#(though it is decreasing in frequency)

[hextech-workaholic]

Somehow I am not convinced I am not being watched, now.

I am not...spreading myself thin trying to pick up any slack, though. Please do not worry so much, Jayce. This is...exaggeration. I go home often enough.

Have you noticed if Viktor's sleeping in the lab more often than he used to? I feel like I don't see him leave the lab much. Not that I'm like...watching your partner leave that would be weird.

I’m kind of ashamed to admit I haven’t noticed, no. I’ve been spending more and more time with different Council obligations, and on trying to secure sponsors and partners to get ready for our next few initiatives…I’d hope Viktor’s not spreading himself thin trying to pick up my slack.

I’ll…check on him. Thanks for the nudge.

[fishnapple]

Use your 3rd house & Mercury for manifestation

Finding your own manifestation method that gives consistent results, at a consistent frequency is peak life magic for me.

My manifestation method is called "Written coloured words on calendar". I have a theory that since Mercury is associated with The Magician in Tarot, it has something to do with manifesting, especially by using verbal or written words. Mercury will help manifesting the themes of the house that it rules. While the energy of the planet that rules your 3rd house will be the tool to communicate and express your messages.

Do give it a try and tell me if it's effective for you too. If you have your own manifestation method, feel free to spread the magic.

1. What you need

Coloured pens (the colour of the ink of the pen or the lead if you are using pencils, not the colour of the case)

A calendar that has space to write on (other things like a piece of paper or notebook don't work)

Basic astrology knowledge & your chart: you should know what planet rules your 3rd house and what house does Mercury rule in your chart

2. How I do it

The colour: Choose the pen with the colour that matches the colour associated with the planet that rules your 3rd house.

The phrase: I write "I want/need change" with that coloured pen around the space of the present day on the calendar. The phrase should be short, with a broad meaning, conveys the matters related to the house that Mercury rules in your chart. Don't be too specific like I want a red dress or I want 100$, start with general terms like asking for changes, surprises, chances, opportunities, helps, guidance.

Timing: the manifestation will happen within the next week, without fail, this is how it worked for me, the speed might depend on the planet that rules your 3rd house.

Example of how it works: I have Mercury rules my 3rd house & 6th house so it can be straightforward, whenever I wrote "I want change" with green (colour of Mercury) pen on the calendar, within the next week, a new business partnership/offer & more works (3rd & 6th house matters) appeared, I met someone new who would have Gemini or Virgo or both placements in their chart, who I would do business with, work with, travel with or became my friend (3rd & 6th house matters).

*Notes:

So you won't be able to manifest other things related to different houses & planets other than 3rd house and Mercury? → Most likely, I've tried with different houses & planets but it usually had short-term effect or no observable effect, while 3rd house and Mercury gave more long-term effects.

Each manifestation works only once, if you want it to happen again, you will need to write again.

3. Colours associated with each planet & their effect

Here is the list of effects I have observed through the years practising this. It can change depending on your chart though, try to experiment with each one yourself.

Yellow - Sun: Joyful events

Grey - Moon: No observable effect

Green - Mercury: Business, friendships, partnerships (strongest manifestation power, at least for me)

Pink - Venus: Interactions, pleasant exchanges

Red - Mars, Black - Pluto: Immediate unpleasant effects like traffic problems, meeting people in bad moods, troubles with machines, things become more hectic

Navy - Saturn, Blue - Uranus, Teal - Neptune : No observable effect

Purple - Neptune/Jupiter : Increase or decrease of interactions with people, can give rise to popularity but can also slow down your progress (I haven't really figured out this one yet)

Orange - Jupiter: Chances to expand your perspective, be more brave, test your resolution and faith. Some events can be negative at first but will turn out alright, after that you will learn some valuable lessons.

About me | Masterpost

[lesbikaiser]

Lowkey can you do j + ness, hiori, and isagi for the alphabet thing 😈🙏😈🙏😈😈🙏😈 PLSPLSLLSLLSLLS i love u goat

it's hereee! "goat" alr what if i kms what then !? seriously y'all are so dear to me <33

also last post for the nsfw alphabet game omg! i really didn't think id get so many requests, thanks babes <3

also, the game has ended but don't forget my requests are open right now! read here and here before asking though ><

[ j ] jack off

alexis ness

never ever jerks off! he thinks it's a sacrilege to do it when he has such a pretty little thing like you to take care of him. you're the only one who should make him feel good and he'll only masturbate when he's with you, because if you're watching him his hand is barely doing anything to pleasure himself, just to have you there with your eyes on him makes his dick push globs of pre-cum out of his slit – he'll do any and everything you ask him so if you want to see him touching himself, touch himself is what he's gonna do. it's the only exception, aside from that he never jacks off.

yoichi isagi

he's an ordinary guy, and masturbates as often as one. maybe once a week before he met you, to lose up a bit of all the tension before his matches, an orgasm is always welcome and does wonders for him so, why not? he's decreased the frequency after starting dating you though, having sex with you is enough for him and just being with you works like a stress relief, of course he still jerks off when he's too nervous and away from you, but it happens maybe 1-2 times in a whole month.

yo hiori

same as isagi honestly, unless it counts to have you jerking him off! loves mutual masturbation so it's not a rare thing to have your fingers wrapped around his dick while he's knuckles deep inside you, he thinks your hands feel so much better than his so there's no point in trying to replicate something he knows he'll never achieve. he'll only do it when really pent-up and with no chances of you helping him.

[hellenhighwater]

Aaa as someone with very little understanding this is probably a vague question, but how does Michigan and its Glorious Scary Lakes fair with climate change? I live in California and it’s just dry and so so so hot and on fire a lot, which is making picturing zora’s domain tricky!

Ty :)

Same as pretty much everywhere, Michigan is seeing effects of climate change, but it's not the same effects you're probably seeing out west! The Great Lakes do insulate us a bit, though.

Even within my own lifetime, we're seeing less cold winters with freezes happening later. Anecdotally, warm temperature spikes mean that snow thaws during the winter and doesn't really accumulate in the same way. Increased temps means we get heavier rains, which can in turn result in flooding--much of lower michigan is very flat so we don't really get mudslides so much but flooding is still very not good. Ice coverage on the Great Lakes has decreased in the winters, which means a longer traversable shipping season but also negative ecological impacts--and also thin ice on the Great Lakes means you can't do things like drive to islands over the naturally-forming ice bridges, which is not crucial but is fun.

We do get tornadoes, which have increased with severity and frequency. Overall, though, we're still not at risk from hurricanes; we're usually too wet for widespread wildfires. The thermal battery of the Great Lakes does insulate us a little from temperature swings and droughts. We get blizzards but we're prepared for blizzards, so while it can be dangerous, it's generally a hunker-down-at-home problem, not a evacuate-at-risk-of-your-life problem.

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES

You don't know the pleasure it is to be back!!! Well, is everyone here ready for this?

As always, today is just the prologue. And on Saturday (known as tomorrow) the first chapter will come out.

As I said previously, posts will decrease in frequency for reasons of: COLLEGE WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME? But I'll be here every Saturday and I'll wait for you

Enjoy it!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, corrupt kink, mommy kink, ageplay, degradation, age difference, power dynamics, submission and domination, psychological domination, dubcon, fluffy, spanking, bdsm, angst, strap-on, slow burn [...]

Hey! Now I've a masterlist.

PROLOGUE

The golden light of dusk spilled through the towering windows of the Victorian mansion, staining the shadows with hues of copper and scarlet.

The air was heavy with the woody aroma of expensive whisky in a forgotten crystal glass on the mahogany table, mingling with the scent of Agatha Harkness—something between jasmine and the electric charge of an impending storm.

Seated in a plush velvet armchair of deep purple, she watched the crimson liquid swirl in the glass between her pale fingers, though her mind was far away, caught in thoughts that flowed like a dark, boundless river.

Her expression was unreadable, shaped by years of impenetrable control. The woman who ruled Hollywood, who turned careers into legends or dust with a mere gesture, felt something she loathed to admit: emptiness.

The fire crackled in the hearth, but even its flames dared not fill the thick silence that dominated the room. The director, whose blue eyes could cut like razors, seemed fixed on the void, her thoughts a myriad of sparks hidden beneath the surface.

“Are you going to keep drowning in your thoughts, or will you finally talk to me?”

The deep, slightly husky voice sliced through the silence like a sharp blade. Leaning against the doorframe, Rio Vidal watched her wife with the intensity of someone who knew the full weight of their own love.

Arms crossed, her black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, revealing the ink that snaked across her sun-kissed skin. Every line of her body exuded contained frustration and a devotion so fierce it bordered on destructive.

“I don’t see what there is to talk about,” Agatha replied dryly, not even turning her head. “You know how this works. I work. And you play with your watercolors. We’re functional this way.”

Rio let out a bitter laugh, striding into the room with firm steps. “Functional? We’re further apart than ever, Agatha. You don’t even bother pretending anymore.”

The younger woman stopped beside the armchair, leaning in just enough for the woody, citrus scent of her skin to envelop Agatha.

The height difference was negligible, but the energy between them was brutal. Rio had always been raw intensity, an insatiable hunger. And Agatha? An unattainable enigma.

“What do you want me to say?” Agatha finally lifted her eyes, cold as ancient ice. “That I’m sorry for being the woman the world expects me to be? That I apologize for not being shaped for the tenderness you insist on demanding?”

Rio clenched her jaw, her brown eyes glinting in the warm firelight. For years, she had fought against this wall, this chasm between them. But fighting Agatha was like playing chess against an opponent who had already planned ten moves ahead.

“I don’t want apologies, Agatha,” she murmured, her voice unexpectedly soft. “I want to know if there’s still something here. Anything real, something that isn’t part of this damn performance you put on all the time.”

The silence between them wasn’t just heavy—it was devastating.

Then Agatha looked away.

A small detail, almost insignificant. But to Rio, it felt like a punch to the gut.

“I don’t know,” Agatha said at last. And for the first time, the ice in her voice didn’t sound unbreakable.

The weariness in Rio deepened. She carried her obsession with Agatha like a curse, a sentence she had willingly accepted. But even the most devoted love has its limits.

It was then that fate decided to intervene.

Agatha’s phone buzzed on the table beside her. The sound made them both blink, as if a spell had been broken.

With a restrained sigh, Agatha swiped her finger across the screen. The notification was from her team of advisors. Tomorrow, she would give a special mentorship session at the local university.

An obligation she had initially despised, but now…

Now it seemed intriguing.

Rio raised an eyebrow. “A new project?”

Agatha merely smiled, tilting her head slightly. An enigmatic, lethal smile.

Rio didn’t trust that smile.

“And what exactly are you going to teach those students, hm? How to be a manipulative ice queen?”

“Perhaps.”

They exchanged a glance, a silent battle waged between desire and resentment. Neither of them knew that a seemingly mundane encounter was about to change everything.

The missing link. The force that could either destroy or save what remained between them.

You.

~*~

Are babies prepared to be corrupted?

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

[narcissistshandler]

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟

from the series of thoughts that I only have during the night: I really find it incredibly erotic to fuck a man who, for whatever reason, whether it be a cock ring, a chastity cage or just tiredness/stress, can't get hard. judge me, I don't care. top!male reader and bottom! geto suguru below, no specific warning, but this is a bit angst and dark. minors dni. if you haven't seen part one of season two or haven't read the manga this contains spoilers.

Suguru was tired. Exhausted to the point where he wouldn't even consider dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the icy water that threatened to freeze his bones help with the ever constant tension in his shoulders. The phantom taste of the cursed spirit that lingered in his mouth, consistent even when it had been days since he'd swallowed it. He wanted to vomit. Wanted to pass out under the stream of water. Wanted to sleep for hours at a time, not even considering waking up. It was easy to search for just one word: disappear.

Instead of all that though, he was seduced by your hungry eyes, by your deft fingers always touching him with mastery - and a gentleness that never failed to make him sick. You undressed him as you took his mouth in a deep, sweet kiss that erased the sourness and bitterness rising in his throat, not commenting on the deep, dark circles under his empty eyes, or the decreasing frequency of times he returned to what you called 'home'.

You trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, your every hurried, warm movement giving away just how much you wanted him. And you didn't even point out loud that Suguru wasn't even hard for you.

"It's okay." Suguru opened his mouth to say, using all his remaining strength to touch your wrist where for the last five minutes you've tried to bring him to hardness. Suguru really wanted you. He couldn't think of a better way to take away the darkness that roamed the corners of his mind with memories of the past rather than with your cock inside him. But he knew he wouldn't get hard, It didn't matter how much you tried.

Suguru spread his legs wider around your hips and apparently the look he gave you - desire beneath the exhaustion - was enough. You warmed up the lube and started prepare him with your fingers.

The first finger went in easily, there was nothing but temporary discomfort, yet Suguru felt as if his skin were on fire, the stretching sensation tensing his legs. Familiar noises began to fill the room; three fingers pushed their way inside him and Suguru thought he was close to losing his mind. It felt good, very good. Your fingers opening inside him, making a wet noise each time they moved in and out of him, driving deep, rubbing his prostate. Suguru still wasn't hard, but he didn't care and he knew you didn't either.

He opened his mouth to beg for your cock, his throat dry. Only ineligible noises came out, a jumble of letters that didn't make sense along with your name. "Dema me ur psua [name]," he muttered. "[name] [name] [name]."

Somehow you got it, how could you not when Suguru was writhing in the sheets, feet tucked into the mattress working to sink against your fingers?

The tip of your cock pressed against the taut edge and began to thrust inside; thick, perfect. Suguru's eyes fell closed, a sound that was a mixture of wail and sigh left his lips and his back collapsed against the mattress, as if all the remaining strength left him.

There was barely any burn, but he still felt every nerve in his body ignite with the sensation of your length pushing its way inside him. The tight walls made way for you, his hole molding itself around you. Suguru searched for your lips like a starving man in the desert.

The sound of the waves as in a distant dream faded, taking with it the flashing memories of Riko Amanai, deeper, the smiling face of Haibara beckoning to him faded away into the darkness under his closed eyelids, only the wet sound of skins meeting was left, the grunts that came out of your mouth, the feel of your fingers digging into his thigh, the reality.

The shadows are gone, only an inexplicable calm remains.

Suguru's cock was limp against his stomach without any sign of coming out of it, even when you once again took him in your hand and started to stimulate him. It felt good, so Suguru didn't tell you to stop. He surrendered to you, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as you began to move, in and out of him, each time faster and stronger until you were fucking him mercilessly into the mattress in an uncomfortable position that pressed his knees close to his head.

One of your hands moved up his taut stomach and began pinching his nipples hard, eliciting groans from him. Suguru knew that the next day his nipples would be sensitive, his hole swollen and red, but he didn't care, in fact he wanted this desperately: to carry the marks of your belonging on his body, so that he could remember the heat, violence and control of your touches.

His hole tightened with rhythmic contractions, the feeling of being full, of having you filling him to the brim was too much. Suguru gasped against your mouth, barely finding the will to pull away from you, even if it was a mere kiss. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth and urged you to do the same, to take all your frustrations and tiredness out on his body. He needed this.

Words weren't necessary.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, your thrusts became faster and deeper, nails digging into his skin. Suguru knew how to make you hurt him and he knew you wouldn't stop if he didn't tell you to. All of him craved the pain and anything else you wanted to give him. The admission was a dark and heavy veil: Suguru was yours to take and he was broken.

Desperately, he mentally begged: please hurt me more. Hit me, scratch me, bite me, pull my hair harder, fuck me until I bleed, fill me up until I taste you in my throat. Make me feel. Remind me that I'm not alone.

[serpentface]

Two Wardi 'unicorns', the hippegalga and the scimitar deer. These are distantly related ungulates who both happen to produce a single horn

The hippegalga is a tiny antelope, about the size of a hare. It has a very broad range and can be found across the region and beyond, settling mostly in shrubland, savannah, and wooded areas. Unlike other closely related species (these are basically dik-diks and exist elsewhere in the setting) they form large, loosely structured herds and breed rapidly, commonly producing four offspring at a time.

The horn is a permanent growth, and occurs directly in the center of the skull. It develops in both males and females (though is much smaller in the latter) and serves some practical function in scratching at bark to mark territory (in addition to scent deposits- rubbed directly into scratched bark from the eye gland, and left as piles of dung).

Their horn is worn as an amulet in many parts of the region (either intact or carved into a phallic shape) due to having strong associations with male fertility, as well as apotropaic functions more broadly associated with imagery of genitalia. One Wardi slang word for the penis is derived from this animal's name ('galga').

They experience hunting pressure for their horns, and their meat is regarded as a delicacy, but most populations are stable. They adapt well to densely populated and developed areas, breeding prolifically in ecosystems depleted of predators. A large, stable population exists in the city of Wardin. These particular animals are semi-tame and frequently fed by humans, and are socially protected from hunting (believed to be living good luck charms and just SO charismatic and cute). Their only real day-to-day threats are the city's (much less beloved) population of feral dogs.

---

The scimitar deer is the only native deer to the region, and exist in two major, isolated populations (remnants of a wider population from when woodland and savannah spanned across most of the region's north). One population exists in the wooded regions of Greathill in the northwest, and a larger population in the oak forests to the northeast (and beyond).

Their singular antler is shed seasonally and grows bigger, longer, and more curled with age. The antler grows asymmetrically on one side of the head (usually the left), though this is only slightly off-center on the skull and does not significantly impede balance (outside of old bucks with very large antlers). Some bucks grow a set of two antlers as a mutation (with one side being substantially smaller than the other) but this appears to be unattractive to females and such animals breed at a decreased frequency.

Bucks in rut may clash antlers by interlocking them at the fork, but these battles are low intensity- their antlers are relatively fragile and not well suited to prolonged shoving matches. The antler is a visual display first and foremost. A buck will show off to does and intimidate rivals by tossing and bowing his head at an angle to display its size and length.

In Greathill, traditions widely hold that these animals are supernatural in nature and herded like cattle by the mountain's 'wildman' fae-folk. They often appear in folktales as prized, magical herds, with stories centering on great raids of the deer as the ultimate and most valuable livestock (being immune to disease, able to be milked like cattle, ridden like khait, and capable of plowing fields with great speed).

[crippleprophet]

i don’t understand how people can be so fucking cruel about people who can’t read much (including people who aren’t literate, though this post is from my experience with chronic illness). like, one of my main motivations behind posting excerpts of butch+femme writing on my main (@campgender ; it’s fine to go through my bookshelf tag but please only followers age 18+ on that blog!) is that it is fucking hard to read a full book!!

my reading comprehension & stamina decreased drastically when i developed worse chronic fatigue, & while i’m overjoyed that i’ve recently regained a lot of that particular ability since getting blackout curtains, there are absolutely still texts i can’t even begin to parse that i once would’ve loved digging into — texts that it would be actively dangerous for me to attempt to struggle through because it would break pacing.

idk i’m not trying to be self-congratulatory here or whatever but like. the second i could access information through this means again, the focus of my (very fucking limited!!) energy has been giving it back to my people. my life has been unquestionably, deeply shaped by tumblr users who share excerpts of theory & memoir & poetry because they were providing labor of which i was in need & incapable.

finding, selecting, transcribing, formatting, & at times contextualizing passages takes a lot of fucking time & energy, but in order for me to encounter certain concepts, experiences, & histories, it’s work somebody else had to do, because i couldn’t read 200 pages of research or anthology in order to encounter the 10 that would change my life — but posted 2 or 3 pages at a time, i could save that in my drafts to get through on a good day, & quotes that were only a couple lines i could usually read right when i encountered them.

so, in memory of the years i spent unable to access theory through anything other than excerpts & secondhand summaries,

and in anticipation of the years to come where i will live the same,

and in acceptance that the brain is a muscle, in love of we the exercise-intolerant,

to you, dear reader — whatever form & frequency & duration that reading may take, even if it’s no further than this post — i make my motherfucking covenant: the issues i discuss around pulling quotes will be about the political act of the ellipse and the ethics of transcription, not shaming people for the methods of accessing information that are available to them. as often & as long as i am able, people can ask me to explain something or summarize in plain language and i will meet them with respect, interest, & effort. if someone’s looking for information on a particular topic, identity, experience & doesn’t have the energy to find it, i’m gonna give what i have towards filtering through the bullshit for the gems.

according to our abilities. according to our needs.

and the next time somebody tells you it’s not ableist to say everyone has to read [whatever work], tell them to go put their precious ability to better use in making it more accessible.

[goodluckclove]

A Laundry Guide for People Who Have Obvious-Sounding Questions They're Too Afraid to Ask

Maybe you’ve never been taught how to use homemaking alchemy to transmogrify dirty clothes and linens into clean ones. Maybe you brute-forced every interaction with a washer and dryer, resulting in something that seems passable – but you’re pretty sure it’s wrong.

It is so easy to look into the process of doing laundry and immediately fall down a spiral of anecdotal information and razor’s edge-precise rules. There’s something ritualistic about engaging with laundry, some eldritch dread in looking at all the compartments of your average Laundry Device and wondering what the fuck you’re supposed to do with them.

I might be projecting at this point. Let’s break it down.

How Often Do I Wash The Things???

This is. Strange to look into. I’m pretty confident in my Laundry Wizardry, but as soon as I started looking into the arguments of how often people say you should wash certain linens and fabrics around the house, I was immediately overwhelmed.

Like, I trust Good Housekeeping. They’ve been around for over 100 years, so I think if they were an unreliable source of information someone would’ve caught it by now. But after looking at their posted guide breaking down laundry frequency depending on the article of fabric?

Fucking hell. God damn.

I believe them, okay? I believe there’s merit to their suggestions. But at the same time, I’m not about to wash my hand towels and wash clothes every goddamned day that’s insane.

I can try and translate it into something that’ll maybe be a little more comprehensible to people who either don’t have access to an in-unit washer and dryer, or are just a little frazzled in the head when it comes to executive function. Maybe you can see this and get some ideas on how to adjust things for your own lifestyle. I do my main wardrobe once or twice a week, and here’s how I work it out the special cases in my brain:

These are kind of gross pretty much immediately, so make sure you have enough to get you through a week: socks, underwear, smaller towels,

Things I aim to wash these like 1-2 a month: sheets, pillowcases, blankets, bath mats

These should also be cleaned, but there’s enough nuance that it requires special consideration: pillows, comforters, certain sweaters or jackets

In my house we stay real cozy and have  a stockpile of massive blankets we’re wrapped in pretty much anytime we’re at home. If I only washed these blankets every three months, my wife would dissolve into dust like the climax of a Marvel movie.

Also, flat-out, I don’t wash my pillows. The steps to do that are unfathomable to me, even though I see the purpose. I’ve also read enough to grasp that it’s pretty easy to mangle a pillow by putting it in the wash. It sounds much more accessible to spot clean with a solution of mild dish-washing liquid, spritz them with a disinfectant spray (Lysol makes one, the off-brand ones are likely just as good), and maybe using baking soda to deodorize.

I’ll touch on that more on a separate, dedicated cleaning guide – which is where I’ll also talk about stains. I can’t get into that here without making this far too long and frightening.

It is Time to Do The Laundry Now. Hold My Hand. It's Okay, We're In This Together

Step One: Figure Out What You're Washing

Resist the temptation to overload your machine. If you’re using a laundry room or laundromat, it might seem like a good strategy to save a few bucks. Honestly, whether or not it's worth it in the long run is up to you. It'll increase the likelihood of certain materials getting damaged, as well as decrease how clean some things get. But if every load of laundry costs you like two bucks, sometimes you gotta' do what you gotta' do.

How do you know you’re overloading a washing machine? There are a few obvious signs, like if the door struggles to close, or if the washer is noticeably shaking and buzzing during the spin cycle. If you also notice your clothes are still dirty after washing, or speckled with soap residue, that usually indicates you're washing too much at once.

That’s why separating loads is so useful. You may have heard people mention separating their light and dark fabrics. The reasoning behind that is because darker fabrics bleed their dye at hotter temperatures, so if you wash darker clothes in cold water they keep their vibrancy for longer. With newer detergents and washing machines, though, this is much less of an issue.

Even when I was using far older machines – in my second apartment’s laundry room, for instance – I never prioritized this. I instead separate loads based on need and use. I try and reserve bedding and bath towels for their own loads, because they take up a lot of space. If I had more delicates I’d probably separate those into their own thing too.

If the laundry’s really piled up because my brain exploded, I will also go ahead and make a load or two of just underwear, bras, and a few core outfits I feel comfy and cute in. It’s not glamorous, but it works!

Step Two: Get Your Goos. It's Goo Time, Baby

The following is a breakdown of the basic goos and liquids you can use to make your clothes good. How you use them depends on whether or not your machine has a detergent compartment, which is usually seen as a small drawer in the front of certain machines that can be pulled out to load detergent, bleach, and fabric softener as needed.

If a machine doesn’t have them, you put all your Laundry Potions directly into the drum – that’s what they call the main tumble pit that washes and cleans your fabrics.

Stain Remover: If you're treating a fresh stain, the right time to do it is before you throw it in the wash. The heat of the dryer sets the stain, so you want to douse it in that Good Good as soon as you can. They sell dedicated stain removers (Shout and Oxyclean are pretty good). If you don't have those, using an old toothbrush to scrub the area with a small amount of dish soap before sponging it down with a little bit of white vinegar helps with a lot of basic stains. You might want to let treated clothes sit for fifteen minutes or so before you throw it in the wash. If using a spray stain remover, consult the instructions with more faith than me.

Detergent: Comes in powder, liquid/gel, and pods. How the fuck do you choose between these options, you might be asking? Depends on what you can afford and what you value. Powder is usually the cheapest, and often the most environmentally-friendly, but it can be slow to dissolve at lower temperatures. Liquid and gel detergents are the best for colored fabrics because it tends to be bleach-free. Certain cities also have refilleries, or zero-waste shops where you can often get bulk detergents and soaps. The pods are are also bleach-free, and usually multi-functional, but they tend to be the most expensive variety and leave plastic waste.

Bleach: Bleach comes in two main varieties: chlorine/oxygen-based, or non-chlorine/color-safe. In laundry, it's used to remove stains and brighten clothes. I'm putting special emphasis on these varieties because I have a longstanding, unreasonable fear of using bleach in laundry. Chlorine bleach will stain the fabric of colored clothes, so don't use it if you don't want that to happen. If your machine has a detergent compartment, it’ll have a separate place for liquid bleach. If it doesn’t, or if you’re using powdered bleach, you can put it directly into the drum. With liquid bleach, you’ll want to start the wash first and let the drum fill partway with water before adding the clothes. How much bleach you use will depend on the brand and size of the load, but it’ll usually be around ¼ cup.

Fabric softener: I'm gonna' level with you - fabric softener is weird. It’s generally considered to be useful on cotton and natural fibers (Excluding wool and down). It’s also acknowledged to be a product of an age where laundry strategy was a lot less efficient, so most will say it’s optional, if not entirely unnecessary. In fact, it’s been noted that excessive fabric softener use can cause mildew buildup in certain machines. If you’re wanting a better, fragrance-free alternative that’ll also help remove soap residue and leave your towels and fabrics softer, you can use white vinegar in place of fabric softener (Either in the softener tray on the detergent compartment, or about a ¼ cup in the drum). But you can also skip this. The Ghosts of House-Spouses Past won't look down on you in disdain. They'll probably be jealous your equipment is so much better than what they had access to.

Washing Machines Have a Lot Of Settings. What - Uh - What Do I Do About That?

Yeah, man. I know what you mean. There’s a designated  “Normal” setting that I tend to stick to. Sometimes I'll do like Sanitize or Heavy Duty if shit's extra gross. We don't have a lot of really finicky fabrics in our house, and there are absolutely settings on my washer and dryer I straight up have never used and don't understand.

It helps to check the tags on whatever you want to wash. It'll say if you need to care for it in any weird way. It'll also say if it's okay to dry it, and the best heat setting to dry it if needed.

Step Three: Dry Time Baby

Fabric sheets exist and can help with static cling, as well as softening clothes and providing a nice scent if needed. A cheaper long-term alternative that’s actually more useful are dryer balls. Their default is unscented, but you can add a few essential oil drops if you want to. They do everything fabric sheets do, but they also bounce around your clothes, keeping them from getting tangled in each other and giving you a more even dry.

A dryer has a lint trap, usually on the front wall near the door opening. It’s smart to check and clean it before every load, but if it’s your own machine you can get away with doing it maybe once a week. The lint and pet fur or whatever gathers there, and if it gets too full it’ll dry less efficiently or even act as a fire hazard.

Load your clothes from the washer and dryer. Once again there’s a normal setting, but you can also adjust temperature or time if needed. I only really do that when I’m either putting something clean directly in the dryer to get rid of wrinkles, or drying clothes that are only slightly damp. In both of those cases, longer time with lower heat is very helpful.

Dry your clothes. You did it! Good job.

Oh wait shit what now.

Putting Away Your Clothes???

So the person who asked me to look into this also wanted some insight on how to fold clothes and put them away. This is a complicated issue for me.

I might get called out for this, but when it comes to the best way to put away your clothes, I strongly believe it is virtually whatever sustainable method that works for you to find clean clothes.

My wardrobe is literally into four baskets. The first is for what I dub “easy clothes”, so t-shirts, shorts, soft pants and the like. The second is for my button downs, sweaters, and slacks. The third is where I keep my dresses and jumpsuits – pretty much anything more prone to wrinkling. The fourth is my briefs, bras and socks. I am at a point in my life where I accept that I often do not have the brain space to hang or fold things a bunch of things consistently. I don’t really dress in anything prone to wrinkling, and anything that proves an issue I just toss it in the dryer for like ten minutes before I go out. I hear hanging it up in the bathroom while you take a shower also works to steam out the wrinkles, but I personally haven’t tried that.

I’m not even going to suggest different ways other people fold clothes. They exist. The “life hacks” are out there, but if you know in your heart of hearts that you will not be able to LARP as an Old Navy employee every time you put away clothes, these tips will not help you.

There is no wrong way to put away clothes if it keeps your clothes clean and accessible for you. If you’re freaked about wrinkles you can try rolling your clothes. Or buy a handheld steamer. You can get one from a big-box store for like less than twenty bucks and they’re great for bedding too.

Be free be clean my friends.

Do you have a request for an in-depth guide like this on something you think you should already know? Reach out to me through DM or ask box and let me know!n

[natalieironside]

Hey: Does anybody have anything on who the author of this Onion article might be?

Chris Straub cites it as an important inspiration and it's had such an outsized influence on the past two decades of horror fiction and it ain't right for that contribution to go unacknowledged.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Four - Planetoid

Part Three

———

Adrenaline is one hell of a drug, it’s a direct part of the organics fight or flight response. Where the heart rate, respiratory rate, and blood pressure increase. It decreased the immediate ability to feel pain and practically enhanced one’s ability to fight. Most pilots were deemed in their compatibility testing to resort to fight, more often than flight, in response to an external threat. To face the action instead of turning tail and running off, it was something they’d either have to have or something they’d have to learn. To move with the punches, so to speak. For the mech pilots they’d learned fast that flight; would get them killed and fight was the right instinct to have.

One of the easiest ways for adrenaline to be produced is with the feeling of either fear or thrill, again that fight or flight response. Most people experience it on amusement park attractions or when participating in some sort of extreme activity like sky diving. Things that were significantly more popular before the invention of mech suits and long before the alien invasions. It wasn’t a terribly far off comparison, sky diving, as Hound and Sunstreaker fell through the lower atmosphere of the planet.

The suits were designed to survive exit and entry of different planetoids, thank you Preceptor, but even with that in mind they were supposed to remain attached to the Odyssey during that time. Not in free fall, but it was safer for the shuttle to only have two of the four mechs attached to it during a decent. Easier to maneuver into a safe decent and certainly a few hundred tons lighter than it would be. Starting at the ever approaching surface, over the comms it was mainly heavy breathing of someone forgetting to turn their microphone off. The fear was palpable over the frequency, even as the two mechs twisted in the air to slow their decent. It was entirely unlike anything they’d had to deal with before and that was terrifying.

“I need you all active on comms.” Breakdown sounded calm, certainly calmer than he had when the airlocks to the mechs unlocked, much more in his element on a collision course with an unknown entity then when the technology around him did things it wasn’t supposed to do, “Copy.” Hound could hardly respond, trying to right his mech for the crash landing, moving about to grab hold of Sunstreaker, he spoke up next; “Alright, this is just like the evacuation training, except we remain in the suits.” “Yeah, copy.” Sunstreaker’s voice didn’t waver, also calm. If there was something to be said about pilots, they needed to have a certain level of crazy to handle the job. Their hands clasped together and held tight, falling much faster than the shuttle, though that was experiencing its typical re-entry. Banking lightly to adjust for the airstreams in the atmosphere.

Scanning the planet, cause it was certainly large enough to be one on second look, there was possible inhabited areas both to their north and east, artificial lights shining in the distance. Hound kept hold of Sunstreaker, kicking lightly to turn them in the air, “Alright, we need to veer away from landing to our north or east, Breakdown you will need to bring the Odyssey down as safely as you can away from those sectors.” His visor was lightning up with readings coming in from outside his suit, it making the adjustments that were needed for proper functioning, “You don’t think those could actually be inhabited areas, right?” Sideswipe was still breathing heavy, less anxious now and more with effort. He’d moved around and was ensuring that Breakdown’s suit was staying secure to the Odyssey. With a sigh, Hound shakes his head a bit, “I have no idea, but it’s not something I want to crash into if it’s the case. Sunny and I are going to pull our shoots once we’re under a mile from the surface so they don’t shred. You and Breakdown are doing to be heading towards the north, so if you have to put it down before reaching the potentially inhabited space do so.” He was activating his safety measures, as was Sunstreaker.

“You two are dropping like stones, we’ll land miles apart.” Sideswipe was looking down and back at them now, re-securing his mech to the Odyssey, “Yeah, we are, so stay with the shuttle and we’ll meet you there.” Sunstreaker was the only one who could keep Sideswipe calm, his voice low and easy, “We’ll see you in a while, just don’t play your music over comms.” There was a quiet scoff, “You do that one time and you never hear the end of it.” Hound smiles a bit and looks to Sunstreaker, nodding his head slightly as they pull their shutes, the shuttle far ahead of them and still high in the sky.

—

Mission Control received the message after twenty minutes, smiling, before passing it onto NASA for their own logs. Sending a brief but detailed response, effectively hiding in plain sight the simple saying of ‘keep looking’. The boss stood at the back of the room, hands clasped behind his back with an award winning smiling, which only faded slightly when a minute later their coordinates and vital signs popped offline, but data was still coming through for a moment long before showing a incredibly long delay. A longer delay than Voyager’s, frowning, he leans back against the wall for a second, “Send for pilot 2672, he’s going to training. And loop the data for the nerds at NASA.” Several people go into action as he stands there, watching the response time of their message tick up to over a year.

—

They landed in what best can be described as a giant puddle, it wasn’t deep enough to be considered a lake nor was it moving to be considered a river or creek. The suits were quick to inform them that it wasn’t water either. Grabbing hold of the shoot, Hound was folding his up and trying to tuck it back into the compartment it opened out of, “It’s a one time use without the re-pack codes to override the locks.” Sunstreaker wasn’t folding his up, but staring at the sky, watching the shuttle as it disappeared into the distance. Swearing, Hound draped it over his shoulder before adjusting the comm frequency to open two separate lines, one with the shuttle and one for here on the ground, “Shuttle, we’ve landed, alert us of how far you reach.” “Copy Hound.” Breakdown’s voice was almost static with the growing distance between them.

Sharing a look before turning on their targeting and weapons systems, Hound’s gun folding out from a compartment in his thigh, hefting it into his hold with ease as Sunstreaker flipped plating back on his arms, “You ready for this kid?” To be honest, Hound had only seen footage of the twins fights, he was often deployed in the evening or night to handle things to close to communities for the governments liking. The twins were much more flashy and fought in the day time off the coasts of Florida primarily, “Born ready Sir.” Hound cringed lightly, “Don’t call me sir, for the love of god.” He could tell it brought a smile out of the grumpier of the two twins, who nodded at him before they started walking. Fluid that wasn’t water splashing lightly over their feet, “What do you think this stuff is Hound?” Sunstreaker looked to him and Hound shrugged lightly, “Waitinf for my systems to fully calibrate, once they have I can run some tests.” Nodding again, they fell in next to each other, following the streak in the sky towards wherever the Odyssey went.

Out of the four of them, these two were the most mentally prepared to trek across an alien planet, so to speak, they certainly had more kills than the other two and one had more experience than any of them. Their suits were well suited to the terrain and there was a higher level of mutual respect. Sunstreaker had come to Hound several times over the years, asking for advice in the fight, he supposedly used to go to Jazz and knew the two of them were relatively close. At least as close as two pilots could be without being related. Their bond was nothing special, but shared experience was one hell of a way to stay connected with someone. Hound had been in the fight for twice as long as the twins combined, it was hard to make it that long fighting the flying squids, but you just had to keep going. If it wasn’t you in the suit then it would be someone else, someone younger. Looking to Sunstreaker, Hound rests his free hand on his mech’s shoulder lightly, “We’ll catch up with them Kid, then we’ll find wherever the bastards are coming from, end this fight.” Sunstreaker stared for a long time before nodding, sighing, then looking down at his feet, “What ever this not-water is, I think it’s going to damage my paint job.” Laughter was one of the best ways to lighten the mood, and Sunny knew how to bring out the loudest laughter from Hound, he was bent over and shaking his head, “I didn’t put spare paint on my essentials list, did you?” “Yes, actually, I did.” Now they could both laugh as they walked across the hard and wet ground.

—

Landing a space shuttle was a great deal like landing a plane, only with a plane you didn’t have giant mechs attached to your sides, and usually you’d have a runway to land on. The other down side to this was Breakdown flew helicopters, not airplanes, least not usually. He certainly had more experience than Sideswipe, but less than Hound who just followed orders of being the first in his suit if shit were to hit the fan. Keeping the Odyseey steady was important, the most important thing, but all Breakdown really wanted to do was bail in his mech and say screw it to the shuttle, what good would it do them if they couldn’t get it back off the ground.

“Hey Breakdown, any word from Sunny and Hound?” Sideswipe, who was holding onto the outside of the shuttle watching this weird world fly by, was trying to sound calm. Biting his lip a bit, he checks over the comm system, “Uh, not since they landed Sideswipe. See anything interesting out there?” He wanted to redirect the thought process, focus on the mission, take the focus away from the worry, “Yeah, I think Hound was right about the artificial lights. I don’t know what it is, but there are a lot of them to the east.” His voice wavered slightly, breath shaking on the radio again, “Sideswipe, take a moment to focus on the mission. Right now we need to land safely, then we can worry about Hound and Sunstreaker.” He adjusts the tilt to the shuttle, sighing as it continues to descend. It was quiet for a few minutes as Sideswipe turns off his comm.

They sat in the silence, separate but together, facing an entirely unfamiliar world.

“Alright, I’m good. How long do you think till we land?” His voice was clear and nearly calm, good enough, “Just a few minutes, we’re descending fast. We’ll be about ten klicks or twelve from the others, hopefully by the time we land. They should be making up ground fast.” Breakdown was quick to start lowering the landing gear, flipping several switching and activating the distress beacon, in case there were any Earth scanners anywhere, anywhere. Traveling through space was fine, being teleported to the atmosphere of an unknown planet was not.

If there was such thing as a smooth landing for a mech pilot, Breakdown and Sideswipe would not know. The ground may appear to be smooth but it was just as bumpy as any bit of unpaved ground back home would be. Getting thrown around in their respective piloting chairs, thrown against the seatbelts, was unpleasant. Groaning, Breakdown sits back and rubs his back when they finally came to a stop before turning on the comm, “Hound, Sunstreaker, we’ve landed supposedly about twenty klicks north of you both. Thought it would be closer, going to do some diagnostics on the Odyssey and check the atmosphere for us, see you in a bit.” With a flick of a switch, he deactivates the comm. Standing back up, Breakdown goes into the main hold to start running the checks, turning off anything unnecessary now that they were out of space.

Sideswipe stood around outside and slightly away from the shuttle once he disconnected from it, scanning the horizon for Sunstreaker and Hound, trying not to worry. Chewing on his lip had become a bad habit when he’d had to give up his other vices to become compatible. The wait was killer.

—

For giant mechs, it still takes a while to walk a handful of miles, sure the strides are longer and you certainly are bigger than the normal person, but it still takes time. Breakdown was still running scans and checks, not really able to piece together whether the air on this planet was toxic or not, and the suits were running their normal life support protocols. There was enough air in a suit to last several days, plus the compressed canisters still aboard the shuttle, if they were on a toxic planet they could probably survive long enough to get a message out about it.

Sideswipe was impatience, as soon as the familiar yellow suit appeared even in the distance, he took off running towards him. They collided as if they’d been separated for days rather than a few hours. Hound shook his head and kept walking towards the shuttle, activating the comm, “Any update Breakdown?” Only a moment of pause was there, “No, anything change out there?” Hound sighs, “Not yet, but I don’t like it. If those are artificial lights, they should have seen us coming and been here by now.” It hung in the air, the unknown, “Wrap up the scans, we’re going to head towards them for checks before it gets dark. If it gets dark.” Rubbing his face, Hound looked around and in the general direction of what could be a town of some sort, “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, I want you both to have your weapons out. If whatever took Jazz is here, I don’t want us to end up fighting an unknown enemy.” Sunstreaker looks over, “Or a whole lot of a familiar enemy Hound, they could have figured it out.” They paused before the twins started to prep their weapons.

“You boys keep your weapons up, Breakdown get to your suit and fall into attack formation DC-19. We’ll be back to the Odyssey shortly.” Hound had his gun up, it was a specially made item for his mech, experimental technology that seemed to hurt the aliens pretty well back home. Sunstreaker had long blade like bracers on the arms of his mech, along with more agility for advanced hand to hand work. Similarly, Sideswipe had one bracer and an extending sword on the other side. Hound’s feet slide slightly on the surface, it was much more slick that it initially appeared to be. Swearing under his breath, he rights himself and in turn his mech before looking over his shoulder, “We’re going to scout the immediate area and whenever their night cycle starts we will return to the Odyssey. Last thing we need is to get caught out in the dark.” Sighing slightly, he looks back around, as the last of his systems finally integrate and realign to him. When you were calibrated to a suit, it was meant to feel like a second skin, the suit of armor that you needed. For some pilots it felt like more than that. It felt like that for Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Breakdown. The twins had a similar reaction once their suits fully calibrated, both sighing deeply and rolling their shoulders in sync.

The landscape was entirely different from Earth, it didn’t even look like the images from Mars, it just was something entirely alien. Sideswipe whistles, looking this way and that, “Wow, have you ever seen some place like this?” Chuckling, Hound shrugs slightly, “Reminds me of Montana. Big sky country.” Coming back up to the shuttle, he waits as Breakdown’s mech gains its footing, only for a brief delay then, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” Breakdown’s voice was filled with a mild amusement, which caused both twins to groan loudly, “You know, I hate cliches. That’s what we are right now, walking cliches.” “Oh come on, let the man have a little fun Sunny!” Sunstreaker shoves at Sideswipe, “You defending the cliche makes it worse.” They were hardly back together for five minutes before their bickering picked back up. Hound rubs his face with a deep sigh, “We need to move before it’s dark. I don’t want to leave the Odyssey any longer than we have to.” Shifting to stand straight, then adjusting his gun, the twins fall silent then fall in. Attack position DC-19 was designed for fighting aliens, specifically designed for when they would face a hoard of them with as few as two suits. Four was a rather generous amount to have together at one time on Earth.

Right now, they could be the only four on the whole planet as far as they knew. Hound lets out a shaky breath and starts to move north, the nearest section of artificial lighting was around seven klicks that way.

A light, near the comms terminal in the main bay of the Odyssey flashed with delayed messages, from over the last five years. Finally within range to be received.

The four of them started north together, Hound with his gun up and ready, Sunstreaker to his left with arms slightly raised as if to box, Sideswipe to his right with his sword extended down to his side, and Breakdown to the rear with his shoulder mount humming ominously, hammer swinging lightly at his side. Moving together in tandem and with purpose towards the populated sector, or potentially populated sector, to find answers. Their heart rates fell to a resting rhythm, breathing joining it, while their feet clanked lightly against the metallic ground. The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off and they all went from feeling unstoppable, to significantly slower than before, but to determined to stop.

———

A/N

More Tags! I am so happy people have been enjoying this as much as I have been enjoying writing it. The entire Mecha AU has been eating my brain and for something that I was BS-ing with my sister about to hit the pages for me was incredible. I love writing, I love seeing all your own tags when you re-blog it. It give me so much inspiration to keep writing.

Between now and when I get to part six, I might post stuff for Arcturus Two, since they will have their disconnect. But we’ll see how much time I have this week. Between thanksgiving and LSAT studying, this inspiration is not saving me much time.

Thank you to everyone who has liked my posts, especially thank you to those who have re-blogged both the series and the masterpost, I promise to get the links fixed soon, I’m doing this all on mobile so it loves to be a pain.

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch

And of course thank you @keferon for inspiring us all in this crazy AU. I have loved watching us all froth at the mouth for it.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

WebMD Page for Aziraphale

As promised to you all, inspired by that video of Aziraphale as an antidepressant. The WebMD drug format, from your clearly deranged mascot, Asmi. This took way too much effort. For legal purposes, even though this blog is a lawless hellscape, this is a spoof. If you did like it, reblog it, maggoty loves of mine, because likes don't help visibility on tumblr, and I want everyone to be traumatised with my own specific brand of unhinged. No pressure though, be rebels muaha. That being said:

MENU > DRUGS & MEDICATIONS > AZIRAPHALE

COMMON BRAND(S): Guardian of the East Gate, Angel GENERIC NAME(S): Aziraphale

USES This medication is used to treat mood-related disorders ranging from depression to chronic loneliness and anxiety. It has also been proven effective in treatment of Compulsive Demonic Behavioural Disorder (CDBD) and Post Fall Stress Disorder (PFSD). The medication results in an overall improvement in mood (see Side Effects), morals, and lifestyle choices. This medication is sometimes described as a 'miracle-worker'. It is advisable to ensure that the correct dosage is taken at regular intervals. The doctor/God/Forces That Be may prescribe a lower dose at the start, gradually increasing frequency and amount over the course of millennia.

SIDE EFFECTS Documented side-effects include pining behaviour, severe withdrawal symptoms in case of suddenly stopping the medication, heart palpitations, stuttering or stammering, mood swings including irrational lashing out or defensive behaviour when faced with highly emotional situations, break-ups, misunderstands, obliviousness, amongst others. Despite the studies being limited to a single subject (see Crowley et. al. updated 2023) these effects are typically harmless in the long term. Life-altering effects may also be noted, including irretrievably falling in love, marriage, a positive character arc, tendencies to put oneself at risk to ensure continuation of medication, lifelong friendship, fate-defying romance and severe allergy to the idea of discontinuation of medication.

WARNINGS Casual or reckless consumption can be too fast for the medication, which will lessen its effects, leading to withdrawal symptoms. Withdrawal symptoms range from repeated indulging in CDBD and PFSD induced behaviours to alcoholism, depressive episodes, recklessness, listlessness, and prolonged car rides with no purpose. While the medication should not be consumed too fast, regularity is also advised. This is a long-term medication and not a short-term fix. Rare, short-term exposures will only worsen the side effects, withdrawal symptoms and may even reverse the drug effects.

PRECAUTIONS Ensure immortality so that the medication may be able to work its effect through the full course. Pre-existing trauma and heart conditions may require regular consultations with a therapist.

INTERACTIONS Drug interactions may change how the medication works or increase severity of side effects. This document does not include a comprehensive list of all drug interactions, please do adequate research and check instructions on the medication before proceeding with additional drugs. Aziraphale is known to have highly negative interactions with the toxin hellfire as well as the drugs Gabriel (only when sold as Supreme Archangel), Satan and Metatron (known toxin). Negative interference may occur due to most drugs from the class Heaven and Hell. Vague interference may occur with the drug class Homo sapiens.

OVERDOSE While less dangerous than withdrawal symptoms, overdose may lead to lack of personal space, miscommunication, and decrease in mood stability. Increased irritability is also common. Use with caution.

IMAGE

REVIEWS (1) Effectiveness: 5 stars Ease of use: 4 stars Satisfaction: 100000000000000000000e stars

It must be noted that in the country where I live (India), advertisements for pharmaceutical drugs are legally prohibited on television and other media. Which is why I was very bewildered at the initial video. But WebMD is a universal phenomenon so this shall by my contribution to the fandom. Thank you @neil-gaiman, Good Omens has given me a lot of opportunities to exercise my brain in all the weirdest ways.

[denaliwrites]

Let Me Come Home

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: Things took a turn during your travels with the Doctor.

Soundtrack: Home by Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros

Requests: Open!

Warnings: S A D D O C T O R A L E R T !

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

You waited for him every day.

He said "I'll be right back." You remembered it, clear as day. Played the moment he stepped into the TARDIS over and over in your mind.

And you waited.

There was only one place on the space station that the TARDIS could manifest into, really, and it was, as far as you were concerned, out of bounds. But there was a little communal area nearby; it was the first place you and the Doctor had wandered into from that little closet, which meant that, should the TARDIS appear, you'd hear it -- and you'd see the Doctor only moments later.

So you spent as much time there as you could.

Being on the space station for so long, you had no choice but to take up duties or else be sent off somewhere else, so you couldn't spend your every waking moment there. But your every break, your every moment not spent working, was spent in that little room.

You even spent some nights there, falling asleep to the metallic hum of the station under your feet.

No one bothered you.

The Doctor had saved them from certain death. They understood the gravity of him, the love and dedication one developed for a person like that. And you'd been with him for some time. They'd only spent the one day with him. They couldn't imagine how you felt. How much you hurt as you waited, day after day, your loyalty and certainty never once wavering. Even in the face of ever decreasing odds.

And yet.

You jolted awake one night (well, "night" was relative) to the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS.

He'd finally come back for you.

You'd fallen asleep in that little break room again, something you did with increasing frequency, but you didn't mind. A few restless nights were worth it when you knew you'd be back in the TARDIS eventually.

You were standing, waiting, when he stepped through the door. When he looked around, trying to get his bearings and finding you instead.

Your name had barely left his lips when you launched yourself at him, pulling him into a hug so tight that his breathing was momentarily cut off. There was no hesitation, his arms were instantly around you, holding you nearly as tight.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured into your ear, over and over again, and you could tell that he meant it down to the deepest pits of his two hearts. That leaving you behind weighed heavy on him. Haunted him.

"Why?" you asked simply, voice impossibly soft.

He pulled out of the hug, though his hands stayed firmly on your shoulders, like you might vanish the moment he broke contact with you.

"Someone put a time lock on the moment I left. I don't know how and I don't know why... but I've spent the last few hours trying different moments to get back. This was the first one that worked."

A few hours.

He'd only been gone a few hours.

In his time.

"Doctor, I've been here a year."

The way your voice broke on that last word broke him. You could see it in his eyes.

"I know," he said, voice full of endless sorrow. "I know. I'm so sorry. I tried so hard to get back to you sooner."

"I know." And you did. You knew the Doctor would never abandon you, never intentionally leave you.

"They've treated you well?" he asked suddenly, as his eyes took you in, looked you over. Examined you.

"The best," you answered with a tearful, relieved laugh. "They put me to work after you didn't show up for a week, but they've made sure I'm fed and clothed and everything. They even assigned me a new birthday and threw me a party."

He laughed at that, though the smile on his face seemed... sad.

"What's wrong?" you asked, tensing up.

"It's just..."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"You seem happy." And his words were so final, like there was no other conclusion, and nowhere left to go from that statement. "You took really well to the future," he commented after barely a moment, leaving you no room to think, to interject. "You've made friends. A life..."

Oh.

You saw the problem even before he said it.

"You'll want to stay, then?" The inflection made it sound like a question, but you knew it was an assumption.

"Don't you fucking dare leave me here again, Doctor."

"Sorry, what?" His face was stunned, and you were reminded for the first time in over a year that sometimes he could be a complete dumbass. "But... you're happy here... content here..."

"Please," you begged, voice thick with emotion. "Please, let me come home."

"And where's home?" he asked, and you knew that he thought you meant Earth, your time. Perhaps even specifically the house you'd lived in, with your family.

"You're home," you said instead.

It took a moment for him to realize what you'd said, and you watched as first the realization hit, and then as his face morphed from something so full of sorrow to so full of joy and hope.

"You were always my home. Always will be," you assured him, and he pulled you into another tight embrace.

When the crew awoke the next "morning," all your belongings were gone. The only thing left that showed you'd ever been there at all was a note you left wishing them goodbye, and a note from the Doctor expressing immeasurable gratitude to them for taking care of you.

[demonslayedher]

Low-Key Married AU fluff

Kochou said that I was disliked, so I asked her if she disliked me too. For someone so quick to have a smiling response to everything, she struggled to reply. She was the one who proposed marriage and swayed me, so I had thought that meant she had feelings for me. There would be no other way to read it. However, with as unbothered as she is by my absence, I have to wonder.

It’s been ten days since I had last contact with her. I went home to the Butterfly Mansion, but she had just departed for a mission, so I didn’t stay long so as not to trouble the girls. It may still be a few days before I can return again, but it’s always likely she’ll be busy. She’s incredible in that way, taking on all the care of our injured Corp members in addition to her Pillar missions. It must be in her personality to keep adding to what keeps her busy, like taking me in as though I looked like I needed the care. Although the times we’ve spent together have been nice, I don’t require it. My duties call for me to always be ready for battle, and I’ve always kept my heart steady.

So has she. We are Pillars first, and no amount of affection can sway us—whether an abundance or a lack.

I’m not bothered by lacking something I didn’t deserve in the first place.

Last night again, I was too late to prevent a family from being slaughtered. There were no survivors this time, aside from the eldest child who was still ravenous with a recent transformation. Having to chase him down and keep him from harming anyone else kept me off the trail of the progenitor of demons, who had to have been close by. For centuries, he’s evaded us this way over and over, sacrificing entire families to throw us off his trail. If I were to chide myself over every failure, I would have lost the ability to do anything ages ago. Each time, the anger is something I carry with me, to push myself harder the next time, and the next. Any extent more that I can push myself may be the difference to someone’s survival, no one can afford to lose their life over any of my own lost confidence.

“CAW!! TOMIOKA GIYUUUU! NEWS FOR TOMIOKA GIYUUUU!”

Each time it's a crow I think I recognize, my stomach drops. My mind is already playing the words I dread to hear, as though trying to protect my mind once I someday hear them.

"Kochou Shinobu has died."

Even if I hear them, I'm a Pillar first. That was what we promised each other. I'll always do as I must.

The crow says nothing as it delivers a letter.

YES, YES, I KNOW, THIS FANDOM HAS TURNED ME INTO SHIPPER TRASH. For this pairing, it was more specifically my own joke AU which later bit me in the back and made me start really, really enjoying GiyuShino (which, for the record, I do not consider canon). Was throwing ideas back and forth with @reicchel again the other day and so here we are with ship content!

Part of the reason I love the Low-Key Married AU (in which it's mostly canon as usual, except that Shinobu and Giyuu have been married for over a year or so, and it's not a secret but they make such little deal about it that many people don't even know they're married) is that it's a frame through which to see every interaction and either make it really, really funny, or very, very, sad. Everything was supposed to be funny, but it keeps hurting, hahaha... aaahhhh.

For instance, in a regular romcom situation, it should be funny that Kanzaburo doesn't deliver all of Giyuu's letters. Knowing these two, who might had started this whole "well, we'll be a couple when we have time" thing by actively writing regular letters, this could had simply given the impression that the other person wasn't writing as much, so they both naturally decreased frequency to match. It's a little lonely, but neither one is going to push the other for more attention.

No!! I refuse to let this post end with angst! Time for omake!!!

[vaspider]

joyful ask, to help with the strssful times

Our first cat, January, is gradually getting used to the idea of our new cat, October, existing in the house. We have moved along the acclimatization plan from "mealtimes on opposite sides of a closed door as a physical and visual barrier" to "mealtimes on opposite sides of a box fan in the open doorway as a physical only barrier", and last night I installed a cat gate of my own creation so that it can be the barrier rather than the fan, which when combined with a package of toilet paper on top as a jumping deterrent was prone to falling over if not held.

Once mealtimes are going smoothly — January is currently hissing at least once per mealtime, though not otherwise acting aggressive, and the frequency of the hisses is decreasing as time goes on — we will be able to leave the door open and the gate closed for longer periods of time so they have the opportunity to hang out a bit if they so desire, and further get used to each other

<3

[paradoxal-penmanship]

SCHIZOPHRENIC MIHAWK

[HEADCANON POST - Mihawk focused, Crochawk mentioned]

Seasons Greasons. I am a believer of schizohawk. allow me to bestow my wisdom on you.

[If you are interested in requests, I direct you to my intro post]

CONTENT WARNINGS: Descriptions of delusions, hallucinations (Auditory and Tactile), unwanted sexual touch (Hallucinated), catatonia, mentions of dying, briefly described sanism

Schizophrenic Mihawk is a headcanon I've held for a hot minute. You may wonder, well, where did that come from? And I actually have a few reasons! One reason is projection bc I am, infact, someone with schizophrenia, but - the others are based in canon! Granted, they're interpretations of what we know about Mihawk, but none the less, based on canon.

ABOUT MIHAWK'S SCHIZOPHRENIA

First and foremost, one of Mihawk's delusions is Cotard's syndrome

Cotard's syndrome is a delusion in which the sufferer believes themselves to be dead or dying; missing parts of their body; that they do not exist; or that they are unable to die.

In Mihawk's case, he believes he exists as a story rather than a person, and by virtue of that, he is unable to be killed - And make no mistake, that is not due to any idea that he is too strong to be killed. Rather, it's due to the idea that being a story, a myth, a legend, he will not die until it is written that he will.

this is why he laughs at Zoro and asks: "You want me to train the swordsman who will kill me?". He believes not only that Zoro will kill him, but also that the idea of he himself training Zoro is a preposterous concept to be written into this already toweringly tall tale.

Mihawk experiences distinct verbal hallucinations, and theyre typically in the form of Yoru "whispering" to him - And, Mihawk talking back to her.

Mihawk holds some level of awareness that she's not really talking to him, but being that Mihawk is mostly alone (Pre-Crossguild), it brings some form of comfort, to hold conversations with her (Although, they tend to be brief).

After joining the Crossguild, Mihawk still does have these little conversations with Yoru, though they are less frequent.

Yoru's voice tends to be quite judgey. She is fussy, prissy, and particular, as claimed by Mihawk. He says that she prefers to be set down in a certain way, and that she complains about being used on swordsmen who aren't worth her time.

"How dare, how dare, how dare you use my blade for something so trivial? That brat didn't even last a minute!"

"They insisted, and I obliged, Yoru. Don't be like that."

"I certainly will be like that! I'm insulted! Insulted, insulted, insulted! What next, you use me to butter your toast in the morning?!"

Sometimes, he may hear someone's voice calling to him, or asking a favor of him. They sound quite familiar, though Mihawk never deigns to respond.

Other auditory hallucinations he may have include ringing of church bells, the scurrying of little paws across the floor, or the sound of shouting that's just slightly out of earshot.

He also experiences tactile hallucinations - These are by far his least favourite

Sometimes, they're something only mildly bothersome, like the feel of a tail curling around his leg, or something skittering across his foot.

Other times, they're more vivid, and come in the form of hands caressing and touching him. Sometimes, it's a simple touch to the back of his neck. Sometimes, it's arms wrapping around him, or fondling his breasts. Sometimes - The hands will touch between his legs, sometimes more, and sometimes its so vivid Mihawk is hardly able to tell it's just not real. Wherever they're touching, it's unwanted, and it's distressing, as nothing Mihawk can do will make them stop. They only ever stop on their own, and its a startling loss of control to Mihawk.

After beginning to share a bed with Crocodile nightly, these tactile hallucinations decreased in frequency, but became more intense when they did strike him.

It takes a lot of grounding for Mihawk to be able to pull himself out of a panic - Though, it helps to have someone beside you.

Mihawk experiences bouts of akinetic catatonia.

His episodes can last anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes, all the way up to 6 hours or longer.

This has actually grown worse upon joining the crossguild. Particularly during meetings, Mihawk will go rigid, and stare blankly forward. Often, he is still aware and listening, though he does not comment. Buggy, in particular, is unsettled by this and makes that known. Crocodile doesn't mind it one bit, and is quite used to Mihawk's catatonic episodes.

"Hey, why is Hawky just - Starin' like that? 'S creepin' me out, can't he just like... Leave, or something? 'E's not even contributin'!"

"Would y' rather he be slicin' you to ribbons, clown."

"Well, well, wait!! No, but-"

"Then whus the problem. Jus' keep yer' mouth shut, n' quit derailin'."

If Mihawk experiences a catatonic episode while he and Crocodile are alone - Crocodile might still try to hold a conversation with Mihawk, though he accepts he won't really get responses most of the time.

Mihawk may make short, affirmative noises, like a "mhm" or "mm-mm" if he isn't too deep into an episode.

"Y'feelin' alright, Drac?"

"... mhm..."

"M' gonna stay here a while, s' that fine by you?"

"mm..."

Crocodile might gently rub Mihawk's back, or place his hand in Mihawk's palm - To which, Mihawk's fingers will slowly curl around them.

Mihawk may end up leaning into Crocodile, resting his head against his shoulder, etc, until his episode is over, or until Crocodile has to leave. Mihawk doesn't communicate it, but he enjoys having Crocodile around during these episodes. He may not always be fully aware, but regardless, his presence is a comforting one.

Gardening and cooking are two ways of grounding for Mihawk.

These are hobbies he practices regularly regardless of whether or not Mihawk is in the throes of a delusion or hallucinations, though he often turns to them when he is.

Both focus his mind onto a singular task, and keep it busy.

That being said, this aren't always effective at grounding him, and sometimes may cause even more distress if he has a particularly aggressive episode.