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kanene-yaaay · 2 years ago
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The Shine in My Eyes (Can Someone Turn Off The Lights?)
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Kanene’s notes: Heya heyaaa! I received that request AGES ago and thank you very much for your patience, bean! I hope you like the story, even tho I strayed from the original prompt.
I didn’t proofread it because I really wanted to post it as soon as I could sdfghjjhgfd so maybe some parts are confusing or repetitive, pls just hmu if that is the case ^.^)
Warnings: Light angst and hurt/comfort. Light and rough tickles. Ticklish!Reader and Ler!Moon. Around 4.000 words. Can be platonic or romantic. Sun is mentioned.
[~*~]
“Sleep?” The raspy voice questioned, so quiet that you would almost believe that it was part of your imagination if it wasn’t the amount of times you heard that same question in the last months. It spiked a warm feeling on your chest.
You would almost smile if it wasn’t the mild headache taking over your entire brain. 
“No.”
Cold, metallic hands touched your elbow, leading to an involuntary flinch that quickly disappeared when your mind catched up to whom the hand was. Moon continued, traveling his hands upwards your arm with careful, light and slow touches, telegraphing his movements enough that you could perfectly picture his form slouched next to you on the couch, head tilted, attentive eyes watching your body language and scans looking for signals of distress. It was good that you didn’t even need to open your own eyes to see that, knowing pretty well that doing so would only aggravate your pain.
Frustration ran hot on your throat, making you clench your jaw in response. Your eyes itched, still aching after hours staring at the computer’s screen after an entire morning of going out to do chores and shopping. There was an uncomfortable pressure on the back of your head. Yesterday it all wasn’t good either. This sucked. This really sucked.
Moon pulled you up from the urge to give up to the darkest thoughts peeking on the corner of your mind by taking the light fabric over your eyes and changing it for another one, damp from being recently bathed in cold water. A relieved sigh flees through your lips, your fists unclenching (when did you start pressing your nails in your palms again?) and being lifted to clean a couple of stray tears that now ran across your cheeks.
Two bigger hands overlapped yours, silicone digits wiping the water away before a humming began filling the air. You could almost picture the way the animatronic’s body was swaying from one side to another in the rhythm of the lullaby.
“Fuzzy, fuzzy.” The touch quickly changed directions so it would be playing with your hair, massaging and scratching your scalp with the skill of an animatronic that passed weeks fixated on human hairs and would spend another plentiful of weeks being amazed by their softness, form and type, waiting for you to lower your guards so he could try to convince you to let him try another hairstyle. Maybe you should consider buying them a wing. Sun would love it. You could almost hear the uncontrollably, excited rambling already. A small grin grazed your lips. A finger booped your nose. “You’re fuzzy because you’re tired. Sleep. Go to sleep.”
“Contrary to your belief, sleep doesn’t solve all the problems in the world.” Moon huffed at the lightheaded poke of fun, instead choosing to pinch your poor nose in retaliation. You swatted at his general direction, knowing very well it wouldn’t hit the target nevertheless. It was the thought that counts. “Besides, if I take a nap now it will destroy my sleep schedule for today. I am at least trying to keep it healthy.”
More like, you had now two animatronics that would either began to fuzz over your bad habits, nervously twisting his fingers and anxiously spinning his sunrays, hovering and doing his best to make you feel better while trying to not overstep any boundaries and respect your (bad) choices or follow you at night with light steps and clicking sounds, calmly and happily accompanying you through your chosen night activities while also attempting to subtly nudge you to the direction of your room (and, consequently, your bed).
Of course, every now and then all of you would have your missteps. Some days Sun would tremble uncontrollably and hug you tightly when you tried to go out, chatting non stop over your and Moon’s attempts to comfort him. Another nights you would move too quickly or suddenly and Moon’s eyelights would go to a bright red and he would tackle you on the floor, body frozen on a security code he no longer had, but that still affected him. Other weeks everything would feel too much and you would push them far and away and wonder when it all came to this. Why did all came to this.
But
 
But then there were also be days where Sun would skip around the house, a happy humming that made his entire circuits vibrate - and kind of reminded you of a cat - on the tip of his tongue, a batch of homemade cookies or a new colored drawing waiting for you after a long day. There would be moments when your presence and Moon’s comforting, teasy banter would be able to make his sunrays twitch less anxiously and for him to smile brighter, every shoulder bump, every poke, every half hug and every lingering touch would be a promise and a confession (I am here I am here I care I am here).
There would be moments when Moon would come at your room with his hands once again tangled in a mess of yarn’s strands and he would grumble at your light pokes of fun and refuse to tell about his new project so he could catch you and Sun by surprise and tease you both about your reactions afterwards. There would be nights when he would be frozen and twitchy and feel the worst because he can’t get his body to move and you would start telling him about your day, about a funny meme you saw on internet and and interesting something he maybe didn’t know yet about humans or the world that exists around them, and then, bit by bit, he would be able to move (his entire systems blastring friend friend my friend my dear friend over and over above the instinct of threat catch eliminate) and you would watch a movie.
And there would be moments when you gave them surprise gifts because it seems like their wonder about the world, the universe and humanity would never disappear no matter how much time they spent out of that mall. There would be days they would leave warm dishes and hot drinks on your desk, when they would hug and hold you close when you were ready to face them, when they would listen to you and sing soft lullabies or distract you with games and banter until a smile and a soft feeling took over the sadness and red eyes.
There would be days that you spent looking for new activities or experiences the animatronics hadn’t tried yet, preparing another good memory for them to have. There would be afternoons when Sun would dance with you across the living room because he knew how much you loved that song. There would be evenings when Moon would wipe your tears and distract you from your aching eyes because he knew that bad thoughts are easier to fight when you’re not alone.
Evenings just like this one.
“Thinking too hard.” Moon pressed his thumb firmly on your forehead, pulling you out of your thoughts (again). “Too hard. Must rest. Sush.”
You snorted. “Wow. Thank you, man. I have no idea how I lived until now without your rich life advices.”
“Cheeky brat.” A playful poke was jabbed on your side, fishing a surprised yelp from your lips. 
Silence.
“Let’s play a game.”
A jumpy ‘zing!’ ran across your spine at the dangerous and incredibly joyful tune that took over his raspy voice, and you immediately knew that there wouldn’t be another ending for this day other than you becoming a mess of laughter on the couch. Still, even when a wobbly smile stretched on your face you tried to sound firm.
“No.” It didn’t work very well. There was no heat in it, titters already bubbling in the back of your throat. Your arms began moving and flailing in the general direction of his snickers.  “Moon, no. Give me your hands. Give me your hands right no-o-ow, come on!” Your words began fading and twinkling in between stubborn giggles and squeaks as a wave of pokes and squeezes began attacking your entire torso from seemingly everywhere. 
"Sorrrrry, Moonlight. Can you repeat that?" He was prodding your ribs now, tapping his fingers on each one of them, escaping from your grabbing hands with ease, not taking long before his attack changed to a light pinching of that absurdly vulnerable spot that connected your belly with your sides. His delighted tune showed that he was not sorry at all. "Can't hear you over all of those wiggly giggly giggles. Care to repeat what you just said? Hm?"
His attacks were getting even harder to predict, the cloth on your eyes helping in nothing your current state, actually, the fact that you couldn’t see where he would strike next only made butterflies fly excitedly on your nerves.
Before a reply could leave your mouth, however, his hands began spidering all across your midsection, digits fluttering and dancing on your stomach, barely scratching the sensitive skin next to your bellybutton, teasing and worming their way up and down, from a side to another on your stomach, exploring and tickling every available space until it could calmly rest on your hips, still softly scribbling the ticklish spot with no worries in his heart.
It was hard to not squirm with the tickles, even more so to control the yelps and chuckles that kept falling from your mouth like a waterfall. Especially with Moon's taunting squeezes that never failed to appear when you never expected and fish a squeaky snort.
You tried to talk once again.
He digged his fingers just the slightly bit on the flesh of your hips.
Your hands flew to hold his wrists, lips pressed firmly shut with the willpower that he, the evil jester, the mean clown wouldn't get not even a single more yelp from you.
"I think someone wants to laugh. ~" The whispering wasn't even that close, the animatronic not even having a breath to make it so taunting but you still felt the urge to scrunch your neck and protect your sensitive ears, knowing very well they were one of their favorite places to attack. "Someone here, a very ticklish, very giggly and silly-silly-silly someone wants to laugh sooo much right now
 isn’t that right, starlight?"
His hands (still being held but not pushed away by yours) calmly crawled across your sides, drumming on your ribs and still going up until both of them laid on your shoulders, scribbles and scratches leading their way up to your chin, leading your squirms even worse with all the giddy anticipation that traveled across your nerves and made it hard to stay still in the same place.
"Such precious, beautiful laughter and giggles trapped right here." He tsked, one of his hands traveling slowly - all his movements now were surprisingly and still slow, as if he was telegraphing his moves for you - to tease the underline of your jaw. "Greedy, greedy. Wanting to keep all of your adorable reactions all for yourself. You need to learn to share."
His voice was closer. Much closer than before. Danger sirens blasted on your brain but the effort to not laugh and succumb to the ticklish scratches now focusing on unfairly attacking the shell of your ears and the spot right behind them distracted you too much to realize what was about to happen. Why was his voice closer? 
A low, half filled with joy and half with mischief chuckle filled the air. And suddenly you knew the answer. 
“Moon, don’t you dare-!” But it was too late, the unbearable buzzing already taking over your senses, the raspberry spreading like electricity across every single inch of ticklish skin on your neck, pulling all the laughter, all the squeaks, snorts and titters from their hiding spots, making a smile stretch from a side to another on your face.
It didn’t last more than one or two minutes, however. And soon enough Moon was changing and re-adjusting the cloth over your eyes since the last one was already dry and it had fallen from its place with all the struggles. It was dark and your vision was still slightly blurry, but the smirk over the other’s faceplate was crystal clear, his head spinning twice before it bobbed in your direction. 
You mentioned for him to come closer, giggles still running away from your mouth uncontrollably. When he did as asked, your hands held his face with care, thumbs caressing the metal of his cheeks, red eyes watching your expression with adoration and wariness.
“I
” You took a good gulp of oxygen, letting your voice in a sweet, lovely tune, giant smile still plastered on your features. “Will destroy you once I’m free.”
The wheezing sound that came out of his system was loud and uncontrollable, a few parts of his exoskeleton clicking non stop in a kind of amusement that only happened when his guard was down and he was caught by surprise.
You probably just made it even worse to yourself. It was clear for the way that Moon’s eyes squinted until they looked like a crooked smile.
But the promise was worth it. Maybe you could even ask for Sun’s help. His teases were basically unbearable to endure.
“Lay down, lay down, troublemaker.” Careful touches pushed your shoulders so they would go back to a laying position, the piece of fabric being again put over your eyes and bringing a sense of cold relief. It almost made up for the fact that you were walking to a trap.
Well, at least it was a comfortable one.
“Perrrrrfect.” You felt Moon lifting your legs, sitting on the free space on the couch and then laying said ones on his lap. “You laughed, now it means you have to play my game.~”
You wondered if you would be able to get to your room and lock yourself before the animatronic could catch you.
As if reading your thoughts, two hands locked on the spot right above your knees, not squeezing (not yet) but being close enough that a wobbly tune began painting your grin and the need to wiggle away started itching on your nerves.
“Alright.” You acquiesced, the grumpy pout being quickly erased when a single finger skittered on the ticklish skin under your knees. Cheater. “Alright. What is the game?” 
“Say the word.” Confusion must have shown on your face, because Moon continued his sentence. “I write and you say the word, right, squeaky mouse?” As if to confirm his words, he clawed your kneecap, fishing a squeal.
You didn’t answer right away, the squeezes became more and more quicker.
“Ok, ok!!” Kicks did nothing to dislodge the attack, and by the way Moon snickered, he knew very well that. Laughter began bubbling once again on your throat. “I agree! I already agrehehehed, stohohop!”
Satisfied, the animatronic relented his tickling, hands not more touching anything.
Strangely enough that only made you feel even more ticklish, tingles and shivers running and spreading everywhere.
“Guess.”
And then they were back.
The tip of his index finger touches your thigh in a straight line, goosebumps following the scribbling as it changed to lay in the middle of the previous straight line only to make another, tiny, tickly, horribly tickly bolts of electricity teasing the nerves as he repeated the sign, over and over again.
“Guess.”
An only finger dancing and tracing your thigh. It shouldn’t be able to tickle so much. It shouldn’t affect you this much. But it was so light. It was so unbearably light and soft. It was

It was a letter.
“Ihihihi! It’s an ‘I’!”
“Yesss.” Moon seemed delighted at the snickers, more than happy to see you playing along the silly game and forgetting the reason for your earlier tears. “Second one. Four letters” He got closer to your knee, but instead of one, now two fingers danced and scratched the sensitive skin, going up - once again in a straight line - before going down and to the right - another line, - repeating the movements thrice before moving to the kneecap, softly tracing circles on it again and again and again and again and-
“Move on!” You could feel the heat creeping on your neck and face, the airy giggles becoming more and more frenetic and uncontrollable as the previous daycare attendant refused to focus his attention elsewhere. He did, however, continue after a few more seconds, not wanting to scramble your thoughts so much. 
Moon lifted your leg just a little bit, just enough for him to reach with no problem behind your knee, pulling his touch downwards before going right up, as if his touch was doing little jumps on the spot, zings and more zings of tickly electricity pulling hints of snorts on your reactions.
Lowering his tracing a bit more he arrived to your calf. One straight line up. One to the right. Go a tad downwards the first line. Another line. More downwards. One more line.
He began repeating the tracing. You felt like all of your other tickle spots were tingling in empathy for the calve’s struggles.
“Lohohove! It’s ‘I love’!” A wheeze escaped from your lips and filled the air. Was he really writing I love you? “That is so chehehesy.”
“Sush, sush, sush, cute teapot.” A couple of squeezes. More kicks in protest. “Third word. Five letters.”
Wait. Five?
Now, Moon moved closer to your ankles, three fingers scribbling and drawing the letters, slipping way too close to your soles for it to be only a mistake. It took him having to ‘write’ the word more three times since your brain simply erased any and every knowledge as soon as he felt those nails scraping the skin of  your ankles.
“Being!” You shouted, once again descending in breathless laughter and squirms when the animatronic confirmed that your guess was right, firmly rubbing and massaging the sensitive skin so that you could get a break and breathe more steadily. 
It took a while before snorts and quiet squeals stopped taking over your voice and your legs stopped tingling and sending shivers across your body. You didn’t even was usually that ticklish on your legs, but the mix of light and soft teases and not being able to see what he would do next making your sensitivity spike to the sky.
The game had a logic, however. Thighs, knees, calves, ankles
 If you weren’t mistaken, then the next one would be

Another ‘zing!’ ran down your spine.
“Last word. Seven letters.”
Seven letters.
I love being

“Wait, wait, wait!” You tried pulling your legs away, but the hands were keeping them nice and cozy in his firm grip. The cloth fell from your eyes and you looked for his, an unstable, pleading grin on your face. “Moon, wait, you know I can’t!” His eyes only squinted more in mischief, smirk growing on his mouth unashamedly. That son of a- “I can’t say it, Moon, please! I swear Moon, I cahahan’t!”
He lifted his hands, fingers wiggling in the air. For a moment you thought that the sentient robot was waving you goodbye since he was about to absolutely kill you dead. But then you heard it.
A faint buzzing, dancing and filling the room.
“No!”
The clawing hand slowly began moving to your feet.
“Last word. Five letters.”
“Don’t you dare!” You had no idea how your voice didn’t break any windows with how high pitched and loud it was, the hysterical, belly laughter already bubbling in the back of your throat as pleas fell like flocks from your lips. “Moon, don’t you dare! No! Come on! Do NOT-”
The buzzing, still discharging small ticklish sparks of electricity touched your sole.
Everything, for a blissful moment, froze.
Then it all came crashing down.
The buzzing filled every single inch of your nerves, tickling in ways that should be illegal, especially as the animatronic - the traitor - began moving to trace the spot as if you could concentrate in the letters being written over all the incoherent babbles and pleas that generously painted the laughter taking over your senses.
You already knew the word that was being written, and was very aware that said one didn’t need all the scratches being delivered to the arch of your feet, or the scribbles that attacked without mercy the balls of your feet and digged under and in between your toes, wiggling and tickling and tickling there without a care in the word.
“I will write it again.” Moon basically purred, sounding too much like the perfect personification of a very smug cat. “Pay attention, gigglebug.”
Before you could protest the fingers were once again traveling across your soles, repeating the attacks and now focusing on all the weak spots they found in their way, fishing plentiful of squeals, squeals, yelps, giggles, titters and snorts in their way.
Everything stayed like that for a few pieces of time. Laughing filling the air, buzzing and tickling taking over every sense. The melodious symphony fulfilling hearts.
And then it stopped.
Moon chuckled, once again rubbing the spot so the ghost tickle feeling would disappear faster, even if your remanent tittering laughter still stretched between you both.
“Did you discover the word?” 
You opened your eyes, wiping a few tears that escaped and trying to look chastising at the robot in front of you, although your burrowed frown didn’t hold any heat, especially with the wide smile still blossoming on your face, shining eyes staring directly at him.
Moon only chuckled more.
“Alright, alright. Troublemaker. But one day you’ll have to admit that you love it.~” 
Before you could answer with a snarky remark, the animatronic surprised you by picking you up and laying down on the couch, letting you rest on his chest.
“Game is not over. One more sentence.” It was an affirmation, but you lived enough with him to recognize the questioning tune in his words.
“No more.” You established.
He grumbled. You were pretty sure that if he could pout, he would.
Silence.
“Gentle tickles
?” 
A sigh left your lungs at the hopeful feeling in his voice.
“
 Sssstarlight?”
And how could you ever say no to that?
“Ok. But only light ones.” You agreed. Because when it came to Sun and Moon you had a piece of butter in the place that should be your heart, as it seems.
Moon began carelessly grazing the tip of his fingers on your back, the tickles just light enough to make one or two giggles jump here and there, a pleasant feeling of comfort and softness spreading and relaxing your muscles, making them melt and a warmth to blossom on your chest.
So caring. So comfortable. So soft

Your mind began drifting away, breaths coming out more steadily, thoughts becoming less and less coherent as the minutes passed by.
You only realized Moon’s plan too late, when your conscience was already slipping away and the tiredness of the day was already catching up.
That freaking cheater.
Well, at least it was probably already late enough that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.
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chiptrillino-art · 1 year ago
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In the Spirit World, roughly 400 years ago.
When you are just a little blue guy. But the greater gods found a liking in you. And then you ended up as chewtoy for Koh.
Spirit shenanegans at their finest.
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crustyfloor · 7 months ago
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I've been thinking a lot about dancing as a form of possession and keeping, when they dance, to us, it's a physical melody of two, an abstract form of intimacy, to them it's also a way to get a message across.
Dancing in the way that HyunA's is Luka's and only Luka's to have, dancing in the way that Till is Ivan's to want and keep close, dancing in the way that Sua and her memory is Mizi's to keep and hold for her eternity
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aunmenosheteroenespanol · 9 months ago
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2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered
Tommy's family arc
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asterwild · 10 months ago
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behold: bears
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ckret2 · 7 months ago
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So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:
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And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.
AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.
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Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.
Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.
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He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.
Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.
He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.
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Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?
He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.
One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.
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Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.
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dilfmas · 27 days ago
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god i genuinely cannot stop thinking about the fact that fadel got told TWICE this episode that he doesn’t have a heart.
fadel, who rationalizes the fact that he’s a killer by telling his brother they only kill bad people, the people that are actually hurting others, the ones that deserve it. fadel, who believes you shouldn’t drive even after one beer because what if you hurt someone? fadel, whose immediate response to getting knocked into at the market is to apologize and get down on the ground to help pick up the mess he didn’t even make. fadel, who can’t possibly refuse to let the guy that’s been annoying him for days on end help him take his groceries home because it’d be rude to the market lady. fadel, who would do anything for his baby brother - would kill, die, and live for him.
and it’s like. god it had to have hurt hearing that from bison. style, he barely knows, but bison basically is his heart. he literally tells bison he doesn’t need anyone else when he has him, everything he does is to protect bison, and then bison throws it back in his face and says he has a cold, dead thing in his chest.
and style, style says it after the scene in the sauna, despite the fact that he is basically pulling fadel’s heart out of his chest and making him stare at it. he’s holding fadel’s heart in his hands and saying it doesn’t exist. like!!!! LIKE!!!!!!!
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th3e-m4ng0 · 2 months ago
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How do you draw the bodies? I know you made a tutorial on how to draw the helms, but I’ve just gotten into transformers and I’m struggling with the mechs😭
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i made this in advance LOL hope it helps
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cubbihue · 4 months ago
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How do you think Dev would react to the information that Peri’s older brother is actually the one writing Da Rules? Peri’s whole family is trying to thwart him fr
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Sound like he’s very peeved about it! Da Rules has been a thorn to Dev’s side ever since he couldn’t wish his teacher to stop wearing the obnoxious bedazzled glasses he wore on fashion day during spirit week.
Because apparently, it's against Da Rules to wish someone's glasses away if its a fashion statement.
Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months ago
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hope you feel better soon!
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I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!
#ask#non mdzs#My health journey has been: Hernia -> acid reflux -> Vocal pain due to aforementioned reflux -> chest infection.#I'm terrified to know what's about to hit me next. Please let it be something kind. PLEASE.#The consequence of living with linguists is that you'll wake up with a wacked up voice -#suddenly you're sitting you down in front of a program called something like Praat having your shimmer and jitter levels calibrated.#They gave me a GRBAS of 33012. I have a fun thing called a pitch break where a whole octave just does not exist.#My vocal pain was bad enough I ended up seeing a speech pathologist and that whole experience was super neat!#I learnt a lot about voice - to be honest I might make a little comic on it after some more research. Fascinating stuff.#For example; your mental perception of our voice modulates the muscles of the vocal folds and larynx.#meaning that when you do have changes (inflammation = more mass = lower frequency)#your brain automatically attempts to correct it to what it 'should sound like'. Leading to a lot more vocal strain and damage!#And it gets really interesting for trans voice care as well - because the mental perception of one's voice isn't based on an existing sampl#So a good chunk of trans voice training is also done with the idea of finding one's voice and retraining the brain to accept it. Neat!#Parkinsonial Voice also has this perception to musculature link! The perception is that they are talking at a loud/normal volume#but the actual voice is quite breathy and weak. So vocal training works on practicing putting more effort into the voice#and retraining the brain to accept the 'loud' voice as 'normal'.#Isn't the human body fascinating?#Anyhow; Now I have vocal exercises and strategies to reduce strain and promote healing.#Which is a lot better than my previous strategy of yelling AAAH in my car until my 'voice smoothed out'.#You can imagine the horror on the speech path's face. I am an informed creature now.#I'm my own little lab rat now. I love learning and researching. Welcome to my tag lab. Class is dismissed.#I'll be back later with a few more answered asks </3 despite everything I'm still going to work and I need the extra sleep.#Thank you for the well wishes! And if you read all of that info dump; thank you for that as well!
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learnelle · 2 years ago
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I just love these pictures of Sylvia Plath. ❀
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ophiia · 4 months ago
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Truly wanna know what the authors of some of those huge billford fics are doing. Like the ones written in 2016. Personally you'd have to institutionalize me.
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pintura · 1 day ago
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Lavellan
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14dayswithyou · 11 months ago
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Wait that spicy videos ask tho? 😳 can i be shameless in ur inbox for a lil

100% consensual obvs but UMM—
Angel cockwarming [REDACTED] while he's working and he knows they're getting impatient. But instead of giving them what they want he pulls up one of the more
 intimate recordings on another monitor to keep them distracted with, sound on and everything. 
Still going about his business, but occasionally taunting them, whispering in their ear and holding their chin to make sure they watch themselves getting fucked silly in the video.
"You make the most desperate face here."
"This is my favorite part."
"Imagine how amazing that’ll feel if y’just be good and keep waiting, Angel.”
hehehe >:3c
✩゜ANSWERED: CRYINGGGGG NOT THEIR đŸ“ŻđŸŠ” ASS HAVING THE ENTIRE VIDEO MEMORISED..... T_T /pos
Lots of NSFW under the cut!!
"Y'make the most lewd sound here... Listen." >>>> As he makes you look at the video while pulling you flush against his hips. Probably tries to see if he can recreate that sound as well while he has you sitting nice and snug in his lap.
"Look at how good y'look on my cock. You were practically droolin', angel. You must really like bein' stuffed full, huh?" Cue his smug ass looking down to see if you're making the exact same expression. If not, then they're immediately rocking their hips and gently sucking at the base of your neck.
"My personal cocksleeve always does such a good job. But Y'already know that, don't you? 'Course you do, 'can feel you squeezing around me right now. Y'feel amazing... Fuck." While his warm breath fans over your ear — but other than that, he's barely paying attention to you >:(
Won't let you cum until the video's finished playing and they've got you whining and breathless on his length. Bonus points if you can't stop yourself from rutting/grinding against them.
If you consent, [REDACTED] would probably pull up his webcam and record this session as well while he's typing away on his computer.
Tells you to be patient and sit still while they work, but they're literally not typing?? He's just casually running his hands up and down your thighs?
Some obscure program has been idling on their desktop for the past hour, yet [REDACTED] hasn't moved from his spot against your neck — not has his hands left your chest and aching sex.
Probably makes the excuse of "staying inside you so that his cum doesn't leak out"......... T_T Then hits you with da "You did so well for me, so I'll let you pick. D'ya wanna be full of my cock? Or my cum?"
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gemharvest · 6 months ago
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Hey Karl you think whenever BF or GF just hit Pico with a random hug no matter the circumstance his face just crumbles into the most vulnerable and yearning look and suddenly the hug lasts for 20 minutes because they don't have the heart to pull away when Pico lays his arms around their backs in the most gentle way possible
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(id in alt - do not repost, please ask before using as icon/ banner etc.)
yeag..
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Close-ups of my personal favorite shots LOL. I also really like how Boyf came out here but he's already Huge in the piece so he doesn't need a close-up.
Do you ever think BF and GF get super emotional when he's soft with them? This guy, known for his fuckin' Bite with an attitude developed partially for self-defense, melting at their touch and allowing them to see his more gentle side? Something that nobody else will ever get to see?
The demon and the rapper are nice by default. Boyf can be a bit of a menace and Girlf is not afraid to show her demonic side when necessary, but they're kind to others as a default, maybe even to a fault. Not that Pico doesn't ever show kindness to others, but he's usually prickly and standoffish; his kindness could come off in ways that read almost as passive aggression. And yet, around the two idiots (used affectionately lol) he's like putty in their hands.
Anyways idk what I'm on abt really I just think if you gave him the choice he would literally melt into their embraces. Safe, and protected in their arms; for once, he isn't the one who has to do the protecting. I think the worst part of a hug to him would be having to let go.
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hiimbloblos · 1 year ago
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Everything that promotes LGBT will now be banned: a rainbow without a light blue stripe, all kinds of themed patches, badges on clothes, as well as parades, processions, rallies and themed parties.
For that - up to 12 years in prison.
Hi! What! Literal murder can get you 2 to 8 years in prison. Killing a man gives you less years! Hello! Can anybody fucking hear me!
Updating this post because. WELL. If anyone, ANYONE supports LGBTQIA in here. Even if they're the straightest people ever. THEY FALL UNDER THE SAME CATEGORY. LGBTQIA ALLIES ARE CONSIDERED EXTREMISTS TOO.
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Moreover, everyone could get in trouble - even if the person isn't an activist or part of LGBTQ, but speaks out that LGBTQ people must have equal rights with everyone else.
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You can get in trouble for a LGBTQ-symbolic repost from 10 years ago - if the policemen can capture it after Supreme Court's decision will take effect.
And another update: this "law" will only be valid after January 10, 2024
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The court decision will come into force on January 10 of the following year - unless an appeal is filed.
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