as possible, but I did notice myself resisting the urge to check my phone more often than I would if I were not recording how much I was using it. I also noticed that a large portion of my technology use seemed to be for music. I found this to be a little relieving because I feel like my technology use is most detrimental when I am glued to a screen and mindlessly scrolling on social media or watching Netflix. 

In addition to what I was using and the duration of it, I also tried to pay attention to how I felt when I was using technology. I found that every time I opened my phone, one of the first things I would do was look to see if the guy I have been dating had texted me. My mood definitely fluctuated depending on whether or not he had texted me back. The intermittent reinforcement made me want to check my phone constantly and I had to stop myself from keeping it in my hand all of the time. Similar to findings from Duran et al. (2011), I found that I was often frustrated by the lack of connection due to his inconsistent communication via text message. 

When I was on social media, I enjoyed connecting with my friends and seeing what people were up to. I saw that one of my high school classmates got engaged and then I spent a while texting my friends about it. We bonded over feeling weird that people our age, 19 and 20, were getting married and having children. Over text, I bonded with my friends and solidified plans with my parents for them to pick me up at the airport for Thanksgiving break. I felt relieved afterwards that we were able to figure everything out. 

After totaling up the amount of time I had spent using technology, I was very surprised to see that I had racked up eight hours of use over the course of my day. A third of my 24 hour long day was directly impacted by some form of screen time. When I looked closer at what I was spending my time on, I noticed that a lot of that time was spent on Spotify and my phone was not turned on nor was I looking at my phone. After disregarding the time I was not actively looking at a screen, my use came down to about 5.6 hours which was much closer to what I had thought I would end up with. Still, that is almost a fourth of my day interacting with technology and half of the time that I was actually awake. 

Looking at those numbers, I have to ask myself if all of that time interacting with my screens was worth it. The amount of time I spent working on assignments is justified and I still could have spent more time doing that. Texting and planning with my friends and family was useful and necessary for safety and for being able to meet up together. The 35 minutes on social media is, truthfully, much lower than it would have been if I had not been at the football game that afternoon. In a different setting with my friends, such as in my apartment or getting coffee, I would have spent much more time on social media apps such as Twitter and Instagram. The amount of time I spent on Netflix could have been excessive. I like to use it to wind down and get ready to sleep but I think that the amount of blue light I am exposed to is not helping with the quality of my sleep and contributing to a cycle of not sleeping well, being tired and stressed during the day, and then watching T.V. to unwind. 

From observing my own screen time, I can see that listening to music and keeping in contact with my friends and family are the most beneficial forms of my daily technology use outside of school and work. I enjoy these activities, they do not keep me on my phone excessively, and do not disrupt my life. When applying this to families, it makes me think about how they could integrate the use of technology for connection and minimize negative effects such as becoming withdrawn or disconnected from each other. 

Because playing video games as a family has been shown to foster connection in families (Voida & Greenberg, 2012), I believe this could be extended to other types of technology use within a family. Similarly to my experience by myself, sharing and listening to music as a family could be an effective way to use phones or computers to bond with family members without having to be constantly interacting with a screen. That way, people with concerns about the amount of time they are using technology such as parents of young children and anyone who is conscious of their technology use can interact with members who are more inclined to use it.

Overall, I am a little surprised about the amount of time I spend using technology in one day. However, I am not necessarily displeased with how I spent that time. A large chunk of my time was schoolwork, music, or purposeful connection with friends and family. Because most of the things I was doing were beneficial for me academically and socially, I feel like my overall usage was positive.

Sources

Robert L. Duran , Lynne Kelly & Teodora Rotaru (2011) Mobile Phones

in Romantic Relationships and the Dialectic of Autonomy Versus Connection, Communication

Quarterly, 59:1, 19-36, DOI: 10.1080/01463373.2011.541336

Voida, A., & Greenberg, S. (2011). Console gaming across generations: Exploring intergenerational interactions in collocated console gaming. Universal Access in the Information Society, 11(1), 45-56.

[clericfication]

hello! this might be a bit of an overreach, and you can feel free to ignore this ask, but as someone with chronic illness/pain, how do you, for lack of a better word, function? i've never been in the position before where i've had to take things like advil or tylenol daily to not be in pain all the time and i'm absolutely going to speak to my physician about what to do but i thought that maybe as part of the community you could tell me what is common? i don't think it's good to do it long term?

hi - no worries! this turned out longer than i meant it to, so i’m putting the majority of it under a read more (or at least attempting to, i’m on mobile so let’s see if this works LOL)

i’ve had to adjust my definition of “functioning”. everybody’s different and my idea of functioning may not be your’s or the next person’s. so for me, functioning is just doing what i can on a day-to-day basis. planning for what needs to be done and allocating when to do it helps me.

:readmore:

so for a couple of examples - if i need to go to the store, i plan it for the next “high” energy day i have or i plan for it to be the only major thing i do in a day. if i have to lead a meeting, i schedule it in the mid-morning, since that’s when i have both the energy and the clear head most days. you’ll slowly be able to figure out what takes more energy and what’s easier to do as you go. (if you haven’t heard of spoon theory, i’d suggest looking it up! it’s tangential to this conversation)

but there are days where i can get a lot done and there are days like the day i had yesterday, which was a Real Fucking Bad Day™️. i was exhausted to the point of not being able to think straight, every part of my body ached, and the majority of my joints were giving me shooting pains that would happen both when i moved and randomly. my joints normally pop every so often, but it was to the point where one of my coworkers pointed out that my joints snapped and popped every. time. i. moved. i did what absolutely had to be completed and that was it - nothing more.

today’s an easier day and closer to what my normal is - my “normal” tiredness is back and it’s only my problem areas giving me issues, though i’m still struggling hard with energy levels because of how much energy i had to put into just existing yesterday. i’ve been able to complete more than just the bare minimum, but it’s not close to what i can do on my normal days.

on my normal days, where it’s just the tiredness and the pain i typically deal with, i still do the same things with planning and allocating where i put my energy because i keep learning the hard way that if i ignore my body and push myself too hard, everything will get real bad, real fast.

so maybe your functioning works like mine and it fluctuates or maybe you’re in a different situation, but i’d encourage you to define what functioning means to you in the way that best helps you in your situation and in living your day-to-day life (and your mental health, because societal standards certainly don’t help with the emotions surrounding chronic issues). i guess my ultimate advice is: don’t hold yourself to impossible standards and be gentle with yourself.

as for the tylenol/advil part, i’d first like to make a disclaimer: one, i’m not a medical professional. two, like a medical professional, i too can make mistakes XD i also can’t speak for the community at large, but i can at least say what i know for people i know

that being said, it depends on how much you’re taking and how often. most sources say that, as long as you’re taking less than the maximum dosage per every 24 hours, you should be fine. there are health risks associated with long term use, but a good majority of the people who i know who aren’t on a specific pain treatment plan take an otc painkiller on a daily basis (myself included at this point) - just watch how much you’re taking

granted, i don’t know your medical history, so i would definitely recommend following your plan of asking your physician - they’ll be able to give you specifics surrounding your history, situation, and what to do or not do!

i feel like rambled, so hopefully this helps in some capacity! i also feel like i’m missing something i wanted to say, so i’ll come back and add an edit at the end of this if i remember 😅 but my askbox is always open!

[twst-drabbles]

Vil 9

Summary: Every obsession starts with a set of pathetic excuses. Now, what are Vil’s?

(I was gonna try and finish everything today but nope, my neck my hurting. So, rest it is.)

You really must pay more attention to the marks on your face.

Cuts, burns, bruises, you’ve received them all on your face. There are scars there, in fact, all because this college is one filled to the brim with reckless oafs and fools. It doesn’t help that these marks are easy to take care of.

And yet they don’t bother you a single bit. All you care for is that they don’t get infected or open up again.

Of course Vil would find himself staring at your face. Of course, he would feel the itch in his palm to cup your cheek and double check every little nook and crevice. Vil has it trained in him to never overlook any cut or injury, lest they leave a blemish behind.

You can’t blame him for losing his train of thought, of reflexively taking in all of your details anytime you come into his line of sight. That’s simply how he is as a model. But, of course, Vil will never say anything. If the injuries don’t bother you, then Vil has no reason to bring them up.

That’s simply how you are.

I won’t tolerate a single wrinkle.

There has never been anything more irritating to Vil than clothes that have clearly been tossed into a corner with no regard for how they’re folded. It’s a sign of a slovenly fool, and Vil was anything but.

Most days, usually in the mornings while you’re walking to your next class, Vil has to take a moment to smooth down you sleeves, to tug your jacket into place, and even adjust your socks.

It’s only made more apparent to Vil that what you wore was nothing more than a hand-me-down. They simply don’t suit your body structure. Vil can feel the way your shoulders strained the fabric as you tightened them under his palm.

You may think him odd for adjusting your clothes so, but how can you expect to be taken seriously if you don’t take the time to groom your appearance? If he doesn’t smooth down every wrinkle present on your pants and shirt, Vil will lose sleep.

It’s a very annoying itch. Almost impossible to ignore.

I’ll use this photo as a base.

Beauty is not an ever present state, Vil is well aware of that. Of course, that won’t stop him from trying to pursue such a thing, however what he chases is up to him. Naturally, Vil is aware that many others are content to let their beauty fluctuate on a daily basis.

You may not come to him for beauty advice, or for any skin care tips or health habits in general, but Vil has a very keen eye. In the event that you do come to him with the full intention of reaching a new peak in beauty you have never reached before, Vil must have a reference, a base to start from.

The perfect start was when you were leaning against the support beam of the botanical garden. The sunlight was rather harsh that day and Vil had half a mind to tell you to wear sunscreen, or at least take shelter in the shade, however…

The light bounced off the glass, spraying rainbow particles over your wrinkled clothing, iridescent fireflies over the blemishes on your face. A sight that his memory, as sharp it was, would fail to recall. Details would simply be lost in the grand scheme of time.

So Vil had to take a photo. He needed evidence of that moment, of that potential that you could reach. So that this memory will never fade, should you come to him for his teachings that is.

That’s the only reason he has taken this photo. For the sake of giving the best advice he can. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.

[cheesecakesteve]

My Lovely Liar

cw: Alcohol

Chapter 1: I'm Wide Awake

Roman tossed and turned. Frustrated at the fact that he couldn't fall asleep. No matter how he positions himself, how many pillows he uses, how many blankets he needs, he still can't get himself to stay still long enough to drift off. This happens sometimes, he gets bouts of insomnia where his thoughts are too loud, his bed is too lumpy, and his body temperature fluctuates between boiling hot and sweaty or freezing cold and shivering. Eventually the frustration gets to him and he throws his comforter and sheets off his large king sized bed that was commonly too big for his liking. When he was in his bed, laying alone, it was common for him to day dream about someone being there with him. Assisting in taking to part of the bed, and helping Roman out when he was touch starved. Nonetheless that relationship was nonexistent. Leaving a hopeless romantic with no hope in finding love, alone with his thoughts. Roman shook his passing thoughts out of his head and don on his slippers. He slipped a T-shirt and began to head for the kitchen. Roman was surprised to see the down stairs lights still on along with a figure on the couch that he couldn't quite recognize due to the unexpected light slightly blinding his vision. "What are you doing awake?" Roman could've sighed. Of course it was Janus, out of anyone else that could be awake in the mind palace it just had to be Janus. January certainly didn't look like himself, no hat, ruffled messed up hair, black pajama pants on with a tank top, and no gloves. "I could ask you the same thing you slimy snake." Roman grumbled as he continued his descend down the stairs and into the kitchen to get a glass of warm milk. Patton told him once that it would help him fall asleep so he figured he'd try it. Janus sighed at the comment that Roman gave him. Always a slimy snake. Roman hadn't the slightest clue what the comments did to him. Janus wasn't sensitive, but you try having negative things said about you on a daily basis. Shit hurts sometimes. Not that he'd ever admit it. Roman walked awkwardly to the couch while holding his warm milk, looking at the TV, the movie was paused. "The Princess Bride?" Janus nodded "My favorite movie." Roman sat down on the opposite side of the old greying couch. A squeak amides from the springs allowing Roman to bounce up slightly spilling a tiny bit of milk over the top of his mug. "Shit." Roman cussed at the bit of his milk spilled on his shirt. "Here." Janus handed the creative side a handkerchief that he kept in his pocket. Roman paused for a second staring at it. "I don't want to get it dirty." Baffled at the idea that Janus was being kind of nice? Yeah there was a catch to this that Roman wasn't getting. Janus rolled his eyes. "You can keep this one, I got others. And by the way I have chamomile tea, that might help you sleep better than milk." Roman carefully took the cloth as if he held it to hard it would explode. "I don't trust your tea, you'll try to poison me or something." Janus scoffed. "If I wanted to kill you I would've done it a while ago. I know I'm a liar, but Jesus Roman, how low do you think I am?" Roman paused for a second and considered Janus's words as he looked down at the deceitful sides hands. He wasn't used to seeing them without the gloves. Course and rough looking with veins sticking out. "Okay, I trust you..."

Chapter 2

Master Post

[punkclowngod]

The things you're talking about with OSDD and feeling like your trauma was happening from a 3rd person perspective. Not wanting to declare that you have another mental illness because you're not sure. I relate. A lot. Deeply. What snapped me out of the speculations was taking a deep breath and keeping myself grounded in the present. I was far more dissociated than I realized. I asked myself, "How do you feel right now?" and "What do you want right now?" For me, I realized I didn't actually know. I was just doing the things I thought I wanted. I was defining myself according to perceptions perpetuated by others that I had internalized. I thought I was a messy, unstable person because I was diagnosed with BPD and have acted that way because I thought that was what I had to do. I thought it was natural for me. In reality, I was playing a role. (It's actually incredibly likely that I am Schizoid, but have made great efforts to avoid being detected; in my case, putting on an elaborate, emotional charade to hide in plain sight. However, the diagnosis is less important to me now than it once was. I used to care a lot about diagnosis, now I'm spending more time listening to myself.) It's almost like I was watching myself from the outside and putting together possible explanations. In my vicious scramble to find answers and "be myself", I had lost sight of who I was and how I really felt. Focusing on staying present and minimizing dissociation has not been easy, but it has been incredibly helpful. It has helped me rediscover who I am. I can finally breathe and I am finally able to examine myself accurately in retrospect. I don't know if that helps, but it has been my experience.

oh yeah definitely, the constant role playing, trying to piece together who i am so i can act accordingly all the time is a struggle i’ve had for a long time that i attributed to bpd for years.

and for the dissociation, i am more aware now that i’m pretty much constantly in a dissociated state, that i’m never fully “there”. i often overlook it and attribute it to whatever disorder i already know i have feels the closest and then don’t question myself more about it, just to avoid complications or spiraling.

my sense of self has always been based on how people describe me and how i remember certain ways of acting that i have, i’ve always played the role that i thought was me, but it became such a habit that it was automatic.

diagnoses used to be sooo important to me when i was younger, but now if a diagnosis doesn’t benefit me, then i don’t want it. i don’t want people who have power over me to easily know what disorders i have. the only diagnosis that is vital to me was my autism diagnosis. but now that i have it, i have no interest in pursuing any other, as a form of self preservation. i do not want authority figures to know my disorders, i do not want it to be even easier for them to abuse their power over me.

the present is definitely something that i practically never live in, especially since i am really under stimulated on a daily basis. i do not go to school, i don’t have a job and i have a very limited amount of money. so most of my days consist on waiting, waiting that the day ends. i know that living in the present would help, but the apathetic boredom that comes with under stimulation is something that truly scares me and i avoid it as much as possible. i have made peace with my fluctuating identity and personality as much as i can because confronting the reality of having no social life and no stimulation and having to find a way to cope with all that’s happening is something i do not think i can survive. of course this only worsens the dissociation, but i truly think it’s for the better. i cannot live with boredom.

your message does motivate me to at least try, but i don’t have any expectations as to find clarity. boredom definitely scares me more than anxiety and paranoia and it’s a risk that i think is very rarely worth it. maybe when i’ll feel more stable i’ll try to just,.. live in the present, it’s definitely something that i hope i can learn to do, but in my immediate circumstances it doesn’t feel safe nor realistic. dissociating is definitely the thing that is keeping me the most stable and i’m not ready to distance myself from it yet.

i do want to understand if i do have OSDD, but i really do have to take as much time as i can. i’m in a too fragile state to try to change my habits. when i move out i’ll probably be able to try, right now a lot of things depend on when i’ll move out as living with my mother is definitely slowly killing me.

i really appreciate you sending this and it is helpful, i can’t wait until i’m able to live in the present and understand myself better. people sending their experiences with this kind of thing truly helps and comforts me, so thank you /gen