#also can use operator which is my crutch

[alteredsilicone]

getting a dogwater loadout is probably frustrating in Deep Archimedea (let's be honest, some weapons are just trash), but I also know that if everyone was allowed to stomp the gamemode with their Torid incarnons then people would complain how it's "too easy"; i mean there ARE people who are saying DA isn't that hard and anyone who is crying is exposing themselves as not being ready for endgame (i'm one of them, i actually don't know the nitty gritty of warframe builds and mechanics and just let other people build for me (poses))

though seeing an opinion how this is veering into p2w because weapon slots cost platinum is... a take? i guess if you're really pedantic you could argue that, but by that logic WF is already p2w because you buy forma, exilus adapters, rush builds and use affinity boosters to build your weapons faster (scratches head); i know there are definitely people who despise WF because of this, hardcore micotransaction haters

[dirtyvulture]

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest. 

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months. 

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore. 

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself. 

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you. 

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech. 

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.  

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch. 

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given. 

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice. 

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures. 

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom. 

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over. 

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.   

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay. 

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.    

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper. 

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle. 

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock. 

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all. 

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too. 

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck. 

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

I wrote a Part 5, which you can read here.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[celaenaeiln]

Just how true do you think the sentiment of “bruce was still a child who didnt get to grow up/move on until he met dick”?

Very true! Actually-Alfred straight up says it-true!

This scene is when Dick was accepted by Batman to become robin.

I was actually going to use this for another Dick and Alfred post but let me just drop it here that Dick cares about Alfred so much!!

Like this boy is the sweetest, most caring person ever. He asks the butler if it's okay for him to become robin-who does that?! Who would think of doing that?! He's the most considerate, softest baby ever! The tiny, nervous, shy smile on his face in the second panel <33333

Here's the answer: "And while he most certainly became a man...I don't think he ever became an adult."

But Alfred says it twice!

"But Alfred always used to say Bruce would have self-destructed if he hadn't met me and learned some responsibility."

My other post about Bruce and Dick has a lot of images that talk about this idea too

That's why I love Bruce and Dick's relationship so much. They are so codependent on each other. While Bruce saved Dick (not from being angry. He wasn't an angry robin, istg.), Bruce also would have died without Dick.

Before Bruce met Dick, he was on a one way track to his own ending. He was reckless, didn't take precautions, and was on the verge of being consumed by the darkness of which he was fighting.

At this time, a boy came along that shined light down upon him (literally because of the circus stage lights lol) and he was taken by him instantly.

With a new partner-a child-by his side Bruce was forced to take precautions, learn how to operate as a human being, and was just happy to have someone who bright and cheerful. He used Dick as an emotional crutch from losing his mind.

"Still, the addition of Dick Grayson into the Master's crusade has made a difference in him."

"I do believe I saw him smile. There have even been occasions in the pantry when I could just discern the muffled sounds of laughter echoing up from the dreadful cavern beneath the manor."

There are so many occasions where Alfred talks about how extraordinarily important Dick is to Bruce.

Dick raised Bruce.

To borrow a lyric line that explains this:

"Take a broken man right in my hands And then put back all his parts"

Dick's "i can fix him" issues which are a massive part of his relationship with Deathstroke come from acting as a child parent to Bruce.

But the greatest part?

He still is.

Again and again and again. Dick is the only person Bruce relies on. He never tells anyone his secrets or worries unless that person is Dick. And often he bears the brunt of the work by his family. Both Tim and Jason have gotten angry at him for taking Bruce's side or supporting Bruce but the thing is, he's the only one who can next to Alfred. Tim has accused and praised him of being too much like Batman sometimes but when you raise a kid (adult-sized) I think you're bound to forgive them while also admonishing them for their mistakes.

They also use Dick as the unofficial spokesperson to talk to Bruce

"Hey. Tim told me about Zur. Are you alright?"

Side note: Tim tried talking to Bruce earlier but Bruce kept ignoring his concerns.

For each robin, Dick acts as the emotional go between Bruce and them.

Jason:

Jason's sad face :'(

That moment meant so much to him

Tim:

Another reason why Dick and Tim are so close is because Dick acted like the parent during Tim's robin era. It wasn't until recent comics that they had Bruce actually even caring about Tim.

Damian:

Also Dick and Damian father and son moment <33

Dick the fixer upper. Always fixing everyone's family issues. With each other or with Bruce.

Also the scene of Martha Wayne thanking Dick

There's a comic panel where Bruce says "Dick is the glue that holds the family together."

Dick is literally the light of his life. Without him Bruce would've lost it. It was the perfect combination of Dick's cheerful personality, strong ethics, and tragic backstory that caused Bruce to take him in and it was these same traits that helped him grow. Because Dick's distinguishable trait is that he humanizes people. And Dick humanized and raised Bruce.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I have a character who has nerve damage in both her left arm and leg and I'm a lil stuck on what mobility aids I can give her, since she'll sometimes need one for her knee (which has the bulk of the nerve damage in her leg). As far as I'm aware, crutches won't work since it'll put pressure on the left shoulder, which has the bulk of the nerve damage in her arm, and a cane will be difficult since her hand can get stiff and not hold it properly. Any advice you have would be greatly appreciated!

Hi, thank you for your question!

If I understood the situation correctly, your character could definitely use a cane as you use it on the opposite side from the "bad leg". So unless she has the stiffness issue in her right hand as well it shouldn't be a problem.

For example: my right leg is the worse one, so I use a cane in my left hand. This way when I walk it feels more natural because people generally go left hand forward and right leg forward etc. It's great because when you walk you put the weight on either the good leg in the middle, or the cane and the bad leg on the sides which redistributes the weight between them and thus makes it less painful.

Some other options would be;

a singular crutch — basically like a cane but more useful for a lot of people as it provides more balance;

two platform crutches — they're like regular crutches but made for people who have a very weak grip, probably not ideal due to the shoulder situation she has but it's still an option?;

a hemiwalker — a walker that you use with one hand, kind of like a very advanced cane. I have very little experience with these so I won't be able to help much I'm afraid :-( (sad face);

a power wheelchair — much bigger than all the previous options obviously, but you can operate with only one hand or even no hands if needed. If I misunderstood your ask and she has grip issues in both hands, this would probably be the best option (it also has "power" in the name which makes it even cooler).

For anything that you use with one hand (cane, crutch, hemiwalker etc.) you will use it on the opposite side from the bad leg. If you're familiar with Dr House, he uses his cane wrong (lol) - walking like that seems very frustrating and painful to me.

You also might want to look at this post, which talks about the basics of a lot of mobility aids! There are also different types of crutches or canes mentioned (most notably the quad cane which provides much more stability than your regular cane) that you might want to consider for her.

I hope my answer was helpful! If you have more questions, feel free to send another ask.

Mod Sasza

[hyperesthesias]

Can you actually write something smutty for Viktor? Or just a guide on how to? I really want to write some Viktor smut, but I'm worried I won't do his disability justice as I'm able bodied and a dumbass

Of my twelve years on this webbed site, this has got to be the best ask I have ever received lmao

I would be happy to help, friend. I'll answer this in two parts.

Yes, I am planning on writing Viktor smut for Viktor x Anya. I had a lot happen in the year since I made the post you're referencing, but I've finally been able to get back into fandom stuff. I wanted to lay some backstory with them first though, as I am apparently a PWP kind of person lmao. It's coming soon! (No pun intended).

You've taken the first great step in recognizing that your experience and knowledge may not be congruent with potential portrayal, and therefore asking for advice. I don't mean to sound patronizing at all. I am an author and I have seen many professional authors that don't do this, so you're already ahead of the game! I wouldn't consider that dumbassery in any way, shape, or form.

I'll put the rest under a cut due to the nature of this post.

*Disclaimer to this is, of course, I don't speak for every disabled person, this list isn't extensive, and these are my opinions.

I, personally, operate under the assumption that Viktor has Post Polio Syndrome. Looking at photographs (x, x, x) it's pretty clear the animators used PPS as a framework for Viktor's movements and posture, as well as his mobility and assistive devices. People with PPS often develop need for braces, canes or crutches, and treatment for scoliosis -- all of which Viktor has. You are more than welcome to headcanon something different, as I don't believe the writers or animators have ever confirmed or denied PPS, but based on my own experience and research, I would bet money on it.

That being said -- regardless of PPS, or otherwise -- the first thing to consider when writing smut for any disabled character is fatigue. It may not be the obvious thing, as mobility devices often are the first thing to catch an observer's eye. But there is so much that goes on beneath mobility devices. Fatigue is a big one.

Consider the worst flu you've ever had -- all the time, every day, even in your sleep. It can be maddening, like you can't get any relief -- even if you take pain reliever or use other analgesics. Most people with a severe flu aren't exactly in the mood to be frisky, especially spontaneously. Many physically disabled people rely on preplanning. Having a date night where they can plan for extra pain reliever, or where they can schedule the rest of their day or week to conserve energy for a special night. The psychological energy that people need to conserve alone can take a lot of effort. Being disabled is also mentally exhausting, especially when you have a partner and their needs to consider. Giving a disabled person time to prepare for sex (or other tasks) is essential.

Related to that, is the fact the energy levels aren't always consistent. A disabled person and their lover could be going at it like rabbits for a while and then suddenly the disabled partner may need to stop because their "battery" (their physical energy levels) has run out. They may need a break for a few minutes, or they may just need to end the sexual encounter altogether.

The worst thing you (or your character) could do is take this personally. It has nothing to do with their partner, it's their body that is (frustratingly [on many levels]) not cooperating.

Something to toy with (no pun intended) when writing characters with energy level deficits is vibrators. Twice the work with half the effort. Don't be afraid to write smut with toys and vibrators -- it doesn't even have to be kinky. Toys and vibrators are normal and vanilla, all things considered. The only reason they haven't been normalized is because of patriarchal standards as to what sex is and is supposed to be.

The second thing to consider is physical limitations of positions and potential discomfort. I've seen several fanfic writers describe situations and positions that Viktor simply would never be able to do (e.g. lifting his partner onto a table or desk).

Viktor doesn't have a lot of strength. That's not to say he can't be rough or that all smut has to be vanilla. But realistically, it's absurd to think that he can lift someone else or manhandle them with any force, or thrust at the speed of light (💀). He also doesn't have any balance whatsoever post Act I. During Act I, he's able to hobble somewhat without his cane, as long as he has something to hold onto, as seen in episode three. But in Acts II and III, his balance issues combined with scoliosis would make any positions where he has to stand much more difficult.

Therefore, if you're wanting to write a scene somewhere outside of a bedroom (e.g. the lab, his office, etc.), he'd need something to balance himself. Seated sex is a great concept to play with -- very disability friendly and offers many options for all sorts of scenes. Desk/table sex is also realistic, as long as your character lifts themself onto the desk or table, and he's able to lean on it.

Scenes that take place in the bedroom also have their own limitations. He has zero use of his right leg, which means he'd need more time to get in and out of different positions. Missionary would take a toll on his back, I'd imagine, from being hunched over -- not that he couldn't do it at all, but that was more of a sidenote. Having your character straddle him, while his back was supported, is probably the most comfortable position I can imagine. Or spooning. Or maybe doggy, though I think his back and hips might get tired. But I'm just spit balling at this point. Utilizing objects from the setting is important -- pillows, having your character bent over the back of a couch, etc. This is where creativity comes in -- it's just important to keep in mind where his limitations are located on his body: his back and his leg/hip.

There are also adaptive devices for sex and disabilities.

One final thing I want to say is: don't overcorrect. This is common. It's one thing to keep a character's disability in mind, but it's another to make a disability the entire character. Just because Viktor is disabled doesn't mean he can't have the filthiest, most disgusting, raw, life changing, I-should-visit-a-confessional type of sex. However you headcanon him to be in bed is exactly how he can be. If you see him as a cruel Dom, he absolutely can slap the shit out of whoever has the pleasure of being beneath him, while he makes them beg for his mercy -- with his back and leg supported. If you see him as a bratty sub, he can be that, too -- while he lies there with a back pillow to relieve pressure off his spine. If he's the plainest, blander-than-vanilla type of lover, that's exactly what he is -- while he takes a few extra minutes to move from one position to the next. If he's any combination of those things, more power to you.

The point of writing a scene, is the point you're trying to make. Meaning: a lot of writers worry about conveying ideas and settings perfectly and with detail, while losing sight of the main point of their story. Rarely will you ever have to add paragraphs to a piece of writing in order to convey something, especially if it's not the main point. Often, it only takes one or two sentences. Keep the main point of the scene in mind. If you're writing a fic where Viktor and your character are secretly getting it on in the lab, then the point and the idea of that scene is the forbidden sex they are having. Not necessarily his limitations. You can easily acknowledge Viktor's disability by saying something like: 'Viktor sat on a chair at the far end of the lab, away from the door's line of sight. He leaned his back against the seat, allowing his spine to settle, before he coaxed his lover onto his lap. His lover straddled his legs, reaching to kiss his neck, while his hand trailed up their thighs...' You've successfully conveyed the limitations he has in two sentences, while maintaining the focus of your scene, and without reducing Viktor to a caricature of his disability. Less is more throughout your fic.

As a side note, which is completely my headcanon -- and something I've vaguely alluded to in my Viktor x Anya fics -- is that Viktor also has erectile dysfunction as a result of the PPS. Polio is a neurological virus, meaning is attacks the nerve cells, the main cause of the atrophy in PPS. It isn't common, but it's not uncommon for males with PPS to struggle with ED. As such, in my own personal stories, I have mentioned that Viktor takes medication to help with it. Sildenafil (the generic for Viagra) is a medication that specifically targets nerves.

That's my own person interpretation, though, and has no bearing on what we seen in Arcane lol.

To close this off for now, I want to reassure you that your efforts count and they matter. No one will write any depiction of disability 'perfectly'. Disability is unique to every person, and one person's spinal disability will look different to another's. Even people with the exact same diagnosis and prognosis will differ in how they experience it. You're not a dumbass. You're very intelligent to recognize the need for external resources. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the work you write, and keep asking questions.

If and when you decide to write your Viktor smut piece, I would love to read it. And likewise, if you'd like to read what I write I'd be happy to send it to you! If you're comfortable coming off anon, you can message me privately and we can talk more!

[cootcutebatkat]

Ford MBTI: INTP or INTJ?

This has been the fucking crutch of my existence for a while as I still desperately trying to understand Ford completely. Rather than do my very important homework, I wanna explore Ford’s MBTI type as it is all I can think about. Who is this man? How exactly does he operate? Can people, including fictional characters who feel so damn real to me, be sorted into personality categories so easily? Am I overthinking this? And, something that I haven’t even considered, is he another type altogether?

Well, I can start with what we do know about Ford.

He relies far more on logical reasoning and decision-making over emotional ones. While both types do feel emotions, obviously, feeling functions are decision makers that value morals, beliefs, and feelings over logic. The difference between INTJ and INTP is how such decision functions operate. And before I bother explaining them, I would rather observe Ford some more. Or, more accurately, write about him to get a clearer picture.

He’s heavily introverted, preferring his own company over others, and is even a bit anti-social, considering his disdain for the general populations, such as the people of his hometown and of Gravity Falls. He believed them to be very small minded, simpletons even, and either needlessly stupid, cruel, or both. While we have seen him attempting to branch out and desire socializing, the results aren’t usually pleasant, thus encouraging isolation. Still, the quantity of them is considerable, such as the lightbulb for the family (requiring him to notice its absence and to consider solving the problem, even if it doesn’t affect him in the basement), coaxing Stan to join a game of DD&MD, and even his ruminations about talking to girls if he succeeds in building the portal.

He’s extremely inventive, often taking unusual paths such as using fire to shave his face or concluding that Gravity Falls’ weirdness concentration is the result of something outside of their dimension. 

The more I write, the more certain I feel that Ford is an INTP and I will explore why. I might explore him as an INTJ but not now. Not when the former is more fitting. I should also explore how Ford depicts an unhealthy INTP and is often in a Ti-Si loop. Not to mention, we’ve seen him the most in stressful situations, such as the fights between him and Stanley, the reopening of the portal, getting kidnapped for nefarious reasons twice (Probabilitor and the Security Drones), and Weirdmaggedon. Considering that MBTI is all about tendencies and preferences, it makes it difficult to consider Ford’s functions. But as I’ve explored his character, I am still confident.

Dominant Introverted Thinking: Accuracy, Logic, and a Wealth of Knowledge

Relies on multiple premises before finalizing on a decision. This one is seen best in The Book of Bill with Ford’s pro-con list about calling Stan to him. Whereas Extraverted Thinking (Te) is more about efficiency and heuristics (general statements), Introverted Thinking (Ti) opens up to possibilities, preferring to not assume right away what the answer is. Just because it has happened several times before doesn’t mean that it’s likely to happen again. There is always the risk of inaccuracy, something that Te isn’t entirely opposed to as it is more flexible. This is why Ti is often associated with extraverted perceiving functions, which are more adaptable. However, such reasoning in this function stack only applies to logic, not ethics and morals. Another way to overcome this rigidity, however, is to move past the binary… by creating more categories! Hey, it’s better than the all-or-nothing approach!

Those who use Introverted Thinking are often very precise with their words, which is seen in Ford’s writing and use of abstract language (“Sometimes the strangest things are right under our noses… And our feet in this particular instance!”) and his corrections on grammar (that Weirdmaggedon scene still feels more out of pettiness rather than a true desire for correct grammar to me, though. …Eh).

Ti Users are also prone to literal thinking, looking past context, or assuming that their conclusions are truly accurate and/or shared by the common populace. Not only did we see this when Ford comically assumed that “Batch out for Will!” was absolute nonsense (who is Will? And batch isn’t a verb, it’s a noun!), but also, tragically, when he assumed Stan’s actions at the Science Fair were intentional. 

Over all, Ford’s most natural function is his judgment of probability, accuracy, and reasoning, desiring above all else to understand the world and beyond.

Auxiliary Extraverted Intuition: There’s an infinite amount of possibilities and they’re all valid!

To bypass the rigidity of Ti, extraverted perception functions come in to give counter arguments, to encourage exploration. In Extraverted Intuition (Ne), this type of thinking is very divergent, exploding with a million ideas that almost appear random, even though they truly aren’t. Rather, via the use of Introverted Sensing (which we’ll get to), Ne is constantly inspired and eager to explore the unconventional and improbable, no matter how illogical they seem to be. While both Intuition Functions connect things on an abstract, metaphysical level (such as word play or analogies), Ne doesn’t settle on only a handful of ideas the way Ni does. Ni is more profound yet narrow-minded while Ne is more explorative but flaky. 

Ford’s Ne is best seen in his twelve PhDs. While a PhD is more about depth of insight in a subject, like Ni, the sheer amount of them lends to Ford’s need to explore all the ideas, especially things that are statistically improbable and, therefore, challenging his Ti. He adapted to the weirdness of Gravity Falls quite easily and, in a childhood flashback, Ford offered strange and wonderful ideas about ghostly pirates or mesoamerican gold in a shipwreck he and his brother founded. Not to mention his own quirks and rather out-there behaviors, like he switched from one thought to another. This is also seen best in his journals, full of rather unorganized ideas and observations and jokes, and in his hobbies such as DD&MD (it’s full of risk and imagination!)

Tertiary Introverted Sensing: The Details and The Past

A perceiving, learning function, introverted sensing (Si) is all about reviewing past experiences and comparing them to the present, favoring the tried and true over the unconventional (unless you’re an intuitive type). INTPs use this function as a way to support their frameworks and decisions, to play, to balance things out, and to correct what their more natural functions have noticed or created. This function is best seen in nostalgia, noticing fine sensory details and changes to the environment, recognizing physical patterns, perceiving bodily sensations, history, yoga and similar exercises. Unhealthy Si can often manifest as obsessive and perfectionist, or alternatively, extremely absent-minded or difficulty holding onto information on seemingly minute details. It’s no wonder that ENxPs are often associated with ADHD.

Unlike Extraverted Sensing (Se) which is in the moment, flexible, and adaptive, Si is less so as it keeps an internal record, hence why those with strong Si often have good episodic and visually detailed memory and consistent schedules. In fact, Si users tend to navigate through life via nostalgia as each and every sensory experience reminds them of previous ones, another reason as to why they favor the past and the familiar. Si users are also quite good at drawing on detailed connections between sensory inputs, such as comparing how the red of an apple is like the red of a shirt their old friend wears or how it’s not as red as the other apples they’ve eaten so far or as juicy. 

Nostalgia is seen in every type, but is valued and expressed differently. And, as someone who personally lacks in my top four function stack, I have difficulty understanding it myself, hence why I had written so much about it.

That’s why Ford’s examples are starting here, so hopefully you, dear reader, aren’t too lost. Ford’s Si is best seen in, again, his journals, helping to reorganize information to later review upon and ruminate, but also in his tendency to hold grudges (aside from his Inferior Fe, which we will get to, I promise). Ford also exhibited this in his exercise routines, use of yoga and meditation, and rather quick recovery of injuries. He didn’t seem all too opposed to having a metal plate installed in his head nor tattoos, both of which sound rather uncomfortable. Not to mention how he was willing to hand over his body to Bill during their friendship. It’s clear it wasn’t always this way as he was much clumsier and unathletic as a child, but as he grew older, he developed his tertiary function (quite typical in mbti typology!) and became comfortable with the sensory world, although not fully wisened to it the way more expert Si users are. His loathing of sleep and absent-minded tendencies best exhibit this. In essence, Ford gradually became more like Mabel as he grew.

Inferior Extraverted Feeling: The Needs of the Many (Can’t Stand People, Can’t Be Without Them)

Inferior functions are so damn hilarious if they didn’t sabotage us at nearly every turn. Many times, such functions are likened to that of a toddler. We love them, but we also hate them and are extremely annoyed by them. We hate the specific function within us, within others no matter their position, the general concept of it, but occasionally, it will bat its big, wet eyes at us and coo in its most enticing, adorable lisp ever. We let our guard down and wham, we’re burned out again. But unlike a toddler that needs an adult, we need the inferior function. This results in constantly repressing the function like a spring, until stress demands our attention and distracts us, causing the spring to be let loose and bounce all over the place, inwardly and externally.

Feeling functions, as I’ve said before, is best associated with how we decide upon moral or ethical decisions. Introverted Feeling (Fi) is similar to Ti in that it prefers accuracy and consistency, but it is directed to the self and to what is felt right. As an introverted function, it is also narrower but deeper, less flexible but more withstanding, and is a very loyal function, refusing to compromise or back down in the face of opposition. In short, Fi is about long-term satisfaction with the self and the heart, not wanting to live with regrets because they sacrificed their morality for something.

Extraverted Feeling (Fe), on the other hand, is more adaptive than Fi, willing to conform to social norms for the sake of harmony. Relying on heuristics of the introverted perceiving functions, Fe will approach people with a general attitude (typically, people want to be treated this way), unlike Fi which prefers a “treat people how you want to be treated” ideal. As you can see, both are actually quite fair and empathetic.

Fe users also tend to value belonging the most, often defining themselves by an external role such as a job or relationship title (ie. husband, student, teacher, etc). And while it’s a judgment function and not a perceiving one, Fe users are often easily influenced by others when it comes to emotions, resulting in a difficulty to understand their own unless it’s laid out externally. This is where Ford’s journaling and outbursts come in. (note, this is a general observation in mbti typology!)

For inferior Fe in Ford and emotional regulation, it’s best seen in two clips; when Stan interrupts Ford’s game with Dipper and when Ford tries to reason with Dipper who is panicking about his past association with Bill. In both, Ford is visibly attempting, and struggling, to keep calm while his emotions are reaching their tipping point. He yells at both Stan and Dipper and then attempts to gather himself for both his own and the other’s sake, trying to keep a calm atmosphere in the room. 

As for his desire for independence from Stanley, it may be due to how emotionally loud he is, overriding Ford’s Fe radar and muddying his own feelings. Not only that, but as an intuitive with no Se in the top four and a tertiary Si, Ford could only read himself through his bodily cues, something that had to be accrued over time to fully understand. This may also explain his need for isolation as well.

But the biggest crux of them all, the most withstanding theory on Fe, is Ford’s prioritization of humanity and others over the few/the self and his high concern with his image. Both of which he flip-flops between and struggles to find a middle ground. 

For his self-image, Ford has been well aware since day one that he is not like the others, that he is a freak. While an Fi user in his situation would also feel incredibly alone, they would also relish in their uniqueness, making it a point of pride and feel at ease within their own authenticity and consistency. Rather than being understood, what’d they rather have is validation and acceptance for who they are, even if no one gets them. For Ford, an Fe user, he truly does want to be understood and, more importantly, belong. He has often wondered if there is a place where weirdos like him fit in, not something an Fi user would really desire. But as this function is the lowest of the bunch, and Ford has also been bullied and ostracized since day one, Ford holds an incredibly low opinion of humanity, defying logic for the sake of pure, nonsensical conformity. 

And yet, he still puts in a huge amount of effort to polish his self-image, making it accurate to himself and his best qualities, but also palatable to outsiders. This has more than likely resulted in Ford’s obsession with being worthy enough to become part of the patron of sciences, just like Nikola Tesla and Einstein. And his obsession with burying his journals instead of ridding them entirely (as well as his Ti demanding that such knowledge must stay preserved no matter what).

It’s late and I want this posted. So I might edit this later or better yet, reblog it with some editions. Or create a separate post as a continuation. I ain’t gonna proofread this because I’ve planning and putting this concept for a longggg time and I wanna kick that habit rn. Fuck it we ball!!! Sorry if it's not organized well

[willowbee367]

Ok so since some people want to see my au here it is. Also I read the comics. This isn't accurate to how the comics are since it is an au. This is mostly focused on Brian. I kinda project onto him so just a small warning for future things.

The stuff with Tim was mostly @/krispawwxx ideas. With some of my own mixed into it

This au is called Lost memories.

Trigger warning: mention of Suicide but like once

Updated on July 21

Brian

I headcanon that Hoodie/Brian purposefully fell out of the window. Since I believe Tim didn't push him.(If it's been confirmed that Tim did in fact push him please tell me)

Brian had survived the fall. He woke up in the hospital after a few weeks. Similar to Jessica he doesn't remember anything. He doesn't remember Tim or anyone else. He doesn't know how he even got in the hospital. After a while he was released from the hospital. Unfortunately he wasn't able to walk very well so he used a crutch. He later gets a service/emotional support dog named Izzy who's a poodle(I just like poodles).

Brian has nightmares about the ark as well as all of the victims(So Jay, Alex, Seth, Sarah, Amy, and Chris aka the tunnel guy). He doesn't know who they are. He has dreams about two masks. Which is his mask when he used to be Hoodie as well as Tim's mask. He is very freaked out about this.

He does go to therapy. He takes medication for depression, anxiety, as well as for his hallucinations. He hasn't seen the Operator yet. He doesn't remember what the operator is.

He MIGHT be able to become Hoodie still. I haven't decided on that yet so we'll see.

Him and Tim have met again. Ofc he doesn't remember him

Tim

So after everything Tim mostly stays as Masky. He thinks Brian had died since he saw him fall out of the window. But he soon found out Brian survived. He visited him everyday in the hospital. But Brian was in a coma for those few weeks. He'd leave Brian flowers. But once Brian woke up he stopped visiting.

It didn't take long for the two to run into each other. Tim looked like he saw a ghost. He was crushed when Brian asked who he was. He realized Brian didn't remember him so he just dropped it. The two have run into each other a few other times since it's kind of a small town. They didn't talk very much. But Tim ended up giving Brian his phone number in case something happens.

He can become Masky. It's becoming a lot more frequent though. His medication doesn't work.

Jessica

Nothing really changes with her. She still doesn't remember anything from Marble Hornets. She still encounters Skully and blah blah

She and Brian will end up meeting since Skully will need both of their help killing the Operator. They obviously don't remember each other.

Jessica is slowly getting her memory back though. She does remember Amy(since in the comics she sees her in a hallucination). She ofc still remembers Tim. Since he did help her. I imagine they kept in touch.

------

End note: Everything is still a WIP so things will be added and changed. I already have two things written down which I'll post soon. If you guys have ideas let me know! I'm open to ideas. This is kind of a mess so I do apologize. I just kinda ramble. Also if you guys have questions feel free to ask.

[blade-liger-4ever]

So, I've decided to start something.

Well, a series of somethings.

I've had some Star Wars AU ideas as of late, which I'm thinking of turning into little ficlets that will be posted on Tumblr. If I feel bold enough from my experiences here, I may transfer them over to my WordPress account, but time will tell on that front. In most of these fanfics (which hopefully won't be long - or not, we'll see), there are going to be featured a couple of OCs, as well as established character/OC relationship(s) over previously established pairings. Many of you will probably be discontent over this, however, I will do my best to explain these new pairings and why I was dissatisfied with the original love interest.

Before I get into that however, I will introduce one of these OCs, who was also inspired by the lost potential of one of Disney's most recent princesses.

Click below, and you shall see Starkiller/Galen Marek's AU love interest: Raya Karimi, descendant of the noble House of Zakuul.

Now, before we get going, let me say something: I do not hate Juno Eclipse. I did, however, find the connection between her and Galen...a little unsettling. I am not saying it was unhealthy or toxic, nor am I saying that Juno should have never been in the same room as Galen. That said, it seemed, at least in the second game for sure, that Galen was over-relying on her and putting too much of his needs/hopes on her for his own good. And no, I'm not agreeing with what the narrative said about Vader having control over Galen so long as she lived. I think what I'm trying to say is that, she ended up being a Living Emotional Crutch for him, and that trope - whether applied to a man or woman, in real life or in fiction - deeply unsettles me. The idea that someone needs another person in order to operate as a human being, or to be kept from totally falling apart...it doesn't sit well with me, and, I suppose, scares me. I don't want that for either of them, hence a new love interest for Galen.

Now, whether or not Juno lived after that final cutscene in Force Unleashed II, I confess, for the purposes of this AU...Juno does die. In the main Star Wars universe that I envision, she does live, but for the purposes of my story, it only makes sense that she is killed by either Darth Vader or Boba Fett. Galen can only do so much to protect her, and moreover, the likelihood of either of those villains killing her is extremely high. PROXY will, quite possibly, be at least salvageable here as well; I don't yet know if he will be a series of pieces that Galen and Raya and their other two crew members will have to put back together, or have his parts integrated into a separate unit. Considering I gave Raya a revamped HK-77 assassin/protocol droid as her muscle pre-meeting Galen (HK-77s are from Legends, by the way; look them up), PROXY's role may be redundant, in which case, some of his salvageable components would be used for HK.

She will also have a small, cat-dragon hybrid known as a felico. Her name is Tapi, and I'm trying to picture her as a traditional Asiatic/Japanese dragon, but one that is small enough that she can easily climb onto someone's shoulder. I picture the same body style, but with shorter whiskers, dexterous talon-like paws, feathered wings of proper proportion, and some fur that helps her with sneaking some items off bad guys, or just all the way around enhance her cuddliness. Color wise, she might be all black or shades of gray with bright green eyes.

Raya I envision as one of the few survivors of the noble family from Zakuul, with perhaps a smidgeon of Force-sensitivity. Her family had guarded artifacts from the Old Republic Era (the time of Revan in SW:KOTOR to SW:TOR, for reference), and so she was trained in the use of both melee and ranged weapons. She was an energetic child, and a prodigy when it came to most topics, although she worked exceptionally hard to get good at working with starship systems and repairs. The Empire eventually came to Zakuul for those same artifacts, around the time Raya was twelve or fourteen. The planet attempted to fight, and was soon overpowered; however, many managed to take off with the artifacts, hiding them away from Imperial eyes. Raya was captured after one battle, and after some time, forced to watch her father's public execution. This sent her into a blind rage, and before she knew it, the squadron that had been detaining her lay at her feet in pools of blood and missing limbs. Shaken by her own actions, she managed to escape, and spent the next six or eight years bouncing across the galaxy as a freelance agent for hire. However, Raya never worked with the Empire, and even though she made apparently shady deals, it was all in the effort to locate those missing artifacts, which she managed to hide with the aid of the hidden in plain sight Jedi Haja Estree.

Following one lead on the edge of the Outer Rim/Wild Space from their efforts on Tanalorr, Raya comes across the remains of the Rogue Shadow on an unnamed planet, the owner of whom, Galen Marek, has resided in for almost a month. He's full of anger, but her stubbornness, humor, and clear disdain for the Empire manages to convince him that she is an ally and not an enemy. Working together, they leave the planet and attempt to return while being side-tracked by HK-77 picking up old, disconnected transmissions from something ancient - so ancient, in fact, that it could be a cache of artifacts from the time of Revan....

I hope you find this interesting, and if you want more, please feel free to check in for updates on it!

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 8

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us so, baby can we dance through an avalanche?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ben’s injury begins to take a toll on your relationship warnings: angst & some cursing word count: 1.8k

a/n: sorry for more angst :( it won’t last long, i promise!!

see my masterlist for previous chapters

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, masonmount and others

benchilwell Absolutely gutted to have injured my ACL again so early in the season. I’m going to work hard to return to the pitch as quickly as possible and get back to playing for my club and country. Thanks for all the support. 💙

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

masonmount You’ll come back stronger ❤️

cmpulisic You got this chilly 💙

jackgrealish Speedy recovery mate ❤️

-

It’s an incredibly tough couple of weeks following Ben’s injury - for both of you.

The first few days, he’s in so much pain he can barely move at all, on complete bed rest except for the trip to the hospital to get an MRI.

You see something shatter within him the moment the doctor tells him it’s a complete tear of the ACL and he’s looking at 6-9 months for recovery. The Euros are in nine months, which means he could not only miss the rest of the season with Chelsea, but also be unable to play for his country once again. The possibility of that is too grim for you to take after everything he’s been through in the past.

The surgery is successful, thank goodness, and you take a few days off to devote yourself fully to his care. Ben insists that he can ask his parents to come down or one of his mates, feeling guilty that you have to use your vacation time, but you won’t hear of it. You can’t imagine not being here for him at this time.

The day after his operation, Ben’s parents drive down to London to visit. You’ve actually only met them once before, when they were in town for a visit during the summer. Due to Ben’s busy schedule, he doesn’t get home as much as he would like, but they come to London to see him and watch him play as much as they can.

“Ben, sweetie,” you say gently as you enter the dark bedroom.

The pain meds have made him particularly drowsy, and you want to encourage that rest as much possible, so you got him set up in the main floor guest room for the morning while you cleaned his house to make it presentable for his parents. You’ve been living off takeout since his injury and way too tired to clean up after the both of you after waking up with him throughout the night to get him his pain meds or a fresh ice pack.

Ben stirs slightly as you sit next to him and run your fingers through his hair.

“D’you need to change the bandages again?”

“No, babe, not yet,” you tell him. “Your mum just texted, they’re almost here.”

He nods drowsily and sits up, grimacing as he does so. You help him put on a t-shirt and some comfy basketball shorts and grab his crutches so he can make his way into the living room.

His parents arrive a few minutes later. His mum, Sally, comes prepared with all of Ben’s favourite foods, and his dad, Wayne, suggests they put on a rugby match. You know that watching sports is how he and his dad bond, and you appreciate that he had the sense not to put on a football game - especially since Chelsea is playing today in their first match since the injury.

You make everyone some tea and bring it into the living room along with the biscuits Sally made. While Ben’s parents are happily chatting away and updating him on his sister’s uni application process and how his grandparents are doing, he barely says a word - he just sips his tea and stares down at the thick bandages and brace on his knee, a reminder of how long it will be before he’s back to doing what he loves.

“Ben, do you want some more tea?” you ask after he’s finished his cup, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbles, not making eye contact with you or reciprocating your touch.

Although he was quite clingy and wanted you as close to him as possible when he was still coming down from the anesthesia, he’s been a bit distant toward you since. You can’t blame him, knowing how much pain he’s in both physically and mentally, but it still hurts a bit. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even after a tough loss.

“Y/N, would you join me in the kitchen for a moment?” Sally asks with a small smile.

You nod and follow her into the other room, pouring both of you another cup before sitting down at the kitchen island and burying your head in your hands when you think she’s not looking.

When Sally turns around, you try to plaster a fake smile on, but it’s pretty clear that she’s not buying it.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks you in a motherly tone.

“Yeah,” you say, maybe a bit too quickly to be believable. “It’s just been hard to see him like this.”

Sally nods sympathetically. “I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of him, Y/N.“

There’s a pause as she comes and sits on the stool next to you.

“He can be…difficult when he’s injured,” Sally continues, lowering her voice. “The last bad one, when he missed the World Cup, that took quite the toll on him.”

You nod, your heart aching for him even more.

“I just wish I could take it away,” you confess. “I hate that anything is standing in the way of his dreams. He’s so talented and he’s such a good person and I just…”

As you trail off, there’s a smile on Sally’s face, and she reaches out to grab and squeeze your hand.

“I can see why my son loves you so much,” she says sincerely. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you, and he knows it. So if he’s ever acting like a bit of a prick, just remember he’s upset with the situation, not with you, alright?”

You nod and blink back the tears that had begun to form in your eyes, smiling back at Ben’s mum.

“Thank you, Sally.”

-

While you try to take Ben’s mother’s words to heart, knowing that you can trust the woman who raised him, things seem to be getting worse as Ben starts to heal.

Although he’s incredibly reliant on you for the first week and a half, needing your help showering and moving upstairs, he starts to become a bit more agile on his crutches as the pain goes from agonizing to bearable.

Since it’s clear that he’s feeling slightly better, and has even begun to see the Chelsea physio, you decide that it might be good for him to socialize a bit. He’s an outgoing guy and he’s used to seeing his mates every day, and lately the only people he sees are you and his medical team.

While you’re driving him home from his three-week checkup, at which he was cleared to start bearing partial weight on his leg as tolerated, you suggest having some of the boys over later.

“They’ve got training,” Ben mutters.

“Not in the evenings,” you point out. “I know Mase wants to see you, and I’m sure Christian and Reece would-“

“I don’t feel like it,” he snaps.

You drop the subject for the remainder of the drive, ignoring his bitter tone and the way he doesn’t say anything else the whole way home.

The next day, you have to go into the office. You’ve been working from home as much as possible to make sure you’re there if Ben needs anything, but you have an important meeting that requires your presence.

When you get home - well, to Ben’s, but you’ve only been to your flat to get some clothes since his injury - you are greeted by Oscar at the door, but are surprised that Ben isn’t at his usual spot on the couch.

Confused and a bit worried, you make your way upstairs and enter the bedroom. When he isn’t in bed either, you feel significantly more worried, calling out his name.

He doesn’t answer, so you try the bathroom, the gaming room, another bedroom - all empty. Finally, you open the door to his home gym, the last place you wanted to find him.

He’s sitting on the floor next to the treadmill, a few weights next to him, sweat on his forehead.

You feel your blood begin to boil with rage, but you try to restrain yourself from yelling at him.

“What are you doing in here?” you demand, putting a hand in your hip.

Finally noticing your presence, Ben takes his earphones out and looks up at you.

“Just a light workout,” he mutters as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“A light workout?” you ask incredulously. “Ben, you’re only supposed to be walking a few steps at a time and with assistance. You should not be working out, definitely when I’m not home.”

Ben refuses to look you in the eye, fiddling with the hem of his shorts.

“I’m serious!” you continue, walking closer to him. “You could injure yourself again or at the very least slow down your recovery-“

“Y/N, I’ve gone through injuries before,” Ben retorts. “I’ll be fine. I’m done sitting around doing nothing-“

“You tore your ACL less than a month ago, Ben! You need time to heal.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he snaps. “Trust me, I’m well aware that my bloody knee is messed up yet again and I’m stuck at home for god knows how long, I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for taking care of you when you’re hurt,” you snap back. “Sorry for trying to prevent you from making your injury worse, for supporting you-“

“By treating me like a fucking child who can’t take care of himself.”

Ben seems to know he crossed a line by the look on your face the moment he said it. Your heart drops in your chest at the cruelty your boyfriend is showing you right now - he’s never said anything nearly this hurtful to you before.

You begin to walk away out of fear that you’ll start crying in front of him, and you can hear him trying to get up behind you.

“Y/N, wait - ow, fuck-“

Despite how angry you are with him, you can’t ignore his grunts of pain as he attempts to stand up, having obviously overdone it today.

You can barely stand to look at him, but you still offer him a hand and help him hobble over to the bench, setting his crutches up on the wall next to him.

“Yeah, you clearly don’t need my help,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I’m going home. Call one of your mates if you need help. Maybe they won’t treat you like a ‘fucking child’.”

Although you can hear him calling out for you, you keep walking, slamming the front door behind you and running to the car as your tears blend with the rain pouring down outside.

tagging: @xjval​  (just let me know if anyone else would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters!)

next chapter 💙

[v3nusxsky]

Hello! 👋

Is it possible to request a lady lesso x f!reader who has also a cane and struggles to walk with it and she gets frustrated in front of lesso who just reassures her and helps her out? It can be romantic or motherly, whatever you prefer! 😊

☄️Have a good day/night/afternoon!!☄️

-🌙✨

My lovely moon, so lovely to hear from you, I hope this is okay for you,and that you have had a good day

Just a stupid stick

*Authors note~ I wanted to give this my best shot and thought I'd draw on my first experience with crutches to back up some of r frustrations*

Trigger warning~ walking stick, frustration? Hospitals

Prompt ~ see ask

Ever since the instant with Rafal, in which he had severely damaged the cartilage in your right leg. The operation had been pretty painless, probably due to the strong pain medication you were given. But knowing they'd only been able to save half the cartridge, that was the worst part. You knew your life would change somehow. Little did you know that would mean using a cane for a little while. They couldn't tell you how long it would take for you to recover enough to longer need it, or if the cane was for life. You lay in the bed dosed up on morphine crying for the old you that Rafal had taken.

Lady Lesso, your girlfriend of 6 months, was worried sick about you. So much so she made sure to visit as soon as classes ended for the day. She would stay as long as the hospital allowed her to, always making sure to soothe you to sleep before she had to leave. During your little breakdown over the news you'd just been given by the doctors over an hour ago. When she arrived she hadn't expected you to be in tears sobbing silently to yourself. "Little one? What's wrong my love? Are you in pain?" She murmured alerting you to her presence.

"No" you choked out through sobs. Unable to tell her anything else, you curled up the best you could without moving your injured leg. She quickly came up to lay in the bed with you, holding you as gently as she could with cooing words of reassurance and comfort, not quite understanding what was causing such a reaction from you yet absolutely hating the idea that something was bothering you this deeply and she was powerless to stop it.

The nurse popped her head around the door and noticed the addition of the fiery red head in the bed, very early one the staff had learned to just accept it as the well known Dean was not one to be messed with especially when it comes to you. So they often just smile and carry on with their job. She entered the room with a cane calling your name to grab your attention. You immediately stiffed and peaked round your girlfriend to see the cane. You sobbed more at the sight of it, finally making it real and that's when it all clicked for Lesso.

Her cane was one of the many things you loved about her, you made sure to tell her that all the time. But loving her and her cane was completely different than loving yourself with one. Lesso remembers the frustration and anger she felt when she was given a cane for the first time, even the embarrassment not that she would admit it. She had endured that alone but would make damn sure you wouldn't.

The nurse left the cane with Lesso, clearly not getting through to you so hopefully she would, instructions to encourage you to take a few steps with it due to needing to use the injured leg to adjust now the stitches were healing well. Lesso nodded in understanding remembering when it was her in that bed, with her knee absolutely murdering her, she decided to take it slow with you. First thing first was to stop those tears caressing those beautiful cheeks of yours.

It took some time but you finally calmed in her arms. She held you a while just waiting for a sigh you were ready to try and you gave her that with a simple kiss to her cheek and a whispered "help me love?" Instantly she was up and rounding the bed helping you shuffle to sit both legs gently placed over the side of the bed. You sat for a few minutes just processing what you were going to do, after all you hadn't walked in such a long time. Lesso's words of encouragement and love never stopped flowing as she handed you your cane and helped you up to stand.

The pain shot through your leg like a match meeting gasoline. You let out a pained whimper and honestly you saw your girlfriends heart shatter at the sound. She continued to stay calm and collect and encourage you to move one foot at a time. Truly you tried to, you really did but it was excruciating and the pain in your hand from shifting all your weight onto one side was overwhelming. After all it felt so unnatural. Lesso was watching you intently for any signs you would be doing someone irrational, luckily for you she knew you like the back of her hand so when you threw your cane in frustration she was straight there holding you up before you could even meet the ground. "Hush love it's okay I know it's frustrating and I know it hurts but you will get the hang of it. I know you will" she comforted while holding you up right effectively acting as a human cane.

You stayed like that calming down your unexpected anger, lesso then reached for your cane and simply kissed the handle before handing it to you. "I kissed it so now i want you to remember that every time you hold it it's filled with love from me, can you do that little one?" You nodded and smiled at the cute little gesture of love that was reserved for you and you only. You got brave and you took one step, then another until you reached the other side of the room. "I did it! I did it love, did you see?" You squealed, so proud of yourself that the adrenaline was masking the pain. "I did little one well done my darling. How's the leg? Shall we sit? Give it a rest love?" She fired questions so quickly it was hard to know what to answer first. But she'd seen you do it and that made you so proud. Although now she'd mentioned it, your leg was hurting you, you let out a pained whimper and a plead "please love." She instantly came to gather you in her arms and carry you to the bed, her cane only needed when her knee was flaring up, most the time it was just for the aesthetic. She placed you down gently and dropped a sweet kiss to your lips. "Well done my love I'm so poured of you. You'll be all good to come back soon love"

Word count~ 1174

[aelianated-star]

I saw your dysautonomia post. I've been diagnosed for over a year and known for longer but my doctor keeps refusing to prescribe me a wheelchair despite the fact I can't walk further than down the hall without one. They keep trying to send me to physical therapy (only for one body part at a time due to insurance despite also having chronic pain evenly in my whole body and experiencing post-exertional malaise even from light physical therapy). Other than just finding a new doc, which I've been working on, do you have any advice for how to get a doc to actually prescribe the mobility aids you need?

(I am lucky enough to have a decently fitted one that I cannot self propel but can be pushed in, but my partner also has POTS so that's rarely an option and only for short trips (which only because in her own words hers is "better managed" than mine currently). But I really do need probably a motorized one at this point and I know other disabled people often know how exactly to get through to a doc so even if I can't convince my current doc I can hopefully use any tips when I find a new one.)

I wish I had better advice, but I would definitely look for educated physicians who are familiar with dysautonomia and fiddle around with medications (Corlanor/Ivabravine and infusions are the only things that has even helped remotely with mine). I had the same issue with a lot of doctors and was gaslit about not having EDS until my neurologist, shortly after diagnosing me with 3 types of dysautonomia, also diagnosed me with EDS (it was glaringly obvious apparently. I’m extremely hypermobile, can dislocate things on command and experience daily dislocations/subluxations, history of heart issues that he now escalated to four regurgitating valves, stretchy, velvety skin, strophic scarring, gastroparesis, at the time pending MCAS diagnosis, etc). If you can, there are organizations that will loan out wheelchairs for relatively cheap or free for people who need them, the difficulty is just finding one that’s near you or will ship to you! Also, I would definitely recommend a lightweight, motorized wheelchair or a regular wheelchair with motorized attachments like a smart drive or motorized wheels. The weight is going to be a big factor, especially if your partner is also disabled/chronically ill and you guys need to be able to transfer it into the car. I’m kinda in the same boat right now where even in a normal lightweight wheelchair (without motorization), my heart rate will get up to 200 and I can’t push myself for more than a minute really. I’ve been stuck using my forearm crutches to get around everywhere, but since that doesn’t do anything for my heart rate or blood pressure, I’m limited to doing anything (albeit not very much) to extremely good days. I’ll link some cheaper models below, and please feel free to dm me for more advice, I’m always happy to help other people out 🩵

[daveandjako-blog]

Hello! Many are now at confusion, yes... Foxy in what form it was - no longer exists, it will be redone in a new way. But in order not to throw away the finished parts, after I spent a lot of time on them, I decided to pay tribute and make the one who actually inspired me - Philomela a mechanical bird.

I will immediately warn you that some of the art or drawings are NOT mine and are used only for an example and a general understanding of what I am doing.

More recently, I discovered an expensive, but very effective method. Paper paste (or papier mache) - is finely cut paper impregnated with a water-based adhesive and then kneaded until a homogeneous mass is obtained.

This paste can be used to fill cavities, molds - after hot drying (in my case on a table lamp), this mixture becomes so hard that I can now process it with a file.

What I did with this hand, before this, clamp it between a vise and start processing part of the joint with a file. I did this trying to make a strong connection between the parts. I inserted the spire, made both holes and covered it completely with paste, let it dry a little, took out the spire and left it to dry completely.

After I processed each part of the arm and slightly improved the connecting part (later I also covered it with paste and dried it), I got a very strong connection.

Now I'm looking for fill shapes to speed up the creation of models and parts for them.

There is a figure less than 20 cm in size, you want to make it close to the original, even parts of it... and you do it.

I couldn’t make the details identical, I had to cheat and simplify, but keep the same functionality.

Instead of a separate movable part to which part of the retractable leg is attached, it has become part of the entire leg.

* First, I made the main part itself, a tube with a cutout and a moving part.

* I picked up a tube of a suitable diameter, made a cut along, substituted a half of a thin tube from the side and fixed it. Repeated the same on the other side.

* Part of the leg slides along the edges of these tubes, at the bottom the edges of these tubes are clogged, and thanks to the cutout in the leg, part of the leg bends and the movable part slides up along the tubes.

I couldn't do it without papier mache! Important parts are made using this technique.

These are the details of the knee. I decided to slightly deviate from the original and try something new.

Was it necessary? No. Why I did this? Because I can.

Half of the gear as the base for the knee and the small gear moves with the tilt of the leg.

On the left - this is what I could limit myself to, and on the right - this is what I ended up with:

Here is a little more detail, it has a very complex mechanism in the reed. I decided to do something similar but not quite, in view of the complexity of the detail itself.

That's how I started to gradually create this mechanism:

And finally, what the leg itself looks like (so far without a foot)

This is all I can show for now. Yes, I rarely make posts, it's still my hobby, I don't get paid for it)

There is not always time for this, I had an operation last month and put a prosthesis on the hip joint, but everything is already fine with me and so far I walk with crutches.

Thanks everyone and see you soon!

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

Papa’s a liar.

New fandom, new bazillion questions I ask myself about whether or not this is even worth finishing - and thenI do anyway because I'm stubborn and my card looks prettier with one more character on it. I'm not sure how I can still stress myself out over my characterization being at least serviceable when - and I counted - this is the fourth time I'm writing a new fandom with this card alone*. At this point, it's just to cause myself issues. Anyway! I love Twilight/Loid. He's the best spy of Westalis but he's also the dumbest idiot I've ever seen. My man buys his daughter a dog first because she wants it and then because something something Operation Strix. It was also funny to remove like 70% of his agency but that's because I'm a horrible person. And also it's fun. The prompt itself wasn't very fun up until I realized I could use "Crutches" as in both the actual item and emotional crutches - aka Anya and Yor, who are absolute units at disarming a spy, apparently! Have I mentioned I love this manga yet? I hope I don't regret this fic man

----

Break a Leg, See If It Brings You Luck

Summary: It’s a good thing the only bullet he took was in the leg. It’s an easy thing to take care of and hide for the most part – far easier than on the chest or back, at the very least – as long as one finds a way to justify the slight limp it may carry with it, they’ll find themselves doing just fine.

Except this just had not to be an ordinary gunshot wound. No, the bullet just had to strike in right the perfect way to fracture the femur.

This is going to be a very long month.

Fandom: Spy x Family Characters: Loid, Anya and Yor Forget, the whole fam’s here (with a cameo from Bond too!) Ship: The eternally mutually pining TwiYor, you know how it is

Wordcount: 2.5K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version.

------

Getting shot at is nothing new. It comes with the job, one could say: dismantle a smuggling network, or fight off human traffickers and you have a good 90% chance to get attacked with firearms in retaliation. In fact, it’s an exception when you’re not – which has also happened to him, of course – so you must be prepared to patch up a gunshot wound in case thing take a turn for the sour.

He’s not above admitting, at least to himself, that he’s sometimes not been able to avoid bullets as well as he should’ve. Most of those times are so long ago that the details of it are starting to lose their edge (kind of like him, at the moment, and he still has to take care of that issue too…), but they’ve all reminded him that, in the end, they’re simply bigger flesh wounds: they merely require a bit more tending to than your regular scratch or cut.

A bullet fracturing the femur is a new one, though, even to him.

 What’s also new to him is the dependency that comes with such a fracture. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t manage to pretend like it didn’t exist in front of his fake family. He should’ve seen it coming, in retrospect, considering how much of his edge he keeps losing in front of both fake wife and fake daughter – but to Anya’s credit, she seemed to have realized on her own even before he could lie to her about this not being a big deal.

Sometimes, he wonders about the sharpness of this little girl’s instincts. For a child whose grades in school are nothing to write home about, she’s able to get through most of his smokes and mirrors, as if she could read what he meant to hide behind them. It’s… surely just his edge getting dull, though. What else could it be, huh? Surely this child who he found in some dump-like orphanage that barely deserves the name of one doesn’t read minds.

(If she somehow does, then Twilight must apologize, because exposing such a young girl to spy affairs could be considered child cruelty, he’s certain).

 At least, it’s perhaps the easiest gunshot wound in the world to explain. After all, breaking a leg can happen for a wide variety of reasons and he doesn’t have to blame a crazed patient to get away with it. It made him look somewhat stupid when he had to tell both Anya and Yor that he had tripped in the stairs because they had just been washed and he had conveniently forgotten about that, slipping on a step and tumbling down the stairs. (As long as neither of them sees the bullet-shaped hole under the cast, it’s fine).

On the flipside, it’s handicapping him more than a regular bullet hole in that area. A bone takes longer to heal back to usable capacity than flesh and skin. That’s not even getting into the fact it’s his right leg that he can’t walk with: it means he’s even limited in his movements. A broken arm, as bad as it is, at least doesn’t prevent him from running and shooting; a broken leg, on the other hand, severely limits his options for walking and, by virtue of doing so, also prevents him from using his arms when moving around.

Crutches are a pain. How did he even forget?

 Having to use both arms to move an immobile leg means he can’t even take care of chores at home, despite those being the only thing he has to worry about at the moment, aside from Operation Strix: WISE, for once, gave him time off from his usual missions, albeit only because he physically can’t handle them, he’s sure). He can’t cook dinner, he can’t walk Anya to school, he can’t walk the dog—

 “Papa, can I walk Bond today?”

He jumps – he really needs to stop losing himself in thoughts, this is smoothing his edge – and faces a concerned-looking Anya.

“We should wait until your mother is home, Anya. You’ll get carried away by his strength.”

“Mama said she’d come back super late from work today,” Anya replies.

That’s true, yes. Yor proposed to stay home and take care of housework for him, but he refused. His broken leg shouldn’t impede on her professional life. Still, this is an issue, and the fate of his undercover operation relies on Bond being happy… Right!

“I could ask Franky to take care of Bond.”

“Yay, Uncle Scruffy to the rescue!” Then Anya freezes. “But, Papa, how are you gonna use the phone? You can’t stand up and use the phone at the same time!”

Dammit, she’s right… Well, partially, at least. He’s not that powerless, is he now?

“I assure you, Anya, I can maintain my balance on one foot and use the phone with my available hand.”

“That sounds dange’ous, Papa.”

Well, it’s not like he didn’t portray himself as a klutz no later than yesterday, he supposes.

“It’ll be fine.” She looks around for a moment, then walks to the phone. “What’re you doing, Anya?”

“I’m calling Uncle Scruffy!”

“What did I just—”

 Anya, ever the free soul, grabs a chair and, with every single fibre of strength in her tiny body, puts it next to the phone.

“Papa?”

He sighs as he grabs the crutches at the foot of the couch.

“How do you use a phone again?”

With an annoyance he can’t even bring himself to hide (he doubts Anya would be convinced he doesn’t hate having to rely on sticks to walk around anyway), he gets up, sighing. Walking on those things is more tiring than it should be allowed to be.

“Let me at least input the number before you try calling at random, Anya.”

 This is going to be a very tedious month, he can already tell – and it’s only been two days.

  If you put it in a certain way, this entire fiasco benefits Operation Strix. Sure, it’s at the detriment of every other mission WISE is on, which means it’s detrimental to the peace between East and West because he’s stuck on pretending to be a psychiatrist (driven to work by his wife, of all things) and paperwork duties; but it means he can decipher documentation that may’ve taken longer to getting understood and he can watch over Bond. After all, the dog is part of the family, so taking care of him and making sure he’s well-fed and happy is of primordial importance.

(Maybe less so than Anya’s grades or his cover as a psychiatrist with patients so violent one has to wonder how it’s even possible, but important nonetheless).

Anya seems happy that “Bond has a friend”, at least, and to be fair, at least, the dog doesn’t ask about if he should be moving around the place, unlike Anya and Yor and every single one of his fake and real workmates. Maybe, if he could talk, Bond would ask to; but as it stands, Twilight doesn’t speak dog and Bond doesn’t speak human, so it’s fine.

 In that way, it makes interacting in woofs a much better thing than constantly telling Yor that, no, he’s fine, just moving slowly compared to usual (and not having his hands free for most of it).

 Do crutches really make you look that much like an invalid? When he listens to her, Twilight can’t help but think he’s actually lost his damn leg when, no, Anya just keeps asking if she can draw on his cast –he keeps telling her no, but each time comes out with less strength than the previous one, it’s a war of attrition and the child is winning – and it’ll be fixed. He’s not even tried walking on the damn thing (from experience, it only works when you’ve got enough adrenaline to cover up most of the pain).

Since coming back home with that gunshot wound (which, he’ll admit, he did underestimate quite a lot), Yor has been more insistent than ever on handling any chore that isn’t cooking, insisting she must get the groceries and see Anya off every day to school, among a shopping list of things Twilight isn’t even sure they’ve actually done at (Loid Forger’s) home like dusting bedsheets outside.

Yor’s help at home, as excessive as it is at the moment, is good for Operation Strix: it makes their fake marriage seem this much more realistic to outsiders, as Yor is regularly seen shopping for groceries with or without Anya, while giving him more time to gather intel for other WISE agents. These past few days, he’s been able to crack about a dozen ciphers that had been bothering the agency, catch three secret correspondences between Ostalian pro-war factions and repair very exactly fifteen tears in Yor’s and Anya’s clothes.

This is less of a net negative than expected; Twilight’s sure of it.

 Still, he should set things straight with her again, and he has the perfect opportunity: Anya is sleeping at Becky Blackbell’s mansion today, which she referred to as “a mission for Papa’s peace” (she really must love spy cartoons), so it’s only Yor and him at home tonight. He was supposed to have a side-mission, but it got cancelled due to those same unforeseen circumstances that have been biting at him all week – and no matter how much he tried to insist, Handler refused to let him take care of it. Training to be able to conduct an operation while having one leg amputated really had no use, it seems.

Yor is also available, which is very convenient, in this case. They decided, like most of the time these days, to order something and eat it at home. To his misfortune, and almost as a bad omen, as soon as he goes to grab his crutches from the side of the couch, Yor picks him up like a glass statue of some kind and sits him to the table, going as far as to slide the other side to put his leg on another chair.

This really isn’t starting the right way.

 They both pick at their dish until, finally, he decides enough is enough. He won’t be dependant on human crutches, be it a young girl or a strong woman who can absolutely bench-press over twice his weight.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with doing everything around home, Yor,” he tells her in almost a clinical tone.

She, however, stares right back to him like it wasn’t obvious.

“But you’re…”

“Partially incapacitated, I know. I wish to assure you, this isn’t as cumbersome as it looks.”

She looks down, eyes fluttering and cheeks reddening.

“But, Loid… I’ve seen how frustrated it’s made you to… have to compose with this.”

“It’s nothing I can’t manage, I assure you.”

A heavy silence settles between the two of them, only broken by bites of food and sips of water. It’s a deeply uncomfortable one – which Twilight rationalizes as silence never being a good sign for spies. Something about calm itself being a sign a threat is hiding beneath the surface. Yes, something like this, not about how he seems to have let Yor down or made her feel uneasy… (Uncertainty is also a lethal enemy).

 In the end, she breaks the silence, fiddling with the hem of her red sweater (which matches her eyes oh so well – no time to think about that, Loid).

“I don’t mind, you know… In fact, I really like it! I’ve always liked helping people, I suppose, but it feels… different, when it’s you.” Her cheeks grow red as a poppy. “U-unless you really mind, of course! Then I can just let you be or wait until you really need something from me!”

Loid sighs. How is he supposed to say no to this, really? This is going against everything he’s ever learned, and yet he finds himself walking headfirst into it. Dangerous business, really. (The blur of mask and reality should worry him much more than that).

“I’d usually prefer handling myself, but if you say it doesn’t bother you, then I don’t think I can quite go against it.” He clears his throat to regain some seriousness. “Albeit, I don’t want it to be a burden on you. Think of yourself first.”

“Oh, of course! You’ll probably still have to at least help with dinner, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything else!”

She didn’t quite get what he meant, he’s pretty sure, but she’s got the spirit.

 Crutches really are a spy’s worst hurdle to overcome.

  There’s this one sentence that keeps getting on his nerves, no matter how he thinks about it.

Oh, no, let me take care of this for you!

And there’s this other sentence that triggers… something within him that he doesn’t quite get, but which doesn’t feel bad per say.

Oh, no, Loid, let me take care of this for you!

 …wait. They sound the same.

 Yor is nothing if not well-meaning (and a special brand of impossible not to stare at) but having to rely on her has felt horrible all week and he’s not sure of how much longer he can last with her insisting to do anything for him, from cooking to taking care of Anya, without forgetting driving him up to work (and that still stings). The feeling grows worse with each day passing too: like a poison, it sinks into every last cell it touches, no matter how unrelated, and it makes hard to focus on ciphers and intel gathering.

Loid Forger’s a lucky man, Twilight supposes, to have such a caring spouse ready to help him with so much for something as little as a broken leg and what it causes. Loid Forger, in fact, must absolutely relish in being able to take a break from violent patients and working graveyard shifts every single night of the week. Twilight? Not so much.

He thinks.

Maybe.

 Okay, truth be told, he needed the break from the late-night, about-to-get-shot-multiple-times missions. He had already thought about it even before getting shot in the femur, but this has only confirmed his need for a breather, no matter how short. This, of course, comes at the price of his peace of mind, because he shouldn’t be taking it easy while WISE is going through such an intense staff shortage, but it does come with the main perk of not wavering on his feet so frequently.

Relying on civilians still doesn’t sit right with him but considering he too can’t sit properly at the moment, it may sound hypocritical of him (who is he kidding? He’s always a hypocrite, it comes with being an undercover agent and like a second nature to him). Some part of him doesn’t even hate it, per say; being able to spend time with Anya and Yor, not having to manage everything, taking his time… It doesn’t sound so bad. It goes against everything he’s ever known, but it feels… maybe not quite right, but quite agreeable. Or, at least, less uncomfortable than anticipated.

He’s even sure letting Anya draw on the cast was a good thing for Operation Strix. It makes him look like a good family man, which he needs for the sake of the mission.

 This… might not just be about Operation Strix, though.

Just might.

[somedeepmystery]

It’s only the fifth of August! I’m not too late!

But seriously, where did July go? I feel like five minutes ago I was at the lake with my family watching fireworks and hoping none of the idiot men setting them off lost a finger.

I have thrown myself into another round of outlining The Book, current working title: This Time. Things are going well. This whole outlining thing is so new to me, but so is not operating purely on the drive of hyperfixation! I guess we’ll see if it works, and I end up finishing my first every original, novel length story! (Whoa!)

In other adventures, the fam and I went to LA to see Team Starkid’s Cinderella’s Castle, and it was so freaking fun. It has been so long — too fucking long — since I’ve seen a live play! (I’m using too many exclamations, but I promise I feel them all.)

It was a hit-and-run style trip that JUST HAPPENED to be scheduled for the day after Crowdstrike decided to fuck up all our lives. It got a little hairy, we swapped a flight for a straight shot — which can be hard to get where I am. You almost always have to go through Seattle, and I was like, “we will get stuck there.” (sure enough, our original connection in Seattle was canceled so—)

Switching the flight, moved our departure time up several hours, making the trip more stressful. The girls don’t fly often, and I was hectically managing all the liquids for flying carry-on only, but we got where we needed to be. I even got to squeeze in breakfast with a friend the morning of the show.

The show was so good — funny, naughty, exciting — sharing it with M and O made it even more amazing, and hubby — who knows nothing and has no experience with any of it — had such a good attitude about it, I fell in love all over again, but he also enjoyed himself.

Sir Hop-A-Lot was his favorite.

July was hot, hot and more hot, even where I am in Washington State. And I sadly have NOT been to the lake, which is a crime really. We’ve had multiple A/C issues - it’s fine until we pass 100F, then it just shuts off. We will try to change the temp we expect it to keep next time and see if that helps. I know some people don’t have A/C so, I need to be thankful I have it the rest of the time.

Now, it’s August and my current goal is to get through this outline one more time, making sure everything works and lines up, then — writer gods willing — I will start drafting (again.)

Random side note: Stop being afraid of the thesaurus. It can really help you find the word you are trying to remember, and isn’t going to turn you into a fanfic newbie writer who uses it to replace crutch words just by looking at it. Okay? I promise that it’s not just for finding 100$ words to replace the 5$ ones. Lol

(But you can do that too, and sometimes that is also actually okay. All words exist for a reason.)

So, it’s AUGUST, huh? Crazy!

I hope you all are doing well. I know the world is kind of A Lot right now, and I’m sending you my deep hope for the welfare and good health of you and yours.

Love, me

[jim-fetter-illustrations]

Smartphones are human beings first artificial intelligence.,... and now they own us!

Imagine life without a smartphone (cell phone).

Today, no one can imagine life without a smartphone. That’s because mobile technology has not only changed our world and our lives, but in some form we have become slaves to them.

I mean we see the anxiety which overcomes most people when the power goes out, even for a few minutes, and god forbid a day, 24 hours without one's cell phone and chaos would ensue.

When people forget to take their smartphone with them, it ruins their whole day, and we've seen this way too many times already,.........because every aspect of our lives depend on that little plastic gadget for everything we do these days........

We have this sense that we are losing contact with reality, resulting in panic when our smartphones aren't within a couple of feet from us.

When we’re not calling, texting, or even waiting for an important call, we are still gripping the phone tightly in our hand, almost like a crutch. Often, the phone absorbs so much of our focus and attention that we forget about others, we forget to connect with those around us - because we are staring at a screen in front of our face for most of our waking hours.

This brings us to an interesting question: Would you be able to survive a few hours, a day, a week - without a smartphone and the Internet?

These days, many people, especially young people, can't imagine life without a cell phone, or rather without a minicomputer with the Internet - because that's essentially what smartphones are today. Perhaps without smartphones they would not be able to do so many things! For instance, some individuals might think that it is not worth stopping to talk to a stranger, to ask for directions, since a smartphone comes with a GPS application. Why involve another person in our daily life struggles, when a mini computer can assist us in finding our way.

Isn't that what artificial intelligence is,...... a computer system able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition and decision-making?!?!

It's like having a super-brain in a box you just confide in for everything.

If you’re like me, you might remember the world before mobile phones and the Internet? It's hard to believe that people didn't always have phones in their pockets. That's why pay phones were so important. And even before that, there were telephone operators who would facilitate long-distance and international calls.

These days, it is not uncommon to see the whole family looking at their smartphones instead of talking to each other. Often even at the Christmas dinner table.

Smartphones allow us to communicate quickly and effectively with anyone, anywhere in the world, in a way, it also takes away our ability to have a meaningful conversation. The type of conversation with eye contact and body language. The smartphone is present everywhere, and momentarily turning it off or leaving it at home can feel like part of us is missing?????

Lets face it, smartphones have become an addiction for many people, the blue light emitted by screens can interfere with our natural sleep patterns, making it harder to fall asleep and stay asleep. Additionally, constantly checking our phones before bedtime can cause anxiety and make it even more difficult to wind down. Using your smartphone as an alarm clock can also be problematic, as the temptation to check notifications and social media can make it harder to fall back asleep after being woken up.

Many people reading this post know exactly what I'm talking about.

How many people can actually endure a few days of a "digital detox," and live their life without a smartphone, social media or convenience apps?

Not many.

I use my cell phone (don't have a smartphone) the same way I used a landline phone, to make and receive calls, nothing else, don't go online with it at all, do texts with it rarely, I use it just like a landline and often leave it at home when I go grocery shopping or just out. I don't see it as a help, but more of a bothersome hindrance to have to take care of while it's in my pocket, as I don't want it to fall out and break as they usually do. I often go days without using my cell phone.

But that's just me I guess, and when the world ends I'll probably be the last to hear about it, which will give me more time to spend with my Cat,...... Lol

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[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 194

Achilles Castle part 96

Lemonade and lies Part 39

Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek undercover part 3

Kate Beckett: pov Once in the hospital my friend Lanie who is a medical examiner continued CPR on me till another Dr took over for her the rest of the way to the trauma/operating room i was rushed into. My boyfriend at the time Josh who is a cardiac surgeon  happened to be on shift and started the emergency heart surgery. I had a collapsed lung that required a chest tube. In emergency cases like mine they do a thoracotomy. It's a massive sideways incision on your side from your back to chest.

Kirk sanders: pov Wow that sounds like a huge incision.  

Castle: pov oh it is. Kate continues on with her story they also use the rib spreaders for this surgery. Kirk says it sounds painful. He asks if it's to spread your ribs so they can have more space to work. Kate replies with yes.

Kate: pov The bullet hit/grazed my inferior pulmonary vein and left ventricle causing a cardiac tampon my surgeon Dr Kovaks who replaced Josh had to cut some of my pericardium to let the blood out and repair my ventricle, I then went into vfib and they had to use the internal paddles twice, they tried to do manual heart massages but i  went into cardiac arrest again and flatlined. They eventually got me back, I spent a week in the CICU unconscious. 

Sophia: pov Kirk says that is one hell of a story, I can't believe you survived that. Kate says I can't even believe I survived, since my trauma was so severe. She also brings up the fact that she has PTSD and a weakened immune system. Our food finally arrives, and it looks amazing. KIrk is curious about some of her  past cases. 

Castle: pov I ordered the BBQ wings with French fries and Mac and cheese. Kate ordered the wings plain which they grilled for her with french fries and a salad. Sophia and Kirk ordered the spicy wings and Buffalo ones with fried onion rings, fried pickles and French fries. Kate mentions that Sophia and Kirk can drink all they want because she is the designated driver because she can't drink.

Kirk sanders: pov what was a weird case you hand, Kate says let's see I have had a few. I was handcuffed together with Castle in a basement with a tiger. I had a cryogenic case where the guy was murdered by his wife because he had a brain tumor and his friend then stole his head. I had a guy who was dressed as Santa who was murdered and fell out of a helicopter. I had the witness who turned out to be the murderer, the guy who worked in the subway that was murdered because he stumbled onto a kidnapping. The dirty bomb case. Me standing on a bomb. The psychic who predicted her own murder, the weird thing about that case was her daughter told me that. At an important date,  Alexander would save my life. Strange thing is it's Castle birth name, Richard Alexander Roger's. 

Castle: pov Kate goes into more details about these cases and some of her other ones. Sophia Is updating Kate on her life. Me and Kirk are talking about video games. He is telling me something about the Hudson River, you know Kate almost drowned in the Hudson River. We were working a case with the CIA and her car went into the Hudson and her seat belt was stuck and I had to shoot at it to free her. I had to do mouth to mouth until she started breathing, she then proceeded to throw up everywhere once she was checked out by the medics and given some  heart meds, Kate convinced them to not take her to the hospital which they recommend because of her medical history. She was stubborn back then still is. 

Kate: pov it's getting late and I have a murder to solve. The 4 of us part ways with plans to hang out again. I’m so tired once home I change into some pj's and brush my teeth before getting into bed, plug my phone in before i fall asleep. Castle is in his office getting some writing done. 

Castle: pov i save my document on the computer then grab my crutches and head to bed Kate is already asleep. In the morning I wake up early and get ready for the day. I quickly shower and start on breakfast which is oatmeal with fruit. I can hear Kate in the shower, after she is dressed and has taken her medication she starts eating her breakfast. Mother is taking me to physical therapy today since she is free and Kate has to work since she got a murder yesterday. I kiss her goodbye and hand Kate her decaf coffee before she heads off to work. I also made one for Nick, the officer she is working with today. 

Esposito: pov Kate has a meeting with the guy from the drug unit before her and Nick from the gang unit meet with this other guy. I'm in charge until she gets back. I’m waiting for Lanie to get back to me about the autopsy 

Officer Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek: pov Kate is waiting for me with 2 take out coffee cups in her hand. She says Castle made it, and one Is for you. Which one is it? She points it out saying hers is decaf. 

Captain Ellison: pov thank you both for meeting with me. I wanted to go over some things before your meeting. My guy was under for awhile. He was injured some time yesterday. From the info I have I  think your killer might have injured him. I don't have a lot of details to go on. 

Kate: pov we go over some details of the case. The Captain from the drug unit says be prepared  you might have to go undercover. Our meeting isn't until later, we decided to head back to my office to get some work done, until then. I think we should pack some bags just in case we have to go undercover. To be continued.  ……….