#My posts would get a lot longer though and I notice people are less likely to spread and share very long posts

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for Writing and Drawing Amputees: Bandaged Stumps

When writing and drawing amputee characters, unless your character only just lost their limb, they don't need to wear a bandage over their stumps.

to be clear, eda's depiction in the show was fine, since she'd only just lost her arm and went (presumably) without any medical attention, but because the show didn't have much time to show her afterwards, I've noticed a tendency of the fandom to draw her wearing the bandage permanently, so that's why I'm picking on her for my example lol.

It's a bit of a trope at this point, and I think it comes from one of a few different places:

Amputees do wear bandages on their stumps, but usually only for the first 6-12 weeks post-amputation, sometimes longer if the amputation was a result of a burn. It's possible people saw this though and assumed it was permanent.

Most amputees wear a sock made of either cotton or silicone under their prosthetics to provide them with some extra padding. These socks, called liners, often stick out from the top of the prosthetic socket and could possibly be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

Some amputees will wear compression garments for a few months to a few years after their amputations which could also be mistaken for a bandage from a distance. These garments are designed to stop swelling and reduce phantom pain, but they aren't bandages.

Stumps get cold easier because their circulation typically isn't as good as the rest of the body, so some amputees will wear socks over them even if they aren't wearing a prosthetic to keep warm, which again could be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

This one is funny, but in my experience unfortunately, it's the most common: people think the end of an amputee's stump is just a perpetual open wound that never heals. Meaning to avoid "gore" it needs to be covered. I've met fully grown adults who believed this until I showed up to work/uni without my prosthetics or socks on.

People are uncomfortable with seeing an uncovered stump and so put bandages over it to avoid confronting their biases.

Some combination of these points.

But yeah, unless your amputee has only just lost their limb in the last few weeks, they don't need a bandage.

The ironic thing too, is that for most amputees, bandaging a stump is nearly impossible. I've been in and out of hospital since I was 1 year old and only ever met 3 nurses and no doctors/surgeons who could successfully bandage my stump in a way that the bandage would even stay on. This is because stumps are usually tapered in shape (meaning they are wider at the top, closer to the body, and thinner at the bottom), so gravity will pull the bandage off 9 times out of 10.

On a final note: it's ok to show your amputee's stump, it's not gore, there's no blood, it just looks like a regular limb that just stops early. In fact, if you are writing/creating anything for kids or that is likely to be seen by kids, I encourage you to show your amputee's stumps at least once. I used to work on a disability awareness program for kids, and I lost count of the amount of times kids were terrified of me, because they all expected my leg to be bloody and gory. For a lot of kids, I was their first real-life exposure to an amputee, meaning they'd never even heard of people like me, or they had seen an amputee on TV, but because the show went out of its way to avoid showing the person's stump, they assumed it must have been because there was "something scary at the end" that they weren't supposed to see (kids are surprisingly perceptive, they will pick up on stuff like that without you realising). And scared kids aren't good at articulating why they're scared, and would often say really mean or hurtful things to me. I knew not to take it personally and learned how to handle those situations, but not everyone is used to dealing with kids. For a new amputee (or anyone who's less confident in their disability), the kinds of things those kids would say could be absolutely confidence destroying. I never blame the kids, it's not their fault, but the whole situation could have been avoided if they had seen people like us before they had the chance to hear the wrong info. Good representation like this can be the difference between a kid crying, making throw-up sounds and calling an amputee "disgusting monsters" (all things I've had kids do/say) and them just being like "oh ok, cool."

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: just read through your entire liveblog and wow. what a place to catch up. do you have any predictions about what the postscratch versions of the guardians will be? what about the guardian versions of the kids?

So.

Mom Lalonde, Grandpa Harley, Nanna Egbert, and Bro Strider, reborn as the story's protagonists, and thrust into a Playerdom I never expected them to bear. The consequences of this reveal are likely to kick in on the very next page - and since that's a page I'm clicking on tonight, this is my last chance for some blind speculation.

There are an absolute mountain of angles I could potentially cover here, and it's impossible to address all the implications of this twist, so I'm just going to touch on a few key questions that Act 6 will need to answer sooner rather than later.

Without further ado, let's dive into our first question.

Who, exactly, is raising these kids?

The simplest solution, of course, would be a one-to-one exchange between each Player and their Guardian. That certainly seems to be the case for Jade and Grandpa, who have been directly swapped. This would imply that Rose raised Mom, Dave raised Bro, and John might have raised Nanna. (More on that later.)

Still, that's not the only possibility. There's no reason why Dave couldn't raise the adolescent Mom instead, for example, with Rose adopting the younger Bro in his stead. That particular configuration has a lot of character potential, actually, because Bro Lalonde would undoubtedly be an unholy terror, and Mom Strider might just be one of the coolest characters I've ever conceived of.

This aesthetic, with those shades? Come on.

...all that said, though, I'm fairly sure we are just getting a one-to-one swap. That's how it appears to have worked for the trolls, and the one post-Scratch Player with a confirmed Guardian already matches this pattern.

Plus, swapping the kids with their own parents is just so interesting, on a character level, as it'd add a whole new dimension of analysis to the fucked-up relationships between Bro & Dave, Mom & Rose, and Grandpa & Jade.

Seeing how they all treat each other, now that the roles have been reversed, would be incredibly illuminating, and might shed some light on the thought processes of the pre-Scratched Guardians, as they were raising their own respective charges.

Anyway - now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about each individual family.

The Egberts

Astute readers will notice that I only mentioned the Guardian-Player parallels for three of our Players above - and that's because when it comes to the fourth, there's a slight complication.

Namely, Dad Egbert no longer exists.

This means that Nanna's home life can't parallel John's, because the man who raised John was never even born. It's possible, then, that John will simply raise Nanna himself, as her grandfather.

Honestly, that's the scenario I'm hoping for, here. Out of our four original Players, I think that John would be the best parent by far - he's sweet, resilient, and has a natural talent for nurturing the positive qualities of the people he loves. If a baby lands in his backyard, he's going to rise to the challenge, octogenarianism be damned.

...now, here's where I'd speculate a little about Nanna's personality, but she's the one post-Scratch Player I can't really get a bead on. We only ever interacted with her Spritesona, whose personality was obviously corrupted by the presence of the jester doll.

As a result, I don't really have a clue what Nanna will be like. The only thing I'm sure about, if John's the one raising her, is that she'll be loved.

The Striders

First of all, I have faith in Dave.

I think he's more or less guaranteed to be a better Guardian than his brother ever was. Granted, I don't think Dave would be particularly paternal, but I also think he'll be able to refrain from beating Bro's ass with a puppet, which is progress.

I think Dave would be a laissez-faire type of guardian, who allows the younger Bro a lot more agency and autonomy than other kids his age, but also struggles to be the adult in the room when his kid needs guidance. He's not going to be as traumatized as his younger self, but I bet it's still borderline impossible to have a serious conversation with him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Kid Bro turned out to be the more mature of the pair.

In a nutshell, Dave was born to be a cool uncle, but was forced unwittingly into a parental role instead. He's doing his best.

Quite frankly, I'm very worried about Kid Bro.

If we assume that every Paradox Clone keeps the same Veil item as last time - and there's no reason why they wouldn't - then Bro will be coming down with Lil' Cal, the cursed puppet created by Gamzee's Chucklevoodoos.

I'm still convinced that long-term exposure to this abomination was the main reason Bro was so batshit insane, and while the younger Bro won't have been around it for quite as long, he'll still have thirteen years of an evil Juggalo's Rage miasma being beamed into his brain.

I think Kid Bro will be a little batshit, but not completely batshit. We'll see a child with the potential to become the deranged ventriloquist who tormented Dave, but one who can still be saved, if we can just get that hell puppet away from him.

Separated from Cal, I still think Bro will be a memelord, and I'm sure not all his interests came from the puppet. I think this guy was always destined to be a pretty bizarre dude - but with luck, this iteration of him will be a little more pleasant to be around.

The Lalondes

Rose... could go either way, honestly.

Just like Dave, I don't think she's the type who'd willingly choose to be a parent. Rose doesn't want a baby, she wants a library full of cursed tomes, a coven of witches to scheme with, and to live in an enormous gothic castle with her wife, Kanaya Maryam. Her ideal lifestyle couldn't handle a kid, and I think she's self-aware enough to know that, and adopt a hundred mutant kittens instead.

That said... if she had to raise a daughter, I think she'd try her best to do right by the girl. I think some part of her would absolutely resent the fact that she's a background character in someone else's life - especially if, like the Sufferer, she remembers being a Player - but she'd do everything she could to keep that resentment to herself.

Rose would be an alright mother. A little cold, maybe, and more than a little distant, but she'd still love her Roxy.

As for Roxy, I can only assume she's a gigantic fucking badass. Even among the Guardians, her barehanded combat feats were always astounding, and I think she and Kid Bro will be the primary combatants of their session.

I also think she'll be one of the most analytical, scientifically-minded Players we've ever seen. Her adult self was experimenting with Ectobiology even outside of Sburb, which suggests to me an intense curiosity about how all this shit works, which isn't present in most of our other heroes. Like Rose, she'll be a researcher, and maybe even a Seer - but while Rose searched for the truth via magic and mysticism, Roxy's research will be entirely scientific.

Honestly, the most exciting thing about finally meeting Roxy is the milestone it'll represent. I'll finally, finally have encountered every character I knew about prior to starting the comic.

The Harleys

Grandma Jade was still the Witch of Space, and was clearly aware of that fact.

This tells us that:

John, Rose and Dave also retained their Titles, even if they don't know it.

Grandma Jade was probably aware of Sburb and its secrets, especially if she was living near the Frog Temple.

Grandma Jade was the Witch of Space. She's gone.

...and I have a theory about what happened to her.

I think that when Grandpa was a baby, Jade travelled to Anachronism Island, just like her predecessor did - but this time around, it wasn't Bec who greeted her at the Temple.

No, I think Jade had a fatal encounter with the new First Guardian of Earth - a corrupted First Guardian, spliced with the same HONK code that created Scratch. Kid Grandpa clearly survived whatever happened next, and I think it's horribly plausible that the new First Guardian is a pseudo-Guardian to him, the same way Becquerel was to Jade.

In other words, this kid might be completely compromised, manipulated by English's servant since infancy. Let's not forget that he's the one who suggested making the bunny to Jade, which is the reason Jack was able to ascend in the first place...

...but someone suggested it to him, first.

Anyway, those are my high-level thoughts about the new timeline's key players. We'll be starting Act 6 in an hour or so, and I've got a feeling that we're about to see Nanna standing in a very familiar room.

After all, it just so happens that today...

[starrieangel]

🩵 Post Crash Rescued! Curly Headcanons 🩵

Headcanons for a recovered Curly, and just babbling about what his life might be like ♡

Random Headcanons for my favorite character 🩵 I seriously think abt him a lot and what his life might be like, so this is the culmination of all of my Curly daydreams ~

He's way better at technology now. Like before he acted like a dad who could barely use facebook, but after learning how to use a computer using just his eye movements, you could say he's reasonably tech savvy. 

He has a speech impediment. I imagine he couldn't talk on the tulpar because of some sort of paralysis or maybe nerve damage, but with some speech therapy and physical therapy, he learns to speak again. He's still not great at it though, his voice is very soft, so mostly uses his aac device so others can understand him. 

His shorter leg gives him more pain than his longer one. He has to use a cane sometimes for that side. (My reasoning is because the shorter leg is the one Jimmy hacked away oops, he's a worse surgeon than Anya I guess)

He's not all that insecure about his appearance, all things considered. Yes it's weird to look in the mirror and see someone totally different, but he just tries to keep good humor about it and stay positive (laugh to keep from crying at times). I'm sure he does mourn his good looks, but most of all he misses his hair. He doesn't think he looks ugly though, and he doesn't talk down to himself for his looks, because he wasn't all that vain to begin with. 

That being said, he does actually get pretty upset when people stare at him in public. He doesn't say anything, but you can sense he gets a bit quieter when he notices it. It's worse when it's kids, or (his absolute nightmare) a kid crying or making a comment about his appearance, saying he looks scary. That always makes him feel bad. :( 

He carries candy in his pockets. Not for himself, but to give to kids, because he doesn't want them to think he's scary. He actually really appreciates when a kid approaches him and just asks him a question instead of crying or running away. He'll crouch down and let them look at his prosthetic up close, or explain to them how his aac device works. ♡

Even though he hates the negative attention he might get, he still normally doesn't wear sunglasses or a mask to hide his face. He doesn't want to feel like he has to hide, just wants to be a normal guy, which he is..! But he still tries to frequent the same places, to get less attention. For example, the baristas at his favorite coffee shop all recognize him, and the baggers at the grocery store. It makes him feel like a regular joe again. :)

He has an emotional support cat in his apartment ♡ If this is after the Tulpar, then it's for the trauma of losing his crew at the hands of his best friend, etc. If it's an earth au, then it's just to cope with the trauma of being in some sort of accident and having to start a new life, and the hardships of relearning to walk and take care of himself again. 

He was already a cozy guy, but now he's even cozier. Loves warm drinks, sitting with his cat, fireplaces, books. He loves books. He kind of liked reading before, especially historical fiction, but he always liked his other hobbies more. Now that it's harder to do his more active hobbies, he utilizes that time to read all of the books he's always wanted to read. I imagine if he worked, he would work at a bookstore :) (Manager of course, he is the Captain, afterall!) ♡

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[bleue-flora]

Hi hi i am curious abt how u imagen c!dream to look like? :3 cause tbh the eye nipples are not it

And does he look different any of your fics?

[context]

Hmm… good question. I actually was thinking about this back in September when thinking about what Dream’s ghost would look like, and came up with this idea that the cloak Dream wore more in the beginning of the server was his skin color and had cat ears just like the hats ccDream wears. I also was thinking about how I added parts of Punz’s skin onto Punz’s armor in my art like the black stripe [here], so what if Dream has something similar with the smily face. So last night I altered my art [original] to kinda demonstrate what I mean, it’s not like a final draft or anything, but just to get the idea.

But basically this is one way we could interpret Dream’s skin, where he could either be wearing white or have like white belts, has a smily face on his chest plate and a neon green cloak. So this is more or less what I imagine Dream looked like pre-prison, though slightly different like his hair would be short (and maybe instead of wearing his parrot’s feathers in his hair like shown he has an earring or something plus he also wears rings of course like ccDream), and his cloak and clothes wouldn’t be baggy and ragged like is shown - those were just already there originally. Though I think someone talked sometime about Dream’s clothes getting darker and darker as time went on and I love the symbolism of that so I do think his clothes were lighter greens and grays and the white (still the same cloak though), so this look of all black would be after the dethronement.

Dream in prison looks like… well something like how I did him for my Musical Chairs art [original]

with his hair getting that shaggy longer look and starting to grey at the roots. Technically he probably should look thinner (and canonically based on his skin he should have a mask… and maybe his jumper should be neon green) but… like I also picture him not unlike Oliver Queen from Arrow who is very fit, like if this were a movie or tv show, personally I want characters to be pretty, that’s part of the appeal :) so he will be scarred but not to the point of like gross to look at. He’d also be paler than the picture shown, which just has residual shading from the og, because man hasn’t seen the sun in a long while. And he does have a shirt on when people are around (besides Quackity of course :] lol)

And well like I said I did art for how I see post-prison Dream [here], though I think ever since I noticed the map which confirmed the timeline of staged duo’s experiments [post], I’ve started questioning how I see Dream and whether or not I think they did a lot of death experiments on each other [post], so I think the post-prison Dream I see now includes a lot less white streaks in his hair than my art. If he had long hair I also imagine he wore it in a braid a lot… though honestly in my head he often has short hair so maybe he only has long hair in Crow’s Nest and Niki teaches him to braid it…

But yeah in general, as far as how he looks for my fics… you’ll notice I don’t really describe that beside things like eye color and injuries because I want the reader to be able to imagine Dream with whatever headcanon they have (similarly to how I write the more intimate moments between staged duo in a way that if you ship them it still works). Perhaps that’s why you are asking lol… umm most of my fics are in a timeline of sorts and meant to fit into canon, of course in If The Crown Fits, Wear It Dream wears a crown post-prison. In Good Cop ‘Bad’ Cop I think Dream’s clothes and stuff would be a little less like ripped up and bloody since it wasn’t super obvious to Bad. Also since in lore he loses his armor when scrapped lore happens and when Tommy kills him, there would actually be three different looking sets for the post-prison Dream look. In the Haunted House Timeline, which sticks to canon up until the events of Crow’s Nest, Dream would look less ragged since he stayed at Techno’s for a while so he gained some weight back and looks more healthy overall… in general though they are look very similar because they are all canon compliant. :)

[karlachismylife]

Already I find myself in your asks ehehe

I notice I didn't give you the required banana for my first ask so here, to make up for it: 🍌

And three for this ask as well! 🍌🍌🍌 (you'll see why so many banan in a moment... Apologies in advance)

I have three language questions! :D

I read through one of your posts about affectionate nicknames and cool nicknames and the like. A lot of the examples had "ka" at the end (for the cutesy names). Is there a reason for this? Like etymology wise?

This could be COMPLETELY wrong but I heard "babushka" can be super insulting. Like. People would hate you on the street for saying it. But also... grandma?? So????

So I notice a lot of writers have Russian characters speak English then substitute a word for Russian. (In the specific example that made me think of this it was "Get out of my way идиот") Is this common for actual Russian native speakers that also learn/know English? If so does it go the other way around too? (like do those speaking full Russian sentences sometimes use English words?)(I would imagine not. No real reason for me to think that though)

Thank you very much for sharing all of your knowledge!! It is well appreciated :]

Yassss thank you for the bananas!!! They are very needed after two exams in a row.

Ending "-ka" in words.

Yes, there is a reason for this. If we simplify, Russian words have following structure: prefix + root + suffix + ending. Let's talk about nouns only for now to make it easier, but other parts of speech follow more or less the same general rules with some corrections.

The root is, well, the root, it carries the main meaning of the word, names the thing itself.

Ending is changeable when we put words in different cases, it does not change the meaning of the word, it only changes the grammatical form. When we say "I am a gorilla" and "I see a gorilla" in Russian these will be two different cases and therefore the ending will change ("я горилла" [ya gorilla] VS "я вижу гориллу" [ya vizhu gorillu]).

Prefixes and/or suffixes are added to change the MEANING of the word. This way we can form words with entirely new meanings (still tied to the root of the word, so for example we take the word окно [okno] (window), give it a prefix and a suffix and get подоконник [podokonnik] (window sill). The prefix под- [pod-] that has a twin preposition под literally means "under", so подоконник is a thing under the window. Makes sense, right?

But there also are suffixes that change the meaning of the word, but it's still the same object we're talking about, just, for example a very big one or small one - where the dimunitive suffixes come into play. There are quite many of them, and "-к-" is one of them. There are also several longer ones that include the letter "к", like "-очк- " [-ochk-] or "ик" [-yk-]. So these + an "-а" ending (typical for 1st declination that includes feminine and masculine gender nouns) make up a lot of dimunitive forms of nouns. I'll show on several of the words I used in my affectionate words post.

рыба [ryba] (fish) consists of рыб-а (root-ending) рыбка [rybka] (little fish) consists of рыб-к-а (root-suffix-ending)

звезда [zv'ezda] (star) consists of звезд-а (root-ending) звёздочка [zvyozdochka] (little star/starshine) consists of звёзд-очк-а (root-suffix-ending)

кот [kot] (cat, usually male) consists of кот- (root-empty ending) котик [kot'ik] (cat but affectionately, small cat but not same as kitten) consists of кот-ик- (root-suffix-empty ending)

*also a separate note, but suffix "-к-" also has another meaning which is to make words feminitives, so идиот [idiot] is a male idiot and идиотка [idiotka] is a female idiot, not a "small idiot"

I hope this made sense, I tried to kinda make it short and not go too far into word-building, but this should answer your question I think.

Offensive "babuska"

I honestly have no idea why would anyone tell you that, because yes, it's literally "grandma". I suppose women can be offended if you call them this word because of the whole weird "we have to always pretend everyone is younger than they are" thing, I literally witnessed yesterday a girl being extremely upset she was referred to as "woman", not "girl". So yeah, I guess don't call women that unless they're literally someone's grandma or they look more ancient that Lenin's body in the mausoleum, but it's not like a curseword or inappropriate. Man, I really wish we still had the soviet thing where everyone was called "comrade" (I do that unironically in all languages but people do kinda side-eye me in Russia for it because of connotations). But this literally is THE perfect word to call people. No misendering, no wrong age identification, moderately friendly but not too much in case they're not comfortable with it... bring "tovarish'" back!!!

Language cocktails

Actually no, we do not insert Russian words into English/any other language speech normally :) Instead, many people, at least from my circle, because we consume a lot of content in English and sometimes other languages (for studies, work, leisure), we often insert English words into Russian. And often English words get like widely appropriated into the langage, we use "cringe" as a noun and made a verb out of it with Russian verb formation rules. Globalization is no joke!

Of course the most realistic situation where someone would insert a Russian word into English dialogue is if they forgot the word in English (here is a wonderful NikPrice thing from my beloved comrade on the topic). But! I can tell you how I use this "inserts Russian words when speaking English" thing in my writing, mostly with my Russian-Ukrainian OC: it's a deliberate thing she does to often conceal the meaning of her words (when she is being affectionate but pretends she's not), or if she wants to ephasize her Slavic descent, or when she cusses someone out, because let's be real, nothing hits like Russian cursewords. Plus when the situation is emotional/stressful or the character is not fully conscious (drifting off or passing out), speaking non-native languages can be hard.

Also in your specific example it doesn't make much sense to me since идиот and idiot are basically the same word, just with different stress syllables.

I hope this helped! I am very sleep deprived and have a fever and another further math exam in ~12 hours so if there are stupid mistakes or something makes no sense, tell me plz >< And feel free to reach out for anything else!

[starlightsearches]

Heloooos! I've been sober from using tumblr for almost two years but your recent Hux post has me relapsing and its all your doing in the best ways possible. If it gives you any inspo, could you mayhaps write a modern!hux who has reader as their personal guard? My current job has me babysitting a higher up as punishment (the guy makes my life miserable but if was The Armitage Hux I would bark if he asked). Like an enemies to lovers and refusing to just be his friend due to too many feelings ?????

Sleepless Nights

Thanks for the request, my love! Sorry if it's not "enemies" enough for you, I have this insane fear of people being angry with me so I've never been good at the whole enemies to lovers thing. Anyways, let me know if you like what you see :0) Comments, likes, and reblogs are very cool!

Warnings: Kind of slutty, kind of rambly, hux is kind of toxic, language. I think that's it!

You're about three bites into your wilty Caesar salad when the alarm on your phone chimes.

You fiddle with the volume buttons for a second before silencing the noise completely, steeling yourself in preparation for the look you just know Veronica is sending your way.

It's worse than you'd anticipated. You actually flinch a little when you meet her eyes.

She stabs at her own food ferociously, but doesn't take a bite of the pad thai she ordered, bringing the fork level with her gaze. Being on the business end of those tines makes your heart beat a little faster.

"I thought you had twenty minutes for lunch."

You sneak the lid of your Tupperware in between your fingers, slipping it back over the top what's left of your food.

"No . . . I said the meeting would be twenty minutes. I have to be back at my desk before he's done."

Veronica chews at her bottom lip, and you just know that—if you were sitting anywhere that wasn't right outside her boss's office—she'd be cussing you out for, once again, letting Hux take advantage of your truly incredible work ethic.

Lucky for you, if there's one thing your friend likes more than violent outbursts, it's office gossip. The urge overtakes her, and Veronica leans in closer with a passing glance at Phasma's open door, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

"What's his deal lately, anyway?"

Interesting. You thought you were the only one who had noticed a change in Hux's temperament.

He had a reputation, of course—there was a reason he'd had five different executive assistants in the past year—and everybody checked over their shoulders before they bitched about him in the break room.

It hit you hardest—always in the blast radius, so to speak—with your desk just outside his door. You'd spent plenty of time rolling your eyes behind his back, or muttering curses under your breath when you heard his door latch.

But you'd put up with a lot more for a lot less, and you found you were able to take most of your boss's asshole-ish tendencies in stride.

So what if the hours are long? Sitting at your desk late into the night, filing memos and typing up emails between coffee runs was lonely, but your nights before the job were, too. At least now you were getting paid.

The past few weeks had been strange, though. Longer hours, later nights. His presence hovering over your shoulder or watching you through the crack in his door, that nervous energy always focused on you, waiting for you to misstep.

Then there were the calls during the few moments you were outside of the office, filled with reminders for routines you'd never once forgotten. Hux had been fidgety and restless during those morning debriefs and stumbling over his words half the time he passed your desk with some new directive.

"What's his deal ever?" you counter, and she snorts—then when that feels too mean, "he said he hasn't been sleeping."

Veronica purses her lips, smiling around the next word.

"Oh."

You really don't have the time to wait around for an explanation—the elevator up to the top floor already takes three minutes on its own—but, god, the way she says that word stops you like an ice pick to the heart.

"What?"

"Come on," she rolls her eyes, wondering how you could be so obtuse, "everybody knows that when a guy says he can't sleep it's because . . ."

She waits for you to fill in the rest.

"Uhhhhh . . ."

"It means," Veronica sighs, yanking you closer by the arm so nobody will overhear, "that he's been thinking about you. You know, like—" she mimics the beat of some cheesy porn intro, with the bwops and the chicka-waahs.

As if you didn't already get the message.

Your stomach rolls, and not with hunger—although you're wasting valuable time you could have to shovel the rest of your lunch into your mouth on the way back to your desk.

It takes a moment, but you manage a weak laugh, shaking yourself out of your stupor.

Hux didn't think about you like that. He didn't think about you at all unless he was reading his dictations over your shoulder while you were still writing them, just in case he needed to preemptively correct your mistakes.

"Uh, okay, you're insane."

Veronica's brows come together at the challenge—you know she won't stand for that. She scans the immediate area until she narrows in on a victim.

"Hey, Stephen."

The new intern's on his third trip past her desk since you got here, turning so quick to the side you're surprised his head stays attached to his neck.

He's been waiting for this moment all day.

Stephen's cute—dark, fluffy hair and big eyes—eager like a puppy with his clumsy, loping walk . . . and he's got no fucking chance. Veronica would chew him into pieces.

He runs over to her desk, totally clueless to that.

"What's up?"

Veronica smiles, leaning over her desk so the top of her button-down starts to split open. Stephen develops a twitch in his eye trying to keep his gaze level with hers.

"What does it mean when a guy tells a girl that he's having trouble sleeping?"

He relaxes visibly, like someone just asked him the color of the sky.

"Oh, yeah. It means he wants to fuck her."

Stephen gives the answer to you—well aware of his role—then looks to Veronica, waiting for a good boy and a dog treat and a pat on the head.

You feel like you've stepped into the twilight dimension. When the fuck did that become common knowledge?

"Okay, you're both insane, and now I'm running late."

Your steps are harried on the way back to the elevator, begging the engine to move faster or the second-hand on your watch to tick slower. Trying not to think about your boss, thinking about you every night, twisted up in his sheets.

Because, yeah, you had your daydreams. Everybody needs something to distract from the drudgery of all those fucking emails. It never mattered much to you who had you pinned against the shelves in the supply closet of your mind.

Just a little entertainment to wake you up during the afternoon slump—feverish hands and desperation and the crisp smell of copy paper.

But you've always had a thing for a well-cut suit. And Hux had plenty of those.

So what if you were kind of into him and his weird little hard-ass routine? You never believed it would go any further than your daydreams.

But was he going further? And what did that look like?

Your palms are sweating when you get back to your desk, and you can't get the image out of your head—Hux with sweat beading down the taut skin of his neck, with his arms caging you against a wall, with his hips pinning yours against the hard edge of his desk.

You hardly have time to plant your ass in your chair before you hear the tell-tale footsteps around the corner.

Speak of the devil—or, you know, daydream about fucking him.

"Any calls?"

Hux barely glances in your direction—always on the move lately—no room in his schedule to actually stop at your desk and speak to you. You'd guess he's only got time for three directives before he's out of earshot.

Good news. Maybe you could make it out of here before midnight.

"I'm still working through them, sir, but I'll let you know if anything important has come through."

Total lie. You haven't even looked at the phone. And you can't look him in the eye either, feeling flushed and frantic.

Oh god. Do you look flushed and frantic?

Hux doesn't notice either way. Maybe Veronica was wrong and decided to ruin your entire life on a whim.

"Make sure you have a car prepared for the event on Friday. I won't stay longer than twenty minutes."

"Of course, sir. I'll call and let him know."

You had already made that call, but you'd have to update Mitaka, still. That's ten minutes less than the original time you gave him.

He's half-way into his office when he turns back for his last demand, "and I'll need you late, again, tonight."

Fuck. So close. You'd have to reschedule that date with your vibrator.

"Of course, sir. Whatever you need."

I'll need you late, again, tonight?

Could he make it any more fucking obvious?

Hux feels like slamming his head against the wall. He would, maybe, if he wasn't sure you'd hear the rattling window and come to see what his problem was. And that would only present more opportunities for him to make a fool of himself.

He certainly doesn't need any more of those.

It seemed like good advice when it was first given to him—"spending more time together" would be an easy first step, if it didn't also involve time-and-a-half for you. The paychecks he was signing were starting to look as ridiculous as the little infatuation he's been carrying.

Not that it mattered. If money was what you wanted, he'd give it. Anything to endear himself to you.

But the extra time—and the money—aren't helping. You're as distant as ever, maybe moreso, with the fog of sleeplessness and your inevitable irritability at his constant demands.

It's his own damn feelings that get in the way. He can't concentrate, not with the shape of your legs in those pencil skirts. He spends most meetings in wondering how to find out the name of the perfume you wear.

And where he can find a bottle of it for personal use.

Nights, still, are worse.

That's where this all started. Hux hardly ever had dreams, and the few dreams he did have in those short, unconscious hours were never memorable.

Then he woke with the feeling soft skin enveloping his cheeks, tasting you on his lips. And god, those noises you were making for him, your fingers through his hair, begging for him to come closer, to give you more.

It flipped the switch. You went from a passive—albeit attractive—body in a chair to a person. A someone.

A need.

He knew it was wrong. He knew, even with his sweat soaking the sheets and his heavy hand resting on his abdomen that this would ruin so much for him.

The mind can be reasoned with, if the body is hungry enough. And Armitage is so, so hungry for you.

On the nights he manages to resist, he imagines, wonders. Are you alone? Do you think of him? Or are you warming someone else's bed, rolling from their sheets with a heavy sigh every time Armitage's contact pops up on your phone screen?

That worry has him sick to his stomach.

So it's best to keep you close. Keep an eye on you.

Hux looks up from the stack of reports he's been reviewing, shifts in his chair just right until he can see you through the window outside his office without you noticing him.

It puts a god-awful crick in his neck if he sits like this too long. His chiropractor commented on it during his last appointment.

Normally there's not much to see—a Solitare window pulled up when you think he won't notice, the shape of your back curved gracefully. Sometimes your bra visible through the fabric of your thin, white shirts.

Not today, though. You're sitting ram-rod straight, one hand brushing some loose hair behind your ear. All your attention focused on the towering man in front of you, his arms propped against the top edge of your desk and a leering grin on his face.

Ren.

Armitage almost falls with the force of his shock, and then settles along with an empty rage in the pit of his stomach.

Of course Ren would have noticed Hux's preoccupation. And of course he would wield Hux's feelings against him.

There's an animal inside his chest, clawing to get out, giving him half a mind to stomp out there, chase Ren away with some biting remark and a hand on the back of your chair.

But there's a fear that runs deeper. Maybe you'd prefer someone like Ren.

A man who is in every way Hux's opposite. Volatile. Domineering. Powerfully built.

Could Armitage compete?

His inadequacy floods him with a distasteful anger. Armitage will put an end to it immediately. Call you into his office and berate you for socializing during working hours, shame you for inappropriate and obvious mooning over a superior.

He'll make you feel small, ashamed. The way he feels right now.

Too late for all his bravado. Ren steps away from your desk with one glance back, a knowing smirk on his face. Hux almost feels like it's a look meant for him, like Ren can find his gaze through the wall.

Armitage stands from the chair, unsure what his purpose is and knowing he'll defer to anger, as always. Knowing it will make you hate him more than you probably already do.

You don't start immediately when the door opens, and he can't tell from his view of the back of your head what you're thinking.

How many times had he wished he could delve into your mind, pull out gauzy strings of your memories, any thought or emotional tug you'd had in his vicinity? How many times had he hoped you might give him a hint or a sign that you felt anything for him at all?

Armitage coughs, and you jump, turning in your chair until you meet his eyes.

"My office," he tells you, and turns back without waiting to see if you'll follow.

Your steps are quiet in the already quiet office. Everyone else has gone home by now, leaving the two of you alone, and the lights buzz menacingly over the sound of your heels rustling against the carpet. You take your usual seat across from his desk. Armitage stays on his feet, hoping to channel his anxious energy somewhere, liking the way it feels to tower over you.

"Did you need something, sir?"

He knows you're nervous. You don't try to hide it, fidgeting with your fingers, chewing at your lip, avoiding his eyes. Armitage wishes that it was him that made you feel that way, not his position, not his reputation for anger.

"What did Ren want?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then come back together in hesitation, planning an appropriate answer, wondering how he'll react.

"His assistant put in her two weeks notice today," you tell him.

He hums, waiting for more. Your lips flush a lighter shade when you press them more tightly together, and he knows you'll acquiesce.

"He offered me the position, sir."

Armitage sees red, feels his hands curl into fists where they rest behind his back. That arrogant, underhanded, low-life bastard. Hux would . . .

He keeps a cool tone, arches a brow. "And?"

"I told him I appreciated the offer but I'd prefer keep my current position."

And that gives him pause. Has the strange, effervescent hope alight in his chest, but something else snuffs it out.

"Why?"

Hux can't hide the skepticism in his voice, the aching disbelief that you would choose him in any context, but especially this.

Everyone knew working under Armitage was . . . trying. He saw the looks of pity you received from other secretaries as they packed their bags for the night, knew they were taking some solace at your misery while sipping on their happy-hour cocktails. He's well aware that he is demanding, and stubborn, and so exacting.

He's like that in his personal life, too. Which is why he is always alone.

Your brows come together in an obvious but uncharacteristic sign of anger.

"I'm not afraid of hard work, sir."

"I am aware of that, but—"

Why is he so desirous to argue against himself? You are the best assistant he's ever had. Unfortunately, pushing people away is a skill he's mastered over and over and over again.

"Do you want me to leave?" you interrupt him, arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Part of him wants to say yes. To rid himself of this weakness you've blossomed in him, to keep everything under his control and eliminate all other variables.

Your lips press tighter together—Hux would assume he's hurt you, if he thought he had that kind of power.

He's been silent too long. You stand from your chair, brush your hands over your skirt to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Alright, then." You speak without meeting his eyes, heading for the door.

Armitage isn't sure what makes you stop, not until you glance down at your wrist, and he mirrors the movement, sees his own hand circling it.

A perfect fit.

"Sir?"

Your voice is hazy, blurred out by the warmth of your skin and the smell of your perfume and the way your eyes go wide when Armitage makes his approach.

Without saying a word or offering a hint of an apology, Hux is kissing you.

[reveluving]

mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 

warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷

a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 

Two amazing boys. 

Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.

But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.

That was until they met you. 

You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.

The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.

“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.

Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 

“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 

“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.

Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?

“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”

“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”

There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.

He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 

You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 

“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”

You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”

You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 

Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 

Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.

Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  

Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 

Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.

And then, high school ended. 

Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 

Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 

Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 

They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.

He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 

But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 

She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 

And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.

Shauna.

Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 

But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.

So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.

But her boy was insistent. 

Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 

And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 

But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 

It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 

Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.

If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 

Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.

Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.

And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 

Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?

And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.

But he didn’t have to wait for long.

The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.

In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.

There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.

And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.

Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.

But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.

On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.

Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 

Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.

Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.

And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[adventuringblind]

Nerospicy has never been so cute

Oscar Piastri x Nerodivergent!reader

Genre: fluff... angst if you squint.

Request: nope but they are open! Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, George, Daniel and Pierre are on the list. Also open for poly fics if anyone is interested.

Summary: just cute fluff between Oscar and his autistic coded partner

Warnings: idk people who can't mind their own business IG

Notes: This is self-indulgent, and I do not care. I just wanna feel supported, okay? T_T

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feeling hurt if you ignor this but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

You weren't sure if you'd ever fit in with people. Something about you always felt different from others.

Maybe it was that you didn't understand their antics. Their jokes weren't funny to you, or you didn't understand them. They seemed you as sensitive, but you're really just incredibly empathic.

You were interested in things that they weren't. You hated certain foods, textures, and feeling in general.

Then somtimes it all became too much. Alone in a dark room with headphones in. Attempting to soothe yourself from the overwhelming feelings running through your mind and body.

Your friends wanted to go out of a Friday night. Previously, you were feeling alright and decided to go with. Instantly regretting your decision as soon as you walked into the door of the club.

It was here that you met Oscar.

He didn't really want to be here. He'd given into the pleas of his friends who didn't want to go without him. He liked people and going out to have fun, but he wasn't in the mood right now.

He noticed you sitting at the bar nursing a drink. You looked like you wouldn't bother him, and the bar was already crowded, so he sat down on the stool next to yours.

You briefly looked over at him. Finding your drink to be more entertaining than the male next to you.

You were getting more overwhelmed by the second. The discreetly hidden earbuds only help so much. The vibration of the bass and the lights combined made you want to puke. You wanted to get out of there, but your body was ever so slowly shutting down.

Oscar noticed how your body was shrinking into itself. He didn't want to stare, but it was obvious you were in distress.

"Are you alright?" Asked the Australian.

You didn't look up at him, and words became too difficult, so you settled for shaking your head no.

Oscar thought about it for a minute. "Do you want to get out of here? I'm not in the mood to party, and you don't seem like you are either." He grimaced at how awkward he felt like he sounded. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or something." He laughed but it was more at himself then anything.

Eager to leave, regardless of who the man was, you stood up and made your way towards the door. You didn't have a tab, just water in your glass to make you feel like you belonged.

Once outside the door, you breathe a sigh of relief. Less people, less vibration, and less light.

You wanted to cry, though. Your body still feeling everything.

"Do you need anything? A ride home even? I probably seem like suck a creep right now." Oscar rubs his temples.

For the first time, you fully examine the male. Shocked to see kind features and gentle eyes. He was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans.

"Thank you." You managed. Not wanting him to feel like a weirdo any longer.

He paused and looked up at you. Wanting to find your eyes but noticing your eyes did not want to find his. "I'm Oscar, by the way." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

Which you did hesitantly. "I'm Y/N."

~

You had explained to Oscar that you didn't live close to here. Over an hour away at best. You'd been exploring the town with friends earlier in the day when they decided to end the night at the club.

He offered you a stay at his apartment for the night and then he could take you home in the morning.

"Actually, can I take you on a date first?" He'd found you intriguing and beautiful, and he didn't want this to be for one night.

You were nervous, to say the least, but when he offered to take you anywhere you wanted to go, the deal seemed appealing. Furthermore, there was a music store you wanted to look at that your friends had passed by. So when he offered, you pointed him in the direction.

"Can I ask you something?" His eyes never left the rode, and you were grateful for it. It helped the conversation flow easier for you.

"Sure." You shrugged.

"Why are you wearing earbuds?"

Oh. You dreaded this. Talking about the way your body and mind work had yet to end well.

Your hesitancy did not do unnoticed, so Oscar quickly followed up with "you don't have to answer if it's uncomfortable."

"Well, it's just that- loud noise makes me overwhelmed, and things like headphones help drown it out." You fumbled.

"Oh I use those at work too sometimes cause it can get loud."

He seemed so natural saying it. His calm demeanor helping you to read him a bit better.

He then proceeded to tell you about his job and ask questions about you. He was very clear when he spoke. Eventually helping you to wind down.

This guy you just met was taking you on a date. Was it a good idea to out yourself? Probably not, but if you didn't care for people opinions much. "I'm autistic."

"I was wondering that but didn't want to ask. I had a friend in school that was, and in some ways, you seem similar to him." He hit his head on the steering wheel. "I'm not trying to stereotype. I'm sorry that probably sounded rude."

You laughed at him. His response was one of the best you'd been given. "It's alright, it's actually kind of cool that you picked up on it."

When you arrived it the music store it was ten minutes to close. The records lined the walls, and boxes of CDs were packed to the brim. Not many people use them nowadays, but it felt comfortable in the little store.

You and Oscar browsed the music and talked about the different kinds of music you like. It felt natural. Even when you knew you were info-dumping, he just listened intently and asked questions about your interest.

Soon enough, the shopkeeper asked you both to leave. You waved a thank you and slid back into Oscar's car.

"Thank you for indulging me. I really enjoyed this." You were shocked to hear that come from him. Mainly because you felt like you talked his ear off.

The drive to his apartment was quiet, but not the awkward kind.

He opened the door for you when you arrived. His apartment was comfortable. It's not super empty or overly decorated. It's just comfortable.

"Right, so you can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and take the room, and I'll take the couch." He didn't even give you a chance to protest as he sped off to gether the essentials.

You two didn't do much sleeping that night. Wasting away the time. The clock moving two fast for your liking. You two spent hours conversing and laughing with each other.

Somewhere along the line, Oscar passed out on the couch, and you had made your way to his room like he said to.

You two exchanged numbers when it was finally time for you to leave his car. He promised to stay in contact with you.

A promise he followed through on. It didn't take long til you were following him around to races.

You were mostly watched from the quiet places in the McLaren paddock. Sometimes, it even curled up in Oscar's driver room. He didn't mind, though, making it a small game you played between the two of you.

You and Lando got along nicely as well. Oscar only getting frustrated when it comes to both of you and your eating habits.

You were manageable, but Lando was just ridiculous in his eyes.

You didn't actively say your autistic but definitely explained why you are the way you are. Eventually, people came to their own conclusions. The gossip pages included.

You didn't really understand the criticism at first. People had always misjudged and misunderstood. But when they started nitpicking your every move, it became annoying.

The names didn't bother you. It was them saying Oscar deserved someone who wasn't as weird.

It followed you everywhere. These labels that the media had given you.

You were happy with Oscar. He treated you so well, and you were doing your best to support him. You two created your own small routines that you enjoyed.

You couldn't even walk through the paddock without journalists trying to question you. The physical souch of their bodies and shouting so they could be heard sending your body into overdrive. You liked the environment of racing, but this was over your limit.

You were so glad you texted Oscar you had arrived. Him responding that he was already on his way to you.

He noticed the journalists first, then you at the center of attention. Your hands in your hair and your breathing rapid. You looked like you might scream.

His legs moved faster than his mind as he put himself in between you and anyone else. Very gently, placing a hand on your shoulder to try and guide you away.

You did end up screaming. Your body needing to release all the pent-up emotions you'd been wanting to release earlier. Thankfully, it was somewhere private and muffled by Oscar's jacket.

You didn't want the so close like that. They were too much. They questions they asked were incredibly invasive. Some even going as far as to ask about intimate things.

You managed to explain to Oscar what happened. His listening intently, watching you play with his fingers in the pattern your head had come up with.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make things hard for you."

Oscar smiled and simply shook his head. "You aren't making things difficult, and on the contrary, you and your nerodivergent brain have never looked so cute."

"I just got done screaming and trying to self-soothe."

"It doesn't matter. You still look absolutely adorable." He kissed the top of your head, hoping to convey what he was feeling without words.

Am hour later, Oscar had posted to his socials about you. A letter to anyone who wants to form an opinion.

"Leave my girlfriend be. Neither of us likes having our personal lives invaded. You like to assume things but don't have all the facts. I love her very much, and that should be all that matters."

As you read it and looked at Oscar, who was giving you a goofy smile for being proud of what he'd just done. You realized just how much he loved you. Despite your labels, he saw past them and loved you for you.

[caughtkuru]

@thatahjuma i’ve noticed a lot of people asking about 7 & 8 canonically being in a throuple with nasha in the novel, so i’m making a separate post talking about it for y’all so i don’t clog up the comment section of the original post i had mentioned them on because i have a LOT to say

[spoilers for the novel under cut of course]

mickey 7 spans over a bit of a longer timeframe than it’s movie counterpart which allows for 7 and 8’s dynamic to grow more than 17 and 18’s. similarly to the movie they start out grating on each other’s nerves, though 8 is a little less violent than 18. as they start learning to tolerate each other there’s a few lines that can be interpreted as flirting here and there, especially if you’re a little freak like i am, but it’s really when nasha first finds out about the two of them that it becomes canon. similarly to the movie, 7 walks in on 8 and nasha, though this time it happens much later in the story. the scene is only a fade to black so we don’t know exactly what happened, but we do get one of my favorite quotes:

though it’s pretty vague at first it becomes more and more apparent as the novel goes on that it’s not just nasha dating the two of them, but that they are all in love, especially since 7 and 8 experience worse treatment than other cases of multiples due to their romantic and sexual relationship.

though it’s a bit disappointing that their relationship couldn’t be carried over to mickey 17 i feel like the film did good with what time they were given, it would’ve felt rushed if they had given 17 and 18 the same connection despite 18 having only been alive for a day. i think they still made it evident that there could’ve been something more if they only had more time, but sadly their story is always doomed to be cut off short by the circumstances of their existence.

also, for those of you disappointed by the fact that the sex scene is only a fade to black, i would recommend checking out this fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56525869?view_adult=true

anyways mickey and nasha my favorite canon throuple of all time everyone go read mickey 7

[elbiotipo]

Question: he would the hair in cat ears work for catgirls? do they get the same hair covering the ears as the rest of the head or would it be shorter for the ears only? if a catgirl has long curly hair, is the hair covering the ears also long and curly?

I would have to research that, but given I have a research subject next to me (my cat) cats do seem to have shorter hair in their ears by default, which makes sense because ears are well, ears, and they need to be mobile and clear of obstructions.

You can see here that this cat (not mine, he went away as I was writing this) has medium-length fur but the hairs covering the ears are rather short. It makes sense it would be the same for catgirls.

Now, does this mean that cat-people hair would be the same as their fur? Do notice that cat fur has a very different length and texture from human hair in that human hair doesn't have that layered thing that makes most mammal fur, individual hairs are also much longer. Furthermore, humans are WEIRD, just plain WEIRD in our hair distribution. No other mammals are like us, there are certainly hairless mammals, for sure, but the human distribution of hair is very much unlike other primates, with our hairy heads, stomach/pubic areas, beard and armpits, while those are usually bald in other primates. There is still considerable debate on the evolution of hairlesness in humans, from endothermic regulation (better sweating) to sexual selection (which might explain the persistance of, well, hair and body hair instead of complete hairlessness). What's interesting is that genes for a full fur (hair, I guess) coat in humans are still there, just disabled into vellus hairs which are a lot less prominent. If you want more on the subject, I warn you, it's a deep dive, but you can start in Wikipedia.

BACK TO CATS THOUGH, something that people often forget is that whiskers are indeed another kind of fur, but not only that, they are active sensory organs that take a big part of brains in many mammals. One we also lack. Humans are strange. But while cats can live without whiskers, it's still something very important to them. So I think that is something we forget about felines and feline characters.

It would also be a real interesting thing if cat-people had different hair, as in the thing in top of our heads (which seems to have evolved to protect our stupid big brains from the sun) similar to cat fur. Perhaps a catgirl would look pretty much human, but from touching the hair, seeing her eyes, perhaps even whiskers, you would see different stuff (assuming a fantasy or such setting). Given our genetics, it's not exactly implausible to have people whose fur just sticks to their hair and tail. It's just, well, I really need to make a post on this sort of stuff one day.

For a VERY fun deep dive into cat coat and eye genetics, I found this site full of deep explanations and charts about cat genetics. Including HYPOTHETICAL cat coats:

Honestly, don't miss it if you're doing cat-like characters. This is way more fun that just sticking ears and a tail and be done with it. Put the cat in catgirls again, that's what I say.

[veryinjuredperson]

i'm not sure how many people will actually see this post, but anyone who does, hi! i'm vip, and i have some pressing questions on my ol' mind!

so, i'm... severly mental ill, to say the least of it, diagnosed with depression, adhd, anxiety, bpd, professional suspicions of autism and ptsd, and personal suspicions of some sort of dissociative disorder.

to make this easier, im going to breakdown what's been happening...

so, i can't say i've ever noticed being GONE from the present per say, but it's more like... i'm sort of present at all times, but have different personalities or voices who crop up and direct me. my tones change, sometimes my accent changes, my mood changes, the words i use change, certain skill sets might change, thought processes change, etc.

i've struggled with identity for a long time, i just don't like to share that fact usually, particularly because it scares the shit out of me and also due to the fact that i am constantly telling myself that i must be an attention seeker and a faker and a liar, even though i have only spoken about my suspicions of potentially being a system with a single trusted person.

some voices have names, there are several who are at least based on fictional characters, and others who aren't... sometimes i can communicate more clearly between separate voices, and other times it feels like one train of thought that's jumping back and forth for a single mental conversation, like i say something and then respond to myself but it still doesn't feel like just me? i have had people point out that i'm acting different before, but i have a consistent stream of consciousness, so i feel like that's kind of... idk... i feel like that's not how systems work, is it? bc it's less like individual people who take the reigns and more like i am a sort of central core, and then there are little voices or influences, some stronger or bolder than others, who sort of... blend in with me? and influence what i'm doing... so like... i know what's going on, i feel in control, but i don't feel... normal?

if anyone has any way they can help me decipher some of this, please let me know. for now, i've taken to using plural kit and simply plural to log these personality shifts.

i do intend to speak to a psychiatrist and/or at least a therapist about this, but i haven't been able to get that far quite yet. any help in the meantime would be greatly appreciated.

( i have trauma, but a lot of my childhood from at least anything prior to 6th grade is rather blurry, there's memories here and there, some clearer than others, some just gone, i know i've had some pretty bad medical trauma all prior to the age of three, but also some beyond that, i know my parents have always fought a lot, i know that i never stayed in one school for longer than a single grade year, i know i had very inconsistent friendships, i know i played pretend or even "played games with myself" including "hide and seek" which was... generally just sad... but yeah, i do have trauma, i js dont know if it's enough to cause what happened? oh! i also started school a year earlier than most, so i turned 10 part way into 5th grade, i know a lot of sources say that this stuff had to happen prior to... 9? 7? it's unclear... but... just letting that be known )

[outismm]

Hi- I just wanted to thank you for your Huck posts, it's like the only positive thing in his tag and it made me happy 😭 He's so good and deserves more appreciation! Have you seen season 2 yet? I would LOVE to hear your thoughts!

EEEEEEE HELLLOOOOO!!!!! This ask made me so incredibly happy. There will never be a time when I am not ready to Scream from the rooftops about Huck. Okie this is all just going to be rambling. Bouncing off the walls, giggling, kicking my feet, etc. Spoilers for acts 1 + 2, I'll probably rb this with more thoughts after act 3.

Being bisexual is so embarrassing bc while other people are doing in-depth analysis of the beauty that is this show, and I'm over here spinning a goober around that has,,, MAYBE 10 mins of screen-time, or less.

I DON'T EVEN CARE THOUGH MY HUSBAND IS BACK!!! WE'RE SO BACK!!!!!!!

Truly the instant I clocked his glasses I started squealing and pacing my room MNASDMAN there is no hope for me.

As expected, babygirl is not doing well! The moldy food was a good touch. The terrors are terroring.

Also not Huck related - but loved the Moses vibes Victor was bringing out this scene? Lots of Moses imagery w/ him, just a great move on the writers + animators part, considering his backstory.

It's really important to me that he's terrible at this MANSDMAN

Not only bc it's really Woughe (tm), but just,,, I do love that Huck is a coward? He's a coward in a very human way. 99% of what he does is purely out of desperation.

Just a great character trait tbh!

Also the fact that he's so hesitant gives me the vibes that he's probably never/rarely done this? Like :

This is not the stance of a man who mugs people on the regular MANDSMAN he looks so profoundly out of his depth. The second Victor starts walking towards him instead of trying to run, he starts freakin' the fuck out.

Either he's not used to doing this, or he's used to doing this to ppl who don't/won't/can't fight back. Ack.

^^ He also makes a little sob here when he's holding up the knife. Very important to me.

UHHNGHNOUGHH!!!!

They fixed his hairline and took away his stutter and de-aged him - which are all tragic for me specifically, BUT that's forgiven bc YIPPEEEEEEEE he no longer looks like he's on the verge of death MNADMANSDMN.

I'll forgive Hextech Jesus for hitting him with the Twink Beam. for now.

Victor DID however take away his beautiful brown eyes, and that cannot be absolved.

LOVE how the marks on his face line-up w/ where Victor touched him. Magnificent. Amazing. Kissing the artists with tongue.

Also can't believe I never noticed this before, but the chip in his tooth? Wagh <3

I do appreciate them getting a bit of not-quite-closure? Honestly just nice to see Vi and Huck interacting again after the whole Silco fiasco.

Also - have we ever seen Huck stand upright??? I think?? this might genuinely be the first time we see him at full height???

He's really not as short as he seems!! He's just always curled into himself like a pangolin. Love that deeply.

Also appreciate him getting a gun pointed at him again, always a good time. I love seeing him scared and stressed out <3 MNASDMNAD

He still reacts the same, too! Shoulders all tense, a lil leaned back, lips pursed. Idk I just like how the animators keep the Vibes of characters. All those little traits.

Hm.

I don't approve of him being in a cult but I DO approve of him being in a dress. So once again it balances out.

To whatever artist(s) on the team decided that outfit for him, I'm transferring my savings to your bank account.

No comment.

Actually yes comment - seeing him not back down from a threat is such a contrast to how he usually acts. Woughe. Cult Commune Induced Character Development (mixture of yays and boos)

It's interesting to see how while Victor is able to cure ailments, it also pulls away aspects of the individual's personality. Like that's Huck but that isn't Huck, y'know? We see it way more obviously w/ Salo in ep 4, which is real cool

AND AGAIN, NOTHIN' GOOD LASTS FOR LONG.

Can't wait to see the consequences of this on his physical and mental health <3 need to see him going through it tbh. He will find peace eventually.

Not yet though. get up you gangly fuck there's still more terrors to experience AKJDSAKDJ

I feel like he still has quite a lot of Character Arc To Character Arc so I doubt he's just gonna be like. A Corpse And/Or Corpse-Adjacent. Next act. t'would be very disappointing AMSDNAMDN.

OUGHEEEEE. OKAY. once again anyone who read through all this gets a cookie and a little flower as a hat. runs away.

[schizosamwincester]

Schizophrenia-coding in Supernatural: John Winchester

So, I'm starting an occasional series of posts. I don't want to, but I feel like I have to because Good Lord a lot of story elements in this show parallel schizophrenia. To be clear: despite my username, I am not arguing that any characters are actually schizophrenic. I do not think that is canonically true. I certainly have headcanons, but the text doesn't back them up. However, their experiences are undeniably similar to schizophrenics. I don't know how much of it is deliberate, but some of it undoubtedly is (see 2.10, "Hunted").

Some background: schizophrenia is generally understood to develop in 3 phases: the prodromal, the active, and the recovery. The most important one for most of these parallels is the prodromal. This is where the symptoms start to appear and are fairly mild, before getting more intense and building to a full psychotic break.

Now what exactly does the prodromal phase look like? Well. I have an example.

He starts out seemingly neurotypical. Maybe he's thinking about supernatural explanations, but if he is, it's all in how head. Slowly, things ramp up. He focuses on it more and more, and he starts sharing his ideas with other people. Eventually, it moves from thoughts and speech to actively influencing his behavior. He's doing new and different things because of these new beliefs. That said, he isn't in a full state of psychosis yet. He's holding down his job at the garage. He's still taking care of his kids. I'd assume he's keeping up personal hygiene. Still, even though he's still functioning, his symptoms are becoming obvious.

The actual point when he goes from the prodromal phase to the active phase, I'd say would be when he finally leaves Laurence and takes his kids on the road. That's when he's no longer focused on reality at all. He's no longer functioning within society. He isn't working anymore. He isn't really taking care of his kids (Dean is doing that). He doesn't maintain relationships with anyone from his previous life.

Schizophrenia is not always triggered by trauma, but it absolutely can be. My own psychotic break was arguably triggered by trauma (or at least, extreme stress). Plus, John was 24. The most common age of onset for schizophrenia is late teens to early twenties (although really, anywhere from 13-30 is normal). A young father having a psychotic break after his wife dies in a house fire is absolutely a thing that would happen, especially if John had a genetic predisposition to psychotic disorders.

Is it a perfect match up? No, but really only because we don't have enough detail. We don't know how long the slow build-up lasted (the prodrome generally lasts less than 2 years), and we don't actually know what the transition between John merely investigating things and him becoming a full-blown hunter looked like. Still, it fits the pattern well enough that I immediately noticed.

Now, this wasn't an intentional decision by the writers, but I don't think it's coincidental, either. The idea of slowly going "crazy" is common cultural knowledge. Sure, schizophrenia isn't the most common thing, but it's common enough that everyone runs into it sooner or later. Maybe it isn't anyone in your family or who you know directly, but there's always a friend of a friend, or someone's kid, or just someone you've heard about in your town. Everyone's heard a story of someone starting to say weird things and eventually ending up completely psychotic. The writers may not have known the terms prodromal phase and active phase, but they were certainly trying to show that to outsiders, John looked "crazy," and so they built upon the common cultural idea of what "going crazy" looks like.

This repeats throughout the series, especially with the special children. Over and over, the writers bring up the idea of people involved with the supernatural looking "crazy" to outsiders. It was inevitable that they'd parallel schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders, because psychosis is generally what people mean when they say "crazy."

[laurensturniolo]

Class reunion - sub!Chris Sturniolo X Y/n (fem)

‼️ SMUT ‼️

my first post !!

leave recommendations in the comments or send me things anonymously!

NOT READ OVER!

~~~

Y/N POV:

I’ve always liked Chris. Always, but especially since one day in 6th grade. 

“Give me that back!!” he yelled at me.

“No, beg for it!” I start giggling at him.

Something changes in his eyes, almost like he just seemed in my control.

“Please. I’m sorry. Just please”. 

My expression drops. He sounded so weak, like he needed something from me. He was quite literally begging. I immediately gave it back to him and he smirked at me, almost an evil smirk. 

I still think about that day often. Especially when he has a certain look on his face. The look just screams pure submissiveness. His puppy eyes, his red pouty lips… oh my god. He makes me feel weak. I think it would be wrong to say I’m obsessed with him but I'm definitely obsessed with him. He’s just perfect and I just can’t deal with it.

~ ~ ~

It’s our 4 year class reunion. It’s only been 4 years but when I show up, I feel like I don’t remember some people. I’m 21 now, and I guess everyone else is my age or older too. I came in a tight silky black dress and some brand new tennis shoes, nothing fancy. I do some fancier makeup though, just so I look nice for people. Though I never cared how I looked during high school. 

“Hey y/n!” A familiar voice calls out from behind me. I turn around and it’s my high school friend, Tessa.

“Oh my god, hey Tess! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Ugh, I know! You look amazing, how’ve you been?” she asks, smiling at me.

“So do you! I’ve been good, everything’s going good.”

We talk for 10 minutes and then I go around to look at food and decorations. I run into a few familiar faces and give a short conversation. I decide to get some fruit punch just to carry around and drink while I’m here. I finish filling up my class when I turn around and bump into someone, spilling some of my drink on them.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry”.

I look up at this person's face and realize it’s Chris. Chris Sturniolo. My school crush. I slightly blush at him due to embarrassment but also the fact that I’m right in front of him. He seems slightly pissed but he calms down.

“You’re fine, I know it was an accident. You’re y/n, right?” he says in a fun tone.

“Yea, and you’re Chris, right?” I already know who he is.

“Yup, surprised you didn’t call me Matt”. He jokes. God, I missed him.

“Couldn’t mistake you for Matt, trust me”.

He smirks and tilts his head slightly. “Oh really? Why not?” I suddenly freeze. I can’t just tell him I had and still have a crush on him, that’s so awkward. I realize I’m blushing so I disguise it with me being “nervous”. “Oh uh, you were just in a lot of my classes, especially in senior year.”

“Ohhh, right right. So, how’ve you been? You’ve changed… a lot”

I look a little confused. Have I really? I mean I was still going through puberty until senior year. My boobs got a little bigger and my face got skinnier along with the rest of my body and just a minor color difference to my hair. But god, Chris is realizing this? Does this mean he noticed me in high school too? 

“Really? Thanks I guess”

“Of course… you look good” He says ‘good’ almost seductively. I want to ignore it but I just can’t. 

“Thank you… you do too” I smile sweetly.

We talk for a little while longer and I play everything off well, almost no hints I like him. I’m still talking to him when I look down just to avoid eye contact.

He’s hard.

My eyes widen at the sight. I avoid eye contact at all costs to make sure he doesn’t know I know.

“Hey. Whatcha lookin at?”

Shit, he knows. 

“O-oh nothing. Sorry” I laugh it off to avoid embarrassment. He walks closer to me. The 3 feet in front of me turns into a foot or less.

“I know what you’re looking at, sweetheart.” He whispers seductively. “I’m not fooling you, you saw what you saw. Neither of us can hide it now”.

I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m silent for a few seconds when his hand reaches up to bring my chin to look at him.

“I’m talking to you.”

“I-I.. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry sweetheart. Wanna help me with this?” He tilts his head down to look at his erection. I know what I want to say. But do I say it? I just nod dumbly. He chuckles and says, “Let’s go find a room then, pretty girl.”

We walk upstairs and Chris waves at a few people on the way. God I forgot he’s popular. We finally find a bedroom and Chris opens the door. The second we’re inside, He pushes me against the door and kisses me roughly. He pushes me back a little more so he can lock the door while still in the kiss. His tongue slides on my bottom lip, asking for an entrance to which I immediately obey. I whimper into the kiss only making him get rougher with me. His hands make their way up to my lower hips and he grabs them, making me whimper again. I can feel him smiling.

He pulls away suddenly. I look at him and his eyes are blown out, almost no blue is seen anymore. He looks needy, so needy. 

“Awww you look desperate”. I say in a joking tone.

“Please” is all he can blurt out. I smile and kiss him, I’m taking all control. I kiss him rougher and he starts whimpering. God, it’s so attractive. After a minute, I pull away from the kiss.

“How about we lay on the bed? That okay baby?”

He blushes and his eyes get wider at the nickname. He nods eagerly. I grab his hand and he sits on the edge of the bed. I sit on his thighs to straddle him. I look down to look at his eyes and he looks desperate. I grab his face and kiss him again but this time, I tilt my head a little to really get into the kiss and I can tell he likes this way more. My hand makes its way down his neck, to his chest, then right down to his bulge in his pants. I lightly palm over it and he inhales sharply at the touch. I start palming a little harder and little whines and moans come out of his mouth. 

“Tell me what you want baby,” I tell him, looking in his eyes.

Something in his eyes changes in that moment.

“P-please suck me off. Please y/n.” He says in a whiny voice. I smirk and get on my knees in front of him. I motion for him to take his pants off and he immediately obeys. He takes his boxers off and he’s rock hard. I look at him to make sure he’s fully okay with this and he nods, looking down at me. Finally, I lightly stroke his dick with my middle finger and he squirms slightly. 

I hold his thigh down with my open hand, “Stop squirming or i’ll stop.” He nods and immediately replies, “I-i’m sorry.” I stroke harder and a little faster with just my middle finger still and everything in his body is trying to stop him from squirming. I use my whole hand now and he moans quietly.

“Be loud, baby. It’s okay” I reassure him.

I start stroking him faster and he moans louder. “Y/n, pleaseeee.. o-oh please”

I look at him right in the eyes. “What Chris? What do you want?” He looks down right at my eyes and says, “suck me off.. please y/n/n” 

Everything in me changes after he says my nickname while he’s begging for me. I immediately open my mouth and go for it. I start with the tip and he gasps. He’s trying so hard not to move at all and it makes me smile slightly. Then, I finally lower my mouth and bob my head up and down at a decent pace. He’s a whimpering mess at this point. He keeps saying shit like,

“Pleaseeeee… oh my god”

“So good baby, so good for me”

“Holyyyyy…”

I start bobbing my head faster and I suck a little harder as he’s moaning louder by the second. 

“Y/n god… HOLY-“ I cover his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, Chris. Do you want everyone at our goddamn class reunion to hear you moaning for me?” He shakes his head aggressively. “Yea, I didn’t think so.”

I move faster and he’s a mess. His eyes are watering, he’s sweating, whimpering non stop.

I keep doing this until finally I let go. He whines at the loss of contact, I finally take off my dress and reveal that I’m not wearing a bra. His eyes almost immediately look at my tits and he’s in awe. I stand up to take off my black lace panties and he whimpers at the sight.

“God please y/n.. I need you, all of you. You’re so fucking gorgeous” I blush.

“Thank you chris..” I straddle his thighs, right below his dick. He looks directly in my eyes with desire and I lift myself up, right above his dick. 

“How badly do you want this, Chris? Tell me baby.”

“So… so fucking bad y/n. God, please baby. Please ride my cock…” His little whiny voice is so sweet, I can’t say no.

I finally lower myself on his cock and he throws his head back. “You're such a good boy… right? My good boy?” Doe eyes. He gives me straight doe eyes. “Y-yes y/n. I’m your good boy, only yours”.

I finally bottom out and kiss him while I wait  a minute to get used to this feeling. Once I finally get used to it, I start bouncing slowly. 

“H-holy shit.” He exhales. I whimper slightly at the good feeling.

I start bouncing faster and harder and Chris is a fucking mess, this guy doesn’t shut up. He’s whining or whimpering every second, begging me to keep going. “Please, baby. Don’t stop now, please…” “I’m not gonna stop Chris. Calm down, sweetheart…”

I bounce harder and kiss his collarbones while doing so. His legs start shaking and I know what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Y/n… f-fuck I’m.. I’m so close…”

“Yea? Be a good boy and hold it for a little while longer”. I don’t want to sound rude, I just really want us to enjoy our orgasm together. “P-please… please let me cum”

“Almost baby.. it’s okay, almost.”

Tears fall from his eyes as he grabs my hips hard. “P-please!! God y/n/n. PLEASE” His legs shake, indicating he’s so close. “Y/N I NEED TO CU-“ He cuts himself off with a moan while releasing inside of me. I follow with my orgasm a few seconds later, moaning his name quietly.

I slow my actions down, letting him finish. “F-fuck y/n. I’m so sorry… I-I couldn’t hold it…”

I grab his jaw to force him to look at him. “It’s okay baby. I know… I know it was hard.” I grab his face and kiss him sweetly, reassuring him. “You did sooo good for me, Chris. So fucking good” He blushes at my compliment.

“Let’s get us cleaned up” I say, walking to the bathroom to get a wet towel. I cleaned us up for 5 minutes and we lay in bed for a few minutes. We both get our clothes back on and walk out. Yes, my dream with my goddamn crush came true. When we got out, no one looked like they knew what happened. 

Until…

“You dirty little whores.” Nick looks at us both, disgusted.

[roaringup]

MORE PISS TALK!!! (mostly for my own recollection)

I’m not going to put this under a readmore anymore even though it is long; I don’t think anyone is reading whose squeamishness about potential piss talk somehow overrides the curiosity implied in the choice to subscribe to a mundane personal journal.

Yesterday was the three-week follow-up. The surgeon removed the drain that had been difficult to get out before because of the stitches. The SP cath stays in, and I have to see her again on the 30th. I had detached the bag from the catheter and plugged it two days before that, to practice having my bladder fill and peeing the usual way, as instructed—and I can, but it seems I can’t empty all the way when I try.

This issue is not noticeable on my end—when my body stops, I experience myself as no longer needing to go. The way it was determined was much more elaborate and empirical. The surgeon used the cath to put saline into my bladder so she’d know precisely how full it was, which didn’t hurt but felt peculiar (you never naturally experience the volume changing that fast), and asked me to tell her to stop when I felt a need to go. I then had to use their uroflowmeter: a funnel/bucket combo that creates an electronic profile of your piss. I did not pass that test!

(The one thing I did like about this device was that the software had a big button labeled “Begin Micturation.”)

So now I have homework: when I go at home, I’m to empty as much as I can when I feel I need to, and then remove the cath plug and drain the remainder into a plastic jug with measurements on it, and record the volume I wasn’t able to pass on my own.

This is not a surgical issue, but a matter of the muscles not being relaxed enough, she told me. One can develop issues later on from scar tissue forming in the urethra, but it is too soon for that; also, the flow rate itself is normal, which it would not be with that kind of blockage.

I would really like this to resolve on its own with time and practice, and perhaps it is just muscle weirdness post-surgery, but I do wonder if I had this issue before to some degree and will need pelvic PT to get it fully under control. :| Like many trans people, I’ve had times when I deliberately avoided public bathrooms, and like many autistic people, apparently, I do not have great bladder proprioception (took what she appeared to find a surprising amount of saline). While this has never caused me noticeable trouble, it is more relevant now that I’ve been rearranged and am having to pass these tests.

As postsurgical difficulties go, the whole thing is a lot less distressing than basically anything else would be (a fistula, wound separation, a wound infection or UTI, retraction of my dick), but I am still grumpy.