#Like if youre hypersensitive to every thing people say to you its probably because you have a fundamental wound

[noisytenant]

look im not a professional but i get the sense that a lot of rejection sensitive dysphoria could be managed better with cptsd coping skills

[velvetporcelain]

I’m divorcing pain and committing to pleasure

Today seems— odd- I don’t really have anything to say but you know me void, I have tons of backlog hidden deep within my membrane.

Any thing, any thought could send me down the most dangerous or most beautiful of wells. It no longer scares me because I have proven to myself time and time again, that I can swim. I can swim well.

I love indulging in this beautiful game we call thought. I don’t think most people do because they are hypersensitive to their own minds. Which brings me to the ultimate question-

Does work indeed set your free? Does it confine the mind with boundaries? Invisible margins do not set us free, we only like to think that they do. I understand that “free thinking” may be considered a privilege to some, but I would have to disagree solely based on the fact that all humans have the ability to think.

Materialistic things are easy to achieve. Mentality is not. Thinking intentionally is not. I push the boundaries of the mind by simply implying what else there could be. Endless possibilities. One’s man’s trashy thoughts are certainly my treasure. Bending the perception into perspective with just a few “what if’s.”

Watching your child grow into an adult is probably one of the most terrifying things I have ever witnessed. Throwing them out into the oblivion in hopes that you have prepared them with the correct amount of “facts” and the correct amount of “opinions.” Hoping they jump at every opportunity they have to live life. Cultivating a mind is the biggest responsibility I have ever had, and ever will have. Sorting what services them and what does not. Thinking about the human race in its entirety. Preparing them for love and for war. What a contrary concept.

Today’s house hold chores did not limit the amount of thinking I did today. In fact, it allows me to think deeper. It gives my hands something to do which keeps my brain alive. Have you ever heard of drawing randomly on paper while you are reading something? To keep the stimulation going on both spheres, or else you will lull your mind to sleep.

Today I was thinking much about pain and how we tend to gravitate towards it because it seems much more relatable than pleasure nowadays. So I decided to become impeccable to my word. Counteracting pain with pleasure, because they are the opposite and equal reaction of one another.

If you have experienced pleasure with another human and after you have disconnected why do the memories bring you pain? Because we long to stay in pleasure. We can most certainly apply a great lesson to these memories without over analyzing what we could have done differently. That is extremely transformative and will also bring you great pleasure.

Acceptance can be a bitch, yes. Sometimes we are left with many unanswered questions and Hines sight tends to not do any justice for the past, only for the present and future.

I am so glad I have had the chance to experience grief and pain in this way. It now has set the bar of pleasure for me. Confidently considering what my next move would be.

I hope you consider countering your painful memories with the knowledge and power that you have now, where it really matters, and are able to transform them into something so meaningful and memorable that you are able to thank it and give it a proper burial.

-x

[bandofchimeras]

PDA stuff & long diary life update for those who care!

started sort of arguing with a popular neurodivergency Twitter person (not really, but got defensive) over the idea of PDA being a myth or a grab bag for those of us with severe burnout, etc. I'm open to not being CORRECT on this, but personally I've found both good and bad things in the diagnosis, the label, and community self-understanding, as with any diagnosis....its all based on a pretty flawed and pathologizing system. so why attack PDA in particular?

anyhow, on a personal level, today I stayed up into my natural noctural habitat to chop vegetables and make borscht. its a long, tedious process at my rate, and took two days + leaving the vegetables out overnight to do, but now its done! and yummy healthful soup for the rest of the week. :)

I'm slowly chipping away at rebuilding life and haven't tackled doctors, dentists, pharmacist, therapist aspect yet because of feeling vaguely unsure about where I will actually end up living once this couchsurfing period is over. its such an ordeal I don't want to repeat it again....but my teeth need urgent care, and meds are gonna be essential for any kind of work. which i've also been avoiding.... February is historically the hardest month for me to get thru. every year. have delved into other things astrologically but February...well I guess natal Uranus square Venus, Sun and North Node/Pluto plus oppositon Mars....that's a rough transit. But its probably the weather. Okay on to the PDA/ADHD/sensory/wtf bullshit I wanted to write about:

today I slowed wayyyyy down and just noticed in my body where and when resistance came up. It was a huge dark spirally last few days, but today had a few breakthroughs of being honest when my anxiety tempted me to lie/hide, saying no to somebody instead of people pleasing, and calming down before calling my mom, and actually having a pleasant chat.

also addressed the Cat Peeing on Everything issue in a multitude of ways. I felt much stronger in my self-acceptance despite the realization last night that my joints have deteriorated to the point carrying grocery bags disolates them! my life is pretty boring and I'm sort of floating along with no direction, but today instead of spiralling about it, I used the role-play technique to coach myself into a new mindset of "maybe you are not ready to find your purpose yet, just focus on getting the basics down" AND I noticed when my avoidance was coming from sensory needs! and tried to address them before making the demand. it worked pretty decently (turns out when i'm cold i will Not be able to move my body until until its warm??) A huge Axis of PDA is our intense willpower and drive to conform, fit in, understand, mask, etc. among people who are not us, and not like us. I appreciate this about PDAers, this will to understand and adapt, and the determination to succeed despite all setbacks. however, I think due to our slower processing speed, with the demand avoidance interference, we often miss the "steps" involved in success. there may also be some wilful delusion - if they can do it I can do it! that comes from being hypersensitive to the opinions of an ableist collective. so this week for me, i was feeling the weight of "not and never will be enough" and comparison to others. however, deactivating my facebook and slowing down to make soup, going on a sunshine walk, supple,ents, using the happy light, and starting to practice responding at least a little more compassionately but firmly to my own meltdowns....its working. i just have to release the need to do everything, everywhere, all at once. PDAers are characterized by a strong will to not only live, but to feed, to grow, to expand, to be competent. full of ideas and desires!! Unfortunately we often do not receive the accommodations necessary to actually do so or develop missing skills bc of being good at masking, or our disability being demonized as willful, selfish and in need of "breaking" this can be very heartbreaking - but as today showed me in my roommate's gracious reaction to a talk I was very scared to have with them - when you find someone who does accommodate and understand, and are willing, able, and open to connect with them, it is also heart healing. our struggles are an opportunity to exercise deep self acceptance and love for the Self despite physical limitations and inabilities!!! or they can be in the right environment. that's my thoughts for now, now its really past time to go to bed and have wild near lucid dreams again. goodnight!!

.

[tennessoui]

49!!!!!! Please

finally!!!! baby, finally!!!!

49. Boss/Intern (35yo!Boss!Anakin, 19yo!Intern!Obi-Wan)

(2.4k)

Obi-Wan rubs his hands rapidly down his face. He feels distinctly like he’s about to burst into tears, which would be a very bad thing to do here and now. His supervisor had come in fifteen minutes ago to tell him everyone was going to lunch. She’d invited him along, but he’d said no.

He always says no.

Lunch for the rest of the office means he gets to have a scheduled breakdown at his little cubicle.

He just. He just doesn’t know anything.

He’s only had this internship at Temple Tech for one week and already he’s floundered and fucked up more than anyone else probably has put together in their lifetimes.

He shouldn’t have ever applied, but he had been getting so desperate for summer employment, any sort of employment and, yes, this internship was out of his career field, and yes, he did have to lie at least five times on his resume, but it was an internship and it was paid.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. But then he actually got the job by some stroke of hellish luck, and he’s been learning every day since that it was actually probably a terrible idea. The learning curve is too steep. Obi-Wan is trying, but wow is he bad at it. Tech. Data stuff.

On his open computer, the sound of an email pinging rushes through his ears and he takes his hands off of his face to look. It’s from Anakin Skywalker. The boss.

Obi-Wan thinks he can feel his fingers grow numb. His heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest, like it’s about to stop once and for all.

Temple Tech is a start-up company, still small but growing quickly. At its head is thirty-five year old Anakin Skywalker, which shouldn’t be any sort of a problem because Obi-Wan’s nineteen now and he can keep it in his pants, even if Anakin is hot as hell, smart as well, and so terribly kind whenever they run into each other.

Which happens a lot. Because it’s a small company, operating out of one renovated warehouse turned office. The floor plan is open enough that Obi-Wan’s able to see Anakin’s space--he gets a proper office, as part of being the boss, but he’s chosen to make the walls glass so it doesn’t feel as if he’s cut off from everyone else--from across the room. And Anakin is big on making everyone who works with him feel like family. A lot of companies say they do that or support that, but Anakin actually does. For one thing, he tells them to call him Anakin, not Mr. Skywalker. For another, he’s open about his personal life, but not so much that it makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

He’s quick with a smile and so understanding, and if he ever gets mad—and from his stories of his younger days, Obi-Wan knows he must have a temper—it’s never been in public.

And Anakin has never commented on how often Obi-Wan blushes around him, or how hard it is for him to focus on his work if Anakin sits on the edge of his desk to talk with him. Or any of the other employees, Obi-Wan has had to remind himself many times. Even though Obi-Wan feels hypersensitive and like a schoolgirl whenever Anakin is in his general vicinity, Anakin is a professional. He’s Obi-Wan’s boss. Nothing could ever happen between them. Not while Obi-Wan works under Anakin.

Even if Anakin is so nice and so kind and has asked to meet him now when everyone else is out of the building. It’s not suspicious and it’s definitely not cause for concern of any kind.

He thinks about shooting back an email, confirming it, but he’s never been good at the whole office environment thing. Instead, he logs off his computer and stands up.

It’s a short walk to Anakin’s office, hardly enough time for his palms to get sweaty.

Anakin’s typing something when Obi-Wan enters the room and he looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, aghast when he realizes he’s forgotten to knock. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Obi-Wan, come in, please,” Anakin gives him a slight smile and gestures for him to sit on the couch next to his desk. Obi-Wan takes a seat hesitantly. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

Anakin types for a few more seconds on his computer before pushing away from his desk all together and taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

“I’ve noticed you never go out to lunch with your coworkers,” Anakin says, positioning himself so he’s facing Obi-Wan completely. His body language is open, like he’s read one of those business books on how to sit so everyone knows you’re nice but you have an agenda.

It puts Obi-Wan on edge, and he fidgets around on his seat.

“You’re not in trouble, b--Obi-Wan,” his boss murmurs. “I just want to know why. Do you not like them? Have they been mean to you?”

“No!” Obi-Wan denies immediately, looking up at Anakin and biting his lip when he sees that the man’s attention is fixed so squarely on him. “No, of course not. Everyone here has been amazing.” He widens his eyes and raises both eyebrows. “Really, sir.”

Anakin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” he criticizes, and Obi-Wan blushes more.

He’s really messing this up.

“Sorry, sir, I mean. Anakin. Sorry. Anakin,” he coughs. His palms are sweaty. He’s sitting on his attractive boss’s couch when everyone’s gone on lunch, and his palms are sweaty.

He doesn’t even want anything to happen.

Alright, so that’s a lie. He definitely has spent a lot of late nights thinking about something happening between them, just like this, but those are fantasies and Anakin is his boss. More than that, Anakin is a good man. He’d never take advantage of an intern in that way, no matter how frequently Obi-Wan feels as if he’s walking around with a sign around his neck that says, Take Advantage of Me, Mr. Anakin, Sir!

“Why don’t you go to lunch with them, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks softly, gently.

Obi-Wan’s hands clench down on themselves. It’s really the moment of truth, now. He really can’t keep lying, not when Anakin sounds so concerned. He has no right to be concerned! He shouldn’t care about Obi-Wan at all; hell, he shouldn’t even know him!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, staring down at the stretch of fabric on his knees.

Anakin hums. Obi-Wan wonders if he learned that from his fancy How to Run a Business books as well: don’t say anything, just let the other person talk until you know everything you need to know to crush them.

Damn if the silence doesn’t work to get Obi-Wan speaking again though.

“I...I’m behind on the work,” he admits. “I don’t have time to go to lunch because I need to figure out how to do my work.”

Anakin makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. “If...if your workload is too heavy, Obi-Wan, we can look into cutting it. I don’t want to be known as the company that runs its interns into the ground.”

Obi-Wan’s throat tightens too much and he shrugs. He can’t cry. He really shouldn’t cry. He did this to himself. “It wouldn’t help,” he whispers.

“What?” Anakin asks, leaning forward to hear him better.

“It wouldn’t help,” Obi-Wan says again, louder this time. Anakin blinks at him, and Obi-Wan finally tells him the truth. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I...I lied on my resume. I needed a job, for my student visa. I needed the money to keep it while not in school. And...and internships are supposed to look good on your resume, so I...I thought I could figure it out, I’m smart, sir, I’m so smart. I don’t know why I can’t figure it out.”

He drops his gaze to his hands again and breathes out shakily. He’d been carrying the weight of that secret for far longer than he should have been. It should have been a relief of the utmost degree to give it away. But instead he’s waiting for the punishment. Anakin will have to fire him now. Anakin might even get mad at him for lying.

When his boss doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, Obi-Wan chances a glance up at him through his lashes. Instead of anger on his face, there’s only a confused sort of sympathy.

“I’m...not sure I understand, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly. “You lied on your resume to get this internship, but...why couldn’t you have just applied to an internship in a different field? One you actually want to study? I know you like biology, you’ve told me more about biology in the past few weeks than you’ve told me about yourself.”

“None of them wanted me,” Obi-Wan sniffles and hates himself for it. “I tried, I promise. I promise I didn’t want to lie, but I needed the money, and this internship paid so much better than working at a coffeehouse would.”

Anakin puts his hand gently on his shoulder and Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from turning into the pressure of it. “It’s alright,” Anakin murmurs. “Oh no, please don’t--please don’t cry, b--Obi.”

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan wails.

Anakin hushs him. “Alright, Obi-Wan, alright. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You’re going to fire me,” he says with absolute certainty. He doesn’t even much like his job at Temple Tech, but how is he supposed to find another one on such short notice?

Anakin is quiet. He doesn’t say no.

“Look, I’ll try harder, I promise,” Obi-Wan stutters out, turning to look up at Anakin with wet eyes. What a picture he must make. Nothing professional about him at all. Nothing worth keeping around either. “I promise, please, don’t--I’ll--I’ll stay after hours, I’ll work late, come early. I need this job, sir.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely regretful, which is little comfort. “Obi-Wan, it’s not about...your work ethic. I promise, your work ethic is stronger and better than most of the people on my team.”

Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes hastily. He knows there’s a but coming soon.

“But I can’t...if you’ve lied on your resume, you can’t put Temple Tech there later. That’s not fair for anyone else who applied and was rejected in favor of you. The spot you have...I need someone there who knows what they’re doing with computers. Who wants to be there. Obi, it makes sense that you don’t know anything about tech. You never look like you really want to be here unless you’re talking to someone else.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles and he can feel another wave of tears coming. “I understand, sir,” he mumbles, standing up and preparing to leave the office and Anakin Skywalker behind forever. He’s never been fired before. He doesn’t know what the decorum really is in this situation.

Being tugged back and into his boss’ arms doesn’t feel like how it normally goes, though.

But he can’t resist melting into Anakin’s tight hug, rubbing his cheek on the man’s nice shirt. He wants to give him something to remember him by, even if it’s just tear stains on expensive cotton.

“Lemme help you,” Anakin suddenly says, voice very gruff. Obi-Wan freezes in his arms and tilts his head to try and see Anakin’s face. Help him?

“I don’t understand,” he admits, biting his lip.

“I like you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses. “I do. I’ll be sad to see you leave. I was already going to be sad to see you leave when your internship concluded, but this is much sooner. I…”

He trails off as if trying to make up his mind. It doesn’t take him long to nod to himself.

“Be honest,” he warns him, but there’s a joking lilt to his voice. Obi-Wan, personally, thinks that’s a little too soon. “Do you know how to clean house?”

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin’s arms to stare at him.

“Or walk dogs,” Anakin adds.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nods. Cleaning up a house and walking dogs feels like something he can figure out how to do. Feels pretty self-explanatory for the most part. The only thing he’s confused by is why Anakin is asking this of him.

“Would you...that is, just for the rest of the summer, until your classes start again--how would you feel about cleaning my house? And walking my dogs?” Anakin seems to hold his breath.

Obi-Wan feels like he’s stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.

“You’re...firing me,” he says slowly. “But...you’re offering me a job? As your….maid?”

“‘We should call it housekeeper,” Anakin says quickly, a pained look flashing across his face. “Too...many connotations with maid.”

“Why?” he has to ask. “I mean. I lied to you, sir. I...you’re firing me.”

“Because I need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing,” Anakin explains slowly.

“Do you want me in another position, sir?” Obi-Wan asks. He blushes furiously as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Anakin’s eyes darken and he clears his throat. He doesn’t say no, and his silence, the double entendre of his silence, makes the breath catch in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“You said you needed money to keep your visa,” Anakin says. “I’m trying to offer you an honest means of employment. I need someone to keep up my house and walk my dogs. If you can do it, I’d hire you over anyone else in a second.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan whispers, suddenly so very aware of how close they’re still standing to each other, how nice Anakin smells, how handsome he looks with just the beginning of a silver streak at his temple.

Anakin sweeps his gaze over Obi-Wan’s face and chest, and Obi-Wan has to wonder what he sees there. Whatever he does, he must like because he smirks. “Work ethic,” he murmurs.

[allegra-writes]

Fireproof

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut; Sex pollen.

The request:

This is for @idiosadeoro who wanted Virgin!Peter, hypersensitive cause of his spider sense, and the bunch of anons who wanted Sex pollen/Fuck or die. Hope this caters to your tastes. Preparing for Halloween, this is the most fucked up thing I wrote so far 😘

Also, Infinity war? Endgame?? NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

MY MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

You were so fired.

So fucking fired.

That was the only thought going through your mind, on repeat as you made your way to the med bay. You tried to focus on that, because if you were to think even for one second about what you were about to do, you'd never be able to go through with it.

With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you punched the code in the security panel and watched the light go green. This was it, your moment of truth. You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Peter knew it was you even before you spoke, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the stale air inside the bay was suddenly electrified, every one of his senses coming alive. He wished he could blame the god damned pollen, but he had long before memorized the cadence of your footsteps, the smell of your perfume. He could recognize your heartbeat in a room full of people. The truth was he had had the most desperate, hopeless crush on you from the very moment Tony had showed up in the lab with you in tow, and announced the two of you would be working together.

On a normal day, he had enough trouble controlling himself around you enough not to blurt out his feelings, but now, with the freaky alien sex pollen stuff in his system?..

“Peter?”

He feigned sleep where he was on the gurney, refusing to open his eyes. If he so much as saw your pretty face, his control would snap, he just knew it. You stepped closer.

“Y/n, it’s not a good idea for you to be here right now” he tried to warn you, but you kept on coming closer, he could feel the heat coming out of your body even feet away, every pore of his skin opening to soak up your warmth. You were saying something, and he should probably listen but you were way too close now, a whiff of your scent, flowery and sweet and female reaching his nose.

Before you could blink, he had you pinned against the wall, every inch of his firm, lithe but muscular body pressed against yours, hard planes against soft curves.

“I mean it, y/n, it’s extremely dangerous for you to be in the same room as me until Mr. Stark comes up with an antidote” His nose was practically touching yours, his breath hot against your face.

And you could actually see it, the danger he was talking about. It was there, in his eyes, the raw hunger, the barely contained desire. It made shivers run down your spine, cause you knew if he was to loose control, you would be powerless against his super strength.

For the first time ever, you were afraid of Spider-man.

But this was what you had come here for in the first place, wasn’t it? There was no antidote, at least none that would work with his enhanced metabolism. The same metabolism that was processing the alien substance twice as fast. Time was running out, and Steve and Tony were still up in the lab, debating the moral implications of getting Peter an escort.

So you swallowed your fear, and crushed your lips to his.

He returned the kiss right away, tongue parting your lips, forcing his way into your mouth. The sound that left his throat at the first taste of you was not unlike that of a wounded animal. You swallowed it, head spinning, grateful for being trapped between the wall and his body, your knees suddenly to weak to support your own weight.

Your fingers buried themselves in the curls at the back of his head by their own accord, tearing another moan out of him. He released your lips only to latch his to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling with no finesse or technique whatsoever.

“I can’t stop” He was murmuring between kisses, burying his apologies into your skin, “I can’t stop, I’m sorry”

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry Tony even more, but ever since he had gotten covered in that weird pink dust, it had been hard to breath, his lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first taste of your lips, of your tongue, of your spit, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he had had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

He parted your knees with one of his own, thigh rocking against your center.

It made you moan. The very first sound he had coaxed out of you, and it made his blood boil inside his veins. A new scent filled his nose, almost cloyingly sweet. He reclaimed your lips with a growl when he realized he was smelling your arousal.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he ravaged your mouth, the other one popped open the button of your jeans and slid inside to where the heath between your legs was beckoning him. His hands were hot, leaving scorching trails in their wake. One finger found your entrance, diving in, pumping steadily in an out until you were shamelessly moving your hips, riding his hand, chasing your release.

It was embarrassing, you had never come so fast in your life but there was no mistaking the feeling coiling up inside you, tighter and tighter until it had no choice but to explode, making you cry out into Peter’s mouth.

He could have stayed like that until his death, fingers still lazily thrusting inside you, devouring those delicious little sounds from your mouth... But he noticed your hands, a second ago tugging so good at his hair, now on his chest, trying to push him away. It teared him in half, every cell in his body screaming in pain, but he complied, taking a step back. You stumbled a little on your feet.

“Please” He breathed out, voice breaking. He needed you, he would literally die… He could have sob in relief when you got rid of your lab coat and he understood you only wanted to get undressed, but he still had enough presence of mind to stop you.

“No” You met his eyes, confusion clear in your face, “Not here” Not where there were cameras, not where he didn’t even had a proper bed to lie you down. If he was finally going to make you his, he was going to do it right, pollen or not.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that you weren’t his, you were only doing this to save his life, but he pushed it aside, as he picked you up as if you were weightless -for him, you probably were- and took you to the little on-call room right outside the bay at breakneck speed.

He placed you softly on the bed and got rid of his clothes so quickly it had to be a record, before moving to help you out of yours. He covered your body with his perfect one, your skin was so soft, so pliant under his hands, so cool against his own feverish skin, soothing him like a balm, he wanted nothing but to bury himself into you. But he admitted, voice small and shy and so Peter it almost broke your heart.

“I- I have no idea what I’m doing…”

He felt you froze underneath him and leaned back to look at your stunned face.

“You’ve never..?”

He shook his head no.

“But, you and MJ, wasn’t she your girlfriend until like, college?

“She’s ace. I respected that.” He replied simply.

“But, back in the bay, if you've never done… anything, what was that?”

He half shrugged,

“A shot in the dark?”

He was freaking natural, then. And you? You were going to hell.

You just knew it, cause never before you had had an Innocence kink, but Peter “Perfect bubble butt” Parker was a virgin, and you were all for it, licking your lips and planning a thousand different ways to corrupt him before the night was over.

You pushed at his shoulders and he let you manhandle him until he was the one on his back on the mattress, and you were straddling his thick, gorgeous thighs.

He watched you, mesmerized, as you raked your fingernails down his torso, leaving red trails, catching on his nipples, making him hiss. His muscles rippled under your hands as you moved them over his abs, lower and lower, until you wrapped your fingers around his hard, long, angry cock. His groan went straight to your cunt, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this was so wrong, you weren’t like this, you shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, something really weird was going on. But this had stopped being about saving Peter’s life a long time ago.

You pumped your hand once, twice, three times, watching his head trash from side to side. You spat on your other hand and covered the head of his cock with it, caressing it with soft, circular movements that had him sobbing and cursing. It made you feel powerful, hot.

“If my hands feel this good, just imagine how it will feel when you finally get inside me…” You leaned over him to whisper dirtily in his ear, before sucking the lobe into your mouth

“Fuck!.. Yes, please, y/n… please!”

“You want it, don’t you? Want to feel me from the inside… penetrate me, break me in half with your cock…” Where was all this coming from? This was wrong, he wasn’t in his right mind, you weren’t supposed to like it.

“Yes! Please! Yes, I want it, all of it!”

You guided him to your entrance, lowering your self slowly, slowly. He was huge, and you were dripping, yes, but you needed to be careful anyway, you had never taken someone so big.

His hand went to your waist, crying out as his cock disappeared inside you, eyes fixed on the place you and him were joined. You grabbed a hold of one of his wrists, guiding his hand to one of your breasts as you started moving up and down, riding him.

“Oh God!..”

“Tell me,” you demanded, already breathing hard, he was filling you up so good, touching all the right places deep inside you, “Tell me how does it feel to be inside me”

“Hot… so wet… so tight… you feel like...” He stopped, looking up at you through half lidded eyes.

“Like what?” You urged him on, “Tell me, Peter”

“You feel like you’re mine”

Your walls contracted around him at his words, a wave of pleasure washing over you. His other hand returned to your waist and he started moving you faster up and down his cock.

“Yes, like that, show me how you like it” You were delirious, your own hand tugging at your hair, “make me yours, Peter!”

He started to buck his hips up, trying to get even deeper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit just right every time he bottomed out and your second orgasm of the night started to build.

“Gonna come inside this pretty pussy” He let out under his breath, and you didn’t know if he was talking to you or to himself, “Then, I’m going to turned you around on your hands and knees, enter your pussy from behind, not even gonna stop. Gonna make you come on my cock over and over and over…” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust, until your walls were squeezing him again, and you were screaming your release. A couple thrusts later, and you felt him coming as well, coating your insides with his hot seed.

True to his word, he flipped you over, burying his cock in your oversensitized cunt again, fucking you through the aftershocks, prolonging your pleasure until you were a moaning, trembling mess. And he wasn’t even slowing down.

“I wanted you… since the first moment I saw you” he confessed, leaning over your back to kiss your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly sweet for the way he was taking you, so raw and animalistic. “You were wearing that pink skirt… and I wanted… wanted to bend you over the lab table and have my way with you…”

Dizzily, you reached behind you to grab a handful of his hair, and turned your head to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy. He loved it.

“This is close enough” He sighed when you broke the kiss, resting his forehead on your shoulder, hips slapping against your ass loudly.

You interrupted the steady stream of “Uh… uh…uh” leaving your throat to try and say,

“I don’t know… we could… still do it in the lab… later…”

“Fuck, you’re perfect!” He moaned against your back, before grabbing hold of your hips again, pounding into you faster than any normal boy could ever do.

…

You passed out somewhere between round five and six, not before giving him express permission to use your body as much as he needed to burn the fucking -ha- pollen out of his system.

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, sated, relaxed and completely spent, when he heard the buzzing coming from your jeans, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! How are you, please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It doesn’t only messes your hormones up, it messes with hers too with every fluid exchange!”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance still fucking up his brain, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as terrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

To be continued...

Buy me a coffee

[scrawnytreedemon]

Well, would you look at the clock! Look’s like it’s time to talk about shit no one really cares abouthgjkhdgjhkghkjgd

Right, so there’s someone I follow, and like, within the past couple minutes to an hour, the topic of that TV Tropes post(you know the one) that was floating around came up. They found the whole idea of it to be absurd, and thus used their Divinely Ordained right to complain about it on Tumblr dot com-- God bless.

Because I, unfortunately, am a sensitive little scringle prone to head-arguments, and some of this rubbed me the wrong way a little, I wish to Speak Of It.

I guess I wish to start off with the premise that @/headspace-hotel posited: that Tv Tropes can be an amazing writing resource. I find this statement hyperbolic, personally, but I think there is some merit to the idea.

One thing I love about Tv Tropes is that it puts everything on the same level-- This format is very good for finding specific, niche little things, and applying that to Anything and Everything. This inevitably leads to the issue of over-application, but even that I find has its own worth? In the sense that it can get you to reframe something, even if you don’t agree with the conclusion, and make you go “oh, but what if?“-- It’s that rush I got as a small child at the idea of “Everything is Connected!!! :0000”, but with stories! The Great Gatsby and Care Bears are placed on the same level, for better and for worse, and that can lead to some interesting parallels.

I think this is what the original post was about, and not “TvT is a flawless resource to get The Technique of Writing and Analysis from”-- Few people would argue that. It’s just a neat tool of comparison, and like anything else, if you find an effective way to use it, a powerful one. Catergorising Everything, without necessarily saying whether its Good or Bad(barring catergories like “Narm” that inherently contain aspects of deemed poor execution) leaves you to derive your own judgement-- Just because two properties Have A Thing, that doesn’t mean the Thing is what makes one good-- It’s about execution, and quite frankly, I think that’s why explicit negative judgement and merit-based catergorisation was foregone.

That being said, my experience with Tv Tropes is going on there every couple months for a good romp, seeing how the users classify some of my favourite media, whether I agree or not, getting hit with an “Oh!” moment that provides some inspiration, and then running merrily off to whatever I was doing before that. I don’t keep up with the social aspect, like the moderators’ shenanigans or even the forum-- I’m just here to browse, and move along.

And I don’t find it particularly pleasant to reblog “I WILL LAUGH IN YOUR FACE IF YOU USE TV TROPES AS A WRITING RESOURCE“ three times in a row; even barring the scorn, what counts as a ‘writing resource‘? Because you can use anything, and I mean anything-- It’s all about utility. Screwdrivers weren’t meant to open drawers, but if the situation calls for it, you can do that. Maybe I’m Cringe, but I find it admirable more than anything to use something silly and perhaps low-brow to your advantage-- And if that’s the case, then have at it!

I want to be charitable here and acknowledge that the person here is someone who’s been inundated with fandom BS for years and years-- And of one particularly irritating variety, no less --They’re jaded, and probably tired of “hot takes“ like these making the rounds on fandom Tumblr without fail. I can understand that.

But at the end of the day... come on, man. What’s your damage?

As a footnote, because while I doubt this will gain any traction, you never fucking know with this website, I am not interested in starting an argument. At all. Reblog this if you want-- Maybe you have similar feelings, I don’t know-- But just, don’t fucking start shit. If you’re guessing who it is, keep it to yourself. Again, no interest in shit-slinging. I’m a hypersensitive weenie on a Soap Box with Thoughts and zero influence, and I’d rather it stay that way.

[an-jae]

Types of reactions to new music videos.

Everytime a new mv releases its all of our buddies hyping up and prepping up to tune to it. It may be our favourite artist or any new one or not, we are always eager to listen the new releases. But it's after the release, when the balloon bursts allowing a set of different reactions to the same content. So let's try to list out these types of reactions to a new mv.

1. Stans: These are crazy fans who lose their mind on the release of a new mv of their faves. They always keep up with their music and they are one of the firsts to always buy their albums. They don't just listen to their songs, they live it. They mediate to each lyric and don't just ever dare to interrupt them. When they listen to music, they just sink into it and if you dare to disturb them then they will drown you to death. Their calls are obvious on your phone informing you about new releases. They publicize and promote their artists more than the artists themselves. And after the very day, the only song you hear them sing or play in car, at party , or anywhere is only the new one. They are freaking dedicated and they are pure Stans.

2. Neutrals or Random scrollers: These are not stans or haters. They are just random people scrolling randomly through videos to not be bored. Then they find the new thing that they don't disapprove but not appreciate either. They just want stuff to watch and not sit idlely . Their reaction is even neutral. Firstly they don't immerse into the video at once only. It takes them a few times to watch and realise the content. Then that's when they react after wards. So their first reaction is always neutral. They don't like the video or dislike it. Either they become a Stan or a hater that happens later . They are even the ones who most probably don't know who they are watching. They are the ones who Google about what they watched to realise the existence of different famous people aka celebrities.

3. Haters: They are the ones to check out the videos just to write hate comments. They don't like the artist, they arenot excited about their music . Why do they even check out the videos? This is a very unpleasant category wher people just wanna write mean things. These guys need to understand that when you hate someone , you are supposed to stay away and avoid them, not to prickle them. But they are just mean peoe who love to spread hate and betrayal. You may not support them but it's not like you should discourage them. You maybe critic but not an Enemy.

4. Commenters:They are the ones who have got no concern with the artist, the topic , the issue or anything. All they have to do is believe be that their opinion is of utter importance for all the vloggers or every being on the earth. They watch the video to extend their unwanted opinions about the thing. No one wants to hear in their critique, no one gives a shit about they think, no one is interested at all. There are the ones who just want to object the background, tunes , the costume or everything. They point out the minute details for freaking vain. No one's working out the problems they pinpointed. They can point out the things that arenot even a problem at all. Their addiction or obsession for commentary can go beyond all extends. Because they won't just shut up. Their mouth is never close, they are just never tired. They can obviously be irritating at times because unnecessary advices are very unwelcomed and unrecieved.

5. Sadist: This is not so common type of people seen. They are usually the ones who are hypersensitive and most cliché reason is they broke up and are way more than just upset. Their behaviour is understandable to a certain extend. But the same sadist reaction to every song is definitely awkward. They won't hesitate to cry even on party peppy singles. Like yeah, you guys have broke up but your obsession with breakup is an headache. Every love, party , rap, rock, classic even explicit songs can even make them tear up. They believe to remember the things with their past love what the song says. This is surely the most immature category and sometimes too melodramatic.

6. Detached: This is a type which may not be counted as a type either. Because their presence is same as their absence. These are not humans , they have no emotions and no expressions. You can play a pop, rock, jazz, classic, rap or anything but they'd continue to remain cold as they always are . But they believe their best reaction is that detached one only. They are the worst person to ask for advices when it comes to songs because they hardly know any. Not a single hair on their skin moves when there's even Beyonce's playing. Either they are not humans or they are surely not humans.

Do lemme know if I missed out any type.

#forbiddenpersona.........

[puppy-phum]

for the character ask...OUR FAV BOY LIU SANG

(*´∇｀*)/💖

i had to come answer this one bc!! my son!!!! aaaaaaahhhh!!!!!! so thank you sob now i can talk about my second sour grape boy,,, wait. ok well, hissy kitten  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  spot the difference (you can’t)

give me a character

(placing this one under a cut too bc oh boy. i have things to say about liu sang)

How I feel about this character

Good lord. I feel so many ways about Liu Sang. He is absolutely amazing but he also just drives me insane every day. No other character has ever given me such headaches, he must be proud. Finally someone suffers as much as him (because I bet those ears cause him a permanent migraine). I feel sorry for him. I’ll take this pain gladly if it helps him in any way. 

But well. As simply as with Jiang Cheng, I do love Liu Sang. I shouldn’t really be surprised (at this point) that I fell in love with him but back when I was watching Reboot, he hit me like a truck. Which,,, he probably drove that truck himself, judging from the way he was handling the car chase with Jiang Zisuan. Just ruthlessly drove me over. I never stood a chance, not in front of that arrogance and stubbornness and enormous puppy eyes. 

And with all of himself, good and bad, he makes me feel so many things. One of those, probably the strongest one, is protectiveness. He needs someone to protect him from himself because he has a nasty self-destruction streak going. Boy has not known love since he was born. He has gone through way too much to try handle it alone. I can’t even remember how old he is supposed to be in Reboot (maybe 29?), but that is way too many years of fighting a battle he was never supposed to win. But he pulled through. Cynical and prickly and absolutely terrified of any human contact but he fucking pulled through. I want to fight some battles for him now. He deserves to rest. He deserves some peace and quiet and unconditional care. I want to tell him that he doesn’t deserve all the pain he’s going through, all the pain he himself is putting his body through because he thinks he can only be used as a punching bag. I want to tell him he deserves friends. I want to tell him that it’s okay to trust people again. I want to... just protect him. And maybe this is why – because of all this fragile mess I’ve discovered from inside of him while trying to figure out who he is – I struggle so much with writing him. I feel like I’m bringing up things no one is supposed to see. I feel like I’m pulling out words from him like teeth. But at the same time, I know he’s desperate to tell these things. 

So I struggle because I love him. Willingly. But oh boy does he annoy me sometimes, under all that protectiveness and fondness I have for him.  

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I am quite sure at this point that I don’t really ship Liu Sang with anyone. No one clicks with him in my head so well that I could feel myself slipping into the proper shipping territory. But I haven’t minded any of the ships I’ve seen for him, not Pingxiesang (which makes me super soft) or him with Kanjian (which is so sweet) or even @kholran’s pool noodle Risang (which is very interesting and I will read your fic, friend, when I am out of my Pingxie pit! I just need to feed these beasts first). I am mostly just very intrigued by all these ships people come up with because it really plays to my wish to just explore his dynamic with every other character that is available for him. 

But to put it simply: Not one perfect match exists for him yet in my head. Let’s give boy some time to figure out freindships first. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Well, this one I love because! This is what he is all about for me, somehow. So I will mention three: Xiaoge, Bai Haotian, and Pangzi. 

First, like I already mentioned in my Xiaoge answer, I adore Liu Sang’s dynamic with his ouxiang. They are both so damn awkward. I feel like I’m following a train wreck happening in slow motion any time I see them interact but instead of death and flames and screeching metal, it’s. surprisingly soft and sweet? They are both very tentative when it comes to people so they somehow get each other? Even if Liu Sang is a mess when it comes to Xiaoge which I totally get because I have once in my life met a person I consider a celebrity and who I look up to a lot and I was just shaking. And giggling. And acting dumbly. So I don’t blame Liu Sang for any of that; I’m actually quite proud that he’s keeping his cool so well and despite the rough start, manages to be a huge asset to his ouxiang. I am so happy that he gets to have this budding friendship with Xiaoge because they both need it.

Then! Bai Haotian. I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately and the more I rewatch some of their scenes together, the more I notice that they really develop a bond during Reboot. They are in a very similar position: brought in because of their idols, young, sometimes overlooked, struggling, and usually falling behind. And oh, definitely in need of some saving and with tragic backstories. They could be such amazing friends, and I think they come to trust and care for each other during their trip to Thunder City. Bai Haotian is so caring by nature and then Liu Sang is just right there. And Bai Haotian is so lowkey about her care; she doesn’t push if people don’t want her to, which works so well for Liu Sang. She’s there when needed. She doesn’t ask too much. She knows how it feels to look up to one of the members of the Iron Triangle and then curl your own life around them. (She also knows how it feels to have a crush on that same member and then notice that crush will never lead you anywhere, though I guess Bai Haotian comes to realize that during their trip instead of years before but well, details.) She doesn’t judge Liu Sang and somehow Liu Sang comes to rely on her a lot. 

And last but not least (never the least!): Pangzi. God I adore these two to bits. Their banter is just *chef’s kiss* and when I look at them, all I can think about is a big dog trying to pat a hissing kitten with its paw. Which then turns to the kitten play fighting the dog’s big paw. And then getting tired. And falling asleep. While the huge dog just curls its body around the kitten to keep it warm, and maybe the kitten swats at the dog slightly for show but actually it enjoys it. Because it’s nice and soft and very warm. So yes, I love it how Pangzi and Liu Sang start off as enemies but come to care for each other. I cry about the peanut scene every day. Yes please adopt this poor stray kitten, he deserves a loving home ;; Give him food and a blanket and maybe he will hiss a little less (Pangzi also gives great hugs and Liu Sang deserves a dozen. For starters.) 

My unpopular opinion about this character

Once again I am at a loss with this. I don’t really know what this fandom thinks about Liu Sang? I feel like our tiny Liu Sang hyping corner here on tumblr is very much unified with the opinions. We all love him a lot and want the best for him, case closed. So maybe I’ll just talk about my hypersensitivity headcanon for him? Let me do that for fun haha

So, I know he’s sensitive to sounds. Understandable, with his skills. And I feel bad for him for that because it must be horrible at times (we get introduced to him through him vomiting because he can’t handle a train station with all the noise, christ) but I also somehow relate to that. I get sensitive to sounds sometimes too. A simple click of my mouse can be annoying at times. I require absolute silence quite often, and this intensifies if my emotions are on the negative side. So, somehow I’m taking things from that. Touch hurts when he’s feeling bad about himself. Noises annoy him when he’s angry or scared. Lights look too bright or he feels like he can’t focus his gaze when he’s sad or panicking. Smells and tastes are intensified when he’s stressed. I dunno, just simple little things. Him feeling through his senses. Him just generally being sensitive with his feelings because this world is a demanding place and pushes you into feeling things. And I feel like a lot about him is already tied to his hearing so why not his feelings too? I’ve read so many nice takes on him which somehow support this so I feel like this just fits right in. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

Liu Sang joins the final celebration!! Him just disappearing doesn’t make sense at all!!!! Let him get hugs!!! Let him be happy!!!! Oh my god. I was so mad about that and still am because no way did he just leave and not join his new friends for this final evening!!! Dammit. No matter how much he feels like he doesn’t belong and like he’s just “a hired talent” among them, he’s not that dull!! He got those damn peanuts and some hugs and shoulder pats from people, he was there saving the day, he managed to create bonds!!! And god, knowing Wu Xie, he would never allow Liu Sang to think that lowly of himself!!!! He would be there to offer Liu Sang the world if he wants it!! Gaaaahhhh

So yeah, give Liu Sang his moment with his new family or I am throwing something, for fuck’s sakes

thank you again for sending me these asks ♥ i’ll answer the rest during these next few days! you’re amazing!!

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 7

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/631916582484017152/odins-ward-chapter-6

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 3232

Warnings: Adult themes implied

Y/n: 18 // Loki: 20 // Thor: 24

Y/n’s POV

It’s been three weeks since Loki took me to the meadow. We have not yet been able to return, but the flowers in my room don’t die. In fact, they never even seem to wilt. This only solidifies my theory that Loki created the meadow for just the two of us. That means something significant, I’m sure of it. Since that time, I can tell our relationship has shifted. I believe that if I was not already promised a husband from my father, Loki might be interested in courting me.

It wouldn’t do though. Father has plans for me in Alfheim, and Odin has plans for Loki here. The knowledge that we can’t be together in the long-term makes me sad, but being around Loki tends to make that sadness go away. I just enjoy the time we have together and try not to think about the fact that, now that I am of age, I could be called to Alfheim at any moment.

A knock pulls me from my thoughts, and I smile to myself. That’ll be Loki, ready to take me to dinner.

It is to my great surprise, then, to find Thor waiting for me on the other side of my threshold.

He beams. “Lady Y/n, would you allow me to escort you to dinner?”

I blink. After an awkward silence, Thor offers me his arm as a reminder. “Oh. Yes, of course, Your Highness. Forgive me, it’s just that I was expecting—”

“Loki, I know. He escorts you to dinner every evening.” Thor’s voice is different now, a little…harder. I take his arm and allow him to begin the walk to the dining hall. “Lady Y/n,” he lowers his voice so I have to work to hear him. “I know that you and my brother are…close. But you both need to be more careful. It is not my business how either of you spends your nights, but I cannot help but notice how conspicuously the two of you are behaving.”

I swallow, nerves buzzing. We’re not even…. I try for some damage control. “Your Highness, I—”

Thor puts up a hand to stop my words, and I fall silent. “It is not my business, Lady Y/n. I am simply warning you as your friend. I do not wish to see your reputation tarnished, as I have come to care for you as a brother would care for his sister.”

Too many reactions run through my head, so I go with the one that is the most polite. “Thank you, Your Highness, truly. I appreciate your counsel.”

Thor nods, a kind smile on his face. “I wish the best for you, Lady Y/n.”

Despite my shock at this conversation, I try to return the smile, because he really does mean well. “And I, you.”

We enter the dining hall then. Thor walks me to my seat before walking to his spot at the other end of the table. Frigga sits next to Thor, Odin in the middle, there is a space where Loki should be, and then there’s me at the end. I stare at the table, not wishing to engage in conversation. Not that Odin would speak with me, anyway. Dinner begins without Loki. I pick at my food, not really in the mood to eat. If Thor noticed my and Loki’s…attachment…then maybe we really are being too conspicuous. Which is silly, because there’s nothing going on to even be conspicuous about!

With the creak of a door, Loki enters the dining hall. The tense frustration on his face breaks into relief when he meets my eyes. He takes his seat, first apologizing to his parents for being late, then turning to me.

“You did not wait for me.” There’s hurt in his voice that he tries hard to mask with indifference.

I immediately feel guilty for hurting him, even unintentionally. “I would have,” I murmur, still looking at my plate. “But Thor escorted me to dinner because he feels that we…well, that we are romantically involved and are quite obvious about it.” Despite my embarrassment at this topic, I look up so I can gauge his reaction.

It’s angry. He clenches his jaw and his voice is tight when he speaks. “That is none of his concern—”

I hurry to his brother’s defense. “He spoke out of friendship, Loki. We can’t blame him for—”

“Even if he was speaking with kindness as his motivation, he should have come to me rather than to you. You shouldn’t have to deal with—”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to deal with this, either! Besides, it’s not like we—”

Odin stands so quickly his chair screeches, effectively silencing everyone in the hall. The King utters two simple words, but the effects are immediate: “Frost Giants.”

The room erupts into chaos. People react mainly by screaming. Some draw weapons, some seem plastered to their seats, some make a break for the exits.

Thor stands, Mjolnir at the ready. Loki kicks into action as well, hastily taking hold of me and his mother. Our world goes black.

We reappear in what looks like Frigga’s chambers. Nausea hits me, but I try to ignore it and focus instead on the situation at hand. Because from what I can gather, Asgard is under attack.

Loki runs to the door and pulls two sentries into the room. “Guard them with your lives,” he orders, darkness in his voice. Finally, he turns to us. “I will come for you when it is safe. Stay hidden.”

Frigga nods gracefully from her spot in the middle of the room. Her shoulders are pulled taut, and I can tell she is worried for her son. I feel the same.

“Hey.” My voice is tighter than I want it to be, probably due to the terror currently working a hole in my chest. “Be careful.”

Loki’s eyes lock with mine, and I can see the fear and determination in them. No sparkle like there usually is. He swallows, nods once, and disappears.

Neither Frigga nor I speak.

From the far ends of the castle, I can hear the grunts and screams of people as they fight. I’ve never seen a Frost Giant, nor do I know what one sounds like, but I pray that what I hear is the sound of them dying rather than the Asgardians. Through many tense minutes of waiting, the sounds of battle get closer to Frigga’s room. By her body language, she knows we’ll soon be in imminent danger.

There’s a crash outside the door, and I jolt into action. I reach under my dress and pull my dagger from its home in the garter attached to my thigh. Frigga eyes me quizzically.

“I know I’m probably not supposed to have this. But…I do.” Given the situation, I’m not exactly sure what to say. For all I know, this is going to be my last conversation.

A tight yet somehow still kind smile briefly crosses Frigga’s face. “Worry not, dear Y/n. It is important everyone know how to protect themselves. I would have taught you myself had I not suspected my son was already doing so.”

I do my best to smile back as the clamoring gets nearer. A sparkle—the same sparkle I’ve seen in Loki’s eyes—enters Frigga’s as she reaches behind her back and unsheathes two long knives previously concealed by her cascading hair.

All I can say is: “woah.”

From our position in the middle of the room, we wait.

I’m hypersensitive to the sounds outside the door. The clashing has gotten louder, and I hear the sound of metal scraping against metal. The guards inside the room tense, ready for battle.

The door slams open.

Before I can react, Odin enters the room, surrounded by his guards. Frigga lets out a breath of relief and bypasses the guards to hug her husband. She exudes relief.

I exhale as well, lowering my dagger to let it hang by my side. I close my eyes, finally able to relax now that I’m not contemplating my death.

Absently, I register Odin’s words to Frigga. “It seems….” There’s pain in Odin’s voice, and my ears perk up. Has something happened? Is Asgard in trouble? “Loki has been gravely injured. We must go to his side at once…he is not expected to live much longer.”

My head snaps up. Without warning, the only sound I can hear is my jarringly loud breathing. I can’t blink. I can’t move. I can’t even react. I’m just…frozen.

Frigga lifts a shaking hand to cover her mouth. Then, she lets out a shriek of anguish that pierces through the silence and collapses into Odin’s arms. His face is drawn, his sadness is apparent, but he’s obviously trying to be strong.

“My love, we must go find our son.”

Frigga nods dimly, tears falling down her cheeks as she allows herself to be pulled to the door. On his way out, Odin’s eye catches mine, and he gestures to a guard. “Take her to her chambers and make sure she stays there. The castle is not yet secure.”

The guard obediently does as Odin orders. I don’t feel his hand on my arm, nor do I remember walking to my room, though we must have, because next thing I know, I’m sitting on my bed. The guard leaves me alone and I just sit. My body feels numb. Is that normal? I don’t know how much time passes, only that it’s enough for terrifying thoughts to run through my mind. Has Loki died yet? Or is he in agony, waiting to die? The image of Loki in pain, fatally injured, breaks me out of my shock, and I begin to shake with tears. I can’t stop crying. I sob until I nearly make myself sick. And once I’m out of tears, I fall to the floor in the midst of dry heaves and curl into a ball. Once again, my mind attacks me with unwelcome images of Loki lying on the ground, bloodied and waiting for death.

I should’ve been there.

Gods! I should have been there!

I grip at the rug in an attempt to bring myself some comfort, but the fabric offers nothing but scratches. Everything just…hurts. So badly. Imagining my life without my friend brings a deep pain that I never want to feel again.

“Y/n.” I hear a quiet voice from across the room and my head snaps to find the source.

He’s there.

Loki is right there, standing just a few feet away from me. We stare at each other, neither of us moving.

A leftover sob escapes me, and that seems to snap Loki out of whatever trance he was experiencing.

“Oh, Y/n.” Heartache thickens his voice and he hurries to join me on the floor, pulling me protectively into his arms. I cling to him and begin to cry once more.

“Your father, he said—he said—” I can’t even finish my sentence. I grip Loki’s shirt instead and cry into his shoulder.

“I know. I—I didn’t think he would tell you, I was just trying…” He trails off, seeming as lost for words as I am as he rubs my back soothingly.

I take deep breaths and work on calming myself down. It’s okay, it’s alright. He’s here now, safe with you. Loki produces a handkerchief and helps me dry my tears.

“It was just a trick.” His voice is quiet as he holds me. “I faced a particularly nasty situation and determined the best solution would be to cast a double to make the Frost Giant think he had bested me while I was secretly waiting to kill him. Well, after I had done so, more Frost Giants entered the fray and I was so occupied with fighting them that I completely forgot to dispose of my severely wounded double. When my father saw it, he assumed the worst and immediately told my mother…and you, it seems. Y/n, I am so, so sorry.” His voice breaks mid-apology.

I pull back so I can look into his eyes. The eyes that I thought had been taken away from me too soon.

Screw it.

I push myself so I’m sitting up in his lap and press my lips to his.

He makes a strangled noise of shock before tightening his arms around my waist and kissing me back. The kiss is hard and desperate, each of us pulling at the other to get them as close as possible. My hands find the ties of his armor and begin to tug them loose. Loki pulls back and stops my progress with his clothing.

“Y/n, we can’t. Your reputation—”

I look him straight in the eyes, absolutely sure of my decision. “Everyone here already thinks we do this. In their minds, my reputation is ruined. So why not make what they’re saying true?”

He swallows, seeing my logic. Then he shakes his head, thinking of another argument. “Yes, but what about your prospects on Alfheim? If your father finds out about this—or any potential suitors do—you’ll be shunned! I—I can’t do that to you.”

“Loki.” I take his face into my hands, holding his eyes on mine. “No one in Alfheim will know of what I do in Asgard. There are so few ways of communication. I promise that everything will be okay. I want you, Loki.” His eyes flutter closed, and I place a kiss on each of them. “If you want me too…then I’m yours.”

He opens his eyes, happiness and adoration shining through. He pulls my hand from his cheek and kisses my palm without looking from my eyes. Then, he stands, pulling me with him, and kisses me again, much softer this time. He places his hands on my hips and gently guides me onto the bed.

{***}

I wake to feather-light kisses on my neck. It tickles, and I can’t help but let out sleepy giggles. Opening my eyes, I find Loki staring right at me with my favorite mischievous smile on his face.

“Hello.”

A slow, lazy smile spreads across my own face. “Hi.”

He pulls one of my hands from its grip on the blanket to hold it in his. He kisses my palm lightly, one of my new favorite behaviors of his. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah sure,” my grin broadens. “Sleep.”

He laughs, pulling me and rolling over so I’m resting on top of him. “Well, I know you enjoyed that.” He winks cheekily and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

I roll my eyes but lean down to kiss him despite his cockiness. Too soon, he groans and pulls away. “I have to go. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left so you didn’t think I abandoned you or anything.”

I rest my chin on his chest, just enjoying looking into his eyes. “That’s kind of you.”

He rolls us again so I lie underneath him, but he thankfully keeps most of his weight on his elbows. “I will see you tonight to escort you to dinner.” His face darkens. “Unless my idiot brother beats me to it.”

I chuckle. “His intentions are kind. Besides, your brother—”

Loki stops me with a groan. “Okay, never mind. This is the last moment I want to be thinking of my brother.

I throw my head back in laughter, and he takes the opportunity to kiss my neck once more. My laughter falls silent.

“There.” He brings his head up with a satisfied smirk. “That takes care of that.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no true annoyance in me. Right now, I feel perfectly content.

“Alright, I really must go.” There’s regret in his voice, and I do my best to ease that.

“Thank you for staying the night.”

Surprise colors his features, and he regards me with slight bewilderment. “Of course. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.” The honesty in his voice is apparent. He kisses me once more before standing up, dressing magically, and teleporting out of the room.

Once I’m alone, I grin stupidly and smush my face in the pillow. So that just happened.

Too soon, my maid, Dagmar, enters, curtsies, and gets to work. She doesn’t comment on my lack of clothing or the state of the bedsheets. It’s clear what I have done, but since I’m in the room alone, Dagmar can only speculate. She quietly goes about her job, and soon I am ready for the day.

Breakfast and lunch pass normally. I do my best to pretend as if I enjoy the company of the other ladies at Court, but only about three of them are truly tolerable. Lady Sif invites me to take a walk with her, and I consider telling her about my night with Loki. I stop myself just in time. People suspecting is one thing. People knowing is another. Instead, we discuss battle strategies and she regales me with stories of her latest adventures with Thor and the Warriors Three. I’ve barely made it back to my room when there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

The clink of metal alerts me to the fact that I do not have one of my usual visitors.

“Lady Y/n, the King requires your presence in the throne room. I am to escort you there.”

A rod of panic slices through my stomach.

Oh gods. Odin knows.

I swallow, not wanting the guard to see my distress. “Alright.” My voice is breathy, and I try to calm myself down. Just don’t panic, Y/n.

The guard and I begin our walk to the throne room.

You have got to calm down. Just be brave and honest and then maybe Odin won’t expose you to your father.

My heart beats rapidly.

We reach the doors of the throne room. While we wait for the order to enter, I wring my hands together nervously. Oh, I wish Loki was here.

The massive doors swing open and I gulp.

Here we go.

The scene in front of me is not at all what I expected.

Odin sits on his throne with Frigga standing at his side. Thor has placed himself a few stairs below and to the right of Odin’s throne, and Loki is half-hidden behind it. Odin, Frigga, and Thor look pleased—incredibly so—but Loki…Loki looks like he is in agony.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. The look on Loki’s face is nearly painful. I desperately want to run to him and comfort him, but that would surely seal our fate….

If us being together is even what this meeting is about.

A heavy feeling pools in my stomach as the early stages of understanding weigh on me. Oh.

“Lady Y/n, it is my pleasure to finally be able to tell you that we have received word from your father.” Odin’s eyes gleam with self-satisfaction. He has no idea of the storm of hurt, fear, and dread swirling within me. The King delivers the message I know is coming:

“Your father has found you a husband. It is time for you to be sent home.”

A/n Hello! Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list :)

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/637789805440368640/odins-ward-chapter-8

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99 @what-am-i-doing10 @chxrryycola

[luque-moreau]

y'know i think its about time ive refurbished my psychonauts headcanons/theories

what??? me??? rewriting my psychonauts headcanons in a more comprehensible and informed way???

ye

alright, i think everyone knows what im talking about, by headcanons i mean headcanon as in singular, and as singular, i mean my "raz is somewhere on the spectrum of adhd".

so lets just get into it:

what is adhd actually?

adhd by definition stands for attention deficit hyperactive/hyperfocus disorder (yes, let me get into the details in just a sec). it is a nerodevelopmental disorder that is almost completely reliant on genetic factors, however conditions during pregnancy can sometimes contribute to certain aspects of how adhd manifests itself.

long story short, people with adhd have a smaller frontal lobe, and therefore less dopamine in general (even though yes, it is more complicated than that).

theres also a little bit of "chicken or the egg first" goin on here, certain behaviors or personality tendencies can also affect how adhd is presented in one individual to the next, however its still not clear if that is because it is an accommodating for a certain thought process or if someones experiences and personality shape their symptoms of adhd entirely. its a very blurry line, and the answer is different for everybody.

hyperactive type

hyperactive type is probably the closest to most stereotypical depictions of adhd, think the 5 year old whos parents brush off their child’s hyperactivity as something that will “go with age”. however, this isn’t only present in children, adults with adhd have to deal with a constant need for stimuli to make up for the lack of dopamine their current activity is providing them. this results in someone fidgeting frequently in repetitive or predictable motions, unable to hold attention to a specific task for long periods of time, or many other of the symptoms associated with adhd.(i sadly cannot provide more information in this area, i am not knowledgeable enough to...)

hyperfocus type

hyperfocus type is a tricky one, it can look like the complete opposite of adhd in theory. hyperfocus can look similar to special interests or hyperfixation, a great deal of time and knowledge dedicated to a very particular thing (although it is important to note that even though hyperfixations and special interests are incredibly similar, special interests is a term more typically used within autistic-circles, and isnt really the best word to use if you happen to be neurotypical). Think of maybe that kid who knows all the cool animal facts and won’t shut up about them. Its because certain trains of thought or activities might release more dopamine then others, so to get more of that dopamine, someone of hyperfocus type will be mentally unable to stop thinking or doing a very specific task or topic. this results in someone seemingly always spacing out, unable to change subjects or changing subjects too fast or with little to no correlation, or being completely unable to have enough motivation to do simple things.

personally i tend to fall under the category of hyperfocus myself rather than hyperactive, however the two are not mutually exclusive, its more common to find people with both types rather than just one. even myself, i might exhibit more tendencies to place me under the label of hyperfocus, but that doesn’t mean i don’t have any symptoms of the hyperactive type. its my personality that affects my mannerisms, which then makes certain aspects of my symptoms more or less apparent. Thats because im an INTP-T, i just tend to be more to myself and constantly in a state of thinking abstractly. I have trouble communicating and even sometimes recognizing my needs, and get to a point where im unable to do the simplest of things without feeling emotionally drained. Thats just my experience though, everybodys different. 

so what the fuck does this have to do with raz then?

well lets think about it, rather than have it just be me projecting myself onto a comfort character:

raz finds issue with connecting to kids his age

lets be honest. none of the campers really like raz that much. or at least some do the bare minimum to be try and be polite. it doesn’t seem like any of the other campers besides dogen, whos also socially outcasted, are really fond of raz. lili might like him, but that can definitely be interpreted as curiosity in someone new and different from the norm. It might not be that the kids despise him, but nobodys opinionated enough to care whether he is around or not.

social isolation is one of the most damning things i had to experience from an early age and still feel even today. there is a sense of feeling that you are different among your peers, whether that is a good thing or bad thing. it feels difficult to interact with other people you are not familiar with, and can really stunt you emotionally and socially. from a really early age, theres somethin in you that knows something is very different between the experiences of your peers compared to your own, and it can feel incredibly isolating.

raz and his borderline stupidity

time to get real again. raz is a fucking idiot. at least in the sense that sometimes his decisions seem incredibly spontaneous and not really thought through. he runs from home to attend a summer camp, not really thinking about the logistics of how he will get there, how the staff will react, how long its gonna take for his parent to find him, and so on. it doesn’t seem like he over or underestimates his abilities, he just goes for it without considering. that doesnt seem like the smartest thing to do, even though we know hes incredibly intelligent when it comes to larger, abstract situations. its the little details that he misses, small minuet things that seem unimportant that he overlooks, which can sometimes make things harder for him in the end.

i think its obvious that impulsivity is one symptom of adhd. however i cannot stress how difficult it is to think at supersonic speed and still feel incredibly stupid. i mean, thinking faster doesn’t inherently mean you will have better ideas, you can always be stupider faster, but being able to realize stupid mistakes or inconsistencies in your own thought process is annoying as hell. it feels like every time you try to recognize the issue, fix it, and move forward, you only end up not paying attention to another issue that gets bigger and more annoying than the first. Its always two steps forward, one step back, constantly making the same mistakes even though you try everything in your power to avoid them or grow as a person. The simplest of facts, ideas, or just things to remember end up being forgotten, and once youre reminded of them you remember them and feel like an idiot. however, arbitrary things and complex issues are much easier to digest and remember for me, things like history and the whole blame game charade of it all, biology and how every minuet thing has a greater impact on others and intertwines with every single factor of its environment, philosophy and theorizing why we think the way we do and what can be changed. but oh shit, im a dumbass i forgot to do my laundry. shit. god fuckin dammit.

empathy over sympathy

one of the basic themes of psychonauts is empathy. simple as that. raz goes around into other peoples brains, and tries to help them as much as he can, even if his efforts are not always successful in the way he intended. he never demonizes anyone to the point of unredeemability, and can empathize and understand other peoples perspectives. hes open to new ideas and

although some studies out there theorize that empathy is impaired due to adhd, from my perspective i feel like that is simply not true. if anything, i would say the sensitivity that comes with adhd (hypersensitivity) only enhances that empathy. i could definitely see social disconnection being one of the reasons it might appear that someone with adhd is less empathetic, however i would doubt that adhd would impair a persons empathy. adhd tends to also entail heightened emotions, this doesn’t necessarily mean a more outwardly emotional person, however it definitely shifts a persons perspective of their own emotions as well as others. the concept of hypersensitivity also completely contradicts the idea of people with adhd be less empathetic.

miscommunication and disconnect

sigh, the dad thing. yup. raz has that very iffy relationship with his dad at the beginning of the game which is eventually resolved. very abruptly, might i add. but thats not what this is about, thats a topic for another day. miscommunication seemed to be the root of the issue, however we only get razs side of the story. not to mention the severity of his claims and willingness to seemingly drop everything afterwards. kinda sus, ngl.

alright this ones a doosey. this, i feel, cements my theory pretty well. like i mentioned before, social disconnect and hypersensitivity are side effects of the symptoms of adhd.  this means people with adhd are highly more likely to either misinterpret someones words or actions if those in question are not completely transparent, its because they tend to overthink and interpenetrate responses with too much thinkin n such. the social disconnect makes a whole lot of it worse, it can just pile on top of already established feelings of inadequacy and isolation. and oversharing as a poor coping mechanism isnt an exclusively adhd related thing, it tends to be shared within similar neruodevelopmental disorders such as autism or even ptsd. i find it incredibly easy to disconnect myself from my own emotions at times and think critically at what i feel and how it affects me. which is a bad thing. if i dont acknowledge my emotions like they are my own for too long, everything falls apart. its not fun. but, that disconnect can make talking about certain more traumatic experiences or instances that had deep personal effects on my life and development as a person much easier to just share. and not always in an appropriate manner, comedic opportunity can be   v  e  r  y   enticing. this also explains why raz might have been able to drop everything about his dad after he apologized. he didn’t really, he probably still suffers just as much afterwards as he did before. but he probably wont realize that for awhile, since logically, the issue has been resolved. long story short, he has not had the time to cope, and to put that off he detaches himself from those feelings. w a c k

of course i have other reasons why i feel like raz could potentially have adhd, or at least be accurately represented in headcanon with adhd, some minor mentions being:

he uses his camp map as a journal to track his in-game progress, list of goals, and notes/snip-its of information. writing down information on some form of notepad or book is a common tool used by kids and even adults with adhd to help them keep track of minuet, individual tasks. its just using a planner, but with a bit more information. 

just from my personal perspective, the lengths raz goes to pursue his dream of being a psychonaut feel more like a special interest/hyper fixation sort of thing. he can jump between having genuine conversations with his fellow campers and just exploring the campground, to investing himself entirely in obtaining his goal, even when it seems almost impossible. thats some serious dedication to one very specific thing, y’know?

this one isnt as solid as the other but: m̶̖̰̯̫̍͝o̵̦͖̟͈̹̤̥̝͐̿̄̀̀̎̓ņ̶̛̭̠̐̊̆̍͝ķ̸̝͈̺̙̰̊e̶͉͚̼̅̔͗̂͐̍̕͝͝y̶̦̖̼͖̪͎̝̖̠̐̑͋̾̔̑́͐͘ ̵̢̲̘͎͉̔̀͒̄͌͊̀͌̀m̴̲̫̮̪̖̍̐͆̕͜͝ͅả̶͙͚͗n̶̗̳̩̙̘̼̦̦͇͝ ̷̡̨̡͔̗͕̘͍̥̑͒̎̐̃g̴͔̔̈̅̐̏́̌̔̈́́o̶̥̱̽̆̂͌̀͗ ̶̝̩͙͕͛́s̴̛͓̥̲̜͓͚̣̠̆̓̌͌p̶̜̹̯̦̫̯̣̎͐̽̉̾ḙ̴͇̬͑̈́̐̈́͘͠ͅȅ̶̡̗̞̩͔̫̪͈͑̓͗d̵̠͇͎̜͔͇͒̈́́̀̅̈́̒͘y̸̡̦̠̻̖̥̿ͅ. yeah, its the most generalizing reason but look, hes moving nonstop the entire game, climbing and running around the entire goddamn place wrecking havoc. a bit of imp can be found in most people with adhd if you look hard enough.

so thanks for reading this far i guess? im oversharing even right now with this, like an i d i o t but yknow what i dont want to read the great gatsby rn, so ive got nothin better to do. who knows, maybe the second game will give us more info to either support/discredit this theory? gotta wait for pn2 i guess

:^)

[barsformars]

reaction: to their s/o being hyper sensitive; ateez

req: Hi! How would Ateez react to an HSP S/O? *HSP stands for hyper sensitive person btw!

a/n: thanks for requesting love! i hope you enjoy it ~~

Seonghwa

"Y/n, do you love me?"

As a highly sensitive person, you always craved deep emotional connection with people and strongly despised small talk. This led to you only opening up to a handful of people and the bonds with them were nothing short of meaningful.

However, ever since your heart was utterly shattered by your ex partner, you found yourself being more cautious when it came to building romantic relationships.

And this was the case with Seonghwa. The two of you had been dating for a couple of months now but Seonghwa always finds that you look way more happier and intimate with Hongjoong. Indeed, Hongjoong does make you feel much more comfortable since you only view him as a friend.

One night, Seonghwa couldn't hold his thoughts in any longer and decided to talk to you about it, and you decided that maybe it was time to slowly open up to him.

Much to your surprise, Seonghwa was very understanding of you and promised to be patient in earning your trust. He would also be one to research more about being highly sensitive so as to not unintentionally upset you.

Hongjoong

Knowing that you're highly sensitive, you're the first person he turns to whenever he feels stuck on a project, be it producing, composing, or just casual art stuff. You always have a ton of fresh and creative ideas he never thought of and he loves that part about you. He enjoys it when the both of you just non stop bounce ideas off each other and he think it's really special that you have so much creativity in you.

If you were into the arts as well, he would love to admire your works because it's always so unique and special. Don't be surprised if he shows them off to the other Ateez members about how brilliant you are.

Hongjoong doesn't say it often but it's something he admires about you and he can't help but fall deeper in love with you every passing day.

"You're my precious genius."

Yunho

You had told Yunho about your hypersensitivity right from the beginning and he did his best to research about it, also always asking you questions so that he could be as knowledgeable about it as possible.

With that being said, Yunho would be one to always make the effort to be happy around you because he knows how much you're affected by external mood changes. And if there was anything that had to be addressed in your relationship, he would take it slow and discuss it with you as calmly as possible.

It was hard and exhausting sometimes but Yunho doesn't mind it much because seeing the bright smile on your face brings one to his and its a cycle. All he wants is for you to always be happy so he tries his best to be cheerful too.

Yeosang

"Y/n, I was just playing a prank! Why do you have to be so serious all the time?" Yeosang had decided that it would be a good idea to pull a jumpscare on Mingi, resulting in the taller boy screaming and falling to the floor in shock. You weren't pleased with it at all since you were both startled and worried for Mingi.

"It's not funny, Sang....he could have hurt himself badly when he fell!"

"Y/n, don't get mad at Yeosang, I'm okay." Mingi had tried to ease the tension between you and your boyfriend.

"Exactly, he's fine! What's the big deal here?"

"No, he fell with such a loud thud. It's not okay, Sang, that was so mean of you. And could you please stop raising your voice? It's scaring me....."

It wasn't the first time you had took his joke or prank too seriously and he was starting to find it a little odd.

When things have calmed down later on that night, he made sure to ask you about it and you finally decided to tell him about your hypersensitivity, not wanting to cause any more misunderstandings.

It took a little while for Yeosang to get used to but he started to be more careful of his words and actions around you. It was a little uncomfortable but he loves you too much to leave you over something that could be fixed with a little more consideration and understanding on his part.

San

You were always requesting something from San.

When he was watching the television at home, you would ask him to lower the volume by just one bar. When you were both reading on the couch, you would ask that he flips his pages with his left hand instead of his right, because it was softer that way. When he was out purchasing a new bottle of cologne, you would always wait at least a few stores down the row.

And you always noticed minor differences about him.

Like how he probably didn't put the same amount of fabric softener as you do when doing his laundry because his sweater feels unusually rough. He said it felt the same and shrugged it off as him not caring about the softness of it as much as you do.

But San would always do as you ask, never giving it too much thought. Until one day he realised that you were way too observant.

"Did you spritz your cologne twice instead of thrice this morning?" You had asked San over dinner, and he perked up at your question.

He took a few sniffs at himself before looking at you all confused, "You can still smell it on me? Also I did, because it's running out, is there such a huge difference though?" You nodded softly at his question.

"But babe, why do you seem to care so much about the little details? Do they bother you?" He added on.

"I'm sorry if I've been annoying all these while, I'm hyper sensitive so........"

Everything suddenly made sense to him and he cooed, reaching out to pinch your cheeks, "Babe, you should have told me earlier ~~~ and no it's not annoying at all, as long as you're comfortable, I'll do anything for you."

Mingi

Mingi knew that you were highly sensitive ever since that one time he brought you out to stargaze and you were the happiest he had ever seen anyone. He didn't even think it was possible for someone to be more elated than you were about a simple date at the park. He had asked you whether there was a special reason to why you liked stargazing so much and you ended up telling him that you basically lived for anything pleasing to your senses because of your hypersensitivity.

One thing Mingi doesn't tell you is how much he wants to make you feel loved, because everytime he hugs you or even simply holds your hand, the squeals that come out from your mouth just makes his heart melt. And he cannot be happier that you are able to feel his love for you on at a higher intensity that anyone else he had been with, making him feel so much more loved too.

And as much as he wants to make you feel loved, he's also careful to not do anything that might cause you to be upset because he knows how sensitive you are to negative things. So whenever a violent or sad scenes show on television, he would take your attention away from it.

"Just look at me, okay?"

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had self choreographed a dance and decided to invite you over to the dance studio to watch him. It was a song you had never heard before but when he was dancing, you couldn't help but frown, an itchy sensation building up inside your body. yes, he was hitting the more obvious beats in the song but he was missing out a ton of underlying instrumentals and the textures were all over place.

when he noticed your expression, he immediately stopped to ask, "what's wrong?" feeling a little bad, you sighed and told him honestly anyways, pointing out the smaller beats in the song as the both of you listened to it together. "I can't hear it," he groaned, starting to get frustrated at himself.

"don't worry about it, I know it's hard for most people. I just... I'm hyper sensitive so I could pick up the beats easily and I was bothered by it. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, I didn't mean to....."

"No no no, it's fine. If you don't mind, could you help point out the beats I missed to me again?" Wooyoung would smile and reassure you that you didn't upset him. He would also make sure to do his research of hyper sensitivity and be more careful with his volume everytime you were around, making sure that you never felt uncomfortable as much as possible.

Jongho

Jongho found out that you were highly sensitive in one of the worst ways possible. It was your first time taking a ride back to his dorm with him and no one told you that this boy sings his heart out even in the car. You knew that his singing was naturally strong and loud, and honestly it does bother you even when he practices in his studio but you have learnt to bear with it.

But that day, you were already exhausted from the day's events and you just wanted some peace and quiet in the car when he started singing. It didn't take long for you to be driven into sensory overload, starting to feel nauseous and breathless.

Even then, you didn't want to tell him to stop. Knowing how much he loves singing, you were afraid that you would hurt his feelings. It wasn't until you couldn't help but cover your ears with your hands, your whole body shaking that Jongho realised that something was wrong.

After you reached the dorm, he would make sure to talk about it with you to make sure that that day's incident never repeats itself.

[shy-magpie]

RQG 156

live blog under the cut

Heads up about half way through I realized I go a bit further into analysis on where Zolf & the Kobolds are mentally than some people might be comfortable with. Just as they trust us to back off if the episode gets to real, I am trusting you to close the tab if my little live blog is hitting you wrong. If it makes a difference I have years between me and the reason I relate to this stuff.

"In Memorium" they are trying to kill us Ah they lampshaded the speed intros Yes Alex it is rather Paris Right to Azu & Zolf. Oh he's jumping right in. And there's my first pause of the episode. No “better” isn't a magic finish line you pass then never find yourself in that place again. No, knowing that doesn't mean you don't wonder if your back at square one every time you realize You Are In A Bad Place and Not Handling it Well. Gosh Azu is good at this. Yeah learning to walk away is hard. Learning to ignore the part of yourself that says "and never come back for their sake" is harder. Symbolic much Alex (Zolf is too small for the room, Azu is too large) Yeah it would be easier to not blame Zolf for last episode if I related to him a bit less. Okay they are talking about Hamid and their concerns for him directly. Yeah Hamid's relationship with power & privilege is an arc; and without the Doylist level of trusting Bryn & Alex, I can see where even if you trust/like him you'd be worried about it. With the best of intentions people misuse power. Azu quoted Grizzop at Zolf. Didn't name him, wonder if Zolf is ever going ask directly about his replacement in canon or if its best left to fic. Its easy to dismiss one's own successes. Okay fair and OW, Zolf isn't up to talking about Sasha; which is the part of this I was most prepared for. Hell yeah! He is coming down but not going to be attempting to lead so as to relieve pressure on himself. Maybe if he can let Hamid step up without making a Kew Garden thing he'll see how much he's grown. Hopefully without that setting off a "Hamid does better without me" thing. Yeah intellectual knowledge and it feeling real on an emotional level are very different things. Alex, why does it matter what order they are in? ALEX? The necklace? The Heart of Aphrodite shaped necklace? Azu got a Sign from Aphrodite approving of her reaching out to Zolf as an act of love. Yes! Blue Black no take backs! Yeah those two (players) know exactly what they are doing: breaking my heart in the best ways and not skipping over the actual work those two (characters) need to put into their relationship with OOC "its all fine now"s. Ok that settles the timeline, Azu went up same night, the device isn't made yet. Yeah Zolf wouldn't, probably best to back off while things are tender while being present enough to assure he isn't planning on leaving. Seriously bless Azu, this has to be at least as hard on her as Helen but she is letting the boys have room to work it out for themselves instead of "trying to help". The last thing either of them need right now is pressure especially on this point. Aw the Kobolds teach Cel draconic. Oh smart kid, not only is it just logical for the Kobolds to work with Cel directly, it might help them get over the "looking to see if the boss approves of how you breathe" stage. Especially if he is clear about not being threatened by them having advantage over him in this area. Heck of a relief this isn't hitting my rank issues. Ooh all the Kobolds are amazing engineers, wonder if its a Kobold thing or if Skraak recruited people with similar interests. Nice rework of the "Kobolds build traps" thing from pathfinder. I genuinely love how instead of pitching the original description of Kobolds out the window, Alex has backwards engineered it. Reputation for traps isn't a dishonorable approach to fighting, its a sign of their skill. They aren't minions, their trauma is interacting with a cultural attitude about rank in weird ways. Oh Cel! Cel is amazing. Under Shoin's orders they: made Magic Steroids, did maintenance (more towards the end as Shoin wasn't taking care of things), built the place initially, sourced ingredients, other Kobolds built the Mechkraken. Damn Shoin, they can't even be proud of all they were able to do in adverse circumstances because he tainted it. If they weren't forced to do it and have it used for ill ends, building the kraken would be impressive. A lot of that sounds like difficult work. Hamid stuff: yeah it is from a place of fear; and they would be hypersensitive and need to try to "defend him" so he doesn't react. Terrified of his anger? Handle anything that even annoys him to cut it off at the pass. And being a good person who doesn't like scaring them, Hamid is going to over do the very "Mary Sunshine" routine that makes Zolf think he doesn't appreciate the gravity of the situation. You'd think Mr "do a grief later" would get that Hamid doesn't have to walk the halls wailing to be aware of the end of the world. Not that the kid can win, if he cried and threw up it would be proof he hasn't grown from season one. Hopefully by taking a back seat Zolf will have a chance to see Hamid's actions and realize being chipper & wholesome doesn't mean stupid. Oh Alex has thought this through, one of these days I'll quit being surprised he actually gets this stuff. Not being able to read the person whose emotions feel like life & death is a Bad Thing. Thank Alex for Skraak. Weird seeing this stuff from this side, of course learning to focus on my end instead of being preoccupied with what was going on in the heads of people who were on Hamid's end of it was rather the point. Perfect balance, Hamid gives them enough space to realize he isn’t going to explode, Skraak "translates" into something clear enough not to stress them out. Like when Zolf snapped at Skraak when he pledged to Hamid; might not be pretty but not knowing what The Powers That Be want? Very bad place. Rank and clear orders are very important when appeasing those who outrank you is everything. Cel has dealt with a lot of young and unsure apprentices!?! Yeah well Cel isn't in their chain of command and gears don't get offended if you have an opinion on the right way to configure them. Cel is great Azu & Hamid talking about Zolf! Helen is wonderful! I thought this was going to be drawn out and indirect, instead they are actually facing things head on and dealing with them. Aw these two are so good for each other. Azu would set aside her own emotions. Hot damn Azu, getting right to it! Hamid can be amazingly open about his self awareness and it surprises me every time. It fits him and is a very good thing, but going from answering "how are you?" with "the Kobolds are doing well" to "I never knew how to help him" without it being jarring made me do quite the double take. Guess I was expecting more deflection. Yeah well you two are redefining your boundaries, entire relationship, and rank in specific, while being the perhaps the only people with enough of the picture to figure out how to save the world. Working out the balance between conflicting views on that, when neither of you knows what the end will look like was never going to be smooth. Oh yes and none of you have directly addressed that half of Zolf's rank & dick measuring stuff is because he doesn't know if he even has a role if he isn't The Boss or The Healer.* Oh the grin in Alex's voice as he tells them there is something else before the brorb interview. Whisky tumblers for each? Quite a sigh there Ben News? Big news? While they were in the institute? They ought to sit down. Wilde get to it. Ah Azu & Hamid are holding hands. Poor kid with his prop. Letter? Ancient Rome? Sasha? Are all the fics coming true? Their founder "Askingus"!?! Oh Sasha, oh Zolf! Lydia! Oh the kids! She named the kids after the party. She even found her faith. A break? How the hell are we only half way through the episode. Also hell yeah Lydia deserves all the awards, that was an amazing letter. XD Ben! Oh Hamid, we reacted that way to the epilogue that way too. It really is okay, it was a good end. Yeah he could use a drink. Poor Zolf. Hamid gives Wilde a hug. "technically I think that makes Sasha my boss". XP be cryptic Alex, The RSB will have it figured out by Friday. Ok Zolf got to read the letter on his own. Azu lit 3 candles, because Helen wants me to cry. Hamid is at Zolf's door with a bottle and two glasses. Lydia this is a compliment to your skill. More direct than I expected from Hamid. Oh these two! Okay he is drunk enough to go there (angry at Zolf for leaving but he gets it). About time someone told Zolf directly he's grown. Aw Zolf puts him to bed. Thank you Alex! Ben! (okay fair, if any of Hamid was left he'd cuddle). Sorry Cel! Lydia wanted to break/heal our hearts more than she wanted the plot to move forward ;) Good plan: take the orb to the anti magic field, only those who have already talked to it can talk directly. Info control. Hive mind/telepathy directly addressed. Finally what Shoin eats is addressed. Ok Cel has some teeth on them. Hasn't fed it, is using the vibration to threaten to explode his brain, (no English doesn't have enough pronouns we are working on it)... Oh good point better feed it. Aw Zolf is possessive of the kitchen. Shoin is still Shoin. Cel is not happy about not being recognized. Nice to hear the boys working together. The Infection might block him from being directly aware of  being infected. Bullsh$% he backed himself up. Good point Zolf even if he does, they are separate lives, this instance can still fear death. Oh all the party have teeth, nice they don't have the "good guys have to be sweet & gentle with the baddies" thing Yeah Cel isn't stupid, the brorbs arm isn't a threat. Oh auto painting that will make the people theorizing on the bio side of how the Brorb works happy. A circulatory diagram, and am ocean of faces. Paints like a printer. A creepy charcoal sketch of London staring at the artist. *I swear on Rusty Tower if they let him hurt himself any worse because he thinks his new role is "a brick wall on wheels" I am joining the line to fight Ben in a Whetherspoons parking lot. Yes it would be in character but so would healing. There are other hills. Although seriously its been great having a character that shows so many of the aspects of depression that usually get left out. That Zolf is also a three dimensional character with a full personality beyond just "the one with mental health issues" while not making it look like those issues are tacked on or easy to handle? Stunning work.  

[whyamistillwatchingtheseshows]

5 BL Male Characters I Love

Tagged by @negrowhat​

1. Lan Wangji from the Untamed  (which we only categorize as BL when technically it’s not but it is because of original source material but its not because of censorship but it is because of the actors Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo perfecting a peak level of pining, falling in love, and confession all through body language and stares...and perhaps a script that was delicately woven...even if lost in a bit of translation.)

Picking LWJ is me probably thinking more like “Choose Your Fighter.” That being said he’s probably my dream fantasy character. Full on, no joke. If I could be reincarnated into favorite characters, Lan Wangji would probably be my number one choice. Why you ask? Most people think of him as cold, unemotional, but honestly I think he’s so hypersensitive. It’s just not outwardly so like his equally hypersensitive husband. Wangji established himself as the fierce warrior with no voice, always finding the chaos, but soon enough, he found that voice. Found ways to be more expressive. Was it because of one man? Yes, probably, but either way I love this pining gay warrior. 

2. Fighter from Why RU? 

This boy, this character for me is the kind where I *hiss* and say stay away from me probably because at first he’s got that “fuck boy” attitude. Sort of like a mixture of seemingly arrogant with a dose of I’m sexy and I know it? Moving passed that (false judgment which actually now feels more descriptive of Tutor- he might be the fuck boy because I just thought of that scene where the basketball knocks shit out his hands and Fight’s trying to apologize and pick up his things and Tutor’s all like I can take care of myself, jumping on him for just being helpful...) Except somehow I find myself drawn to Fight. There’s something about him before he even talks to you (after you’ve made several wrong assumptions about this let’s just say stupidly good looking person), where you’re like yeah I’m already gone. What did you say? Oh, hi! You said hi. That’s cool. My name? Oh, I forgot my name...once you get passed that and actually get to know this character it’d make it far worse, because honestly I think it’s pretty clear that Fighter is unbelievably kind (+plus sweet, romantic, goofy) and for awhile there it looked like he was only kind to others (except Tutor when he had him alone) but he did in public spaces try to get him drinks and take care of him (thinking of that canteen scene where Tutor is so against the drink that Fight instead offers it up to Hwa). What I also like about Fighter is that he’s against confrontation unless he must go into defensive mode and if he does you better watch it. 

3. Sun from Dark Blue Kiss (really thought I’d choose Mork) 

It’s a close draw between the two of them, tbh. However, Sun might win the gauntlet because I feel more akin to him for some odd reason. Okay, so maybe it is both of them. So I’ll cheat on number 3 (sidenote did I already cheat on #2 because I talked an awful lot about Tutor too)? 

They have that constant “fight me” attitude, sometimes in a playful way and sometimes (maybe mostly) aggressively, but then of course somehow they turn out to be a pile of squishy, gooey, mush like fresh baked choco chip cookie. Maybe a little crisp on the edges, but in the middle it’s that ooey gooey goodness. 

4. King from My Engineer 

What is the Forest/Plant King? Chaotic good? Who knows, but I think I fell for him because they did solid character development for such a silly show. There was build up and pay off even on an individual level despite the pairing, if that makes sense. I think it’s also safe to say he’s basically a pure soul and why would anyone ever want to harm him. Yet, as we saw his head cannot be put through anymore...plus, he’s got an immeasurable amount of patience to work with Ram’s choice of rarely talking. 

5. Type from TharnType which is basically TharnType...

You know doing these and trying to separate them from their equally great partner is difficult. Thought I’d definitely go all WangXian with the first choice, however, I’m realizing it’s incredibly difficult to separate these two. They seem more glued to each other than FighterTutor. More emotionally and physically invested in the other than WangXian as well. I choose Type because he’s actually on a top 3 list in my head of characters that I feel most similar too. Somehow he makes it to the #3 spot on that list. Number 1 being Dean Winchester (from SPN) and #2 actually being #2 from this list. I think what gets me about Type is that same “fight me” attitude MorkSun have, and like them Type will go to town for the ones he loves. Yet of course, Type is also ooey gooey chocolate chip cookie goodness on the inside. He can be sweet, kind, romantic. After all, it’s still going to take him a lot of time to let go of his repressed anger and actually stop being so aggressive (though I think some of that hotheadedness ran in the family)!! 

No one asked for long drawn out explanations, but if you thought I could be brief. I can’t so I’m probably more like Wei Wuxian, but I aspire to have the resolve of Lan Wangji. I want to also honorable mention Tang Yi, if not just to shout out History 3 Trapped as a kick ass show. There’s also Two from Theory of Love. Then there’s also Shin from 3 Will Be Free, or the poly throuple that is NeoShinMiw because that you cannot make me break up. Then there’s also Win from Until We Meet Again. This list could be longer than 5 because in all truthfulness every character from each show I’ve watched has a sort of pros and cons list in my head....

Tagging @lostinbl​ @this-solaris-life​ @flower-of-the-desert​ @romanceismycallingcard​ @musicdramalove​​ @occasionally-writing​

[drethanramslay]

14 Bryce x mc please🥰

Thanks for the ask anon :)

You can find the prompt list here 

#14- Are you okay?

Word count: 1.1 K words

Warning: Mention of gaslighting, emotional abuse, suicide and self harm

Author’s note: So um.. I was not having the best of days and when I saw this prompt, the flood broke XD 

This is written in first person i.e my mc, Aliya Acharya’s POV

please forgive me if I make any mistakes.

Are You Okay?

I walked down the hallways in a daze. People usually say that I'm a cheery and funny person to hang out with me and that's the truth.

But, a phone call from my parents wipes the slate and leaves me... Empty.

At 28, I thought I would have gotten over the hell they put me through, and that I could just flip them off and carry on but that does not happen. I just can't bring myself to do that.

So I continue walking, with no direction, hoping that the numbness in my chest leaves me.

Someone must have called out to me, but it felt like my head was under water. I might be here physically but my mind was empty, all emotions down the drain. Just a walking drone.

A hand touched my shoulder and forced me to turn towards him.

"Angel! I have been calling you for the last minute." Bryce spoke.

Gulping, I forced a smile on my face. "Sorry, I was busy thinking about the case."

Bryce's eyes scrutinized my face, and I couldn't get my self to meet his eyes.

"No, something is wrong... Are you okay?"

Are you okay?

What a funny question. I mean whenever someone (probably like 2 people) asks me this, I can't help but throw my head back and laugh which usually brings weird looks from them, which eventually leads them to not talk to me for the next decade.

It's not sarcasm. I genuinely find it hilarious.

Because when someone asks me that question, the shitty and fucky reality of my life slams into me like a train wreck.

My life indeed is a series of unfortunate events occurring one after the other and at this point I have accepted it that I was born to suffer.

I'm not trying to pull the "woe is me card". Nah, not into the sympathy kink. It's a universal fact that me, Aliya Acharya is cursed.

I never really talk about it though because when I once tried, my friends, peers, nobody believed me that my parents are actually so toxic that Britney Spears could be jealous.

Why would they anyway? They have met my parents, who are respected people and are held at a pedestal. My dad is an entrepreneur of a large company with a turn over so huge, you would be shocked. And my mother is literally an angel and has her own NGO where she teaches the poor kids of Mumbai basic education. She is a healer and a councellor.

So. why would anyone believe me when I say that they abuse me emotionally?

I tried talking about these things when I was 18 to my therapist, trying to get some guidance, some help. But, that completely backfired on me because she was close friends with my parents.

Just ignore it... Wow what a solid advice.

So yeah, I have given up after that. I used to write my suffering in a diary but after sometime, that also didn't help.

I was numb to everything.

Wake up. Eat. Study. Sleep. Repeat.

I had no social life because well, I have my parents to blame for that. Since a very young age they raised me to be super competitive and that everyone I met, wants me to fail. They would put heavy restrictions on who I interacted with till the late teens.

And it didn't help that I was bullied throughout highschool.

So hello anxiety, depression and self esteem issues.

Being depressed has become a second nature for me. Even though it's been five years since I moved out, I still slip into bouts of depression. No amount of therapy or medication can fix the damage they did to me.

They gaslighted me like the fourth of July. Everyday there was this fix menu of insults which they flung my way, like daggers.

-> you are a disappointment. -> you are abusive -> I have given birth to a monster (that's my mom's favourite line) -> you deserve to die/ you shouldn't have been born( this was said like four times but it counts!)

And the funny thing is if anyone else were to say this to me, anyone other than my family, they would be on the ground with a broken nose.

I mean, why would your own family say such things to you, right?

So I have never spoken about this. I want to move on so bad, but the scars on my legs and my heart are a painful reminder.

I can't even say I'm a survivor because I still suffer. Even though I'm thousands of miles away from them, they always call to tell me 'how I have distanced myself from them' and how 'they don't deserve to be cut off from their daughter's life'.

That really sends me off. It pisses me so much that they are so proud and blinded by this false sense of superiority that they can't see how words hurt. I want to shout at them and tell them how I have a record of how many times I wanted to take my life because of them.

But I don't.

Because they will end up saying I'm hypersensitive and a habitual liar.

I mean what is even the point?

So yeah... I built up a fortress, brick by brick, making my walls high so that absolutely no one can come in.

No one can hurt me.

No one can have that insane power over me.

And no one can see the ugly scars.

But as I stare at those honey brown eyes, with flecks if gold, I find my resolve crumbling. I find myself stumbling.

After the entire ordeal of bullying and gaslighting, I became a very good judge of character... And for the first time in a very long time, I actually see genuine concern.

That someone actually wants my wellbeing. That someone actually gives a damn about me.

And that's scary.

Every time I edge towards opening up, my conscience drags me back, saying that 'This is all a foil to hurt me.'

But... I don't feel the kind of security anywhere but in Bryce's arms. I never feel the reassurance from anywhere but from Bryce. He had been supportive, caring and the affection he shows me is slowly filling up the void my parents left in me.

"Aliya, you know that I'm there for you right?" He said as he placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling me out if my reverie.

And that did it.

That gave me the push to take the leap.

The leap of faith.

Faith that he will catch me when I'm falling apart and he will catch me when I am falling for him.

I took a sharp inhale, and looked up at him, tears welling up in my eyes. That one word, which I had struggled to say all my life, slipped off my tongue like butter.

"No.... I'm not okay."

This was word vomit at its finest.

I might end up deleting it 

Bryce X MC: @loveellamae @lilyvalentine @sanchita012 @zeniamiii @lucy-268 @raleigheffingcarrera @have-aheart @utterlyinevitable @rookie-ramsey

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @dailydoseofchoices @tyrilstouch @siaramsey @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie @junggoku @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine @crazynutella @hatescapsicum 

[adhdstudybitch]

Practical Tips for ADHD College Students

I know a few posts like this already exist, but I wanted to add my own experiences to the mix in case it would be helpful to someone else. Some of these will look familiar, some not so much.

Disclaimers: 1) What works for me may not work for you, take everything with a grain of salt and experiment, 2) These are what I’m using for a 4-year school but I imagine it would be applicable for any college? I wish I’d known to do some of these things when I was at CC, 3) I won’t pretend that I am an ADHD success story, not yet. I’m still finding my way, learning to cope, learning to thrive. It’s a process.

NOTE: This post is kinda long; if it’s too long I recommend just reading the bolded/italicized headings and only reading the ones that pique your interest :)

Sensory Issues:

Wear comfortable clothing: Screw the mentality that you always have to look your best in college. At the end of the day, feeling hot but ridiculously uncomfortable will trigger sensory issues (especially if you’re someone who is sensitive to certain materials/styles of clothing) and it will impact concentration and can cause a lot of distress. Are you comfortable in those sweatpants, pajama bottoms, baggy shirts? Cool, wear them. 

Stim toys: Love yourself, buy (or make!) stim toys and bring them to school. Can’t speak for CC because I didn’t use stim toys when I went, but at my 4-year school everyone is too busy drowning in deadlines to notice you squishing thinking putty or using a fidget cube under the table. 

Try different stim toys: I used to get caught up on trying to make the more popular stim toys work for me when they didn’t, so I had to experiment a bit to see what worked. It’s not always as simple as cubes, spinners, squishy toys, etc. If you have issues with texture you’ll want to really experiment, especially with things like putty, squishibles, etc. to see what is comfortable and what isn’t. But there’s a big ol’ market out there!

Headphones/Earplugs: The single most helpful sensory detail for me was always bringing my headphones to campus. I get easily overstimulated in uncontrolled situations with lots of different sounds. I make sure my volume is enough to block the noise out, but the songs I choose in these instances are usually familiar, so they don’t provide too much new stimulation when I can’t handle it. I also keep earplugs in my backpack for exams.

Studying/School Related:

If possible, leave your house: This has been one of the hardest changes I’ve had to make because I’m an introvert and genuinely prefer being home. But I’m starting to learn that my ass will not do work 9/10 times when I’m home. Too much to do, too many other things to get done, lots of fun distractions, and cats! So many cats! Unfortunately cats won’t take my exams. I’ve found that the library is okay, but for me small cafes worked much better. Armed with my headphones, some coffee, and an atmosphere that caters to silently getting work done, I’m able to focus longer, and to focus on what I really need to.

Note-taker: Admittedly I’m talking out of my ass on this one, because I haven’t yet done this. But that’s exactly why I want to stress getting a note-taker. My college life would be infinitely better if I’d done this when the semester started; instead, my notes have gaps where I couldn’t concentrate, or couldn’t process what was being discussed, etc. 

Other accommodations: Accommodations for ADHD differ depending on the college, but some of the common ones are: note-takers, silent exam spaces, assignment extensions, and use of tech such as recorders, speech-to-text software... If you’re like I was and are worried that you’re asking too much asking for accommodations, remember two important things: 1) Accommodations exist to level the playing field, not to give us an edge, and 2) YOU PAY FOR THIS SERVICES. That huge, overwhelming tuition bill with all those “extra fees”? You’re paying for these services already, might as well take advantage of them!

Talk to your professors: This part is truly terrifying for me, but I’ve started opening up this semester to my professors and it has made a difference. The professor for my hardest class actually has a son with adhd so she understood and was even able to provide me with some resources that would help. At the very least, it made my professors aware of my struggles and aware that I wasn’t just being lazy, which calmed my RSD a bit.

Organization: Staying organized is important for any college student, but especially for those with adhd. We lose things a lot, and if things aren’t in obvious, constant places it becomes so much easier to lose or forget where we put things. That being said, your ‘organized’ will probably not be other peoples ‘organized’. For example, I use my Ipsy bags for organization. One holds any writing utensils, flashcards, and post-its, another holds anything medical-related, etc. It seems a bit cluttered and disorganized to other people but it works for me. So try keeping things in the same spot if possible, but remember that finding what organizational structures work for you might take time and effort. If your school has success coaching, I highly recommend it for this purpose! Which brings me to the next point.

Success Coaching: Most colleges offer some kind of program like this, though names may differ. Success Coaching is designed for students of any academic level in order to help them get and stay on track. My college offers study skills, schedule planning, test prep, time management, help navigating campus resources, and a whole host of others. And the people doing the coaching are usually grad students who’ve been through the process. They’re typically trained in working with students with adhd, because that tends to be a significant portion of their students. They’re also just really nice to talk to. Almost like a therapist, but not quite.

Really forgetful? The best thing you can do is change your environment, not try to change yourself. You probably won’t be able to stop your brain from forgetting your notebook at home, but you can get a five subject and keep it in your backpack at all times. Same with folders. Keep losing pens/pencils? Just get a fuckton and shove them in a pouch in your backpack in the beginning of the semester. I’m not kidding when I say I have at least 20 pens and pencils in mine, not including the glitter pens and highlighters. 

Planners: Many people have said that it will take time to find just the right planner for you, and they’re correct. The planner I use right now is 8x11 with wide boxes. Some prefer smaller planners, others will use planner apps or just the calendar in their phone. You’ll have to mess around a bit to see what works for you, but you do have options!

Printables: Oh man I love printables so much, but a lot of the time I find that they’re more trouble maintaining than my adhd can handle. You can find a ton on tumblr, free to download and print, and some very beautiful packs for sale on etsy. Right now I use a monthly budget printable and one for studying terms/definitions. Sometimes the adhd mind needs something pretty and different to cling to, so I try to switch things up every so often.

Color-coding: This absolutely will not work for everyone (I’ve seen people say color-coding notes gets the hung up on the coding and not the notes, and I can definitely see that happening). For me, I use color-coding in my planner. Each class gets its own color. This keeps me from seeing a page covered in the same color of ink or pencil and mentally blocking it out. Gelly roll has the most amazing glitter pens!

Test prep: Will vary depending on the person and how they learn best, but for me I’ve found that no one method will work on its own. I have class notes, typed notes, hand-written flashcards, flashcards on quizlet. I won’t pretend that it’s easy; it’s fuck-all time consuming and sometimes I don’t have energy for it, but depending on the class I usually need a combination of at least two different methods to work. This is definitely something success coaching can work with you to figure out!

General Life Advice (that will impact college):

Get on a sleep schedule: I don’t even care what your particular schedule is (because it’ll vary person to person) but just get on one. Much easier said than done, because our brains never want to shut up at night, but lack of a consistent sleep schedule will mess with your concentration, focus, hypersensitivity, etc. 

I’ll just do this later...: is the adhd monster talking. What even is later? Does it exist? Sometimes I have to tell myself “nope, we’re doing this right now!” Doesn’t always work, but I try my hardest to do things in the moment if executive dysfunction isn’t at my door.

Develop a support system: This can be difficult because sometimes making and maintaining friendships with adhd can be hard, and sometimes family members aren’t very receptive or supportive. But a strong support system can make all the difference in the world! If your current friends don’t understand the extent of what you’re dealing with, send some resources their way and you might be surprised how fast they get in your corner. But sometimes people without adhd just don’t get it. If your college has a meet-up for students with adhd like mine does, this is a great place to meet like-minded students who understand what you’re going through and can provide support and advice! 

I’m going to stop this here because it’s already too long, but I hope this is helpful to someone and I’d love it if you could add your own tips as well! 

[arnavsinghraizada]

Obedience

Rated: M for MMmmmmm I shouldn’t have done this 

Word Count: 2558

working title: arnav is a dom and someone should say it (obviously this fic contains elements of dominance, some very light/gentle throat action, and like my god its... really heterosexual so if any of that is not your thing, this probably isnt)

Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada didn’t like being told what to do. Not in a general sense, at least. It chafed her free and independent spirit when people - Arnav - thought they could order her about and expect their dictates obeyed without question. It could potentially be argued that if she didn’t like being told what to do, she should’ve thought of that before she married a man notorious for telling everyone, including people he didn’t know, what to do. Although if that were the case, it could also be argued that the man in question should have thought twice before marrying a disobedient woman… twice. 

And while it irritated her beyond belief when he would storm into the house, into their bedroom, all ablaze with irritation from his workday, she also couldn’t deny that it did… something to her to watch him yank at his tie and tear at his cufflinks. A muscle in his jaw would be flexing, his hair beginning to escape its careful styling to hang forwards over his blazing eyes in a manner that could only be described as decidedly roguish. She would watch in silence while the cold tycoon was replaced by her fiery husband. It was strange. Anger had been such a defining aspect of their relationship, she wasn’t sure what it was about his anger within the walls of their bedroom, especially when it wasn’t directed at her, that made her want to be in his line of fire. It made her want to be burned to cinders by his fire. 

She needed help. She’d married Arnav, of course she needed help. 

She especially knew she needed it when she, who hated being told what to do, would feel an odd sort of thrill creep up her spine when he would fix her with a certain look. That shiver was often the precursor to each and every one of her bones turning into a puddle of mush, replaced by a liquid heat whenever he would draw near. He would stand behind her, so close that she could feel the heat from his chest burning through the back of her clothes, lean down so he could rub the rough stubble of his cheek against hers, smirking against her hypersensitive flesh when she’d shiver in response. It was embarrassing. He knew exactly what he was doing. And then he would have the audacity to put his arms around her, his hands wrapping around hers in a stilling grip, holding her captive in the cage of his embrace. Sometimes, she’d wonder whether he knew she felt like a doe trapped by an arrow when he did that, but when he’d press his body against hers and hold her wrists still against the counter so she couldn’t move, she had her answer. He knew exactly what he was doing. He’d told her once that he could totally disarm her, strip her of her every defense. He wasn’t wrong. He could strip her of more than her defenses, if she was being entirely candid. 

But she didn’t like being told what to do. Not when he would trace the shell of her ear with his lips, ignoring the fact that he had her cornered in the kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. Definitely not when she would try to ignore the dark heat unfurling in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She didn’t like being ordered about when he would tell her he wanted her upstairs immediately after dinner. 

“Don’t make me say it again,” he’d whisper into her ear, his arms tightening around her as he spoke. “If I have to come down here to get you, there’ll be consequences.” He’d accentuate his words by catching the lobe of her ear with his teeth in a sharp nip of warning and she’d barely manage to swallow her cry of surprise. 

Consequences. What the hell did that mean? And who exactly did he think he was, threatening her with consequences if she didn’t present herself to him in a timely fashion? She’d meant to tell him just that when he’d give her a final squeeze before he’d disappear into the living room, leaving her flushed and feeling as if every nerve in her body was on fire. 

He’d keep his eyes on her throughout dinner, tracking her every movement while she bustled around the table, serving everyone. She’d pretend she didn’t feel his fingers brushing over hers in a brazen gesture of ownership everytime she handed him something, pretending she didn’t feel his hand take up residence at the small of her back while she stood pouring somebody a glass of water. Eventually, his patience would run out, and he’d grab her wrist in a restricting grip again, tugging her towards the seat beside him. Immediately, the smiles and the teasing would begin. 

‘Oh Chote, you take such good care of Khushiji!’

‘Phati Sari lives a life of luxury, I see!’

She almost wished she could announce it there, that the only reason he was so concerned with making sure she ate quickly was because he had … nefarious intentions with her. But that would go against his instructions, not to mention embarrass everyone else, and she knew well that Arnav expected to be obeyed to a fault. Especially when it came to matters of the … bedroom. So she’d eaten in silence, nearly biting a chunk of her tongue off when his errant hand started a wayward journey up her thigh under the table. Casting a stern glance his way, she’d halted its progress dangerously close to its destination, closing her own fingers around his and squeezing in silent warning. Far from being cowed, he squeezed right back, grinning rakishly at her and tugging her hand towards his own lap instead. Helpless to resist, she could do nothing but fix him with a displeased stare as he deposited her hand on his thigh before he resumed eating his dinner like he hadn’t just tried to grope her at a table full of people and wasn’t now daring her to do the same. 

Fine. Maybe she would. She pictured her fingers trailing upwards, firmly grasping the length of him and squeezing. Not hard enough to have him be useless to her for the next few hours, but firmly enough to let him know she could be in charge too. She caught his gaze then, saw the challenge there and decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. Instead, she began to trail her fingers downwards, intending to return her hand to her own lap when he caught it and kept it trapped in his grasp. He made no move to return either of their hands to any risky areas, seeming content at that moment to simply grasp it in his own. She was suspicious. 

Jiji and Di volunteered to clean up after dinner, ensuring that Khushi had no excuse other than to watch her husband climb the stairs and cast a look of warning back at her before he disappeared into their room. Part of her balked at the thought of obeying his imperious summons, almost inviting the consequences he’d threatened her with earlier. The other half almost ached to follow him blindly and obey his every word. Her feet were moving before she even knew it. She was up the stairs and standing in the doorway of their room before she’d realized which half had won. He seemed to sense her gaze on him and turned to face her, his dark eyes taking in the sight of her poised at the door. 

“I said I wanted you inside.” Arnav said simply, crossing his arms across his chest, and the flex of the muscle against his sweater, which was really too tight, sent a thrill immediately down to her very core. 

“You said you wanted me upstairs,” she reminded him snidely, taking a tiny step backwards so she stood just outside of their door. “I’m upstairs. Technically, I haven’t disobeyed a word.” 

A grin spread across her face when his expression shifted to a stern look of displeasure. 

“You know what I mean-” 

“I’m afraid I don’t,” she interrupted on a breathless laugh, dancing backwards as he began to advance. “You’ll have to be more specific next time.” 

“Oh, I’ll be plenty specific in a minute,” he growled, and she felt her insides tighten in anticipation at the dark promise in his voice. 

“Don’t push me, Khushi,” he said softly, his hands braced on either side of the doorway, his eyes blazing in her direction with unspoken warnings. “I’ll come after you, and I’ll take what I want wherever I catch you.” 

She should have been scandalized by the threat. Instead, she felt hot and on-edge, eager to test whether he would make good on his warning. She took another wobbling step backwards, delighting in the primal noise that escaped him. Arnav lunged for her before she had a chance to make her escape, pinning her against the wall and aligning his body with hers so she could feel every muscular, hard inch. 

“When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done.” He whispered against her ear, his hands giving her pinned wrists an admonishing squeeze. 

“You don’t tell me what to do.” She whispered the words that had bubbled beneath the surface of her lust all night, revelling in the expression that came over his face. In the way he shifted to scoop her into his arms and moved decidedly into the bedroom. 

Khushi gave a soft gasp of surprise as he tossed her onto the bed, shutting and locking the door behind him. She’d barely caught her breath when he pounced on her, settling his body possessively over hers. Her thighs instinctively fell open to cradle him and the masculine sound of approval he made was nearly her undoing. 

“I don’t tell you what to do?” Arnav breathed softly, his mouth hovering over hers, brushing against her lips, once, twice. His hands found their way up her body, pausing in their ascent to take stock of their favourite places, to trace their favourite curves, before one came to rest at the base of her throat, his fingers curling around the shape of her throat, massaging the soft skin there in a blatant gesture of dominance. His other hand dipped beneath her bodice to toy with her aching flesh, molding to the shape of her breast. 

She couldn’t find the words to respond, tossing her head in wordless protest, even as a desperate sound tore from her throat as she arched towards him. He pulled back, his eyes taking in the flush spreading its way across her face and chest. The raw intimacy in his gaze, the fact that they both knew that he knew from experience exactly how far the flush spread beneath her clothes brought a surge of raw heat to her aching centre that had her squirming beneath him. 

Arnav sat back and motioned for her to sit up with the crook of his finger. She obeyed, immediately regretting it when he smirked in response, yanking her against him. 

“Don’t I though? I don’t even have to tell you, you’re so eager to submit to me.” 

One hand tangled in her hair, angling her head back to bare her throat to him in a primal gesture of submission. The other reached around to yank at the fastenings to her shirt and when he snarled impatiently and the sound of tearing fabric reached her ears, Khushi couldn’t bring herself to be anything other than jelly in his arms. He was peeling the cloth away from her heated body, his mouth instantly devouring the skin he bared. She felt him nip at her throat, and she cried out even as he soothed the sting with his tongue. He pulled her pants off and she was sure they joined the scraps of her shirt somewhere on the floor of their bedroom. 

His hands braced on either side of her head as he bore down over her, fully clothed in contrast to her naked form that welcomed the cool air. Her body reacted to the fire in his regard and she pressed her thighs together in a desperate attempt to alleviate the ache between them. His eyes caught the movement and a low noise of pleasure came from him.

“Mine,” he growled against her skin, his mouth closing over her breast while his hand pushed between her thighs and stroked the slick heat there. A moan tore from her throat, his fingers and tongue building a wave within her that threatened to burst forth and destroy them both. 

“Say it,” he pressed, pushing a finger into where she ached for him the most and she nodded wordlessly, desperately, in response, threading her fingers through his dark hair and pulling his head back to her. 

“Give me the words, Khushi,” he growled, going still in the worst sort of torment. “Come on, baby, give them to me.” 

“Yours,” she cried out, reaching for him and gasping in pleasure when he folded himself into her waiting arms, resuming his ministrations. “All yours.”

He pressed his thumb against the centre of her, rubbing in a delicate circle that robbed her of her ability to breathe before he pushed down hard in a move that made the wave that had been hovering over her for so long come crashing down. She was dimly aware of the sound of his name on her lips, falling forth like the most ardent prayer repeated time and time again. 

He answered by pulling away long enough to rip his shirt off over his head and toss it aside, yanking at his sweatpants with the same desperation and returning to her body. They both moaned at the contact of their bare skin, and her fingers took the opportunity to leave his hair and explore the ripples of muscle that lined his chest and abdomen. An odd sort of satisfaction stole through her at the thought that this magnificent specimen of masculinity belonged to her. That she held his reins firmly in her hands. 

He shifted his body for a moment and, without a word, she spread her legs for him, allowing his hands to angle her hips for him. He made a sound of approval at her acquiescence that drove a thrill of heat through her before he lowered his body over hers again and kissed her. His body moved against hers and she threw her head back, digging her nails into his back and arching up to meet him, the wave of heat within her building again. Her moans melded with his as she wound herself around him, no longer sure of where she ended and where he began. 

And when she thought she simply couldn’t bear anymore, that he would take from her until she could give no more, he let her go over the edge again and joined her there. And when he gathered her up in his arms afterwards, holding her close, placing gentle kisses on her forehead, and stroking up and down her back, she found it within herself to admit one small thing. Maybe - just maybe - Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada didn’t mind being told what to do after all.