#reducing them to the bare essentials

[hushimstressed]

been in my head for a few days now

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

[chaoticace2005]

Spiders, their senses, and Angel Dust implications

I already screamed to @xxqueenofdragonsxx about this but figured I’d put it out there because I was doing research and I can’t stop thinking about it.

While we don’t know how canon it is to the show, this does have some implications for fanfics and is fun to consider.

Spiders don’t have ears. Or noses. Or tongues.

People have already made jokes about Angel’s lack of a nose, but it tracks with that fact. We also don’t see his ears, although we have seen his tongue (which, given he isn’t an actual spider there can be some allowances made.) Yes, he doesn’t have pedipalps to act as a substitution for his nose/tongue, but that isn’t the only place they can smell/taste things.

It’s their legs/feet(?). Their legs and bodies have sensory hair cells that allows them to detect vibrations in the air, as well as changes in electrical fields (which… Vox and Alastor implications? Can Angel sense them.) Humans hear via sensory hair cells too, but those are concentrated in the cochlea of the inner ear and surrounded by the outer/middle ear system (eardrum, etc.) Spiders don’t have that. They also have chemoreceptors that can smell and taste things.

Now, as someone who didn’t know much about spiders it’s cool to think about in terms of a character with some spider-like characteristics. But then I thought about this other aspect of Angel

His clothing

More specifically his constant usage of gloves/long sleeves/boots. We know he hates his spider feet, and yeah, the usage of gloves and his blazer can be to fit his style, but it’s also fun to think that maybe him wearing them is an active attempt to reduce sensory input? He’d still get some vibration input because the fabric won’t block everything, but it won’t be as direct. But since spider sensory organs aren’t localized like humans are, this could essentially be the equivalent of wearing a headphones. (Also do you really want to taste every single thing you touch?)

Which brings me to the second order of business: when he DOESNT wear his gloves. We do see him have to be bare for the camera, and if you consider him wearing clothes as a way of sensory modulation, he could essentially be forced to get all that input. Sensory overload would already be so ways in a place with so many sounds, lights, smells, etc. but imagine if you also have to do that when not used to such a level of exposure?

In humans there’s a condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a reduced pain and discomfort threshold to sounds. Some everyday ones can cause pain. Some neurodivergent people also have sensory sensitivities like that, in both cases sometimes headphones can help to reduce input.

The thing is though, if you constantly wear them you’re reducing your own threshold. It’s not recommended for people with hyperacusis to wear earplugs all the time because it makes them even more sensitive when not wearing them.

So, if you apply the same principle here, there is even more reason to consider the idea Angel would have some level of overstimulation just from not having his clothes on, combine that with the work environment, what he has to do, and the emotional turmoil of it all and that just makes it worse.

Which… with me anyways I’ve found when I’m too overloaded my brain tends to nope out and dissociate. So that could be what happens to Angel as well.

Then, there is one time outside of the studio we see him with uncovered arms and that’s the battle at the hotel.

Here, he’s wearing gloves but his arms are exposed. So it could be said that he’s allowing himself access to more input while also not overwhelming himself. He still has a buffer with the gloves on, but he also has heightened awareness for things around him.

Again, the amount of this actually being applicable in canon is hard to say. Sense we don’t know how spidery Angel really is (since again, he does have a tongue) and what level of research went into that aspect of their character designs. But I think it’s a fun thing to consider.

So uhhh… yeah. Totally normal about this all as someone who totally isn’t interested in audiology, hyperfixating on hazbin hotel, and neurodivergent myself.

(Update: there is now a fic)

[ghostlythunderbird]

The Pack ~ First Impressions

Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Human Trafficking and Domestic Violence, Extremist views, The UN exists here

Words: 2,784 (wow I wrote all that?!?!)

Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. This is my first ever series so it will be updated whenever I can, due to my difficult work schedule. But please sit back and enjoy this series! Special thanks to @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, and @photogirl894 for all the help!

“Breaking News: Omega populations continue to fall.”

With recent all-time highs of Omega trafficking and high numbers of Domestic Abuse against Omegas worldwide, Omega birth rates are dwindling by the thousands in the last few years. While Omega numbers fall, other secondary gender numbers have begun to rise, with Beta birthrates rising to a staggering 84% over the last 5 years. Are omegas in danger of dying out?~

“The fall of the Omega second gender; A modern extinction?”

Over the last decade, the number of omegas of age has drastically fallen. Omegas were once considered roughly 20% of the world population and contributed to approximately 70% of birthrates worldwide; their current population barely comes to 7% across the globe, and their birthrates are almost non-existent. Could this result from unregulated access to this world bearing second gender? Will the UN seek to restabilize their population, or will omegas be at the mercy of those around them?

What had become of the world before you were born? It was a nearly lawless land, people turning on one another. The fight for breeding rights or access to an omega led Alphas into utter madness, their biology overriding common sense. Your Dam had told you stories of her childhood, how she saw the fall of an entire second gender. How awful the world indeed became, and how it rose from those ashes carrying new hope and protection to those who seek it. She remembered how fearful her Sire and Dam were during those years, but that was before new laws were established. New laws ensured the ability to return Omegas to their higher numbers to provide their protection.

During the years of the Modern Extinction, the UN scrambled to place laws worldwide to protect and nurture omega numbers. However, many early regulations did nothing to buffer the steady decline. It wasn't until an organization was formed: The Global Omega Protection and Population Program (GOPPP) was introduced. The Program had only a few essential purposes, to Pair off omegas to ensure total protection; to free and rehabilitate omegas who were victims of Trafficking and Domestic Violence. And finally, it is a form of Breeding operation to help nurture omega populations to where they were years before. Omegas who had become legal adults would be admitted to the Program to soon be matched with compatible Alphas.

The only downside to this Program was many omegas were often treated as broodmares and were often left emotionally neglected. Reduced to their primary duties of bearing Alpha and Omega children with occasional betas to be their legacy. Omegas were unable to work, much less be able to leave their dens without an Alpha to accompany them. While many Alphas believe it would be better for their mates to be allowed to do certain things without them around, the Program often overlooked their words. Over time, however, newer generations believed these precautions were beyond necessary and soon revised or added new laws to accompany them. Their latest law is; Omegas who are in public must wear protective full-length collars even with their Alphas present.

Those laws were added when you were just a pup and still living simply, unknowing of the world around you. Soon you were forced to acknowledge the dark reality you were born into when you presented; An Omega. Your parents, who were born Betas, cried when your first heat started. They had prayed you would be a Beta or even an Alpha, but it seemed their prayers fell upon deaf ears from the higher power.

Unfortunately, the Program soon discovered your presentation at 16 years old. While you were still too young to be entered into the Program, It didn't stop them from preparing for that day. You remembered those late nights hearing your parents downstairs talking about you, about your soon-to-be future. Your Dam was terrified, talking to your Sire about the stories from other omega parents. For some, they ranged from fairytale endings, but a vast majority were nothing short of horror-made flesh. Omegas were emotionally manipulated and abused by the very alphas they were entrusted to.

As you grew older, your parents decided to wait a few more years for you to enjoy life before you became tied to your future mates. You were incredibly thankful they pushed back against the Program to allow you to enjoy your young adult years. But as your Sire would say, "Whether good or bad, everything must come to an end."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was bare as you and your parents waited for the Omega Protection program representative to enter. You wished you were never born as an Omega; you wouldn't have to go through this Program if you weren't. Facing the fact that you would be removed from your parent's home only to be moved in with alphas you've never met before, and said Alphas were already selected for you. These alphas were being forced on you without knowing how they acted towards you or the other alphas; their past, what they looked like, and their personalities were beyond wrong to you. You were slowly being drowned in uncertainty; so many things could go wrong, hell you didn't even know if your alphas were good.

Your Dam grabbed your hand, sensing the rising anxiety in your scent. "It will be ok dear; these alphas will protect you. There is nothing to fear from this." You knew her words were supposed to feel comforting, but you couldn't help but think bitterly, 'well, it isn't you being fed to the wolves.' Before you could say anything, the door began to creak open, causing your Sire and Dam to straighten to greet the person walking in. You, however, just sunk into the couch, begging for it to open and swallow you whole.

As the door opened fully, it revealed two Betas entering, one male and one female. Their scents were almost non-existent as they stepped further into the room before sitting on the couch across from your family. "Good Morning, Mr. and Ms. (L/N); we're delighted you're here. My name is Matthew, and my partner is Hannah." The male beta spoke as he gestured to the woman beside him. "We will handle your daughter's case and pack introduction today." At the brief mention of you, the Betas locked onto your form. Noticing your rising anxiety, the female beta spoke up to clear the air.

"And you must be (y/n); I'm sure this is very overwhelming for you, but rest assured we have made plenty of healthy matches over the years," Her voice was quiet yet soft as the words fluttered from her lips. You could only briefly smile; she wanted you to trust her and her judgment. But even with that, you couldn't help but dread your matches. The fact you had to blindly trust two strangers who picked your lifelong mates was beyond unnerving.

Hannah leaned back into the couch, making herself comfortable. "now, before we introduce you and your parents to your new pack, we have a few things to discuss before we bring them in, ok?" The tension in the air was heavy as Matthew and Hannah shared a look before continuing. "Well, you know our priority is to pair all omegas with a pack of alphas to ensure their safety and increase omega birthrates. That being said, the pack selected for you is not exactly regular by our standards." That wasn't what you expected; you couldn't decide if you were more worried or curious about this confession.

This pack may be more interesting than you had initially thought. The dark-headed male cleared his throat, continuing, "This pack was already together before their application to our Program; these alphas are also active military with clean records. Two originate from Europe while the other is from the US; along with that, one of these alphas just so happens to be an uh...Apex alpha." Upon hearing this, the air in your lungs evaporated in mere seconds as a chill ran down your spine. This pack had seemed almost too good to be true, but with information, it only made you dread your initial meeting. Apexes were often found to be extremely dangerous, unable to control themselves in high emotional and hormonal situations.

Your Sire drew in a breath. "So what does that mean for our daughter? Why in the hell was she assigned to an Apex?" His growl filled the air. Also, being a beta, your father was not at threatening as an alpha could be, but with a protective Sire, anyone would be cautious with their following decisions. Matthew grew stiff. "With all due respect, sir, we've gone through an extensive background check with this apex. The alphas packed with him are his fellow service members who can fully vouch for him." Your eyes widened, a packed apex with people who know how he works; this pack was unusual and rare. 'Well, from what it sounds like so far, they don't seem like bad people. Maybe this is one of those lucky matches.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He couldn't stand; still, the chairs were far too small for him, and standing in the quiet room only made his nerves light up more than they already were. König paused to look at the door; it was closing to an hour since the three alphas were left in the room. The beta Hannah had told them to wait a few minutes, and they'd bring in their omega and her family. His body responded to the thought; after so many years of rejection letter after another, this felt like some sick prank to the Austrian apex. He was so nervous that he couldn't stay still, pacing back and forth and wiping his palms along his jeans.

His companions couldn't help but tease the anxiety-ridden giant. "König, relax, man. If you keep pacing, you might carve out a path in the floor." The dark-headed alpha joked as he shifted in his chair. While König was the most visibly anxious of the trio, Keegan attempted to keep himself calm, even with the bubbling excitement growing in his gut. Keegan's eyes traveled across the room, glancing between furniture and the small window. 'Not much cover, but at least it would be difficult for a potential sniper.'

"At least he's standin' up, be less of a shock to 'er." Ghost's voice echoed through the small room, breaking his zoned-out stare for a split second. The alpha had taken the only viable spot and backed into the furthest corner facing the doorway. Keegan snorted at the other alpha's remark; he knew it was true. König was massive on a human scale, but more so because he was an apex alpha. Before he could respond to the blonde-haired alpha, he heard two pairs of footsteps coming down the hall. Leaning up in his chair, Keegan sounded a low chuff to gain the other's attention before nodding towards the door.

Ghost made no move to his form; König, however, rushed to fix his messy hair to appear somewhat presentable. Keegan gave König a reassuring nod right before the door opened, and the heavenly scent of an omega swept through the small space. First, the Program's beta entered but then appeared their soon-to-be omega mate. 'Jesus, she's so.....small compared to us.' You ducked your head as the alphas zeroed in on you once you passed the threshold. Looking towards the blonde and black-haired alphas, you couldn't help but think that this wasn't as bad until you turned to look at, by far, the largest alpha you'd ever seen. His size had taken you aback, and the previous thought of being able to handle this pack was thrown entirely out the window.

Hannah gently rested her hand on your shoulder to regain your attention "(Y/N) meet your pack; first, we have Keegan Russ." Pointing to the smallest alpha, his eyes caught your attention first. They were a beautiful grey-blue that seemed to freeze you in place but also held a hidden sadness underneath them. Even with him being the smallest of the three, he knew he had a certain charm. His stature, eyes, and confident yet arrogant attitude had people flocking to him no matter their presentation. "Next, we have Ghost; that is his preferred name for now." The alpha in the corner made no attempt to move as his eyes raked over you before giving a slight nod. While his face was covered by a black medical mask, it didn't take away from his rugged beauty much; a mop of blonde hair with hooded brown eyes that slightly shined. Turning toward the last alpha, you could feel the tension between the betas and him. "Finally, we have the apex, König." She didn't seem too keen about him being here. A wave of well-maintained anger for what he was seemed to drive her not to acknowledge him; you couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt toward him.

Although he had a large size, he seemed to fold in on himself, attempting to appear smaller to not scare you away. Unfortunately, you couldn't see much of him other than his eyes, a blue that reminded you of the ocean. "well, we will leave you all to get acquainted while we finish the paperwork and have her parents gather her things." With a final look over her shoulder, Hannah closed the door behind her leaving you with your new pack. Looking towards the alphas whose gaze tore into you, you could only give a slight grin "u-uh, hi there!"

Before you knew it, they all moved at once; while it wasn't swift, it still caused you to reel back slightly. You knew you couldn't just leave, so you forced yourself to stay still as Ghost reached towards you to grab your wrist in a firm hold. He brought your wrist close to his nose so he could capture your scent adequately, only releasing a deep chuff before slowly letting your wrist fall back to your side. The large apex released his own chuff before drawing in a breath. "H-Hallo omega, or (Y/N) w-which ever you want us to call you. If you even want us to use your name." His stuttering surprised you; how could this large apex even stutter? There was no reason for his nervousness, or so you thought.

Keegan stepped forward, touching the larger alpha's enormous bicep. "Take it easy, König; I doubt she's gonna bite you, right, Doll?" His joking tone helped ease the remaining tension in the room. 'At least these guys could take and make jokes,' You thought as you gave Keegan a toothy smile. "Only if you want me to, big guy." Giving the apex a wink, sending his gaze to the floor in embarrassment, and driving a laugh out of Ghost and Keegan.

The new-found atmosphere dissipated once a knock sounded on the other side of the door. Matthew and Hannah were soon looking in to check in on the four of you. "Well, everything is in order; I'm sure you are ready to head home. So we will allow Ms.(Y/N) to say her goodbyes to her parents before you all leave." Oh, that's right; you had forgotten you were being moved out of your parent's home and into your shared home with these alphas. Looking back at your parents, you caught sight of your Dam trying to clean up her remaining tears. While your Sire attempted to keep a stone face for you. Lunging towards them, your Dam and Sire tangled you up in their arms, whispering, "It will be ok little love; you'll see us again." "Please text us at least so we know your adjusting, ok?"

It broke your heart to leave them, but you all knew this was in your best interest. Drawing back from them, you reached to wipe away a few stray tears on your cheeks. "I love you guys. I'll try and stay in touch, I promise." Your words catch slightly in your throat. Stepping away from your parents, you looked towards the three alphas who stood off to the side, not wanting to rush your goodbye.

Stepping towards them, you stopped when Keegan and König took their places on either side of you. Ghost had left to pull their vehicle around, and as you started walking towards the main entrance, König offered his hand to you. "Don't worry Schatz, we will all die for you as long as it means you are safe." His words send a wave of heat through your body by his bold declaration. With a final look back toward your parents, you offered them a bright grin as you were guided away.

'Everything will be ok."

Tag list: @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @wintersnnowie, @operatorinvestigatesco, @marytvirgin

Once again this is my first ever series so I apologize if somethings need work, am still a wee babe in the writing world XD

Translations: Schatz (German) - Treasure

[fungifanart]

Budget for love

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Ruggie Bucchi, Grim

CW: Skipping meals, existential dread, money problems

Word count: 2,032

Notes: I heard a voice one night, urging me to write a Ruggie fic...that voice was mine. I just like Ruggie.

---------------------------------------‐-------------------------

Ruggie Bucchi's financial status is, by no means, a secret.

Ever since he enrolled at Night Raven College, he's garnered a reputation for being a money-grubbing cheapskate who can reduce any merchant to their knees through his skill at haggling alone, all due to his lack of financial security.

Growing up in the slums will do that to a guy, he supposes.

Along with that, growing up poor has also instilled in him a certain pettiness and resentment in regards to the more privileged classes, which just so happen to make up a very large portion of NRC's student body.

Joy.

Well, if nothing else, this makes it easy to simply view most of the other students as potential pickpocket targets.

However, this also makes it easy to forget that not all of them are more well-off than he is, meaning it's especially jarring when he comes across a certain Prefect and direbeast having an argument in Sam's on-campus store.

"C'mon, Henchman! You're telling me we can't afford ONE little extra can of tuna?" Grim argues while clutching said can of tuna to his chest tightly.

"Yes I am, Grim. With our budget, we can barely even afford the bare essentials for this week. That 'one little extra can' will push us over the edge for sure!" The Prefect argues back with the look of a tired father trying in vain to reason with his stubborn child, "Listen, I get paid for my work at the Mostro Lounge on Friday, right? I know you've still got some of your secret stash left, so if you can hold out until then, I'll get you a can of the fancy tuna as a reward. How's that sound?"

That last statement causes Grim's face to light up as he immediately drops the can of regular tuna and hugs the Prefect while exclaiming, "Deal!"

Ruggie doesn't do anything. He simply watches, mildly dazed at what should have been a fact he already knew as the Prefect finishes paying for his essentials and leaves the store with Grim as Ruggie continues to stand there before being brought back to his senses by another student telling to him to move out of the way.

Ruggie doesn't see the Prefect again for a few days after that, their schedules never seeming to allow them even a passing glance in the halls, but the memory of what he saw that day still lingers in his mind for a reason he can’t quite identify right now.

The next time Ruggie does see the Prefect is in the cafeteria during lunch.

It's one of the rare occasions where he hasn't been ordered by Leona to get his lunch for him, so he's taking his time, scanning the tables for a place to sit when he notices the Prefect sitting across from his feline companion while said companion munches away at his food.

Seeing no other open seats, Ruggie walks over and says, "Long time, no see, Prefect! Mind if I sit here?" He asks despite not waiting for the other man's answer and plopping himself and his tray down in the spot next to him.

"O-oh! Yeah, that's fine." The Prefect responds before turning his head back to Grim as he eats, but Ruggie can't help but notice the lack of food on his side of the table.

"Dang, Prefect! I wish I got here sooner so I could've seen the carnage!" Ruggie remarks while playfully nudging the other man's shoulder.

"Huh? What do you mean?" The Prefect asks confusedly.

"Oh, come on! YOU finishing your food before GRIM? I can only imagine how much you stuffed your face to make that happen!" Ruggie concludes with a snicker before taking a bite of one of his sandwiches.

The Prefect blinks a couple times before responding, "Oh, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I didn't get lunch." He says, causing the hyena to choke on his food.

"W-whaddaya mean you 'didn't get lunch'???" Ruggie questions after chugging his water.

The Prefect shrugs, "Just what I said. We have some leftovers at Ramshackle that I could’ve brought, but we were in such a rush this morning that we couldn't even eat breakfast, much less prepare any lunch and running back between classes would take too long. Therefore, we had no choice but to buy lunch from here, but I had barely enough cash to get food for one of us and it'd kill me to see Grim go hungry, so I figured I'd be fine if I skipped a meal or two." He concludes nonchalantly.

Ruggie proceeds to sit there, dumbfounded, as the Prefect goes back to watching Grim eat, his face content, but with a hint of melancholy.

Ruggie knows that look. He's seen it countless times in his childhood on the faces of some of the adults in his neighborhood as they forwent their own food just to let their children eat.

He doesn't remember seeing a lot of them around last time he went home.

His mind snaps back to the present as he looks down at his lunch tray piled high with the food he bought using money he'd snuck out of Leona's wallet and then back at the empty space in front of the Prefect, his stomach suddenly not feeling as empty as before.

Wordlessly, Ruggie takes two of his sandwiches and slides them over to the other man, who looks back at him in bewilderment.

"Ruggie? What's this for?" The Prefect asks.

Ruggie clears his throat awkwardly before responding, "W-well, it's just that it turns out I got more food than I'll probably eat, so I thought 'why not', right?" He says while forcing his signature laugh.

Luckily, the Prefect doesn't seem to read into his awkwardness as his suppressed hunger resurfaces on his face and he proceeds to practically inhale the sandwiches after giving a rushed "Thanks!"

In a matter of seconds, the sandwiches have completely disappeared, leaving Ruggie both amazed and...oddly fulfilled upon seeing the Prefect’s own satisfaction from having a full stomach.

Huh...that's new.

Ruggie's been so used to pinching his and other people's pennies at this school that helping out seemingly the only other student that's in the same boat as him, even without getting anything in return, feels...nice.

Nice feelings like this are few and far in between with a lifestyle like Ruggie's, so now that he's felt it, he proceeds to chase it whenever he can.

From that day onward, Ruggie makes a point to help out the Prefect if he has the time, starting with offering him a simple snack between classes or pointing him in the right direction if he gets lost, before slowly escalating into him stepping in to haggle Sam's prices down for him and even taking his hand and physically leading him to where he needs to go, not noticing the increasingly flustered looks on the other man's face.

He doesn't know when exactly it happened, but after a while, that simple nice feeling turned into something more...warm and fuzzy that he feels blooming in his chest as he and the Prefect grow closer, finding more and more time to spend with each other, whether it being studying together or going out to the market, until one night, they find themselves gazing up at the stars on the hill just outside of Ramshackle.

Looking over at the stars reflecting in the Prefect’s eyes, Ruggie can't deny how beautiful they look. And what he also can't deny is the fact that he's grown attached their owner.

He can’t help but imagine what the future could hold for the two of them.

But then he remembers who the Prefect is.

He's an otherworlder. The one destined to leave this world behind in favor of the one where he actually belongs.

The only future that exists for Ruggie and the Prefect is one where he waves goodbye as the other man disappears into the Dark Mirror forever.

But that doesn't mean he has to be okay with it. That doesn't mean he can't still want the Prefect to stay, preferably with him.

"Can I ask you something?" Ruggie questions.

"Sure, what is it?" The Prefect responds, looking over at Ruggie, the serene expression on his face only further solidifying his feelings.

"Just out of curiosity, what would you do if you couldn't go back to your world?" Ruggie asks, noting how the other man tenses up at the question.

"W-well, I guess I'd keep going here until I graduate..." The Prefect responds in a way that doesn't fully answer Ruggie's question.

"Ok? And then what about after that?" Ruggie pushes.

".......................To be honest, I try not to think about it." The Prefect finally answers with a sigh, "People always say that graduating from here basically guarantees success in life, but how many high-ranking, high-paying jobs are actually there for someone like me in a world like this, even as a so-called 'beast tamer'? And that's not even accounting for me not having any official documentation since I wasn't born here! Hell, the most Crowley will do is cover up the fact that he has an undocumented individual among his students, so if I can't find a way to become a citizen by graduation, I'm out of luck!" He concludes while bringing his hands to his face in frustration.

Ruggie...can't say he's ever thought about that. And now he's feeling extra bad for the Prefect as he thinks of ways he might be able to help.

And it's then that he remembers a certain law in the Sunset Savanna and his trademark mischievous smile spreads across his face.

"Y'know, if citizenship's a big issue for you, we could always get married!" He blurts out, breaking the other man out of his wallowing as he chokes in surprise before letting out a laugh.

"You shouldn't joke about that!" The Prefect says with a giggle and a playful push against the hyena's shoulder.

"Hey! I'm serious!" Ruggie responds in a very unserious tone, "One of the laws in the Sunset Savanna says that if you marry one of its citizens, then you'll become a full citizen yourself!"

The Prefect's laughter dies down as he ponders this information, "Wait, really? How did THAT come about?" He asks, genuinely interested.

"Well, since it's ruled by lions, the kingdom's basically viewed as one, giant pride so being accepted by one of its members means being accepted into the pride, no questions asked." Ruggie explains.

"I feel like that leaves a lot of room for exploitation, though." The Prefect says thoughtfully.

"Hey, that works out for you, though. Doesn't it?" Ruggie says cheekily, earning another soft push against his shoulder.

"Don't act like this is set in stone already when we haven't even been on a proper date yet!" The other man argues lightheartedly.

"Well, if we're not counting all those study dates and market dates, then I guess you're right." Ruggie says bluntly, "So I'm free this Saturday if you wanna make it official."

The Prefect’s giggles stop as he looks at the hyena in surprise, who looks back at him with the first serious expression he's worn since the start of the conversation.

"I want you to know that I'm actually serious about this." Ruggie says while looking into the Prefect’s eyes, "I wouldn't throw an idea like that around willy-nilly, y'know."

The other man blinks for a couple seconds before his expression softens, "Alright, fine. How about this: IF I can't go home AND we both feel the same way after graduation, then I'll marry you. Deal?" He says while holding out his hand, clearly not fully convinced about Ruggie's conviction.

"Shishishi, deal!" The hyena says before shaking the Prefect’s hand and turning his head back towards the night sky, satisfied.

"Heh. So you're free this Saturday, huh?" The Prefect says before leaning over and pressing a kiss onto Ruggie's cheek, causing his heart rate to accelerate, "I'll look forward to it."

With heat blooming on his face, Ruggie feels that warm feeling in his chest again, but this time, he's able to put a name to it: Love.

[blueballsracing]

how the 2008 stock market crash led to jenson button's WDC

jenson was racing for honda through 2006-2008 and had been familiar with the honda engine since around 2003. when the stock market crash occurred, honda realized they did not have enough money to keep funding the F1 team in 2009 as they needed to focus on their own business. the team would cost them 300 million USD and they ended up having to layoff their staff of 700 right after the stock market crash. they pulled out LAST minute (literally at the end of the 2008 season) and at that point, they had already had a car. both the drivers for honda (barrichello and button) couldn't find a seat last minute, and here comes ross brawn.

they were eventually saved by their team principal ross brawn, who was a really amazing strategist (teams that he has worked with have won 8 constructors' championships and 8 drivers' championships) and also was the technical director behind the benetton and ferrari championship-winning teams. he was pretty much responsible/led michael schumacher to victory for his 7 wdc. honda sells him and the chief executive nick fry the team.

and–get this, the team was sold for 1 pound. ONE SINGULAR POUND. to this day, honda's boss still has the pound coin Brawn used to buy the team. although the team could've been seen as a continuation of the Honda team, the FIA considered Brawn GP a completely new entry.

going into the 2009 season, they had no engine, because honda refused to supply it for them. at the last minute, mercedes supplies them engines (at this point merc supplies mclaren with engines too) but the mercedes team kept saying that the engines were built for the mclaren car, not the honda/brawn car. brawn was like "let's have it anyways" and they bought the mercedes engines.

there was even a loophole brawn found that wasn't even against the rules (although there was a lawsuit about it and ofc a bunch of team principals were upset about it, notably christian horner, but it was completely legal)

The most obvious visual differentiator on the Brawn car was its double-decker diffuser. The new regulations had intended to strip the cars of downforce by reducing the size of the diffuser, but a loophole was left open that allowed for a second diffuser to be built into the crash structure and fed by two very controversial holes in the floor of the car. A bigger diffuser created more low pressure under the car, which created more downforce and allowed higher cornering speeds.

going into the 2009 season, no one really expected them to be fast, of course, going under massive management changes and even drivers taking massive paycuts (jenson took a 5 million pound pay cut at the beginning of the season). the drivers were even told that they couldn't crash because they didn't have enough parts:

Above all else, the team could not afford a major accident as it simply didn't have the parts to replace a wrecked chassis.

and here's something from reddit saying that even a team that was essentially created in a few months had at least 3 chassis for 2 drivers (williams is shivering their timbers rn)

also, very notably, the car was practically NAKED (next to zero stickers!)

they were sponsored by like 4 companies: virgin airlines, MIG investments, henri lloyd, and perkinelmer. so, yeah, very naked car compared to what we see today.

you can also see jenson's suit here, and notice it's very bare! there's next to zero sponsors! for some races, they would have a couple of sponsors where they would put the stickers on, and then take it off after the race.

of course, with the lack of financial stability in the team, they only had the ability to upgrade 1 car at a time because of the lack of money.

in a shocking turn of events, at pre-season testing, they were like WTF when they saw they simulation showed that they were 1-1.5 seconds quicker than the field. and EVERYONE at the factory was freaking out, saying "surely these numbers are wrong." and then they checked the numbers, and they are still faster than everybody.

in a miracle type of god-given wish, button with brawn win the first race of the 2009 season in australia! he's even .2 seconds clear of barrichello in qualifying, and to this day, brawn's first win on its debut stands out as one of F1's biggest moments. jenson wins 6/7 of the first few races, then falls off a lil (but only retires once in the entire season). he is beaten by sebastian vettel a couple times, who ends up coming 2nd in the WDC, and rubens ends third (he's upset brawn prioritizes jenson over him but he has the championship lead, so it's only really fair they prioritize him).

on their debut season, they go on to win the constructor's championship and jenson wins the driver's championship!

it's a really impressive story, and one can definitely see the causation between the stock market crash and jenson button's wdc!

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

(Sorry if this is too weird for you. You can just ignore it if you like.)

So...what's it like to drink the Ghoul's piss? I'm wondering about taste, smell, temperature, and side-effects.

*blush*

(*Homelander voice* Go ahead...let's light this candle, huh??)

Friend, when I said this blog is kink-friendly and I don't judge, I meant that this blog is kink-friendly and I don't judge. I've yet to get a single ask/question/request that's made me uncomfortable, or even made me look at it funny, and this certainly isn't the point where I'm gonna start. With that said...

The taste? Oh babe, lemme tell you, it's not good. Don't get me wrong, I don't think anyone in the Fallout universe would have inoffensive-tasting piss (chronic dehydration is too widespread and frankly these people have fucked-up diets, plus constant radiation exposure for most of them). But I fully believe that ghoul metabolic processes are streamlined to utilize any beneficial resources with maximum efficiency (chiefly, calories and water; this would fall in line with characters like The Ghoul being put into situations where they survive for years and years with no food or water). To be blunt, I don't think his kidneys are producing a ton of urine, save for the bare minimum of biological waste that comes from them simply operating.

Long story short, I think the man maybe pisses once every few days if he's had enough water, and it would be dark and STRONG, both in smell and taste.

I also have a headcanon that ghouls run noticeably hotter than regular humans due to the sheer amount of energy that gamma radiation produces. The radiation alone may not produce much measurable physical heat, but I think a human body plied with it down to the cell level would basically work as a space heater. I don't think most ghouls worry about thermoregulation in the heat.

You know what that means, though? Incredibly hot piss. Like, steaming hot even when it's not cold outside. Hot enough to make you gasp when it hits your skin, startling without actually burning you.

In terms of side-effects from contact or ingesting, I'm envisioning the same sort of deal as with ghoul cum (which I elaborated on in an almost-equally unhinged post here); it's incredibly radioactive and will make you very ill if you fuck around too much. Getting a little on you probably wouldn't be any worse than trudging through your average puddle of nuclear waste, but if you're intending to have it inside you in any way, especially swallowing it, you need to be careful. Prep with Rad-X (which reduces the amount of radiation that "sticks" to you, up to a certain point), finish up with Radaway (which removes already-accumulated radiation) if you're determined to be a piss queen or a ghoul cum dumpster. No judgement! I just want to make sure you know you're in for some pretty severe nausea, open sores/burns (especially in your mouth), bleeding from the nose, and bruising if you're not careful. We love nasty fun around here, but we also love safety.

Also, you didn't ask about this, but based on what you DID ask, I'll assume you'd also be interested in knowing what his reaction to you bringing up such things would be.

And honestly? I think you'd get essentially the same reaction from Prewar!Coop and The Ghoul.

I think he'd be hesitant. Not because he finds it too gross or off-putting or anything, but he'd worry that it'll be disrespectful to you in a way that he, as a man, shouldn't engage in (moreso Prewar!Coop), and because he's worried it could be harmful to you (moreso The Ghoul). Don't get me wrong; I think he'd certainly be intrigued, and I think you being both bold and vulnerable enough to ask for such a thing would make his head spin in the best possible way. What a display of trust! As I've said before, I think this man had (and has) lots of weird kinks himself, he just hasn't had the opportunities to explore them that he needs. Many of those kinks he doesn't even realize he has.

But even though you can see that intrigue in his pretty eyes, see the forming bulge in his pants, you may have to be persistent if you really wanna try it out. He's very firm about not doing anything that'll really harm you, and he isn't initially convinced this won't.

If I'm quite honest? Prewar!Cooper would be even more turned on by it than The Ghoul once he came around to the idea. I think it would arouse him so much to see his favorite pretty little plaything so enamored with him that they'll do anything to please him, for him to make them feel good, including debase themselves completely. I think that you being so into him that you want him to piss on you, in you, would both stroke his ego and feed his most primal, possessive urges.

Best bet to get him started? Hop in the shower with him, get him all worked up as per usual, and then drop to your knees and start blowing him. Once you get him worked up enough that he could very nearly cum, pull back and keep stroking him slowly while you beg for it. Provided you've timed things right, there's no way he'd be able to say no...just give him a second. It's difficult to piss with a massive, throbbing erection. Maybe if you played with the head (with your tongue) while he tried, that would help. Who says you have to pull away when he finally starts if you don't want to?

Hope you're ready for an engagement ring after that.

The Ghoul mostly finds appeal in how filthy it is, in seeing this clean, gorgeous young thing having to dirty themselves to survive. Eventually, fully embracing the filth because they're part of the Wasteland now, coming to enjoy filth to some degree. I think that aspect of it would really get him going. Remember that scene where he watches Lucy drink the contaminated water that ultimately makes her sick? I saw a post on here when I first started the blog (I can't find it now!) about him offering Lucy an alternative to that when she was begging for some of his water...it really awakened something in me. Enough said.

I think he'd enjoy it as much as you, when it came down to it, but I think he would also make you beg for it, loudly and fervently, every single time you want it. From the very first time, it's gonna rile him up like no other that his pristine little companion is begging him to dirty them in such a disgusting way. I don't think he'd be too keen on letting you swallow it, honestly, much like I don't think he'd be too keen on letting you swallow his cum because of the radiation. But I think if you ask pretty enough, nasty enough, he'd be more than happy to piss on you or in your other holes. Only if he knows you're set up with plenty of Radaway, though.

People don't really get "engaged", or even married anymore, per se, but if you think you're getting away from this man after you let him do that to you, you're sorely mistaken.

[sayruq]

 As the escalation of the conflict extends to its 19th day, a staggering 2.2 million people are now in urgent need of food. Prior to the hostilities, 104 trucks a day would deliver food to the besieged Gaza Strip, one truck every 14 minutes. 

Despite 62 trucks of aid being allowed to enter southern Gaza via the Rafah crossing since the weekend, only 30 contained food and in some cases, not exclusively so. This amounts to just one truck every three hours and 12 minutes since Saturday. 

[...]

International Humanitarian Law (IHL) strictly prohibits the use of starvation as a method of warfare and as the occupying power in Gaza, Israel is bound by IHL obligations to provide for the needs and protection of the population of Gaza. In 2018, the UN Security Council adopted resolution 2417, which unanimously condemned the use of starvation against civilians as a method of warfare and declared any denial of humanitarian access a violation of international law. Oxfam said that it is becoming painfully clear that the unfolding humanitarian situation in Gaza squarely fits the prohibition condemned in the resolution. 

Clean water has now virtually run out.  It’s estimated that only three litres of clean water are now available per person – the UN said that a minimum of 15 litres a day is essential for people in the most acute humanitarian emergencies as a bare minimum. Bottled water stocks are running low and the cost of bottled water has already surged beyond the reach of an average Gaza family, with prices spiking fivefold in some places. A spokesperson for the UN Agency for Palestinian Refugees (UNWRA) pointed out that some of the food aid allowed in - rice and lentils - is useless, because people do not have clean water or fuel to prepare them. 

A series of airstrikes have left several bakeries and supermarkets either destroyed or damaged. Those that are still functional, can’t meet the local demand for fresh bread and are at risk of shutting down due to the shortage of essentials like flour and fuel. Gaza’s only operative wheat mill is redundant due to the power outages. The Palestinian Water Authority says Gaza's water production is now a mere 5 percent of its normal total, which is expected to reduce further, unless water and sanitation facilities are provided with electricity or fuel to resume its activity. 

Notably, essential food items, like flour, oil and sugar, are still stocked in warehouses that haven’t been destroyed. But as many of them are located in Gaza city, it is proving physically impossible to deliver items due to the lack of fuel, damaged roads and risks from airstrikes.  

The electricity blackout has also disrupted food supplies by affecting refrigeration, crop irrigation, and crop incubation devices.  Over 15,000 farmers have lost their crop production and 10,000 livestock breeders have little access to fodder, with many having lost their animals. Oxfam said that the siege, combined with the airstrikes, has crippled the fishing industry with hundreds of people who rely on fishing losing access to the sea. 

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, I was just thinking about the UA entrance exam.

Specifically, how terribly designed it is, but not for the reason they seem to give in the story itself.

Like, here's how it is: Aizawa is shown criticising the UA Entrance Exam once, during the Sports Festival. And the ONE criticism he makes, is that the use of Robot enemies during the exam would disproportionately affect people whose Quirk work against biological opponents, essentially.

His one criticism, is that the exam is not designed to also cater to people like him, and that's it. The way therefore it's set up, it'd be logical to assume he'd ask for a restructuring to the exam to remove the Robots and substitute them with live enemies, possibly Ectoplasm clones.

This is never brought up again, aside from maybe a stealth bring up during the mid term exams when they switch the exam from fighting robots to fighting teachers.

The exam is, and I just got to it myself while watching this video about how Copaganda paints police training and the relative risk police officers face on the job, set up in a very specific environment:

An empty town, where what is essentially a murder spree is taking place. The ONLY entities in the place, outside of fellow examinee, are robots that have been literally designed to attack everyone on sight, and that need to be destroyed to pass. The points granted from saving people are hidden, so they can be more "genuine" of course, and are, ultimately, also part of the problem.

Because here's the fucking thing.

When the fuck is that ever going to happen.

When the fuck, is a superhero, after their 5 years of Hero training in high school, then entering the work force without a need for a decree in higher education, ever going to find themselves in an environment where they can use LETHAL FORCE on civilian targets? With no restraint or care for collateral damage?

And where they are ENCOURAGED to kill as many criminals as they can, and NOT collaborate with other heroes? Because that's another thing, you need to steal points from other people to pass, by culling the number of limited robots, much like heroes are paid by the arrest and by popularity.

You do understand how fucked up that starts to sound right? The other, the enemy, is reduced as a caricature Droid from star wars, there only to kill and destroy, and against whom your only TWO methods of defeat are outright destruction or sneak attacks on their off buttons.

And here's the cherry on the shit too, because, AGAIN, when is that EVER going to be the case?

Do you know how many heroes show up in the first villain attack in BNHA?

Five.

Two are engaging a purse snatcher, three are doing crowd control, the Slime Villain, who may I remind you was guilty of robbery at a convenience store before he got the hostage, gets THE NUMBER ONE HERO, as well as those same FIVE heroes involved, of which only BACKDRAFT is actually doing anything.

Now, imagine you are a hero school, and you produce 40 heroes a year, just like every other hero school out there. How many of those heroes will see active duty, if the rate of crimes demand FIVE heroes to react to ONE criminal?

And people will say "but EDS, this mentality is later rewarded when All Might retires and it all falls to shit," Except NOT REALLY, because that's an externally forced situation caused by, and I can't stress this enough, a hundreds of yeas old NEET boomer who read too many Doctor Doom comics as a kid and decided to become a supervillain, the riots, the open air warfare, is only caused by AFO forcing the hand and inciting popular unrest, which is an unrealistic thing to expect off any society.

In one of the movies, Class 1-A is sent to open an hero agency on a small island with barely a village on it. 20 Heroes. Until the movie truly picks up, the best they do is help kittens from trees, and Bakugou, the sort of person for whom the Entrance Exam was designed, is useless, left in his tent like Achilles, the perfect cowboy cop who peeked in highschool and didn't realize just how much paperwork and dead time his dream job actually entailed.

So that's the ACTUAL Issue with the entrance exam. It take no account for any other mean to beat the robots but brute force, it takes no account for collateral damage, or the sanctity of life of your opponents, and it tests nothing but how good at ending lives you are.

Which is a problem when you're picking future heroes.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

And sorry I just had a lot of ideas but this is last one. Anyone you want with psychologist reader. Basically they go to him as parient on theraphy and share secrets and traumas with him which basically causes to get close with them

With a psychologist reader

Angel Dust

Angel was having a bad week. Oh fuck it, he was having a bad fucking year. But he couldnt say that shit else he get a nice new shiner from dear Daddy Val.

He kept having breakdowns. Freaking out or having panic attacks when he needed to keep his shit together.

It got so bad, he actually couldn't preform, and no amount of beatings or drugs were helping anymore.

So, wanting to protect his investment, Valentino would bring him to you. You being a well known psychotherapist, helping numerous celebrities better themselves, completely turning themselves around after seeing you.

At least for a while.

So, he dumped Angel at your door, the Overlord trying to get you to essentially brainwash him to further obey him, planning to use you to keep him under control.

Of course, you shut that shit down immediately.

You told him bluntly you'd do what's necessary to help your patient, and that was Angel.

Val didn't say much, telling you simply he could find someone else, to which you told him good luck, knowing full well itd be impossible to find a therapist of your calibre who wouldnt milk him for every penny they could if thry could do their job at all, effectively calling his bluff.

You said all this in front of the Spider, the man feeling... well, it felt nice to have someone taking him seriously. Not like Val that treated him like a train dog.

Now, your first few sessions were just tredding ground, getting to know the Spider and gaining some familiarity with him. You may have stood up to Val but you'd had enough clients to know he wouldn't just open up.

So, the first few appointments you just spoke, spending time with him, asking genuine questions about him.

Not his Angel Dust persona.

Him.

Youd ask about his likes and dislikes.

You know, favourite music, the food he likes, his thoughts on the current events in Hell.

And while it would certainly take time, slowly chipping away at his mask, he'd begin opening up to you.

Of course, Valentino, the massive Cock-Head! Kept putting you back, the man being his usual abusive self. And after each of these incidents, the spider would pull in on himself, making your job even more difficult.

So, you confronted the man, telling him as much, as every smack he gave the arachnid put you back weeks! And despite his domineering personality, he'd back down, agreeing to stop the abuse.

'For now.' The moth pimp added, raising your blood pressure.

Youd make progress on the man's issues, slowly directing and fixing the many traumas and problems the man endured, the Spider visible getting better, cutting back on most of the shit he took in.

At least around you.

It'd be during one of your sessions, you having the Spider just ramble, saying whatever came to mind, letting him get anything he'd like off his chest.

And as he rambled he'd end up on a tangent on how much he hated working for Valentino and how miserable he was working for him.

It was your first major breakthrough, and well, the one you needed to finally get through.

You seized the situation, breaking him down to the bare Demonic soul, the man confessing every insecurity, spilling his heart out to you.

But then came the issue. Because put simply, Valentino was the Issue. But Angel couldn't just leave Val, that's not how the game worked.

So, you did the only thing you could.

Call in a favour.

Now, you'd helped a Looooooot of people.

Powerful people.

The Noble demon kinda powerful people.

So getting someone to help... remove Valentino from the equation wasn't that difficult.

Once he was free of that man's influence Angel really shined through.

He became more confident. More self assured.

He reduced his alcohol and narcotic consumption to a tenth of when he was with Val.

Honestly he was a whole new Angel, and you were happy to see it.

But, well, this is Angel. And even without the pressure or need to hyper sexualise himself, he'd still flirt with you.

And it'd actually be the day you finally cleared him, believing him to finally be well enough to be discharged from your service, that the spider would ask you out.

And since he was no longer your client, you said yes, the two of you going out to a quant little restaurant together.

It was a... charmingly simple night.

Neither of you said much. The usually chatty spider calm and docile as you ate, the both of you feeling everything that needed to be said... had been said.

Youd go home that night. The spiders hand in your own, as you went back to your place.

Nothing would happen between you that nigh. You were still seeing how a relationshipwould go, trying the waters as it were, so you didnt want to force anything.

Angel for his part, and for the first time, well... ever, felt safe. Understood.

And well, cared about.

The spider genuinely happy to be with you.

Stolas

Youd always been fascinated my how the mind works.

Specifically, how it handled trauma.

It fascinated you how the mind bent and melted, handling or rejecting trauma.

And if there was any group in Hell with issue, it was the Nobility.

Now, it took you a while to find a noble that was willing to pay you to help them, most nobility just expecting things presented to them on a silver platter.

But once you did get your foot in the door, helping a man with some deep seeded inferiority issues. Helping him become the egomaniac he was supposed to be.

And when it got out you could help them with their many, many, MANY issues, and do so descreetly. By God, they flocked to you.

A barrage of daddy issues, child abuse, neglect, regulat abuse and trauma the likes you hadn't thought possible.

And you got good, and rich, helping people with their issues. Learning an abundance on how personality was shaped by abuse. Picking up the patterns and soding that was left with different traumas.

Youd gotten yourself set up, each patient a virtual case study.

And it'd be as you sat in your office, looking over a patient's file, when there was a knock at the door.

Popping the files away, you called them in, coming face to face with an owl demon.

We was unexpectedly timid upon entry, walking around the subject as he asked you if you could help someone with... their issues.

That someone was clearly him.

But you could tell he was trying to be discreet, not like he was the first one, so you played along.

And after assuring him you could help him, explaining you provided a safe, descreet and judgement free service tailored for each client, that he'd agree.

The first few sessions were slow, the two of you just making generic, borderline formal chit chat, Stolas venting to you about his day or something that was erking him.

But after a few sessions, you began making progress, treading new ground. He began opening up to you about his issues. And there were quite a few.

A father that didn't give a shit about him past his utility to the Goetia family. An abusive wife he was betrothed to before he was even hatched simply to produce an heir.

And a completely dead marriage.

No.

Dead implies it was alive at some point. And based on what he had to say about it, it sounded like his spouse was beating the corpse of said "marriage".

So yeah, other than a daughter, he didn't really have anything worth living for. Which, ya know... isn't a good thing.

It took a long time really figuring out what ailed his mind.

There were many sessions that ended up with him in tears, you ending up hugging him, comforting him each time as he sobbed into your shirt.

And while you did your best to remain professional, there were more than a few occasions when you'd stare into each other's eyes for just a little too long. Followed by you awkwardly looking away, clearing your throat.

It took many session, time, care and a small fortune in fees, but you ended with the most logical conclusion.

He needed to divorce his bitch of a wife.

Stolas knew it.

You knew it.

But knowing it, and doing it were very different thing.

Of course, normally that'd be his problem.

But, well, you liked Stolas. Youd done the major no-no of running a practicr and and had gotten attached to him. So you called in some favours to ensure it'd go smoothly.

Of course you kept it all behind the scenes, setting things up so Stolas could escape with a minimal amount of drama.

And so, with a little encouraging from you, as a friend, not his therapist. He'd do it.

He'd tell her they were done and he was sick of her.

Of course the fallout was... not that bad. At least compared to our timeline, especially since Stolas had measures prepared before he did it.

He arrived the next day, you asking him how he felt, Stolas telling you he felt... Free.

Things would be difficult, but for the first time, he felt free.

You'd talk some more, monitoring his progress and development, ensuring he didn't fall back on any of his inhealthy coping mechanisms. And once the time had run out, he'd ask if there were anymore sessions.

Youd smile, telling him, well, no.

He'd resolved his problem, and well, he was done. No more sessions really needed.

To which Stolas would ask if that means if he were no longer your patient.

You confirming it, telling him you were no longer doctor and patient.

Hed nod, before leaning over, grabbing you by the collar just to slam his mouth into yours, the man forcefully kissing you.

The kiss lasted several moments before he pulled back, the man stuffing a note into your pocket, telling you.

"I'll be picking you up at 7. Dress sharp."

And then he'd leave.

Leaving you bewildered and, well, slightly aroused. Sat there thinking one thing.

"Well... what am I gonna wear?"

Valentino

Val wasn't weak.

He didn't need help, or to rely on anyone.

He earned everything he had through cunning and brutality, and would be damned if he needed some shitty head doctor to 'fix' his 'condition.'

But every day, he was filled with the killer of empires.

Doubt.

And doubt led to fear.

And fear led to the dark side.

Was he making the right move? Should he have killed that last guy? Was there a better way of doing that?

It was getting on his nerve and he was sick of it!

So, he found the best, most discreet, psychologist money could buy.

And that's how he found himself walking into your office.

He of course was his ever domineering self, trying to tell you how this would work.

To which you'd listen until he was finished, and once you were sure he'd finished his rant, you tell him simply how it would actually be.

Youd work through at his pace, but doing what you'd say and when. In that room Valentino held no power, but you also held no wish to control him.

You were his patient, and so, you would do your job.

You would help him.

Things went slow at first, Valentino still demanding to be in control, and so you'd have to slowly ease him into it.

You were firm, but not confrontational, letting him feel in control, while trying to figure out just why he needed to feel in control.

Though it was pretty clear, he was an overlord. He had to be in control else he'd loose... everything.

But really, he was just running on survival mode 24/7, and simply put, the mind couldn't handle being on edge every second of every day.

It took a long, long time to get that through to him, but really, it was a simple answer.

He'd reverted back into a Darwinian philosophy. And while many can like relatively normal lives with such a philosophy, he'd actually conditioned himself to abide by such rules, to the point his body physically reacted to every change in his environment. The man constantly stressed and unable to sleep, the drugs only able to keep things on the level for so long.

It'd take a long time to get to this conclusion, and an even longer to start unwinding it.

A lot of explaining and reconditioning, slowly unwinding the trauma he had to endured and inflicted on himself, sure enough, over time, he'd start relaxing.

He was still on edge, but he was slowly learning to take breaks, usually somewhere safe where he could be alone.

The man starting to understand, and rework himself into a more level headed existence.

It was strange for the man.

He'd spent hours rambling at you, answering hundreds of stupid questions, working through a shit load of nitty gritty bullshit he'd never think about.

But, sure enough, one day you asked him a question, and well, he answered.

Honestly.

He gave a genuine, true blue answer. And he could answer without spending 30 minutes figuring out if it was a trick, nor did he give some vague answer to hide the truth.

It felt weird, being honest with someone, and, well, it felt good.

He could be real with someone. No lies No tough guy persona. No alpha bullshit.

Just him.

And well, he couldn't deny, having a connection like that was... amazing.

And so, well naturally, he found himself growing affection for you. The first person he could be real with.

He'd initially disguise his feeling as simply working through any other issue he might have had, the man paying you top dollar to spend even more time with you.

But eventually he'd get sick of making up reasons to be around you.

So he was honest.

Again, a rare act on his part.

But he went all out, telling you he wanted you. He wanted the commitment, a genuine relationship, not just him using his partner for his own gain like every other connection he had.

Youd be hesitant, but after an especially genuine moment with him, you'd agree to a date.

A REAL date. With the real him.

And yeah, everything inside him told him to go all out, utilising his usual power and prestige.

But not this night.

That night you just had a simple dinner, followed the both of you sharing a bottle of wine, bonding on the couch.

And no, you didn't fall into his arms like averyone else did.

And,he loved that.

With you he was honest and genuine, and well, he loved that he could be that way, the two of you having a bond he could never have with anybody else in Hell.

And yeah he had to hide that bond from most anybody else, when in private he still got to enjoy it, the man having something to fight for more than just a never ending thurst for power.

Loona

Honestly, she'd first seen you as a gag.

She'd gotten a coupon for a free session in some magazine Blitz had snatched from Stolas.

And after she'd stormed out of the office with said magazine, the girl reading through it, finding your coupon.

So, ripping it out, she figured it was a good way to waste an hour, tormenting some stuffy head quack.

And so, finding your office, she'd strut in, showing the coupon. And since you had nothing better to do, you'd agree to see her.

At first you'd play along with what she was clearly expecting, asking the usual questions.

And yeah, Loona fucked around, acting like a little shit.

But after a while you'd get into some real shit. Asking about her home life, and those directly around her.

She'd whine and complain, giving a biased retelling, events through from her perspective.

But you could see through it, asking her harder and harder questions, the girl eventually snapping at you.

Only for you to snap back.

You told her her feelings were real and valid, but she needed to accept that she wasn't always the victim and sometimes problems were her own fault.

Loona, as whenever she was challenged with something she didn't like and couldn't kick the shit out of.

She bolted.

Despite dropping you, she couldn't get over the damn harsh truth bombs you'd dropped on her.

So, convincing Blitz to get more of the magazines, she'd cut out the coupons, taking them to you to talk.

She'd confront you, and while initially hostile, the two of you would actually have some meaningful dialogue, Loona having to face some harsh truths. But you also helped her face some problems with others, particularly her relationship with her father.

She'd keep scaving magazines off of Blitz, the two of you chatting almost every day, you providing some much needed outlet for many, many confusing emotions for the teen.

And it'd be after bumping into each other at a coffee shop that you'd actually chat.

Not just dig up loonas many issue, but just talking, like two normal people.

She was a surprisingly chill young lady when not having to think about her many flaws and problems. But you were just happy to chat, it being rare you got to speak with someone outside the office. And we'll, Loona certainly lived an interesting life.

The girl would use a dozen more coupons, spending most days in your office, you often scheduling appointments in accordance, each session steadily getting through her swamp off issues.

But you'd also meet up at that coffee shop, the two of you bonding outside the sessions, chatting away like regular people.

And honestly, the two of you getting increasingly close, and look, you were a professional, but after a particularly fiery session, the two of you going at each other, that you'd, well, youd kiss.

The strange development between the two of you seemingly finally coming to ahead.

And it'd be a Hell of a kiss, the two of you becoming ravenous, things quickly getting out of hand. And undressed.

After that things would be... awkward. Very awkward.

Naturally.

But, after some discussion you'd decide to keep your sessions and whatever was happening between you aside, Loona admittedly feeling like the sessions were working.

And now that you were technically seeing each other on the side, she'd finally have someone she could build a healthy relationship with.

Of course you had to be careful she didn't become too emotionally relient on you, not wanting her to develope unhealthy reliance on you, while also being a caring S/O for the girl, using your expertise to help develop healthier outlets for her anger and frustration.

The two of you would take things slow and steady, you and Loona developing a meaningful relationship, one the both of you would adore, coming to truly love each other.

Though you'd gotten the Silent treatment more then once when you brought up an issue she had during an argument.

Hey everybody.

I haven't forgotten about you I swear, just been doing my own life, trying to get my house together. But I remember and still love you guys.

I'll try and post more than I have, but no promises.

Love y'all!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for how I’ve treated this friend? 🩳🦧 <- for finding later

I have a friend who I got extremely close to over a period of about six months. They are mentally ill and desperately needed someone to look after and care about them. I happened to be elected to do that role. In the beginning I was lax on boundaries, basically doing whatever they wanted to because I believed they would hurt or kill themselves if I wasn’t available all the time. I lost sleep, I constantly worried, and put aside my own needs to help them. During this time they called me an amazing person, said they’d never had someone like me in their life before and I became their favourite person. Everything I did they did and they would constantly want to meet up and hang out. I agreed to all of this because I was in a situation where I had pretty good friends but never had a relationship with someone like this before and I believed that we could have something more than friendship. I entered into a relationship with them and quickly realised that it would not work out. After we broke up we remained friends but I lost the already barely there trust I had in them and I don’t think I will ever trust them again.

After realising what a toll this was taking on me I reduced my responsibilities a lot and put in boundaries. The friend broke these boundaries a few times and I forgave them. They’ve basically stopped relying on me for a lot of things now.

But recently I’ve been really angry at them for how they treated me when they were in that state and really they have essentially traumatised me from that experience, making me feel unsafe and on edge when they are around. Because of this I am mildly ghosting them, getting very angry at them because of things they do or say while we’re together (not yelling or anything, mostly being passive agressive) everytime we meet, being rude and unresponsive. They’ve told me these behaviours are not helpful and have put up boundaries that mostly don’t relate to what I’ve been doing and make me feel like I’ve done something wrong.

Am I the asshole for acting like I have towards this friend?

What are these acronyms?

[bonefall]

Bones, you have like the ghibli effect when it comes to food. You describe food in such a way I want to cook and consume anything. I want to be a little kitty cat filleting a squirrel and roasting it and picking out the bones for stew.

You’re just so passionate about food I’m like. I just go make turkey stock AT ONCE.

Did you know that squirrel stew used to be a "classic American dish"? It's the most popular favorite food of American presidents. They call it Brunswick Stew

They say the meat of squirrel is so tender it falls apart in your hands, once you braise it. I was even looking at how hunters process them, from dispatch to debone, and I found out that they're also SUPER easy to take apart because they store a lot of their fat on the INSIDE. Barely any separation of all the materials once you reduce a squirrel to its bare essentials.

The secret is that I'm always hungry, man. I love eating food. I love making food. I had a pupusa for the first time the other day from a bakery, and it was fresh out of the oven and I nearly cried. I write about food the way it makes me feel, which is VERY good.

[mochegato]

Scarlet Polka Dot Bikini

Marinette poked her head around the changing room wall, cursing Alya for forcing her to wear these scraps of fabric that barely counted as a swimsuit.  Starfire might call it conservative, but it was more risqué than anything Marinette had ever worn in public before.  And, yes, Marinette knew it was her own fault for making the bet in the first place, but this was unnecessarily cruel, because now here she was in a triangle string red polka dot bikini, and not just any triangle string red polka dot bikini, an itsy bitsy teenie weenie scarlet polka dot bikini in front of all of her friends.

Well, some of her friends.  The friends with the most killer bodies.  Her superhero friends who all had washboard abs and defined pectorals or perky breasts.  And she was supposed to prance around the beach with essentially nothing on.  Not a single one of them would say anything negative, she knew that.  Hell, she could almost guarantee they would all say something encouraging.  But that fact only slightly reduced her mortification.

“Marinette!  I saw you!” Alya called.  She stormed toward the changing room.  “Get your pert, little butt out here.  You can’t hide all day.”

Marinette glared at her.  “I bet I could,” she huffed.

“Marinette,” Alya sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “just come out here, girl.  It’ll be fine.”

“It would be better if I had a little more…” she motioned toward her body as she tried to figure out the right word, “more, on.”

“You just need to get over your self-consciousness.  You look hot, girl!  And the rest of these idiots need to respect.  Hell, I might consider switching sides for you!” she cheered.  “Now come on, you’re missing all the fun.”

Marinette grumbled but obliged, taking her first timid steps past the wall only to immediately be met with Alya’s exasperated sigh.  “Really?”  Alya’s voice was as flat as a board but still dripped with incredulity at the large towel Marinette had draped over her body.  “Marinette.  Girl.  My Bestest Bestie.  My most annoying sister…”

“Hey!” Marinette objected.  “There’s no way I’m more annoying than Ella and Etta after they went to that concert and had caffeine for the first time.”

Alya raised an unimpressed eyebrow.  “Yes, congratulations, they were annoying once…”

“Once,” Marinette scoffed.

“… you’re annoying all the time,” Alya finished.  She motioned pointedly to Marinette’s body.  “You need to have more confidence, Mari!  It doesn’t even matter what your body looks like.  You need to have confidence in yourself.  You’re sexy.  Even in that towel, you’re sexy.  You’re sexy because you’re you.  Now, drop that stupidly fluffy, massive towel, and come have fun!  We were just about to play chicken.  How about it?  Me and Nino, you and…” she scanned the beach, “Wally!”

Marinette’s eyes widened.  “No!  I am not playing chicken in this.  It’s one strong wave away from washing away.”  Alya smirked and waggled her eyebrows.  “No!  No.”  Marinette let her arm escape her towel cocoon to point warningly at Alya.

“Well, that would be one way to get Jason’s attention,” Alya laughed.

“Alya!” Marinette gasped.  She jumped at Alya to cover her mouth, scanning the area for anyone who might have heard.  The towel almost dropped in the process and would have if she hadn’t backed off of Alya at the last second, valuing her modesty more than silencing Alya… for the moment.  “Someone could have heard you,” she hissed with a slap to Alya’s shoulder.  “And that is not how I want to get his attention.”

The sheer idiocy of the statement caused Alya to roll her eyes harder than she had ever rolled them before.  As though Marinette didn’t have his attention already.  As though Jason didn’t gravitate to her in every interaction.  As though Jason didn’t get even more hostile whenever Marinette volunteered for a particularly dangerous mission.  As though he didn’t start growling at anyone who indicated they might hit on her.

“Marinette, sweetheart, I didn’t want to have to do this but, by the… Look out!” Alya yelled as she dove out of the way.

Marinette whipped around to see a volleyball hurtling toward her.  There was no dodging it.  She had a split second to choose whether to just let it hit her or drop the towel.  She almost chose to let it hit her but gave in at the last second and released her strangle hold on the towel to hit the ball at just the right angle to have it bounce up and fall back to her much more gently.

Jason and Roy jogged up to her, Roy sporting a brilliant grin.  Jason followed a few paces behind him at a much more subdued pace, staring intently at Marinette.  Marinette almost lost the ability to breathe.  The sun kissed his body and hair, making him look like he was a dark-haired Apollo… until he tripped over a slight lift in the sand and had to cartwheel his hands to keep from falling face first.  He took a second to steady himself before shooting up straight, dusting himself off, and continuing his path as though nothing had happened.

Marinette reached for him but pulled her hand back at the last second and instead used it to secure the ball in front of her now exposed stomach.  She smiled awkwardly at Roy and Jason as they approached, but with each step closer, she hunched her shoulders and bent one of her knees, trying subconsciously to make herself into a ball that could be entirely hidden by the volleyball. 

“Looking good,” Roy complimented with a wink.  He held his hand out for the ball, but Marinette clutched it closer to her, her knuckles almost turning white with the force, which he pretended not to notice.  He turned toward the rest of the group instead and motioned toward them.  “You’re welcome to take the next game once we finish crushing Dick and Adrien, or you can get in on Wally’s frisbee game he’s playing with himself, or Tim, Steph, and Kon are playing in the water.”  He suddenly turned to her with a very serious look and leaned closer.  “Do not play any games in the water with Garth.  He cheats and doesn’t even realize it.”

Jason clocked Roy on the back of the head, feeling a bit better after getting it out.  “Stop scaring her, dumbass.  You’re being a creep.”  He smiled at Marinette, struggling to make it seem as easygoing as possible.  It seemed to have worked because while she didn’t let go of the ball, she did ease her death grip on it.  “Glad you could make it, Pixie.  Come cheer me and Roy on when you’re ready.  Dick and Adrien have Nino and Alya, which gives them a bit of an unfair advantage.”

Roy shot a knowing look at Alya, both fighting a snort at their oblivious idiots.  “Yeah, that’s why,” Roy muttered.

“Okay, honey,” Alya cut in with more than a hint of patronization, “let’s return their ball.”  She grunted as she wrested it from Marinette’s hands and tossed it to them with only a weak whimper from Marinette, who jumped behind Alya as soon as her shield was removed.  “We’ll be over in a few minutes,” she assured them.

Alya and Marinette watched them walk away, Marinette staring undisguisedly at Jason’s behind as it flexed under his trunks with each step.  She waited until they were at the court before smacking Alya’s shoulder.  “This is terrible!  He’s walking around looking like,” she motioned toward Jason with a groan and threw her head back in frustration.

“Yeah,” Alya answered.  “And you’re looking like,” she motioned toward Marinette.  “Perfect match.  Now come on.  Cheer for your man.”

“He’s not my man,” Marinette grumbled, but let Alya drag her.

“Yet,” Alya corrected, her eyebrows waggling yet again.  Marinette was starting to hate that waggle.

Marinette took a seat in the sand near the court, or what she thought were the bounds of the court.  She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.  It was far too hot to be balled up like she was and completely negated sunning herself, but even sweating like she was, she was more comfortable than she would be if she were showing off her swimsuit.

She and Alya cheered the players on for several rounds, laughing and joking with the players, just about everyone joining them at some point to choose sides and cheer.  Marinette relaxed a bit but kept her legs firmly set in front of her chest, until she couldn’t take it any longer.  She was too hot.  The sweat had worked into every crevasse, most of which also got sand into them, making even sitting still extremely uncomfortable, and she was sure she looked like a hot mess at this point.

She waited until people seemed distracted by some story Stephanie was telling and anxiously stood up.  She checked that nobody was looking and jogged to the surf, her arms crossed in front of her chest until she’d passed almost everyone, then moving to hang loosely behind her to shield her behind until she hit the water.  Her focus remained on the water as she moved, her sanctuary, her armor, missing the ball striking the sand mere inches from Jason, who’s focus was also on the water, or more precisely, the woman wading into the water, her bikini getting soaked as she moved.

Roy picked up the ball with an exasperated huff and lightly bounced it off of Jason’s head.  “Hey!  Head in the game.”

“Right,” Jason agreed instantly.  He shook his head and nodded to Roy as he got back into position.  His eyes darted back over to Marinette but snapped to Dick when he heard the slap of his serve.  He managed to keep his focus on the game with only the occasional glance toward Marinette until a massive wave came in and drew the water away from Marinette as the water surged to fill back up.

The movement left him with a clear view of Marinette, sopping wet in her itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie scarlet polka dot bikini clinging to every curve, and he thought he might not be able to breathe any longer.  He continued to stare, mouth agape, completely unaware of anything else around him, until his focus was jarred by a ball smacking him in the side of his head.  He blinked in the direction the ball came from but instantly returned his focus to Marinette.

“Come on,” Roy groaned, “what the Hell, man?”

Jason didn’t bother to look away from the water to acknowledge him.  “Think it’s time for a dip,” he said blankly.  “You guys continue without me.”

“Continue without… It’s two on two!” Roy yelled after him.  He turned back to Dick and Adrien with an exasperated huff.  “I know I asked for him to get off his ass and actually go for her, but this is not what I meant.”

“Yes, it was,” Adrien snarked.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed reluctantly.  “Wally, stop playing with yourself and get over here.  You’re on my team now!”

“You’re going to turn blue if you stay here much longer,” Jason teased, easily wading closer, the water that covered Marinette up to her shoulders only coming to mid chest on him.  Even through the water, he could see her covering her chest with her arms crossed across her chest.  He furrowed his brow at her reticence.

He had been more than happy about her walking around in her swimsuit, well, no, he hadn’t been thrilled with everyone checking her out throughout the day, but he was okay with it because she was fine with it, and if she felt good who cared what anyone else thought.  It was clear now that she wasn’t.  Even after a few hours, she wasn’t comfortable in the swimsuit.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked casually, looking off into the distance, squinting at the sun shining in his eyes.  “We can go get food or something, which would of course require getting dressed…” he let the sentence trail off, the picture of innocence.

Marinette blinked at him, timid hope appearing in her eyes.  Her eyes darted to the beach, the people wandering around between them and the car, and back.  “I don’t know.  I might… wait,” she said uncertainly.  “You know, until everyone is distracted.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach.  “Nah.  I’m hungry now.  Give me just a second.  Wait right here.”  Marinette snorted.  As if she was going to go anywhere.  Jason dashed out of the water and across the sand to his bike.  She could see him rummaging around and grabbing something out of a compartment.  He then made his way over to Roy, whispering something in his ear and making a sharp movement with his arm, before moving back to Marinette.

He shot her a confident grin and motioned toward the beach.  “Okay, Pixie, let’s go.”

Marinette’s eyes widened.  “No!  I’m not… They aren’t…”  Her sentence got cut off by a small explosion on the beach just beyond where everyone was playing.

“I saw two people over there!” Roy yelled at the top of his lungs.  He pointed toward the other side of the beach from Jason and Marinette and charged, the others following him significantly more cautiously.

“That’s my boy,” Jason grinned.  He urged Marinette out of the water and across the sand to the changing rooms.

“Jason,” she exclaimed.  “We have to…” she froze and stared at him incredulously as realization hit him.  “I know I asked you for a distraction, but that was not what I had in mind.”

“I know, genius, right?” he grinned, pulling her behind him until they reached his bike.

“That was not what…”

“Did you want to change before we leave or after?  I can let you borrow my shirt if you want to wait.”  He held out his shirt to Marinette, but his grin morphed into a smirk after a second.  “Honestly might be safer if you go without the shirt though.”

Marinette’s hand, which was just centimeters from his shirt froze, it dropped to her side as her head cocked to the side.  “Oh?  Why’s that?” she asked innocently.

He took a breath to fortify himself and stepped closer to Marinette.  “Because, if I have you in my shirt hanging on to me while I’m driving, I’m going to have a lot of trouble watching the road,” he admitted quietly.

Marinette’s lips split into a brilliant grin.  This was the first time Jason had given a definitive sign of interest.  There had been signs before but they always could be written off as innocent.  This was the first time, there was no way it could be innocent.  “Me in a shirt would be more distracting than me in this itsy bitsy teenie weenie scarlet polka dot bikini?”  Her voice had changed from the innocent tones a few moments ago to something more sultry and it was setting Jason’s body on fire.

“You’re distracting either way,” Jason corrected.  “But knowing you’re in my shirt?  Holding tight to me?  With just that underneath?”  He let out a long breath and shook his head.  “I’ll be honest we’ll be lucky if we don’t crash.”

Marinette giggled and looked him over slowly.  She closed the distance until her chest was almost brushing his, close enough that if he inhaled deeply, they would touch, and looked up at him from under her lashes.  “Just keep your eyes on the road and remember if you crash, you won’t get to kiss me tonight.”

A growl sounded deep in Jason’s chest as he wrapped his shirt around her shoulders.  “That is a very compelling argument.  No crashing, but food and kissing later.”

Marinette nodded, her eyes finally glinting with the happiness he was used to seeing in her eyes.  “Glad you agree.  But maybe…”  She cut off when they heard their friends start yelling.  They met each other’s eyes in mutual understanding, both jumping onto the bike at the same moment.  Marinette shoved her arms through the sleeves and wrapped them around his toned waist, barely able to contain the groan at the feeling of her arms on his bare skin.  Her ocean-chilled skin heated up instantly where they touched like a fire flooding her system.

She had to admit, she might never wear this bikini in public again.  But maybe, just maybe, if she would get the same results, she’d be willing to give Jason a private showing.

@maribatserver

[helioselene]

HOW TO: WRITEBLR;

so youve migrated from writing twt to writeblr -> what now?

the following is my masterpost on the ins and outs of navigating the writeblr landscape! while it can be scary to deep-dive into the world of writing on tumblr for the first time, there are a few actions you can take to make it a lot easier to interact and share your writing.

psa: this is neither an extensive nor complete list of writeblr tips! but i hope it can help :)

INTERACTION;

interacting with others is one of the most important aspects of writeblr. im going to be splitting this section into a number of sub-sections because there are several topics relevant to creating a system of communication with other writers on here.

likes and reblogs; unlike twitter or other social media sites, likes do not hold the same weight on tumblr. as well as liking a post, the most important step you can take is to REBLOG. reblogging will share a post to your blog and thus your feed. in doing this, your followers and anyone who checks out your blog are going to see the post, rather than if you just like or comment. reblogging allows more people to interact with a post. content creators (including writers) can be motivated to continue posting when their posts are reblogged because it shows there are enough people interested in their works. the same goes for you! the more you reblog other people's works, the more likely your own posts will be reblogged, thus gaining more traction for all your hard-earned efforts.

taglists; you might be asking: what is a taglist? a taglist is usually featured at the bottom of your post when you share your writing. it includes people who have shown interest in your works - all you do is simply @ them. it means that people who are keen won't miss out on seeing the things you post about your wips! it is essentially an opt-in type deal, where people can choose to be added or removed from being notified about updates, excerpts, and the like.

don't abuse your taglist. don't tag them for every little thing you post about your wips - try to keep it to major posts like excerpts or new art, etc.

**** A HANDY HINT: writeblr etiquette states that you should never just add people to your taglist. only add them if they specifically ask.

tumblr tagging system; the tumblr tagging system is going to be your best friend as a writer. tags allow you to manage your posts + can act as a navigation system for your blog.

when tagging, make sure to not replace characters if it's for a trigger warning. 'assault', for example, should never be replaced with '@ssault'.

if posting an excerpt from your wip, i would suggest the following tags as the bare minimum: 'WIP NAME', 'WIP NAME EXCERPT'. if you're posting it as part of an event, you may also wish to include 'EVENT NAME'. you can also have a specific tag for things your friends write, for resources you may find helpful, etc. the possibilities are endless. a hint: the first five tags are the only tracked tags. the most important tags you want to add should be your FIRST FIVE TAGS on a post. furthermore, only the first twenty will show up in the search function.

tags are a good way for you to interact with other writers! when you reblog a post, OP will be able to read your tags where you can add how much you loved their work, etc.

POST FORMATTING;

do; - add trigger warnings to your posts if they contain sensitive topics. - add a plot, characters, etc. other writeblrs want context for your wip beyond just a number of dot points about tropes. - put your post under a 'read more' if it is a long post. - tag any nsfw content. - add a transcript of any photos/images under a 'read more'.

don't; - use any sort of fonts beyond the regular when writing a general post. using the 'chat' font, for example, reduces accessibility to your posts and makes it difficult for people to read. - just post dot points of your wip. - plagiarise. - use other people's posts as a place to self promote.

PINTEREST IS NOT AN ART SOURCE;

this is one of the biggest differences between tumblr and other social media sites: pinterest is. not. an. art. source. the truth is that people aren't going to care if you post a moodboard with nothing beyond a few random photos of a castle and a knife, etc. sure, they may look pretty, but don't do it for a number of reasons.

first, you should always post art directly from a credited source (e.g. unsplash or picrew).

second, it doesn't show enough about your wip! people want context! not just random photos!

thirdly, most photos or art on pinterest do not CREDIT their sources. this is theft and this is bad. which leads me onto the next topic.

CREDIT YOUR ARTISTS;

CREDIT ALL ARTISTS. if you use any sort of artwork, i swear to all things holy, give credit to the ORIGINAL sources. pinterest, as mentioned, is not an art source. most artwork on that site is stolen or posted without credit, which, funnily enough, is a form of theft. if you're going to post any form of photo or art, please give credit. it doesn't matter what form it takes; link to the original artist or photographer in a way that is not hidden.

MOODBOARDS AND GRAPHICS, OH MY;

one sad truth about being on tumblr, as with a lot of social media sites, is that your posts will gain a lot more interaction if you use some form of graphic or photo along with your writing. graphic making may seem daunting but it doesn't have to be! they don't have to be complicated or anything more than a few photos - as long as they have relevance to your wip. moodboards are not necessarily a bad form to take when making graphics for your posts. however, if it just features a random collection of photos that tell your audience nothing about your work, they're not going to care. writeblr is all about actually imparting information about your wips, rather than just vibes. ****as mentioned, any form of artwork or photography needs to be credited to the original source. however, etiquette is also to not repost art without express permission from the artist. if you don't have permission to use someone's art, DO NOT put it in your moodboard or graphic.

BLOG AND BLOG THEMES;

tumblr is a really great site for expressing yourself through your blog, especially if you use custom themes! if (like me) you're terrible at javascript and any form of http coding, there are a number of blogs you can search for to find custom made themes that are easily adaptable for your needs.

but why use a theme beyond expression?

one of the best aspects of using themes is the navigation aspect. most writeblrs have some form of navigation page (beyond just simply using the tumblr tagging system) to allow their audience to find information about their wips, writing resources, and the like! it makes going through your blog easier for both you and others.

also: make sure to include information about yourself on the blog (but of course, not to the point of doxxing yourself). most tumblr users, especially those on writeblr, will think you're most likely a bot if you dont include at least some things about yourself. the most common things to add are name, age and pronouns! also a dni can be used.

WRITING TIPS AND TRICKS;

titling your wips by @crtalley

plot structure by @nouveauweird

how to blurb by @yvesdot

notion templates for writers by @atelierwriting

the tropes guide by yours truly

so you're missing a plot by @seasteading

novel length by @serpentarii

thank you to everyone who helped me in writing this post! love you all <3

[dairy-farmer]

Obsessed with the concept of Bruce using Tim/access to Tim as a reward and/or incentive, and Tim mostly liking it but having some mixed feelings. (Inspired by the cold hands ask)

Of the boys wanting to fuck Tim or have Tim blow them or eat Tim out that badly. Of Bruce not letting them until they get a good bust or go a month without killing or behave at a gala or go a month without a teacher calling to complain about antagonistic behavior. Of Bruce letting them have their way with Timmy until they fuck up badly enough he takes Tim away because anything else he’s tried to control their behavior doesn’t work.

And Tim…well he doesn’t mind it, mostly. He likes sex. He’s not like, a sex addict or anything, but he likes sex and he likes his brothers. He can admit that he still has some self esteem issues and he loves that his brothers want him badly enough that they’ll play nice with Bruce. He’s never wanted anything more than to feel wanted and the boys definitely act like they want him.

He just wishes it didn’t feel so transactional. It’s not all the time and it’s not like it’s one sided or he’s not getting anything out of it. He loves sex and giving blow jobs and making people feel good. He gets to orgasm too. It’s just.

Dick likes drawing it out, seeing how many times he can get Tim to come until he’s oversensitive and sore and weak and shaky and it’s too much before Dick finally comes. Jason also enjoys drawing it out, bringing Tim to the edge but denying him release, over and over and over until Tim is reduced to tears and can barely even beg. Damian, at least, doesn’t tease, but he’s still young and impatient and he can be ready to go again before the sweat even dries and that’s fine because Tim doesn’t always manage to finish the first time anyway, but he’ll go again and again and again before he’s spent.

And it’s not always like that but. It’s often enough. And between that and the boys having to behave before Bruce will even let them fuck him in the first place, it just. It just sometimes feels like a competition. Between each other, or themselves. Like it’s not really about Tim at all. Like it’s just a point of pride, who got to fuck him this week, how many times someone got him this month, weirdest place to get a blowjob, how many times can they get him to beg. Like they’re trying to beat a high score.

He knows it’s not like that, that it’s just in his head and his poor self esteem. Whenever he tries bringing this up to Bruce, he tells Tim he’s wrong, that it’s not like that, that his brothers really care about him and it’s the best way he can manage them and Tim can see that Bruce is right, that it works. And whenever it comes up Bruce always makes sure that Tim is still okay with it, that if Tim really doesn’t want to keep letting his brothers fuck him that Bruce is sure that he can work something out, but Tim always backs down, insists that no, he’s fine, he’s just over thinking it again.

And the way Bruce’s eyes get dark and his voice gets all low as he tells Tim what a good boy he is, that he’s so glad that Tim is willing to help him, before putting Tim’s legs over his shoulders and sealing his mouth over Tim’s cunt ease most of Tim’s concerns. It’s worth it, he thinks, even if occasionally he thinks he feels more like a goal than a person.

!!!!!! this is so good! tim feeling iffy about the transactional nature of it, of the idea that he's only wanted because he can be taken away or withheld from his brothers. and bruce!!! he would absolutely LOVE knowing he can use tim as a bargaining chip, that he's essentially a possession that ultimately belongs to him and that he has a way to punish his children in a way that gets them to actually fall in line. the threat of losing tim's pussy actually gets his kids to behave and so of course bruce 'control issues' wayne has a very strong attraction to the idea of holding the leashes to all these yappy, horny little dogs that are constantly trying to mate with the sweet chihuahua in his lap that is tim.

and tim! stuck between the fact that he DOES like fucking his brothers, does like touching them and being touched in turn but not being able to do it freely or when he wants- its restricted and restrained to him as much as them so even though he might want to fuck damian one day, it's dick who's being rewarded and even though tim doesn't say 'no'...he still feels a little...weird about it.

[deramin2]

Charts For Assessing Pain And Fatigue

As a person with chronic pain and chronic fatigue, I often find it helpful to use scales to communicate how I'm doing, both for myself to contextualize it and so others have an idea how I'm doing. It's especially helpful for doctors who take you more seriously when you have data.

But I'm really bad at just assessing it in my head, especially consistently. Internalized ableism means I always feel like I'm just being a wimp and I really minimize my pain. So assessment scales that make me look at my behaviors really help break me out of that and be more honest. They also keep me more consistent so the days is more useable.

Both scales in a spreadsheet

Pain Scale

This scale was given to me in a hospital with no indication of where it came from in a really basic badly formatted table. This is my cleaned up version formatted to be saved on a phone or printed.

0 - No Pain - Pain free

2 - Minimal - Pain is barely noticeable; tightness

3 - Mild - Feel a low level of pain entering awareness only when my attention is devoted to it

4 - Uncomfortable - Pain is troubling but can be ignored most of the time; am able to continue activities

5 - Moderate - Moderate pain but no break in activity or concentration; guarded movement patterns

6 - Distracting - Pain is troubling and breaks through concentration but is tolerable; activity level changes.

7 - Distressing - Pain is intense and preoccupies my thinking; can complete tasks but it is difficult and must cease some demanding activities; considering pain medication or other pain reducing agent.

8 - Intense - Severe pain that makes concentration difficult; can do only non-demanding activities; taking pain medication, etc. Can't carry on a conversation well, pacing , etc.

9 - Severe - Cannot concentrate on anything else; sweating, unsteady breathing, can do almost nothing. Can barely talk.

10 - Immobilizing - Excruciating pain, constant; unable to move.

Fatigue Scale

This was floating around Tumblr in the colorful version. I can't print it, I can't read it with the colors when I'm tired, and I wanted the scales to normalized going the same direction so here's my formatting version:

0 - Not tired at all.

1 - Slightly tired, but still able to carry on as normal with little to no difficulty.

2 - Finding everything more effort than usual, but still able to carry on.

3 - Tiredness makes it hard to enjoy activities that are usually fun, but still able to work or study (with some difficulty).

4 - Possibly able to do some work or studying, depending on how much effort it takes. May choose to work or study from home. Avoiding activities that take a lot of energy.

5 - Mostly unable to work or study (except low effort tasks that can be done from home) can go out (for example to buy food) but only if essential.

6 - Too tired to go out, but still able to move around the house and do activities that require little energy and focus. Preparing a meal is difficult. Can't work or study.

7 - Doesn't need to lie down and can walk around the house, but can't stand for more than a few minutes without resting. Finding it hard to eat some foods. Can't focus on anything easily.

8 - Able to sit up for a while and walk around the house if absolutely necessary. Unable to eat most food. Holding a conversation is difficult.

9 - Able to sit up for a short time and can walk short distances (with difficulty), e.g. to get a drink or go to the toilet. Can't eat.

10 - Can barely sit up. Needs assistance getting out of bed.

Sources

I don't know where either of these came from originally or who to credit, but I'd like to. (Normally I wouldn't repost people's work but the public benefit here outweighs those concerns for me.) Please reblog if you do and I'll edit it in. I just want them available to more disabled people.