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wildlydeliciouspainter · 4 years ago

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- III - The tower

*Hi! I hope you guys like the story so far. I’m thinking up each chapter as I go, and mainly use this as a way to improve my writing skills while typing about the things I could see happening in Stardew. If you have any feedback or suggestions for the storyline feel free to message me. Enjoy!*

“Here, this is for the journey.” Daya puts a small package into Elliotts hands. “Its your lunch, and a book for the road.” The brown wrapping is held together with a string which has a duck feather attached to it. Elliotts face lights up instantly when he notices it. “My favorite.” He wispers. “Thank you dear.” He softly plants a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll let you know when I get to Zuzu city, okay?” She nodds and smiles. Her eyes wander off to the tunnel leading the tracks farther into the mountains. Way down in the south, lies the big city where Elliotts booktour will take place. Zuzu city, a modern place with skyscrapers and highways. Daya saw its skyline once before when she went on a roadtrip with Robins son Sebastian. Thinking back on that memory is filling Daya with unease.

Sebastian, her relationship with him could be called complicated. After they broke up he moved to the city taking with him one bag of clothes, his laptop and his motor cycle. She still though of him now and then and wondered how he was doing, but never felt comfortable enough to reach out. With the way things ended that was probably for the best, she though. The sound of the approaching train suddenly echoes through the tunnel and brings Daya back to the present. “I love you, stay safe.” Elliott says and cuddles her. His long red hair tickles her face. “Love you too, return to me in winter.” She wispers into his hair. “I will.”

Daya waits till the train leaves to continues its journey through the mountain pass. When the last wagon has disappeared into the tunnel she turns around and starts walking back. Something moves her to take a different road than usual. Instead of walking home via the mountain road she takes the detour trough Cindersap forest.

The air in the woods is crisp, and dead leaves roll over the forest floor around her. A vague sound in the distance catches her attention. Mysterious music that can only come from one place. The wizards tower. There was a time when she ran a lot of errands for the wizard and his practices in the dark art, but ever since she moved in with Elliott her life shifted from the forest to the shore. Paying her old friend a visit couldn’t hurt though. She follows the sound, and suddenly sees the blue roof of Rasmodius home towering over the trees in front of her.

The door to the building is closed, so she knocks. “Hello?” The wizard is always close to the tower and as expected the door slowly opens, creaking in its hinges. A sweet smell of herbs and incense wafts out of the hallway to greet Daya and the old door mysteriously closes behind her, though no one is standing near it. “Welcome.” Says the wizard, in his deep, calm voice. He is sitting in a purple chair next to the cauldron. From the big black kettle green fumes circle towards the ceiling. “Hi Rasmodius. I went for a walk in the forest and thought I’d stop by.” “Ah, is that so?” He says, his voice seemingly insinuating something different to be the case. “Yes.” Daya replied. “Tea?” “Yes please.” On the coffee table stands a bronze teapot filled with fragrant leaves. Its fresh, as if company was expected. Rasmodius pours two cups and hands one to his guest. The second cup stays on the table untouched. Daya’s eyes follow the intricate carvings on the table that show the cycle of the moon and its many forms. She sips from her tea as Rasmodius talks to her. “I was hoping you would stop by today.” He says, his eyes fixated on the cup in front of him. “I have a guest that was hoping to see you, so I might have used a bit of magic to lure you here.” He presses his fingers together and stands up. At the same moment there is a sudden movement at the fireplace, as a dark figure steps out of its shadow. Daya almost drops the tea cup in her lap. But manages to catch it on time so only a small amount of its content spills over her finger. “Damn it!” She growls, and puts her burned fingers into her mouth. Dark sweater and hair he disappeared into the wizards gloomy interior but when he turns towards her its unmistakable “Seb?”Daya’s cheeks immediately turn red as she realizes she is still using his petname. In an attempt to rectify her mistake she coughs and adds an unsure “astian.. sebastian, hi.” Rasmodius stands up awkwardly and points Sebastian to the chair he first sat in. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” He mutters and pats Sebastian on his back. Then flicks his fingers and disappears into thin air. “Oh!” Daya’s eyes widen but this time she holds her teacup in a firm grip as not to spill more tea in surprise. “I hate it when he does that, it catches me off guard every time.” Sebastian smiles slowly. His eyes are fixed on the teacup the wizard left for him, an impenetrable expression in his eyes.

She didnt miss this part of him, the silent stares and her guessing whats going on inside. “How, eh.. how are you Sebastian?” “Could be better.” He smiles wryly and picks up the cup in front of him. “You?” “I am very happy.” She thinks of her life with Elliott and instantly a smile appears. “Happy to hear that. Say Daya, I’m sorry to barge back into your life like this, but do you still have your sword?” At the word sword she has to put down her cup because her fingers start to tingle. She can feel the heft of the purple blade in her hands even though its not there. Sebastian looks at her moving fingers and frowns barely noticeable. “Yes, I still have it.” She wispers, her thoughts miles away from the tower. “Could I borrow it?” “Why?” For the first time in the conversation he looks straight at her. His light brown eyes catch her off guard and she repressed the impuls to tell him he can take the weapon as long as he leaves now. His eyes leave her face to search the room. When he is sure no one is lurking in the shadows of the furniture around them he leans towards her to plead his case. “Its for Abigail. She got abducted from the mines on one of her adventures. I didn’t know untill I got a weird email that seemed to be encrypted. After I send it to Rasmodius he figured out it was send by the dwarf in the mines, warning me she was taken. This was only this morning. I came back from Zuzu as fast as I could.” “Are the two of you..” Sebastians eyebrows raise. “Friends, good friends.” Daya nodds. “Just so I know how delicate the situation is.” “Okay, will you help?” “Eh I want to but I’m not sure I can.” She can see his eyes darken while she struggles to find the right words.

“You see, the prismatic shard I used to forge the sword in Calico, its infused with my energy. Even linked to my energy I had to find a way to learn how to handle it. Its almost like handling an animal, learning its body language and finding a way to work together. Its a bond that I’m not sure will be translated well to another.” She though back of an instant where Elliot picked up the sword. Holding it alone almost made him sprain his own wrists. The disbalance between him and the iridium made it uncontrollable. As soon as she took it in her own hands the purple metal calmed. Sebastian wouldn’t be able to handle the sword and without Daya’s link to it the weapon would turn into a crude waraxe with no regard for the person who yielded it. “Have you considered the adventurers guild? For their members they have some fine weapons, I’m sure a lava katana would do the job just fine.” Sebastian stands up, looking down on her with irritation written al over his face. “You know the galaxy sword is way more powerful than that. I expected a bit more from the women who fought serpents and shadow brutes alike. But I should have know, your feathers and fruit loving poet has made you soft.” Daya shoots up, almost matching Sebastian in height. “Listen to me very carefully.” She hisses. “No one took my bravery away. I chose love over a life of danger, but I can still fight. And if you want us to find Abigail you should try to work with me instead of pissing me off.” “Us?” “Yes us, we’ll get you a weapon and I”ll have your back for Abigails sake. But keep the attitude to yourself please.” His eyes darken but at the same time there is that slow smile again. “I’m sorry, your help is more than welcome.” “Thank you.”

They set up a practice for the next morning, and as they both leave the wizard tower and walk into a different direction they are both wondering about the adventure thats ahead of them.

#stardew valley #fanfic #stardew elliott #stardew sebastian #fantasy

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atomic-taco-muffin · 4 years ago

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The Lost Princess Chapter 19

Warnings: fluff/angst

Rating: SFW

(I’m crying at this!😂)

Sora and the others left Atlantica and headed back to the gummi ship and flew around the worlds.

“I think my magic is as good as Donald’s now. Maybe it’ll be stronger than (Y/N)’s,” Sora said.

“No way! Not in a million years,” Donald said.

“Why don’t you go see Merlin? Work more on your magic,” Goofy said. They traveled to Merlin’s Study and spoke to him after training with him a bit.

“You’re making excellent progress. Here’s something for your effort,” Merlin said as he gave Sora a keychain.

“Keep it up,” he said. Sora decided to return to the 100 Acre Wood with another torn page. He entered, finding a swing hanging from a stout tree near a river. He saw Pooh and Piglet on the bridge overlooking the river.

“Look, Pooh. Something is floating this way,” Piglet said.

“I think you’re right, Piglet. What could it be?” Pooh said. A gray donkey floated slowly along the current of the river, a glum expression on its face.

“Why, it looks like Eeyore! Hello, Eeyore, if it is you,” Pooh said as he waved while Eeyore floated towards them.

“Hello, Pooh. Yes, it’s me. Could you pull me out? That is, if it’s not too much trouble. Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Eeyore said. He drifted under the bridge and Sora jumped in to get him. They met on the riverbank with Pooh and Piglet.

“Thank you, Pooh. Thank you, other you. You know, floating along out there, it seemed like something was missing...” Eeyore said. Suddenly, Piglet and behind Eeyore.

“And something’s still missing,” Eeyore said.

“Why, Eeyore’s tail is gone! Is that what’s missing?” Piglet said. Eeyore looked behind him and saw that he had no tail.

“Let’s see... Yep, lost it again. Wonder where it went this time. It’s not much of a tail, though I’m sort of attached to it. But I don’t know why anybody’d look for it. Probably won’t find it anyway...” he said.

“Sora, why don’t we all look for Eeyore’s tail?” Pooh asked.

“Lost something?” Owl asked as he flew in from above.

“Searching from a high place is the quickest way to find it!” he said.

“Owl, can you fly up high and help us find Eeyore’s tail?” Sora asked.

“Sorry, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be. Too much reading, you know. But I can offer good advice! Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. See that swing up there? Take Pooh there.” He motioned toward the tree at the top of a hill.

“You’re a bit too big for the swing, but Pooh should fit nicely. I’ll tell you more when you get there,” he said as he flies away. Sora lead Pooh up the hill to the swing, where Owl was perched on the branch above them. Pooh got on the swing.

“Here’s what to do. First, get ready to push,” Owl said.

“How?” Sora asked.

“Like this.” Owl demonstrated how to push the swing.

“Like this?“ Sora asked as he pushed the swing gently.

“Not bad, not bad! Here’s the next step. If you time it right, Pooh will swing higher and higher. Try it! Push too soon, Pooh won’t go any higher. Push too late, he’ll go too high,” Owl said. With Owl’s help, Sora pushed Pooh on the swing, tossing him into the air so he can search for Eeyore’s tail from high above. He landed right in front of Rabbit on a house made of sticks, knocking Eeyore over. Pooh stood up and Eeyore saw something under the pile of sticks

“Hm? That looks familiar...” he said. Sora helped repin Eeyore’s tail onto him.

“How’s it looking?” Pooh asked.

“There we go,” Sora said. Eeyore swung his tail around.

“It’s not much of a tail, but it’s mine. Thanks, everyone,” he said.

“I wish we could put the Hundred Acre Wood back the way it was, too!” Pooh said. Owl sat on the branch of the tree, waving a wing. Pooh’s words made Sora more determined to find the rest of the book’s torn pages. Sora left the hill and found Pooh at his house, sitting on a log outside.

“Brrr! I think I spend too much time on the swing,” he said as he shivered. Sora targeted the pile of sticks in front of them and ignited them into a small fire and Pooh extended his hands to warm them.

“Thank you, Sora. This is nice and warm. You’ve helped us so much. This is just something to say thank you,” he said. Pooh hopped off the log and gave Sora a Mythril stone.

Sora left the 100 Acre Wood and the three traveled to a dark world filled with pumpkins and ghosts. Donald changed their outfits so they blended in with the eerie scenery.

“This sure is a spooky place. I’ll bet the people here are scary- lookin’ too,” Goofy said.

“Don’t worry. We look spooky, too. If they scare us, we’ll scare them right back!” Donald said.

“You think so?” They entered the Town Square and an explosion went off in a nearby laboratory, sending smoke into the air. They saw a group of Search Ghost Heartless in town, but they don’t attacked. Sora made his way over to the laboratory when they heard a booming voice.

“And now, allow me to introduce...” someone said. They looked over to see a short man in an extremely tall hat speaking through a megaphone. He wore a spider as a bow tie and a ribbon reading “Mayor” was attached to his business suit. From their angle, it looked like he had a second face behind his head.

“The master of terror... the king of nightmares—Jack Skellington!” the Mayor said. The line of Search Ghosts parted as they presented the fountain in the middle of the square, where a tall, thin figure was emerging from the green water. He had a black and white striped outfit and long bony fingers. His head was naught but a skull; behind his eyes, only blackness. He striked a pose and smiled, and the Mayor ran over to him.

“Bravo, Jack! Bravo! Those ghosts will be a big hit at this year’s Halloween!” the Mayor said. The Mayor grinned wildly as Jack stepped out from the fountain.

“Thank you, thank you! But their movement still needs work. It’s not scary enough,” Jack said. He hung his head.

“I want to strike bone-chilling terror,” he said. He lifted his arms in a creepy pose, and the Mayor backed up.

“I’m going to consult the doctor,” Jack said. He stood up and walked to the laboratory.

“Then I’ll go attend to the decorations,” Mayor said. He ran away gleefully. So gleefully, in fact, that he ran in the wrong direction and has to turn around. Sora, Donald, and Goofy followed Jack to Doctor Finkelstein’s research lab, where the doctor was inspecting the Heartless on the examination table from the comfort of his wheelchair. The various machines on the walls gurgled and hissed.

“I don’t understand. Maybe the guidance system was damaged in the explosion,” Jack said.

“Nonsense. My devices are always perfect!” Finkelstein said. Jack searched through the doctor’s research book.

“Oh, I’ve got it! Why, of course! The Heartless need a heart! Doctor, do you think we can add a heart to that device?” he said.

“Certainly. A heart’s not all that complicated,” Finkelstein said. He rode his motorized wheelchair to the end of the table.

“Let’s get to work,” he said.

“To make a heart, first take a container with a lock...” Jack read. The doctor pulled out a pulsing box shaped like a human heart with a large keyhole on it

“We need the key to this thing first!” Finkelstein said.

“You’re really gonna unlock it for them?” Donald asked.

“Why not? If they succeed, we won’t have to fight the Heartless, right? Besides, I want to see the Heartless dance, too. Don’t you?” Sora asked.

“Not really.” Sora unlocked the heart for them.

“My! That was amazing! Uh, and you are...” Jack said. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sora.” Jack walked up to him.

“Well done, Sora! I’d like you to be a part of this year’s Halloween,” Jack said.

“What’s this Heartless doing here?” Sora asked.

“Oh, the Heartless came to town just recently. What’s frustrating is I can’t get them to dance with me. So the doctor and I are trying to improve the guidance system. He’s quite a genius! Okay, Doctor, let’s continue. The ingredients for a heart: Pulse.” A pulsing frog was placed on the table.

“Emotion,” Jack said.

“Terror,” Finkelstein said.

“Fear.” The doctor’s hand slid off a pane of glass on the table, making an eerie screech.

“Hope and despair,” Jack said. Two snakes, with their mouths over each other’s tails, were placed on the table and they glanced at one another.

“Mix them all together, and we have a heart!” Jack said. The doctor completed this and placed the heart into the console of the machine. He wheeled over to a large lever and initiated the experiment. The machine sparked to life, gears clicking and whirling. Electricity crackled over the Heartless, who suddenly sat up with its arms outstretched, before falling limp.

“It failed!” Finkelstein said. Jack looked disappointed and the doctor peered over his research book.

“Maybe we’re missing some ingredients. Let’s try adding memory,” Finkelstein said. The doctor opened his skullcap and literally scratched his brain.

“Sally! Sally! Good-for-nothing girl! Don’t know why I bothered creating her!” he said. He slammed his fists on the arms of his wheelchair and closed his skull. He whirled around to face Sora and his friends.

“Sally’s got the memory we need. See if you can track her down,” he said.

“No problem. Sora, would you like to come along?” Jack said.

“Sure,” Sora said. They left the laboratory and saw the Mayor at the bottom of the stairs, his unhappy face on.

“Jack! Jack! We have a major crisis! The Heartless are completely out of control! We can’t stop them!” Mayor yelled into his microphone.

“Hmm... Maybe our experiment triggered something. Everything will be fine, Mayor. You have nothing to worry about,” Jack said. Donald tapped his foot, looking in Jack’s direction. They entered Guillotine Plaza and fought a group of Heartless before entering the Graveyard.

“Let’s check this place, too, once the Heartless here are out of our way,” Sora said. They defeated the Heartless in the Graveyard and a ghostly dog with a glowing pumpkin for a nose, rose out of his doghouse grave and Jack walked up to him.

“Zero! Have you seen Sally anywhere?” he said. Zero flew over to a gravestone, startling the person behind it. A rag doll with long hair stood up and looked over at them, the stitches covering her body clearly visible.

“Is something wrong, Jack?” she asked.

“No, everything’s going great. We’re going to have the best Halloween ever. All we need now is your memory,” Jack said, excitedly.

“‘Memory?’ You mean this?” She pulled out a gnarled flower. She gave the Forget-Me-Not to Jack, who stared at it curiously.

“Jack, I have a bad feeling about this. Why don’t you try something else? There’s still time,” Sally said.

“Nothing could beat what I’ve got planned!” Jack said as he spun around to face her.

“Once we give the Heartless a heart, they’ll dance just as I envision it,” he said but Sally looked worried.

“Trust me. You’re going to love it!” he said. Sora started talking to Sally.

“I have a bad feeling about this. If only Jack would reconsider... I’m happy if he’s happy, but I’m just so worried about him. I’m worried about him because I...well, I just am. Jack, why not have these kids star in the festival instead? They both look rather frightful. And funny, too. They’d be better than the Heartless,” Sally said. Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Jack left the Graveyard, with Sally following. From a coffin near the end of the graveyard, laughter erupted before the lid flew open. Three little imps jumped out dressed like a devil, witch, and skeleton, respectively. They wore masks on their faces because they liked it.

“Lock!”

“Shock!”

“Barrel!” The little imps huddled together.

“Did you hear that?” Barrel asked.

“Yeah, I sure did! A heart! What should we do?” Lock said.

“Gosh, you really are stupid! Isn’t it obvious?” Shock said.

“Tell Oogie Boogie,” Barrel said and the of them laughed. Sora and company returned to Dr. Finkelstein’s Lab and gave him the “memory”.

“Yes. This is it. Now, just one more ingredient. We need “surprise” to complete the heart. The mayor should know where it is,” Finkelstein said. Meanwhile, Lock, Shock, and Barrel were trembling in the presence of a laughing monster named Oogie Boogie. He had the appearance of a burlap sack tied together with thread. Two holes for the eyes curved evilly, giving him a nightmarish look. His hands and feet ended in points, rather than fingers, and an opening in the cloth was stitched together for the mouth.

“A heart? That bonehead Jack is really making a heart? I’ll be jiggered! That works for me!” he smiled.

“Ohh, when I get my hands on that...” He looked at his pointed extremities.

“Well, I’ve got no hands, but I’m still gonna nab that heart and control the Heartless,” he cackled powerfully. Sora, Donald, Goofy and Jack found the Mayor in the Boneyard near a giant pumpkin and talked to him.

“Ghost rise from those tombstones. Check the tombstones in the order the ghosts appear. If you get it wrong, you’re in for a surprise!” Mayor said. He pointed to a nearby group of gravestones, where they saw three ghosts rising from various ones and vanishing. They picked the correct ones and there was an explosion behind them.

“Splendid! Now go look at the pumpkin,” Mayor said. They turned around to see the pumpkin destroyed with a treasure chest inside. They opened it and took out a Jack-in-the-Box. They returned to Dr. Finkelstein’s Lab and gave him the Jack-in-the-Box.

“Yes. This is it,” he said. The doctor assembled the ingredients into the heart.

“There you go. This time it’s sure to work,” he said. He wheeled over with the heart on his lap, when Barrel jumped out from under his research table, tripping him over.

“Ya!” Barrel said. Finkelstein yelled as he fell out of his chair, causing the heart to bounce over the table and into Lock’s arms. The doctor growled, shaking a gloved fist at them. Lock snickered and the three escaped.

“The nerve of those little hooligans, stealing my work!” Finkelstein said. Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Jack raced after the trio to Guillotine Square.

“We lost them!” Sora said. Jack tapped a hand on his leg, calling Zero over to him.

“Zero, after them, quick!” he said. Zero flew towards the Graveyard to Moonlight Hill, where a large curled hill unfurled, making a pathway to a bridge. Lock, Shock, and Barrel rode in a walking bathtub over the hill. Sora and company arrived and defeated the Heartless in the area. They found a hidden switch in a gravestone, which unfurled the hill for them and they walked across to the bridge to Oogie’s Manor, where the bathtub was approaching a wooden bridge. Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Jack ran in.

“I knew Oogie Boogie was behind this!” Jack said. They stared up towards the twisted mansion. They made their way up the mansion, fighting Heartless until they found the topmost room. They entered the Evil Playroom to find Lock, Shock, and Barrel tossing the heart down a shaft. They whirled around when they entered. Sora and company subdued the three imps and forced them to talk.

“We were just following orders! Oogie Boogie told us to steal the heart. It’s all Barrels fault! It was his idea to tell Oogie Boogie about the heart,” Shock said.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Lock said.

“B-But you guys said—” Barrel said.

“You should be ashamed!” Shock said.

“Oogie Boogie made us do it. We had no choice,” Lock said.

“Oogie Boogie told us not to give away his hiding place. Oh, and we’re not supposed to talk about the lever, either,” Barrel said. Sora activated a lever on a control panel and geared in the wall begin to spin.

“What’s he going to do with the heart? Beats me. I’d stay away from Oogie Boogie if I were you,” Barrel said.

“Hey, I was just following Oogie Boogie’s orders! We don’t have the heart! Oogie Boogie has it!” Shock said.

“There’s no way I’m gonna take you to him! If I did that, Oogie Boogie would eat us too,” Lock said.

“You’ll never find the green door!” They made their way down to Oogie’s Torture Chamber, which looked like a giant roulette wheel. They ran in and found Oogie Boogie with the heart.

“Oogie Boogie, give me back the heart!” Jack said.

“You want it? Well, then come on over and get it!” Oogie Boogie said. He put the heart in his mouth and swallowed it to everyone’s surprise. He began cackling.

“Now, let’s see if I can get their attention. Oh, Heartless!” he said. Two Gargoyle Heartless appeared behind him.

“This is it?” he asked as he started to get angry.

“Nobody disrespects me! Nobody!” he yelled. He pulled a switch causing an explosion from behind Sora and company, knocking them into the pit of the roulette wheel. The Heartless flew down and attacked them, but they were quickly defeated.

“C’mon, baby!” Oogie said. Him, being a gambling man, threw exploding dice into the pit, but they dodged out of the way. Sora activated a switch that raised his section of the pit, allowing him access to the boogeyman. Sora held a hand to his chest and raised his Keyblade, which lit up and a bubble dropped down from above. The bubble popped, revealing a young elephant with enormous ears. Sora jumped onto Dumbo, grabbing onto the elephant’s hat. Dumbo flew into the air with his huge ears and sprayed a torrent of water at Oogie Boogie. Once the boogeyman had enough of this, he activated an explosion. Dumbo disappeared and Sora was sent back into the pit. Donald attempted to strike Oogie from below with Thunder and Gravity spells.

“This would be a lot easier if (Y/N) was here,” Donald said.

“Agreed,” Sora said.

“Buzzsaw!” Oogie said. A spinning saw blade whirled past Sora, nearly slicing him in half. The roulette wheel began spinning around, sending Sora, Donald, and Goofy in front of three slot machines.

“Bone Soldiers!” Oogie said. The eyes of the slot machines glowed and they raised their pistols, shooting at the three of them. They jumped out of the way onto another button that sent all four of them upward to face Oogie. They attacked Oogie Boogie with everything they had, causing the villain’s burlap sack to open and a swarm of squirming bugs to fall all over the floor. Oogie Boogie screamed before the sack fell motionless with the heart still inside as a final blue bug crawled out of it. It landed on its back, squirming on the floor of the pit.

“So, that heart was a failure after all,” Jack said. They left Oogie’s Manor, crossing the wooden bridge back to the ridge they entered from, when a large explosion occurred behind them, sending everyone off balance.

“Huh?” Jack asked. Dust billowed out from the mansion and they heard Oogie Boogie moaning. When the dust settled, they saw his body overtaking the house, covered in orb of darkness.

“Whoa! How did he get so big?” Sora said.

“Look! It’s brimming with the power of darkness! Oogie Boogie is drawing power from those dark globs!” Jack said.

“So we just have to destroy those things, right?” The four jumped down as the bridge was now destroyed and made their way up the living mansion, destroying the dark orbs in their path. After the final one was taken out, the mansion quaked and crumbled to the ground. In its place a giant Keyhole appeared. Sora sent a beam of light into the air, which broke up and fell on the Keyhole, locking it. They returned to Dr. Finkelstein’s Lab, where Sally was waiting for them.

“Sally, why didn’t I listen to you?” Jack asked.

“Don’t feel bad, Jack. We’ll come up with another plan for Halloween. Next time, we’ll do it together,” Sally said. They held hands and stared into each other’s eyes. Sora, Donald, and Goofy then spoke to Jack.

“I guess we have no choice. We’ll have to cancel the Heartless Halloween festival for now. Here, I want you to have this,” Jack said. He then gives Sora a keychain.

“Visit us any time, Sora. Next year’s Halloween will be the scariest ever!” he said. The doctor was rereading his research book, thinking out loud.

“Emotion, memory... We put in all the necessary ingredients. What else do you need to make a heart? What is a heart, anyway? I can’t figure it out,” he said.

~~~~

You were sitting in front of the door, having more of your power radiating off of you while having your arms tied up like a puppet.

“How much longer till we’re ready?” Maleficent asked.

“Almost,” Riku said.

“Excellent.” She then walked away leaving Riku alone with you. He walked up to you and cupped your cheek.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, weakly.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said. You started to cry and Riku wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon,” he said. He stood up and walked away, leaving you by yourself.

“Sora...please help me,” you said.

To be continued...

#kingdom hearts #kingdomhearts #kingdom hearts imagine #kingdom hearts x reader #kingdomhearts imagines #kingdomhearts x reader #kingdomhearts+imagines #kingdomhearts+x+reader #kingdom+hearts+x+reader #kingdom+hearts+imagines

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fallenfurther · 4 years ago

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A drop into silence - Part 4

The final part and I hope you like how it ends. @gumnut-logic‘s sensory sunday challenge complete. Now to try and get some of my other WIPs finished, like the ones for her FabFiveFeb challenge. Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3. Enjoy.

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Scott sat waiting for the local anaesthetic to kick in, not that he needed it. He couldn't feel anything anyway, but they had to follow procedure. The nervous tension twisted Scott's stomach making him glad he hadn't eaten that morning. It'd taken three and a half weeks to get the paperwork completed, submitted, and approved. He'd been allowed to be an exception on the trial. It'd all gone through yesterday and having consented to having his cells harvested in hopeful preparation, the stem cells required for the treatment were ready to go. The sooner the better they'd said, well this was the quickest turn around they'd had. Scott was certain his name helped. Now he was lying on the operating table, arm extended and secured in a special metal cage, waiting for the first treatment to start. The anaesthesiologist smiled at him, his eyes a soft gentle brown which reminded him of Virgil.

"If you could turn your head so we can see if you can feel anything."

Scott did as he was told, confirming no, he couldn't feel it every time he was asked.

"All good then, all set to proceed."

Scott turned again to watch the anaesthesiologist get up and stand to the side of the room and Dr LaGrouse take his place. Dr LaGrouse was the one who was trained to do the procedure, though other doctors were watching and being trained.

"Okay Scott, as you know we've mapped your arm and identified places where there is damage. I'm going to use the computer to target those places precisely."

Scott nodded, already aware of the ins and outs. A tray containing a row of syringes containing his stem cells was wheeled beside his doctor. Scott took a deep breath and watched as each was inserted in turn. He wanted to see. There was no pain at any point. When all had been inserted, he was left with an arm covered in small dressings. He was the taken to a side room to recover. It was a formality, they had to let the anaesthetic wear off. A few hours later, his arm was dressed and placed in a sling and Virgil was flying him home. Grandma knew his aftercare instructions and he was aware of the immense physiotherapy involved. He could only hope it was worth it.

*****

The tingling sensation that occurred as Virgil manipulated his arm was a good sign. It was a bazaar feeling but with the second treatment tomorrow, Scott was starting to feel positive for the first time in a while. Virgil's grasp on his skin was firm but light and was the most welcome feeling in the world to Scott. The first time he had felt something he had been alone. Once he'd confirmed it to himself, he'd cried. That sensation was now getting stronger and although the limb was still limp, Scott could feel where it was. He felt it hit the table and tap his side with every step he took. When Scott went for his morning run the wind set off his nerves, reminding him that the arm was there. Scott was learning the value of touch.

"Okay Scott, I needed you to try and bend your elbow for me."

His brother held his arm at an almost right angle, Scott's forearm sitting lightly in Virgil's palm. Scott focused on the muscles he needed to move, thought as hard as he could, sending the thoughts down to the appendage. Nothing happened. Not even a twitch. Virgil’s hand moved to gently cup his wrist.

"Can you move your wrist?"

Again, Scott concentrated. Forcing the thoughts down towards the joint. He released the breath he'd been holding with a sigh. Still no movement.

"Now the fingers."

Scott tried to clench his hand, tried to make a fist. He wanted to close his hand. His eyes closed in effort only for him to let go, releasing the air from his lungs.

"Scott, do that again, but keep your eyes open and on your hand, okay?"

Scott did as he was told, commanding the hand as he stared at it, fighting the urge to close his eyes in concentration. A wiggle. Just a twitch in his third and fourth finger. His heart jumped. Was he seeing things? Trying again, his fingers quivered. Just a little.

"They...they moved."

Virgil's brown eyes met his. The grin on Virgil's face lit up his eyes, which Scott swore were looking a little watery.

"They sure did."

Virgil was grinning ear to ear, and Scott's own eyes started to water. He knew it was small, but it meant so much more. Signals could reach his fingers. The treatment was working. Virgil pulled him into a hug, which Scott returned with his strong arm, heart jumping at the idea that he might just be able to reciprocate with both soon.

*****

The research team was ecstatic with his progress. They had given him four treatments in the end. Another harvest would be required if he wanted more, however they didn’t believe it was required. Scott had full feeling back in his arm and basic movement. His grasp was firm enough to hold a glass of water and he was starting to improve his fine motor skills. He could just about feed himself with a spoon in his left hand. His treatment was considered successful and a miracle, but for Scott he wasn’t even halfway to where he wanted to be. Scott still looked to the sky every day, waiting for his chance to get back up there in the pilot’s chair. Scott wanted more, and his eyes were set on more physiotherapy. Virgil and Grandma were always keen to help. Scott had spent so much time with his Grandma, running through the same exercises, day in and day out, as well as having to let her help him do simple things. They’d become closer.

The company was now all over the media as the people who had given Scott Tracy the use of his arm. People were writing in hoping of receive treatment and funding flooded in, including some from Tracy Industries. The trial was to be expanded, allowing some of the many desperate people to have a chance to hope. Many of the new volunteers would be content with Scott’s results, their lives changed forever. Scott understood their desperation, desire and chasing of hope.

After another round of testing, he left the facility smiling. They had confirmed that there were still changes happening, that his progress hadn’t started to slow and that they could see further improvements to his motor control. Not that a downward turn would stop Scott at this point, he’d keep doing until either there was no more hope, or he was back to full fitness. He’d already spoken with the aviation society, had seen how they allowed people with various disabilities to become pilots. He knew he would be able to fly again in some capacity, but his eyes and heart were still set on his Thunderbird. How he wanted to sit in that seat again and fly her as fast as she could go. Scott would keep pushing.

*****

Scott’s body ached as he sat at his father’s desk. They had gotten back from the ranch that day, and as much as Scott hated to admit it, yesterday’s trial had been harder than expected. He had tried to keep his fitness up, tried to stay at the same level as his brothers, but obviously it hadn’t been enough. Though Scott could now train properly, his left arm having caught up somewhat to his right in strength. His left had always been weaker anyway, and the gap was probably still larger than it was originally, but Scott could cope with that. He, and his brothers, were all aware of it and could work around it. Though considering the starting point, considering where he had come from, to be back to International Rescue standard fitness was fantastic.

The scars on his arms were now a reminder of the hard work he’d put in to get to where he was. They allowed him to help others too, showing them the potential that stem cell treatment held. He had met a few of those who’d been struggling, who had needed some hope. Like the teenager who’d had her spine broken doing sports, who was now learning to walk again. Hope was something International Rescue gave people in need, and Scott had welcomed another way to bring hope when he couldn’t be part of the team.

Scott lent back in the chair and held his left hand up, clenching and unclenching a fist. He had proved himself strong enough, had passed the test and regained his pilot’s licence. The joy of flying himself to New York the next day had been amazing. Brain’s had then allowed him to fly Thunderbird One, letting Scott get used to the upgrades that had been added since he’d last sat in the seat. That had set Scott’s eyes on the home straight, and now he’d passed the final hurdle. He’d passed the International Rescue fitness requirements. His status had been updated. Looking beyond his hand his gaze fell on the light fittings on the wall. It had been eighteen months since the last time he’d stood between those lights. Eighteen months since he’d pulled them down to head out on that last fateful rescue. How they had all thought it would be his last. Scott smiled. He was ready. If a call came in, he would be the first to launch.

#sensorysunday #thunderbirds are go #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #grandma tracy #sensorysunday2020 #all fixed #long road to recovery #made it to the end #ready to lauch

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lovecustomartofficial · 4 years ago

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6 Benefits of arts for kids you might not know

Art is in fact linked to creativity, an attribute that’s increasingly being touted together of the foremost important factors for the success of individuals, organizations, and cultures.

The truth is that art is critical, if somewhat intangible, which is children engage in hands-on art activities, they learn much better altogether disciplines.

Art promotes creativity

Creativity is that the power to think outside the proverbial box, to string two unrelated ideas together during a replacement was. Solutions to major problems and breakthroughs of all kinds are linked to creativity. The ability to be creative is critical to the success of our kids and thus the well-being of our world. Now, quite ever, as we face incredible challenges like racial discord, wars, heating, and mass extinctions. Individuals, organizations, and governments seek innovative solutions each day. According to the International Child Art Foundation, “Research indicates that a toddler who is exposed to the humanities acquires a special ability to think creatively, be original, discover, innovate, and make property — key attributes for individual success and social prosperity within the twenty-first century.”

Art encourages neural connections

Art is an activity which can employ all the senses — sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste — counting on the activity. Children’s brain synapses fire away as they experiment and make by squishing paint between their fingers, mixing colors & materials, or drawing from imagination or what they see before them. Art builds fine motor skills Gripping a paintbrush, drawing dots and features, mixing colors, cutting with scissors, controlling a glue stick or squeezing a glue bottle, kneading and rolling play dough, tearing paper — all of these tasks require increasing amounts of dexterity and coordination, yet they’re so fun and rewarding that children want to undertake to them over and over. As kids engage in art activities over time, their fine motor skills improve.

Scribbling could also be a precursor to writing

Babies and toddlers begin by scribbling randomly, back and forth. But the more they scribble, the more they’re able to control the crayon and its movements across the paper. As children learn to manage their scribbling, they create a wider kind of shapes, eventually making all the shapes necessary to write down the letters of the alphabet — any alphabet.

Art develops problem-solving abilities

Open-ended, process-oriented art is nothing but an endless opportunity for creating choices, coming to conclusions, second-guessing decisions, and evaluating results. Children become easier with uncertainty and remain flexible thinkers, which is significant for creativity and confidence. And thus the more experience they have with a selection of materials and techniques, the more likely they’re to undertake new combinations and ideas.

Art helps kids understand themselves and their world

Children absorb incredible amounts of the newest information, which they need to process what they have learned during a secure, reflective way. Art allows them to explore feelings and affect both daily and significant events. Art materials provide a secure outlet for emotions.

Feelings and ideas are often reduced to a manageable size and manipulated as desired. Movement, image, color, line, and imagination all help children express themselves during a multidimensional way. This is often how that words won't be able to do, or which can be easier for them than words.

When we encourage our kids to explore art, we encourage them to master themselves, their bodies, and a selection of tools and techniques. We give them some ways to express themselves.

As parents and teachers, we'll offer an environment where it’s safe to experiment and make. An environment where questions are encouraged and kids have free access to the materials they need and luxuriate in. We do this to not produce career artists but to spice up children who are confident and comfy with their creativity in whatever form in takes.

We at LoveCustomArt create handmade paintings from photos as per our customers requirement, contact us to urge a homemade painting from your photographs.

#photos into art #paint my photo #painting from photographs #Photo to Painting #portrait painting gift #handmade painting #painting gift #portrait paintings

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woodcarl797-blog · 4 years ago

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The Advantages and Importance of Pediatric Therapy for Kiddies

The early years of your child's life are very important since in those years the social, cognitive, and physiological improvement and growth of your kid takes place. The few years are critical like a kid's brain evolves.Regrettably, not many children successfully pass these developmental obligations. Some children do not mature and develop as they should and, hence, have delayed or restricted advancement and progression. If your child faces these issues and requires support to build and advancement optimally, pediatric occupational therapy are of great assistance.With suitable occupational therapy, kids may benefit from enhanced development, improved communication and cognitive skills, with minimal to no developmental delay. This therapy is done depending on your child's illness or disability.Pediatric occupational therapy has several benefits. speech therapy for kids

It is used for a wide array of ailments and disorders and prepares your child to create a healthful and normal life. A few of those benefits include these Occupational therapy helps young individuals who face difficulties in various activities like brushing their teeth, toileting, dressing, drawing and writing, etc.. Occupational therapy aims to develop these skills and daily living abilities in the kids. Improves Sensory Processing It is frequently pointed out that kids who have sensory processing problems aren't able to satisfactorily encode information with their basic five senses like sight, touch, and smell, etc.The majority of these kids can experience under-sensitivity, over-sensitivity and both at places such at home, school, or park.A child with sensory processing problems can be readily deflected by adults or other kids working talking or nearby at a normal level. They can feel pain or distress from going on a swing, even playing a jungle gym, and even walking and draining against their bare skin.They can avoid recess, gym , and even riding a bicycle as movement leaves them very uncomfortable. Occupational therapy is ideal for these ones as it can help them boost their ability to modulate sensory input so that they can engage in activities that children really like to perform.Fine motor skills are small movements created using fingers, toes, wrists, lips, and tonguelike carrying a small thing or picking up a spoon. They Might Have problems with one or more of these, if a child is struggling with good motor skills Manipulating Manipulating Manipulating antiques and toys Holding a pencil Utilizing silverware or straws at an age-appropriate time Using scissors Using Zippers, buttons, shoelaces Coloring, drawing, tracing, prewriting shapes Maybe not developing a hand dominance at an age-appropriate Moment Avoiding games and tasks which require fine motor skills Gross motor skills help us move and coordinate our arms, legs, as well as other body parts. They demand larger muscles that help us get a grip on the entire body. Might seem awkward or uncoordinated. They may also suffer from one or more of the following:Rising and downstairs at a age acceptable time Coordinating both sides of the entire human anatomy Recognizing the Principle of right and left Poor equilibrium Visual processing helps us make sense of what we see. It is. She or He may have difficulties with a number of these if a child is struggling with processing skills:Difficulty with dimension and sizing of letters Issue recognizing letters Difficulty copying contours Difficulty with visual monitoring and crossing midline Difficulty discovering items among additional objects Difficulty copying from close and far points Issue with the Idea of right and left Play skills will help a child make sense of the world round them. https://www.carolinapeds.com/

A young child learn problem solving can obtain self confidence, and develop skills with. Your child may be developmentally delayed when they show more or one of the following:Needs adult guidance to initiate drama Difficulty with imitative drama Moves fast from one action to another Does not explore toys suitably Doesn't join in using peers/siblings when enjoying Doesn't know theories of sharing and turn taking Recall that all children are different and develop these skill sets at their own pace. But if you think your child might be struggling with adopting a number of the skill are as above, you can speak to an occupational therapist.

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forensicleaf · 6 years ago

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Love in Ones and Zeros

Read on ao3

WARNING for major character death but it’s off screen and old age related.

Coming into the world is confusing.

It's an endless stream of new information - sights, sounds, movement; a sudden awareness of everything where before there was nothing.

"Okay. Okay, please work."

Analysing...

Conclusion: Speech; human, English.

Vibration. Two sharp knocks.

"Hey. Anyone in there? Man, don't say I broke you already."

Analysing...

Conclusion: Response required.

If being born is strange, being able to move is so much more so. A whirring of gears and two soft beeps of acknowledgement and there is a whole new sight to see.

Analysing...

Conclusion: Face, human male, adolescent, age approximately fifteen years old.

The face changes shape - the mouth lifting at the edges and eyes widening.

Analysing...

Conclusion: Smile; an expression of happiness and excitement.

"Yes!" exclaims the face. "Holy shit, you actually work." Laughter: an extension of happiness. Expression of amusement. "Okay, hang with me a minute, buddy, we're just gonna run a quick diagnostic on your speech recognition software."

That is a strange series of words, with many things to analyse, but then, as the adolescent attends to something more familiar - computer, keyboard, code - the words begin to make sense.

"Better?" the face, the boy, asks.

Two soft beeps.

Again, laughter.

"Wow, this is -" He shakes his head. "Dad's gonna lose his mind. Okay, Captain Hook, let’s see what you can do. See this? No - no, not - right here, dummy, where I'm pointing, see? Yeah, you got it. Okay, pick it up and put it there."

It's a simple task - open claw, close claw around object, lift, move, lower, release object - and yet, something goes wrong. The lowering is done with too much force and the table buckles under the pressure. The object in question - a football - lets out a whine as it deflates.

The boy's face is expressionless for a moment. He bends down, picking up the empty football and letting it flop in his hand.

"So you're uh - a little heavy handed," he says. "We can work on that." And then once, twice, he gently pats the mechanical arm quizzically observing him.

The gesture is... good.

Love can't be felt in binary - not yet - but as the boy smiles again, the unit lets out a light trill.

This face... it's a good face.

"Welcome to the world, buddy," the boy says. "You can call me Tony."

Over the next few months, Tony tweaks the motor controls in the arm, and through a lot of trial and error, eventually fewer footballs and tables end up destroyed.

Every day they practice, commands and movements becoming more and more advanced as Dummy - as the unit has come to understand is the name it has been assigned - learns and repeats. The claw is replaced with a new one which allows for finer pressure adjustments and improved dexterity, and Dummy learns that although it has no speech function, it can vary the tone and pitch of the beeps it outputs, and Tony seems to interpret them just fine.

Beep.

"You like AC/DC, huh? Knew you weren't as dumb as you look."

Beep.

"Okay, not a fan of fire. I'll keep that in mind."

Beep.

"I know it was an accident, pal, there's just - we gotta get this right."

This ends up being a demonstration. Just like every other day, it involves lifting and moving and lowering and helping, except there are other humans - adults, smartly dressed and stern-faced - in the workshop, observing and making notes as Tony gives commands.

Dummy doesn't break anything, and the expressions on the adults' faces register as impressed, but not a single one of those is as important as Tony's, which registers as relieved.

"What are you calling it?" a woman with thick-framed glasses asks.

"Dummy," Tony answers. Then he frowns. "Ah... I mean - Dummy, yeah. DUM-E. It stands for... Dexterous...Utility Machine. Fifth model design."

He chews his lip. The woman nods.

"Interesting," another comments.

Later, the adults come back and Tony crouches down as they take a photograph. They give him a ribbon with a medallion attached - award: given in recognition of an achievement - and Tony holds it up for the claw to take.

"Don't drop that," he says. "I mean it."

The claw tightens.

"Excellent work, Tony," one of the adults says. "Truly impressive. Your father must be very proud."

Father: a man in relation to his child; Proud: feeling deep satisfaction as a result of an accomplishment.

Tony's father has never come to the workshop, but the adult speaks of his pride with conviction. It must be true.

It is a good thing, surely, but Tony's expression does not reflect this.

"Sure," he says. His shoulders lift up and down once.

The adults each shake Tony's hand, congratulate him once more, and then they leave.

Afterwards, Tony stands there for a long time, face unhappy.

He should not be unhappy.

Beep.

Tony starts at the low, short trill, blinking rapidly and exhaling hard. He flicks the medallion hanging in front of him with his index finger and it swings back and forward in the arms of the claw. He smiles, but it is different to his usual smiles - difficult to assign meaning to.

"I know, buddy," he says. "His loss."

For as much time as Tony spends in the workshop – his father’s workshop, as it has become apparent – he also spends a lot of time away from it.

He declares that it is because he has to attend something called school and that this school is far away. On the other side of the country.

“You can’t come with, DUM-E. No robots in the dorms – policy and all that. Nuh-uh, don’t beep like that. If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it’s not working. College girls are just much more fun to look at than you.”

It takes a while, but he always comes back, and he always has new and improved software when he does. He opens panels and attaches wires and types on the computer, and every time, DUM-E understands the world a little bit more.

On one visit, he secures a soft red and white hat to the mechanical arm and then proceeds to drape the rest of the unit in a long, shiny strand of metal. It is colourful and reflects the light.

“What’s the matter, DUM-E? Not feeling the holiday spirit?”

Tony says he is home for Christmas. Christmas: the annual Christian festival celebrating Christ's birth, held on 25 December in the Western Church. Birthdays are supposed to be happy days of celebration, but Tony does not seem all that happy.

Beep.

“Yeah, me neither. Good thing there’s plenty of champagne, huh? Cheers.”

Tony’s glass makes a clink as he taps it against the one in DUM-E’s claw. For some reason, it had been important to Tony that one be placed there. It does not make sense; DUM-E cannot consume liquid.

Tony drinks his own glass, and then another, and then another, and then the one in the claw, also.

Tony does this sometimes when he is unhappy. There is a correlation with occasions when he is due to spend time with his family, but he does not explain this.

When there is no liquid left, Tony leaves. He is unsteady on his feet.

Analysing…

Conclusion: Blood alcohol levels elevated.

“Merry Christmas, DUM-E. Have no doubt yours’ll be better than mine,” he says. And then he is gone.

He does not return for two weeks, and when he does, he gives none of his usual welcomes and carries none of his usual equipment.

He is dressed in black. His eyes are red. There is a bottle of clear liquid in his hand.

He lists to the left and then the right, more unsteady than he has ever been. He does not seem to hear DUM-E’s trills or notice the arm moving in greeting. He stands in the middle of the workshop, and stares.

And then, he starts to break things.

Computer screens, chairs, glasses and beakers - one after another they join the rest in shattered pieces on the floor. Tony swings his arms and sweeps his hands across desks. He keeps going, indiscriminative of what he is destroying. The noise is chaotic.

DUM-E is a fixed unit. Cannot intervene but to beep.

Tony does not interpret.

Tony is not listening.

“Tony!”

There is a new person entering the workshop. Human male, adult, age approximate to Tony’s, if a few years older. His expression suggests concern. Fear, even.

At the man’s shout, Tony turns. He almost falls.

“Get – Rhodey, get out.”

“Jesus, man, what are you doing? You got a whole house of people upstairs.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

“Tones.”

“No, Rhodey, fuck ‘em. They don’t care. They say they’re sorry, but they just want to know where all the money’s going now. They don’t care. Bunch of kiss ass -”

“I care, okay? I care,” the man – Rhodey – says, placing one hand on Tony’s arm and taking the bottle from him with the other. “You can break all the shit you want; I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need, I got you.”

Tony locks eyes with Rhodey. He looks… lost. His voice is quiet. “I don’t… I can’t go back up there.”

“Okay,” Rhodey says softly. “Okay, we’ll just – we’ll just stay here for a bit, all right?”

Tony nods. He slumps to the floor, resting his back against DUM-E’s base. Rhodey sits beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

Tony is unhappy.

Beep.

“Not now, DUM-E,” Tony says, voice hoarse. “Please.”

DUM-E was built to help fix things, but DUM-E cannot fix this.

This time, Rhodey tries instead.

It has been one hundred and thirty-four thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes since Tony last entered his workshop.

Two-thousand, two-hundred and thirty six hours of inactivity.

Ninety-three days in need of oiling.

Three months of waiting for Tony to come back.

He will come back; he always does.

Tony’s workshop has been quiet without him. The lady, whose name is Pepper, and the man whose name is Obie have visited sporadically, but they never stay for very long. Pepper comes in, stands very still as she looks at the equally-still space, and then turns around and leaves. Obie looks through drawers and puts a paperweight in his pocket.

When Tony finally returns, he responds to the soft beeps and the slow movements of hydraulics that are long-overdue for maintenance with a pat and a quiet, "Hiya, DUM-E."

He is pale, and there is something glowing under his shirt, in the centre of his chest. It is not anatomical. He smacks the claw away when it plucks curiously at the fabric there.

"Whoa, hey. What have I told you about getting handsy?"

He accepts a soft trill as apology, making his way to his desk and taking a seat.

And then, Tony starts to build again.

He spends more time in the workshop than he has in years, finds more things for DUM-E to do than he has in years. It is like the first days again, when the world was new and there was so much to do and so much to learn.

He builds metal boots and gloves that shoot fire from the palms and the soles, and has to place DUM-E on fire-safety, securing a fire extinguisher to the end of the mechanical arm to quiet the continuous distressed beeping that their testing invokes. DUM-E is slower now, growing obsolete and making more mistakes, but fire still forms part of a core memory: it is bad, and Tony is too important to burn.

Perhaps that is why he ends up covered in foam unnecessarily multiple times that day.

Before long the boots and gloves form part of a suit, painted the same red and gold as the car Tony loved when he was younger, and Tony uses that suit to fly. He whoops as he does, and DUM-E trills at the sound.

Tony is happy.

But Tony is not happy the night that he comes into the workshop with the light missing from his chest and the colour missing from his face.

He is not happy as he crawls across the floor the way humans are not supposed to do after infant-hood.

He is not happy as he tries and fails to reach the surface of the desk, grasping unsuccessfully for the first light that sat against his sternum and collapsing to the floor.

Analysing …

Conclusion: Unacceptable.

Re-analysing…

Conclusion: Unacceptable.

Something has to be done.

This is important. The most important task. More important than the demonstration with the men and women and their stern faces. More important than fire safety. More important than anything DUM-E has ever done.

Open claw, close claw around object, lift, move, lower, release object.

The glass box leaves the table, and then slowly, carefully, it makes its way to Tony's hands.

Nothing breaks. It has been a long time since nothing has broken.

Tony holds the box and looks at DUM-E in a way that he hasn't for many years.

"Good boy," he says, and the claw clicks at the praise.

Good boy.

Systems rebooting...

Core memory initializing...

Run diagnostics...

Complete.

“- you awake yet? Hey. Yep, here. Over here. Hey DUM-E, welcome back. The surgery was a success, you’re gonna be fine, yadda yadda. Welcome to your new home."

It's Tony, but there is something different about him. He looks healthier.

There is no light in his chest.

Welcome to your new home, he said. And new this place is. It is a workshop, but it is not Tony’s workshop. This is a bigger, open space with large windows running the lengths of the walls and clean angles everywhere. There is no view of the sea, but a city skyline instead. It’s lights are bright and numerous.

“Helloooo, you with me?”

Two soft beeps of acknowledgement.

Everything here is new. It is like coming into the world for the first time.

“Okay, great. Now look alive, cause we got work to do. Don’t make me regret digging you out of all that rubble.”

Rubble.

Explosions. Fire. Bad fire. Noise and screeching metal. U and Butterfingers and beeping in alarm as everything started to slide. Darkness and dust. Power failing.

Failing.

Everything had happened so fast. There had been no time to fix it, and DUM-E, bolted to the floor, had been unable to escape.

“What’re you waiting for? C’mon,” Tony says.

There are wheels attached to DUM-E’s base, now, and DUM-E uses them to roll after Tony, to where numerous crates are stacked. Moving in this way is a strange sensation, but… it is good. DUM-E beeps appreciatively.

“You like your new ride, huh?”

Another two beeps.

“Good. Can’t have you getting stuck again. The village isn’t complete without its idiot,” he says. “You’re the idiot, just to be clear. The lab’s the village.” He pauses. “I gotta work on my analogies.”

He lifts a cylinder out of the first crate. He holds it out for the claw to take.

“Back corner,” Tony says. “Do not drop this. I mean it.”

The claw tightens.

The cylinder is not dropped.

Tony came back.

He always comes back.

There is a new person in the lab.

Human male, adolescent, approximately fifteen years old. He looks at everything with wide eyes and a wider smile.

"Mr Stark, this is - this place is amazing," he says.

Mr Stark, DUM-E has learned, is what people sometimes call Tony when they are being serious and talking about important matters. Many of the conversations that Tony and the boy have are neither of these, but the form of address remains.

"Hey Mr Stark, can you look at this web shooter? I can't figure out what the problem is."

"I'm not joking, Mr Stark - a full on walrus suit."

"Okay, Mr Stark, but if you had to have any of the other Avengers' powers for the day, who would it be, and why?"

The boy's name is Peter, but Tony calls him kid more often than not, even though there is no evident biological connection between the two of them. He pats DUM-E a lot - the first time it's with a confused smile when the pen he dropped is returned to him. He takes it, eyes curious and says, "Hey, who's this?"

"That's just DUM-E," Tony answers from across the room. "Don't be fooled - he's actually more useless than the name suggests."

Tony says this a lot, but DUM-E understands.

Beep.

Peter's eyes widen at the soft noise, and he pats the mechanical arm once again.

"Thanks, DUM-E," he says. "You're a good robot."

Good robot.

DUM-E beeps again.

This face is a good face, too.

To begin with, Peter's visits are brief and spread apart, but gradually they become longer and more frequent. Tony starts to smile more. It is a good thing.

Peter can climb on walls and across the ceiling, which is not something humans are supposed to do, but he seems happy and healthy enough, and Tony's expressions imply that he is largely unconcerned by the odd tendency, so it must be fine. He has a suit of his own that is made of fabric, not metal, and improving and repairing this suit is the main focus of Peter’s visits at the beginning. Over time, it appears less and less.

New projects are initiated. Tony and Peter make a lot of things together, and they also break a lot of things together. DUM-E is needed to act on fire safety duty more times than is statistically safe.

"I don't even want to know," Pepper says one day as she stands in the doorway. Peter is covered in foam. This is not a mistake.

"Honey -" Tony starts at the same time as Peter says "Miss Potts!"

But Pepper holds up a hand, turns on her heel, and exits the same way she came.

Tony and Peter stay silent for a moment, and then they start to laugh.

It is a good sound.

Tony is happy. Peter is happy.

And then one day, Peter stops coming to the workshop.

Tony is gone for a long time also, but he comes back; he always does.

When he comes back, though, he doesn't smile, he doesn't build, he just sits.

There is a glass in his hand most of the time, and an unhappy expression on his face which doesn't lift no matter how many times DUM-E beeps or nudges him gently.

He has a glass in his hand the night Rhodey visits.

It is a bad night.

"Tony," Rhodey says. "What are you doing, man?"

Rhodey is Tony's friend, but Tony does not look at him like he is.

"The world ended,” he says. “Might as well.” And then he lifts the glass to his mouth and empties it in one swallow.

Rhodey tries to take the glass from him, but Tony does not let him.

"Get off me."

"You're a mess, Tony. How is this helping anyone?"

"There is no helping anyone. We lost."

His expression reads as angry, but there is something else there as well. There always is when Tony is angry.

“And we’re trying to fix it,” Rhodey says. “I know this sucks. Really, I’m sorry you had to – I’m sorry, okay? But we need you, Tones. We need all the help we can get to fix this, and we can't do it when one of our biggest hitters is drowning at the bottom of a glass."

"Find a way," Tony says. He turns his back to his friend.

Rhodey stands there for a moment, face sad. Then he says, "I'm glad Peter isn’t here to see what you're doing to yourself."

Tony doesn't respond, and he doesn't look as Rhodey leaves. He sits there with his head bowed.

And then he gets up and walks to the counter.

He lacks coordination.

The symptoms are familiar, but DUM-E has not seen them in Tony for a very long time.

He pours a drink. And then another, and then another.

Eventually, he can no longer stand. His glass is empty.

“DUM-E,” he says. The speech recognition software now has difficulty interpreting. “Hey DUM-E, you – hunk of junk. Pass me the – pass me the bottle.”

He wavers where he sits. He does not look healthy.

Analysing...

Conclusion: Blood alcohol percentage exceeding safe parameters.

Tony is poisoning himself.

“Don’t fucking – talk back to me. You wanna be scrap metal?”

The bottle Tony has been drinking from is just under half-full. It sits on the counter in a wet circle.

This is an important task.

Open claw, close claw around object, lift, move, lower, release object.

The noise the bottle makes as it breaks into pieces on the floor is loud.

The noise the glass makes when Tony throws it at the wall is also loud.

“God!”

Liquid spreads out over the tiles. There is liquid on Tony’s face, too.

He is sad. He is crying.

He puts his head in his hands and his shoulders shake. They shake and shake until he falls asleep, slumped where he sits.

DUM-E drapes a blanket over his back.

Quietly, the glass is swept away while Tony rests. The liquid is mopped up.

DUM-E has only ever cleaned up after an accident, but this is no different.

The sun rises, casting steaks of light through the workshop.

When Tony wakes, he places a hand on DUM-E’s frame, running his fingers over letters that are in need of replacing.

“Good boy,” he says.

Then, he starts to build.

There is a new person in the lab.

Human female, infant, approximately seven months old. Analysis of multiple facial reference points concludes that she shares numerous traits with Tony. A biological relative. She watches everything with wide eyes and blows bubbles of saliva from her mouth when she is excited.

Tony calls her Morgan, Peter calls her Baby Stark, Princess, Tiny Terror, and a whole host of other names that are not her own. He bounces her on his hip as he introduces her to the bots, who crowd around curiously at this new addition to their home.

Tony watches the two of them with a peaceful face. He rubs his thumb over the ring on his finger. He is happy.

This is love.

“…and this is U, and this one’s Butterfingers – don’t give him anything important,” Peter says. Morgan kicks her feet and makes a gurgling noise. “Oh and this one is your dad’s favourite. His name is DUM-E, but don’t let that confuse you. He’s really super smart.”

The claw clicks in greeting. Morgan’s mouth opens into a wide smile, showing a handful of tiny teeth, and she laughs.

It is high-pitched, and it is loud, but… it is a good sound. Her face is a good face. Her eyes are the same brown as Tony’s.

“I’m counting on you to be a good influence and you’re already lying to my daughter,” Tony says, lowering himself slowly onto a stool.

He does everything slower now, since he came back and brought Peter home with him. He is injured, and it is an injury that will stay, but DUM-E can find no scientific records detailing ailments that can account for his condition. Sometimes he leans on a stick when he walks, and sometimes he gets very tired very quickly and Peter has to help him back upstairs. He does not fly in his suit any more.

“Who’s lying? DUM-E is smart. Aren’t you, DUM-E?”

Peter grins triumphantly at the answering trills. Morgan laughs again.

“DUM-E is a dummy,” Tony says. “How do you think he got his name?”

“You didn’t say he wasn’t your favourite.”

“I love all my children equally,” Tony says. “Except you. You’re a pain in the ass.”

He says it the same way he says that DUM-E is useless. DUM-E understands.

Peter hums. He taps his finger to Morgan’s nose. “Oof, Dad’s being mean today isn’t he, Mini Morgs?”

Morgan grabs the finger in her chubby hand and says, “Da, da, da, da.”

While she is learning to talk, she says this a lot.

When she isn’t on Peter’s hip or cradled against Tony’s chest, she lies on her back and wiggles her limbs on her colourful mat, looking up at her mobile. DUM-E is given the important task of holding this and making sure to twist and spin it enough to keep little Morgan amused while Tony and Peter work.

“You’re going to turn my baby into a grease monkey,” Pepper says one day, scooping Morgan up by her armpits and kissing her on her forehead. “Hi pumpkin,” she says in answer to Morgan’s excited “Mama!”

“I want her to feel comfortable in here. Around all this stuff” Tony says. He puts down his wrench and smiles as Pepper kisses his forehead, too. “Girls in S.T.E.M - it’s important, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Speaking of… Pete –“ Tony nudges Peter’s leg. “When do we get to meet this elusive MJ?”

Peter’s head appears from beneath the car they are working on. His face is pink. He is embarrassed.

“Pepper! That was – I told you that in confidence!”

Pepper smiles. She hides it behind Morgan’s hair. “I’m so sorry, Peter! It just slipped out.”

“Do we need to have the Talk?” Tony asks. “Birds and the bees? I know you love Morgan, but -”

“Stop! Stop, stop, oh my god, stop.”

Tony laughs. He is happy.

It is good.

And despite Tony’s concerns, Morgan’s actions indicate she does indeed feel comfortable in the lab. She falls asleep to the sound of whirring hydraulics and Black Sabbath with little issue, and claps happily as the bots do their best to entertain her. She upgrades from kicking on her back to propelling herself forwards confidently on her hands and knees, which sees DUM-E upgraded from fire safety duty, to baby watch duty as Tony and Peter hurry to make the lab as safe for an infant on all fours as is humanly possible.

She crawls around the area that Tony designates the Morgan Safe Zone with speed and a smile, and then, on a Sunday in June, she stops.

“Hey, DUM-E, get over here, I need some more light,” says Tony from across the workshop.

DUM-E beeps. And beeps and beeps and beeps.

Tony grumbles at the lack of movement, but DUM-E cannot move. Not now.

“DUM-E! What’s the hold up? Your wheels as rusted as your brain now?”

He looks up. And he sees the reason for all the beeping. He is out of his chair faster than he has moved in a long time.

“F.R.I, get Pepper. Tell her to get down here now.”

Peter’s head spins round, his face alarmed. “What’s – oh my god. Oh my god, Morgan! She’s -”

“Walking!” Tony’s eyes are full of water, but he is not sad – he is laughing. He is happy. “You’re walking, honey! That’s my girl! Come here.”

Morgan takes two more wobbly steps and drops back down to the floor. She gurgles. No amount of coaxing can get her to repeat her toddling. Not Pepper’s words of encouragement when she makes it to the lab, nor Peter’s attempts to lure her with shiny objects.

“It’s okay. She’ll do it again soon enough. It’s fine,” Pepper says, but her face does not match her words. She is sad.

She is sad she missed it.

DUM-E chirps. Then chirps again.

Peter is the one who understands.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes wide. “I forgot. DUM-E, did you -?”

Two soft beeps of confirmation.

Peter, who has recently taken an interest in photography and video editing, had secured a camera to DUM-E’s frame a week earlier. He said it was for something called a time lapse, but today a more important task had presented itself.

“He got the whole thing,” Tony says softly, as the recording plays on the large screen. His eyes fill at the fledgling steps, the few moments he had missed the first time round. Pepper’s and Peter’s do too.

“See,” says Peter. “He’s a good bot.”

Tony smiles. He runs his hand over Peter’s head, disturbing the hair there, then he lays his arm across Peter’s shoulders and pulls him close.

“Yeah, kid. He’s a good bot.”

“Dad, dad!”

The excited words disturb the quiet of the lab as Morgan enters at speed.

She started walking at the age of one, and she hasn’t slowed down since. DUM-E has never been officially ordered to step down from baby watch, never been given an end to the task of keeping her safe, but there is little reason to be concerned; Morgan is as confident in the labs as she ever was. It is as much her playground as it is Tony’s, as much as it is Peter’s. Her dark hair streams behind her as she hurries past DUM-E to her father’s side.

“Look who’s here! Look!”

Tony turns. He climbs to his feet with a little difficulty, picking up his cane from where it rests against the edge of the desk. He is never without it now. It clicks against the floor as he walks.

When he sees the familiar figure coming through the doorway, he smiles. His eyes crinkle behind the lenses of his spectacles.

DUM-E trills, rolling forwards. The movement is not as fluid as it once was.

“Well, well. Doctor Parker, here in my lab? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Peter laughs. He is taller now, older, and his hair has grown out some. He does not take as much care to smooth it down as he used to. It is nice.

“Not a doctor just yet,” he says. “You have to throw the cap to get the title.”

“Formalities,” Tony says, with a wave of his hand. He draws Peter into a tight embrace, which Peter returns with enthusiasm.

“Hey, Tony,” he says softly. Then he laughs again, ducking his head out of the way of DUM-E’s pincers. “Hi to you, too, DUM-E.”

DUM-E trills. It has been a long time since Peter has come to the lab, although from the things Tony says, DUM-E understands that he does visit the compound itself often. It is nice for him to be here among the machines and tools and blueprints again. Back where he belongs. Back where he can make Tony smile the way he always does when the two of them are building and fixing things.

Tony taps his cane against DUM-E’s base, shooing. “What’re you doing, huh? Can’t even give me a moment to hug my kid. Wait your turn.” To Peter, he says, "It's good to see you, bud."

“Peter, come see.” Morgan appears at Peter's side and tugs at his arm.

Peter has extremely enhanced strength, but he lets himself be pulled anyway. He smiles at Tony in a way that DUM-E has learned means apology, and Tony smiles back and waves him away.

Morgan has been working on a project of her own, and it is this which she is excited to show Peter. It is a small human-shaped robot with similar markings to the suits Tony used to fly in. The colours are blue and gold where his were gold and red. The robot can follow simple commands, as Morgan demonstrates to Peter, who watches with rapt attention.

"Dad says I'm not allowed a suit yet, but when I'm older, I'm going to build one just like this," she says.

Peter glances over her head to Tony, face amused. Tony raises an eyebrow and shakes his head as she continues, "this one doesn't fly, because I couldn't quite work out the mechanics of it all, but mine will."

"Wait 'til she tells you her superhero name," Tony says. “C’mon, buttercup, let him have it.”

Peter looks to Morgan, who takes a breath and announces, "Iron Maiden."

Peter laughs hard. It is a good sound. With it, the lab seems complete again.

"Wouldn't have expected anything else," he says. He watches the robot, which is now making jerky punching motions. "Seriously, Morgs, this is awesome. You made it all by yourself?"

Morgan nods. She did. She is still young, but she is her father's daughter.

Peter smiles at Tony. "Proud dad, huh?”

Something in DUM-E's memory storage flickers in recognition of that word: proud.

Tony's expression changes very slightly. Perhaps he remembers, too.

“Of course I am,” he says without hesitation. “Of both of you. The best kids in the world, and I get both of them. What’s the chance I hit that jackpot?”

"He gave me first place at the science fair," Morgan tells Peter, lifting a ribbon over her head, and showing him the medallion attached. "See?"

"Science fair?"

"Very exclusive event. Only one submission," Tony says. "Pepper and Rhodey made up the rest of the panel. We would have asked you, too, but none of us knew it was happening until about five minutes beforehand."

"If you came back home you could join in all the time," Morgan says. Her voice is light, but she stares at Peter. It is a challenge.

“Well…”

The miniature robot has made its way across the floor of the lab. It bumps against the DUM-E’s base. It doesn’t understand it cannot pass. It needs to be turned around.

“Well, what? Ah-ah, not a chance, Wreck-It Ralph,” Tony says, halting DUM-E’s pincers as they reach for the small bot. “You want to end up in the corner with the dunce cap again?”

He bends slowly, turning the robot with care. It is a basic machine, but he handles it like it is precious. Set down, it toddles back toward Morgan and Peter.

“Dunce cap?” Peter asks.

“He knows what he did.”

It’s true; DUM-E does remember.

“Now - well what, kid?”

“Well,” Peter says again. He is smiling, but he is nervous. "One of the reasons I came today, actually… was ‘cause I wanted to tell you: I've uh – I’ve been thinking about what you said and -“ He takes a breath. “And I think Stark Industries might be the place for me after all. If the offer still stands?"

“If it still – of course it still stands, Pete. I can’t think of anyone better to take the reins. And Pepper’ll be thrilled to know she doesn’t have to interview any more Ivy League assholes.”

Peter laughs. “Tony, we both went to MIT.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re coming home?” Morgan asks. “For real? Really?!”

“Yeah, Morgs, I’m coming home.”

Morgan squeals as she throws her arms around Peter. It is sharp, and loud, but it is a good sound.

She is happy.

Peter is happy.

But most importantly, Tony is happy.

It is good.

No one has visited the lab in a long time.

Six weeks, two days, one hour and seventeen minutes to be exact.

Visits have grown more sporadic over the years, people coming and going with varying frequency, but this is the longest stretch of time where no single person has entered the lab since the period when Tony went away and came back with the light in his chest.

Morgan spends a long time absent while she attends something called Stanford - “What happened to MIT? Baby Girl, you’re breaking my heart,” Tony says when she announces this is her intention, but his expression is not sad as he says it, and it is not sad as he wraps his arms around her and kisses her hair. She comes back, though. When she does, her hair is shorter and her skin darker and she is happy.

Peter spends a long time absent, too, and he also comes back. When he does, it is with dark circles under his eyes and another new human to introduce to the bots: Benjamin, who has fluffy dark hair and likes to play with toy cars while Peter plays with the real ones. As Benjamin grows older, he joins his father, and they play with the real cars together. Tony struggles to join in - his hair is very grey now, and his hands do not have the steadiness they once did, but he sits with them, giving advice and watching them work with a tranquil face.

He is happy.

This is love.

Six weeks, two days, one hour and eighteen minutes.

Half-finished projects litter the desks and floor. A fine layer of dust coats everything. DUM-E has tried to clean, but made things worse.

It is quiet.

Butterfingers, U, and Morgan’s bot, SCRAP-E have entered their power saving modes, but DUM-E, being an older model, does not have one. It is not important. Someone needs to keep the lab safe anyway.

DUM-E waits. They will come back. They always do.

The clock ticks over.

Six weeks, two days, one hour and nineteen minutes since anyone visited the lab.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty-one.

And then, six weeks, two days, one hour and twenty-two minutes after the last visit, there is movement.

The doors open.

Someone slowly steps inside, and stops.

It is Peter.

He is older than he has ever been, his hair is greying a little at the temples and there are new lines on his face.

He does not look happy.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking.

DUM-E rolls towards him with a weak warbling chirp; Tony does his best to keep up maintenance, but DUM-E is an obsolete machine, now – has been for a while – and parts tend to break quicker than they can be replaced. Six weeks with no repairs has not been kind to DUM-E’s failing components.

Peter’s head turns at the noise. He swallows. "Hey, DUM-E," he says. "Long time no see."

His voice is tired. His mouth is a thin line, even as he tries to smile.

“You could – you could do with a little TLC, huh?”

DUM-E beeps again – a feeble, warbling noise.

“Yeah, I bet. Don’t worry; we’ll get you fixed up. I'm gonna -" He takes a breath. He blinks, water spilling from his eyes. He's crying. He's sad. "I'm gonna be taking care of you from now on," he finishes.

Tony must have gone away. Like he did all those years ago. Like Morgan did. Like Peter did. He will come back like they did. Like he always does.

But in the meanwhile, Peter should not be sad.

Tony does not like it when Peter is sad.

“Shit,” Peter says as the water keeps spilling. He pushes his hands to his eyes. His shoulders shake. His chest hitches.

This is an important task.

Stiffly, DUM-E raises the mechanical arm, bringing it down as carefully as possible on Peter’s soft mess of hair. Once, twice, three times, DUM-E pats. Pats are good.

Peter looks up. He is still crying, but he makes a short noise, like a laugh but not quite.

“You’re a good bot, DUM-E,” he says. “The best.”

And then, through the sadness, he smiles.

DUM-E trills as best as can be done.

Peter is not quite happy now, but he will be. DUM-E will make sure of it.

Peter’s happiness is important to Tony, and Tony’s happiness is important to DUM-E. Tony will be happy to know that DUM-E has been looking after Peter when he returns.

He will come back; he always does.

DUM-E will wait.

And will wait.

Because love can be felt in binary, after all.

01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101

#my fic #i know this like a week after I posted it on ao3 but I just suck okay?#irondad #spideyson #spider man: homecoming

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lalalizzy16fitness · 5 years ago

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10 Reasons Why Your Hands Are Shaking (Like Mine)

If you aren’t incredibly nervous or excited, there may be something else going on.

Your hands seem to be shaking; you’ve experienced this trembling before. Like when giving a presentation in front of the whole class and you couldn’t keep your papers still, or the first time you went on a date with your all-time crush and you couldn’t grip your fork if your life depended on it.

You were nervous, maybe a little excited. All healthy reasons for your fingers to be quivering a little bit. But what if your hands are shaking more than usual? The question can be a cause for concern-especially since many associate tremors with a more serious condition called Parkinson’s disease.

Maybe you’re really worried about what your tremors could mean. If this is you, don’t picture the worst just yet. Realize that there are various potential explanations behind your quivering fingers and plenty of ways to address them.

1. You’re a healthy, living, and breathing human being

Before we get into more acute scenarios, know that your body (including your hands) has a natural vibration to it 24/7. This is what’s called a “physical tremor.” Everyone has a little bit of it as you are never truly perfectly still. Usually it is so minimal you cannot even notice it. If you’re in perfectly good health, you can actually see these little tremors if you outstretch your arm and hold still. If you tried that out, did you notice your fingers trembling just a bit? That’s your body’s natural vibe. These types of tremors can also become a bit more intense when you are trying to perform a detailed task like threading a needle.

2. You’re experiencing intense emotions

Shaky hands often manifest when we are “in our feelings”. So those nerves you were feeling when you were trying to get that big project done last week? Those emotions triggered your autonomic nervous system to “enhance” those physiological tremors. Your autonomic nervous system controls involuntary body functions like breathing, blood pressure, heartbeat, and eye dilation. When you feel threatened or vulnerable, your sympathetic nervous system (which is part of your autonomic nervous system) fires up and signals to release epinephrine (aka adrenaline) into your body. Your heart might start beating out of your chest. Your breath might quicken. You could start sweating or shaking. This is what’s commonly known as “fight-or-flight” mode. Your body is preparing to protect itself from danger-even if that threat isn’t as scary as a tiger chasing after you. The “danger” could be grumpy text messages from your boss. Nerves, anxiety, stress, excitement, and even intense anger can act as an emergency signal to the body’s self-defense systems, potentially causing your hands to shake.

3. Your blood sugar is low

Your brain is responsible for controlling your sense of stability. So when your brain isn’t getting the nourishment it needs, you might experience tremulousness. The brain does not make its own sugar so it tends to be affected much sooner than the other organs. When your blood sugar is low, any part of your brain can become dysfunctional. So if you’re more prone to tremors, you might find that you start trembling when you haven’t eaten for a while.

4. You’re not getting enough sleep

Yes, your brain starts to malfunction when your sleep deprived as well. The body uses sleep to reset and repair cells. So if you’re not getting your recommended hours, which for adults is 7-9 hours a night, you’re forcing your body to function in a stressful situation. To keep afloat, your body will start pumping out adrenaline to try to keep you awake and running. But that, in turn, can cause your heart to work extra hard and your limbs to shake. Prolonged sleep deprivation can lead to many other health problems besides hand shaking though; it may increase the risk of heart disease.

5. You’re consuming too much caffeine

Many of us have had that experience where we’ve had a little bit too much cold brew, too much coffee, and too much tea-all of these stimulants which affect our autonomic nervous system and can cause us to feel jittery. Other substances can also cause hand tremors, however. For example, those who abuse alcohol or recreational drugs can experience hand shaking, even when they are not in withdrawal. Substance abuse can damage the cerebellum, the area of the brain that manages balance, coordination, and fine motor movement.

6. Shaking is a side effect of your medication

There is a whole list of medications that can cause shaky hands, according to the US National Library of Medicine. Drug-induced shaking occurs involuntarily and usually happens when you are holding your arms, hands, or head in certain positions.

7. Your thyroid could be out of sorts

When your thyroid gland goes haywire and produces too many hormones, your hands could tremble somewhat. People who suffer from an overactive thyroid have a condition called “hyperthyroidism.” The thyroid is the master gland of the endocrine system that sits at the front of your neck. It regulates most of the vital functions of the body, including energy metabolism. So when your thyroid revs up, so does the rest of your body. Sometimes people who suffer from “hypothyroidism” (an under-active thyroid) can display shaky hands when they are “over doing it with their medication.”

8. You could be experiencing a psychogenic tremor

These usually pop up when someone is suffering from a psychological disorder such as depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. Doctors aren’t able to make a general statement as to how these tremors manifest for each person since they are brought on by subconscious triggers. This makes them tricky to diagnose.

9. You may have a movement disorder

There are many movement disorders that can lead to shaky hands, but the most common disorder is an “essential tremor”. A lot of people have never heard of essential tremors and yet it is five to 10 times more common than Parkinson’s disease. An essential tremor only happens when you move so it is more easily hidden by people. This type of tremor is often called an “action” or “intention” tremor. If you experience these, your hand might start shaking when you try to drink your tea or write a letter. While essential tremors are usually not signs of any other serious condition, they can be extremely embarrassing and debilitating depending on their severity.

10. You could have Parkinson’s disease or Multiple Sclerosis

There’s no doubt about it: A Parkinson’s or an MS diagnosis is scary. Both are detrimental to your nervous system, but manifest in different ways. Parkinson’s is a progressive disorder that causes certain brain cells to die off in the substantia nigra, the area of the brain that produces dopamine and controls movement and balance. Shaking associated with Parkinson’s is distinct in the sense that it doesn’t look like jitters or essential tremors. A Parkinson’s tremor is called a resting tremor. The hand will start shaking on its own when you’re not doing anything. It also occurs at a fairly regular rate at three to four shakes per second. Parkinson’s tremors typically only start in one body part and progress to other areas, whereas other sorts of tremors are usually symmetrical. And sufferers of this disease also experience other symptoms such as stiff muscles and changes in speech. Multiple Sclerosis on the other hand, is an autoimmune disease that attacks the protective sheath that covers nerve fibers. While MS and Parkinson’s share similar symptoms, MS will usually show up as an abnormality on an MRI while Parkinson’s does not.

If you think chronic stress, too much espresso, hunger or lack of sleep are the cause of your shaky hands, most likely, the best solution is to make some lifestyle changes. Catch those eight hours of sleep, maybe trade in the coffee for some water every so often, have a snack, and see if the shakes improve.

But if you believe that your condition is not improving and has more serious consequences, book an appointment with your primary care doctor (or a specialist) ASAP. They will help you determine the next best steps. (Or at the very least put your mind at ease.)

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cristallodineverosa · 6 years ago

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Sehun’s handwriting analysis

I am bored so I decided to do a little analysis~ I really like Sehun personality-wise, so I’ll start with him.

Let me start by saying that Sehun’s handwriting is really interesting, at least according to graphology.

Okay, let’s first have a global look at how the writing appears without going too in-depth. Sehun’s writing strikes as rather messy, especially if compared to Baekhyun’s, which looks neater, and to Chanyeol’s, which is straighter.

His formniveau (= the “movement” of his writing, as in a combination of rythm, gesture and speed, we could define it as the “flow” of the whole writing) is high, because we can already see how the hangul looks personalyzed to some extent and even a little hard to read at times. I can see that from the various occurrences of linking, where he didin’t bother to lift the pen and just dragged it on the paper to continue writing quicker. According to Helmut Ploog, a hightened formniveau reveals that the writer’s intentions are determined by unconscious feelings and impulses.

Look, it might get a little boring in this section so feel free to skip it if you don’t feel like taking a free class about how the human brain works, lol. Sorry but I noticed this and I thought it could be interesting to share. I am a trainer of fine motor skills anyway... let me brag a little.

An important thing to notice is his posture and grasp while he writes (this is my field so I feel confident about what I’m about to say). He is right-handed, as you can see, but he keeps the paper slightly angled towards left, bringing his face pretty close. I examined other pictures of him during fansigns, and he usually keeps this posture, even rotating slightly his right shoulder towards the opposite side, as you can see in this video. This is usually an indicator of crossed laterality, bear with me while I explain what it means.

As you probably already know, for right-handed people the left side of the brain is slightly bigger and dominant than the right one. The left emisphere yields the main centres that control language and communication skills, and along with the frontal cortex it controls the motor skills of the right side of the body, while the right emisphere controls the left side. Usually though, one of the two sides (especially for what concern eyes, hands and feet) is preferred/is stronger and this determines if a person in right or left-handed (ambidexterity is extremely rare): this phenomenon is called lateralisation. Following this reasoning, if a person is right-handed, the left side of the brain is bigger and controls the right side of the body, including the right eye, which is sharper and comes first, ideally “directing” the movement of the hand like when you need to take something and so on (oculomotor control).

Sometimes, though, this laterality is crossed because even if the person is right-handed the directing eye, the main responsible of the oculomotor control skills, is not the right one (as it should be) but the left. This is pretty common and not absolutely a problem per se, but some studies link it to some particular cases of dysgraphia, dyslexia and aboveall of dyspraxia, since it still is a motor skill defect that affects vision and motion. It might also lead to a slight motor uncoordination (which makes me wonder how hard our Sehunnie must have trained to become this skilled in dancing). In my opinion, Sehun’s dominant hand is right, probably his foot too even if I don’t remember well, but his dominant eye is not the right one but the left, hence he represents a case of crossed laterality. I think he struggled quite a lot in school as a kid...

His grasp is definitely a problematic one, and it probably is one of the reasons why his handwriting looks a little crooked. Technically, Sehun’s grasp is called a static tripod grasp, and in the picture below you can see an example in detail.

If you look closely, you can see that this grasp uses the first three fingers to hold the pen (thumb, index and middle, hence the term tripod), but the index is pressed hard onto the surface of the pen, ideally “blocking” all the distal phalanges’ movements (if you look at videos taken during fansigns, you can see that Sehun writes keeping his fingers still while he moves just his wrist and shoulder - hence the need of rotation, to ease the tension gathering during writing). This is a problematic grasp because it can lead to tendon inflammation (De Quervain Syndrome, Carpal tunnel Syndrome) or to nerves compression, which believe me, is painful. Anyway, Sehunnie probably lift weights at the gym and works out on a regular basis, which strenghtens the muscles of the wrist and can help prevent inflammation.

A little disclaimer to conclude this section: I am not stating that he’s sick or has some severe motor control impairment. Crossed-laterality is IN NO WAY an illness or a disability, but it can be tricky especially during early age, because you need to understand the way your body works and you need to be in touch with yourself. I thought it could be interesting to share because this shows how much hard-working he is... that’s it. Also, it’s no secret because it’s under everyone’s eyes to see, and people usually doesn’t notice because they’re not trained to detect these things, so this is not an invasion of privacy or whatever.

But let’s return to the writing analysis. I used some colors to help you understand.

The caliber (color: blue) is on the bigger side, which generally means good self-esteem but also frequent need of receiving attention and even a certain tendency to pathos (lmao if this isn’t Sehun I don’t know what a Sehun is). The width thoo isn’t that big in comparison, the writing looks pretty narrow, which usually indicates good self-control, strong sense of privacy and also a little bit of inhibition. The middle zone isn’t well defined, so the boy feels generally good with himself even if he lacks a bit of that push towards what’s new and unknown (as we saw in Chanyeol... you could compare their writings to see the difference). The slant is veeeery slightly angled towards left, which is a sign of introvertion.

Let’s now talk about space (color: yellow). The space between words is pretty big, which usually means a good capability to discipline and organize everything, but as a downside it could be a spy of a certain tendency to feel lonely and to be messy in creating good relatonships with the others which is pretty fitting if you analyze Sehun’s past relationships. Even the spacing between lines is rather big, so this basically confirms the good capability to be neat and organized in everyday’s life (I can remember when he complained about Suho being messy back when they were roommates, lol).

As you probably immediately noticed, though, the lines follow a descending direction (color: green), forming a sharp angle. You could argue this was just for aesthetic purposes, since the members all wrote in the same sheet, but he could have chosen to keep the same angle but write following an ascending direction, couldn’t he? Well, handwritten lines following a descending angle usually are a sign of melancholy, even of pessimism. Putting this together with the other aspects we already analysed, we could say that Sehun is satisfied with himself in general, but has a disenchanted, disillusioned vision of life/future. This is pretty sad, if you consider how hardworking he is, and how he improved since his debut. He needs to be protected.

We already talked during Baekhyun’s analysis how the linkings (color: pink) are a sign of understanding and gentleness towards the others. This, along with the flowy form of his writing, indicates a particularly pliable, sensitive inner self. The frequent occurrences of angles and arches (instead of garlands we already talked about), are a sign of vague mistrust towards others as well as neediness: the boy demands attention and above all consideration, but he is reluctant to reveal his heart too easily.

Another important thing to notice, is that he chose not to use his official signature but to write his name in hangul.

To conclude, Sehun’s writing is particularly telling of his hard-working nature. He has a gentle side, but he’s definitely not a wuss. The boy worked his ass off to obtain his results, but even if he generally feels satisfied with his achievements, probably there’s a part of him that’s never fully sated and needs more, both in terms of self-esteem and in terms of how others perceive his efforts. He looks out for praises and can be extremely hurt by bad comments and bad experiences. He is sensitive, as we probably already know, and particularly prone to feel lonely and in a way different, detached from the others. He is a pessimist more than an optimist, and in my opinion he doesn’t only need reassuring to feed his ego, but above all to feel better in his own skin. Considering his slight motor impairment, also, I think his efforts need to be appreciated even more, because dancing and learning complicate choreographies can be very challenging for people with crossed laterality.

So: Protect. At all costs.

What do you think of this? :D

#exo #sehun #graphology #analysis #exo-k #handwriting #k-pop #k-pop idol #oh sehun #oh-sehun

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letssteveaistuff-blog · 5 years ago

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Top Educational Toys for Your Kids

For many today the idea of traditional toys seems obsolete - something from the "good old days" but this simply isn't true. There are still plenty of traditional toys out there - old-fashioned wooden blocks, wooden pull toys, rag dolls, and the like. You just have to know where to find them - or how to make them if you are feeling adventurous! Making homemade toys can be a lot of fun, if you're up for it! A homemade wooden toy will last a lifetime and can be passed on by your own children. Such items will be cherished far more than throw away plastic alternatives.

How to Choose the Best Educational Toys for Your Child

The youngest babies can benefit from sensory play toys that have different sounds and textures and are easy to hold. As baby grows into a toddler, they crave more hands-on items that can be manipulated and encourage movement. Preschool kids are ready for more hands-on educational toys that work with their cognitive skill building and memory, while elementary school-age children will benefit greatly from toys that involve counting, reading and spelling. But science kits and model building are also perfect for this age range.

Here are our top picks for the best educational toys for kids.

Best Educational Toys for 1-Year-Olds

BettRoom Geometric Sorete

Little hands can easily grasp these non-toxic wooden shapes. The detachable and removable blocks are handcrafted and encourage hand-eye coordination in toddlers as well as promote brain development as they learn all about shapes, colors and size differences. This is an educational baby toy that they will keep coming back to time and time again.

V-Tech Sit-to-Stand Learning Walker

This beloved learning center has so much to offer curious toddlers. One-year-olds will have a blast banging on the five piano keys, making the buttons light up, spinning the rollers and figuring out the shape sorter included in the detachable activity center. Oh, and of course they can use it to help get up and moving. It’s the perfect toy for stimulating their brain, teaching them new things and encouraging activity and mobility by helping to support them as they take their first steps. Parents also love that it has over 70 songs and sounds, so it rarely gets too annoying to listen to all day long...know more at - https://www.parenting.com.

What should a 2-year-old know academically?

When it comes to what kids this age need to know, child development experts focus on milestones that relate to language, cognition, speech, big movements (also called gross motor skills), hand and finger movements (also called fine motor skills) and social-emotional behavior.

You should always check in with your pediatrician if you're concerned about your child's development, but resist the urge to compare your toddler with the other kids in your parents' group. "There is obviously a wide range in when children achieve mastery of various milestones," says Workman. Here’s what you should focus on with your toddler:

Literacy - Sure, go ahead and sing the ABC song if your 2-year-old loves it, but there's no need to push her to memorize the alphabet. "Some children may show an interest in learning their letters or numbers at this age, but it's not expected, and instead parents should focus on fostering a love of reading, which can be done by sharing books with your child every day," says Workman.

Math - As your child plays with puzzles, blocks and manipulatives like Lego bricks, they're not only having fun, but also building early math skills. "Toddlers will be learning to sort and distinguish objects by shape, color or size, and can start to complete age-appropriate puzzles. They are also working on learning the concepts of size and volume, for example, which is bigger and which pile has more blocks," says Workman...get more to know at - Whattoexpect.

The following are the Top best educational toys for kids

The Original Stomp Rocket Ultra

Yes, you got that right. The award-winning kids’ science toy by Stomp Rocket is a cool toy that works under pressure! A fun toy that you can use outdoors, it comes with four rockets and a launcher that allows you to send the rockets into the air using the law of pressure. All that the kid needs to do is place the rocket on the launcher and stomp on the launch pad to push the rocket up into the sky!

Super Magnet Lab by Learning Resources

Kids are fascinated by magnets – things that are not sticky but stick to some metals! If your child loves playing with magnets as well, then get him the Super Magnet Lab. It is a STEM classroom toy that encourages problem-solving and critical thinking in kids. The kit contains magnets of different sizes that can be used to understand basic concepts such as the magnetic field, magnetic force, and poles.

Kitki Three Sticks Maths Game

One of the best learning toys for kids aged eight or more, Kitki Three Sticks introduces the concepts of geometry to children. The game helps improve a child’s critical thinking, numeracy, creativity and spatial awareness. Three Sticks is a math game but can be played by the entire family. It is challenging and forces your child to use his or her gray cells to solve the puzzle and score points...read more at - Momjunction.

Melissa & Doug Learn-to-Play Piano

Have a budding Mozart? With 25 keys spanning two octaves, kids can experiment with high and low notes as well as loud and soft sounds. It includes a color-coded songbook that's great for older kids or parents to play kid favorites.

LeapFrog Scoop & Learn Ice Cream Cart

This set packs in a lot: eight ice cream scoops, three toppings, three cones and cards with ordering instructions and activity challenges. The magnetic scooper can recognize the colors and flavors, making it a really interactive play experience for children thanks to its 200+ phrases and sounds...find out more at - Goodhousekeeping.

Find everything you may need for great family fun with our top Kids toys online range, or to keep the kids amused all weekend, as well as a great selection of gifts all in one place on For the Little Ones.

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ill-skillsgard · 6 years ago

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Sweet Demons, Part 2 - Zeitgeist/Axel Cluney

Title: Sweet Demons

Description: It's the weekend of Friday the Thirteenth, the biggest motorcycle rally and festival in the Western Hemisphere but nothing is more enticingly chaotic to her than the mysterious new member of the famous Motor City Sweet Demons.

Warning: 18+ Mentions of drugs/alcohol/violence, eventual smut/various kinks

A/N: Fun fact: This was the first major smut scene I ever wrote for Axel/Zeitgeist!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

One of the neighbors a couple houses down had music blasting over a PA system that we could hear clearly from the backyard. I was sitting on the edge of the wooden picnic bench and Axel was standing in front of me, shifting his weight from side to side, causing his boots to squeak under the movement. I bobbed my head when the familiar sound of the song Make it Wit Chu by Queens of the Stone Age started playing, a bluesy rock song that was perfect for dancing and even though he had just professed his hatred for dancing, Axel started to do just that. He threw the end of his cigarette from his mouth onto the grass and took my hands, pulling me off of the bench and toward him. Towering over me, his strong arms twirled me and scooped me up, rocked me from side to side and dipped me with ease. I felt like a doll in his arms, nearly weightless. "I wanna make it! I wanna make it with you," Axel sang off-key as he spun me around once more before letting his hand fall down my side to squeeze my hip. "I thought you didn't dance?" I recalled, running my hands flat down his chest, feeling shapes of his skin through the mesh tank top. "I can dance... Doesn't mean I should!" "Oh yeah?" "I also shouldn't be touching Big Al's precious little daughter but," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Here I am breaking all the rules." "Bad boy." Axel bit his lip and pulled me closer to him, eyes reading me all over, lips pursed. "Oh, don't you start talking to me like that, little one. You don't know what I'm capable of." "Apparently not," I giggled. "I mean... I want you to keep calling me names and... Fuck... Looking at me like that but I don't think I want to ride with a handful of broken fingers," he said as he looked around the yard, worried somebody might come out at any moment to find us in suggestive proximity. Feeling rather brave from all the alcohol, I threaded my fingers through his and felt the pinch of his metal rings. I pulled on his arm and he couldn't stifle his curiosity. "What? Where are you taking me, huh? This isn't very angelic of you Angel. Leading me into a dark area. Possibly to my death." "Quiet," I shushed him, looking behind us once more to make sure nobody was around to see me taking him to the tool shed. When I slid the aluminum doors apart Axel took one inspecting look in then stretched out his arm, welcoming me to lead the rest of the way. Once inside, he was the one to close the doors while I pulled a flimsy string to turn on the single orange light bulb dangling down from the wooden rafter of the shed. He spun around on the heel of his boot, arms clasped behind his back mischievously. As he approached it became obvious that he was too tall to stand up straight and had to remain slightly hunched over. He looked menacing and the way the light threw over his sharp features cast shadows, carving out his cheeks even more, drawing attention to the plump pair of lips that had been smoothly talking their way into my pants. I jumped the gun and stood on my tiptoes, hands on his tattooed biceps so I could kiss him but he pulled away right before I could. "One second... I just want to clear some things up. You're not just doing this because you're drunk, right?" "No, no. It's fine. I want to," I attempted to run my hands up and over his shoulders again but he held me away at an arm's distance. "Promise me right now,” Axel shook me gently. “Promise me you're going to remember this conversation tomorrow and that you said yes to me." "Axel... Yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." "And don't fucking tell your dad." "Oh shit... You sure? Normally I tell him about every member of his old gang that I hook up with," I chided. "I'm not joking around. Promise me... I don't need any more trouble than I already have." "I promise!" Axel's expression softened and he pulled me closer to him, bringing his lips inches from my face and purred, "Tell me you want me then." "I want you." "Just one more thing" he whispered, using his pelvis to push me further into the shed so that I was pinned right up against a counter, eyeing his mouth with anticipation, wanting so badly to taste it. "Yeah?" He ran his hands down my back and further, gripping my ass in both of his massive palms so he could lift me up onto the workbench. "I don't do relationships. If you want romance, I'm not going to give it to you... But I will fuck you hard and I will make you come." "Okay." "You want me to make you come?" "Yes." "Over and over? "Yes!" "How badly do you want it?" "So badly," I giggled. "Oh, no, no. You're going to have to give me a better answer than that. I know you're nastier than that," Axel's words were slicker than his hair as his hand slid up my thigh and came to rest on the front of my jeans, pausing for an improved answer. "Come on, bad girl. Tell me what you want. Want me to rub that clit for you? Get you real nice and worked up, huh?" I bit my lip and nodded my head, leaning back so Axel could pop open the metal button of my jeans. The material was tight but he managed to work his hand down the front of my pants, over my underwear, pinpointing exactly where I was already rife with arousal. The moment the tips of his fingers brushed over my clit I lost all reservation. The feeling was warm, the pressure was already satisfying and when he stroked his fingers up and down the cotton of my panties he culled more whimpering from me. "Oh, that's nice, isn't it? That feel good, honey? I wanna get you all nice and wet for me." "Fuck yes, that's so good. Such a dirty little boy." Axel shivered, eyes rolling in his sockets. "Yeah mama, you know I'm so bad. I know I'm not supposed to but... I just wanna play with your pussy so much. I need it, baby. I want it." "I know you do. Here," I whispered, pushing my cutoffs down and shimmying them off my hips so they dropped to my ankles. Axel stood back and watched me kick my shorts from my ankles onto the dirty wood floor and when I spread my legs open again he came right back to continue gently rubbing me through my panties like nothing had interrupted us. "Oh, I can feel that wet pussy just soaking through these little panties. Fuck. You make me wanna do real bad things, Mommy." "Then do it, bad boy. Go on. You know I'm ready for it." "Yeah? You want me to? What if I just... Pull these wet panties over and... Oh... Fuck. Look at that. Oh, honey... Yes. That's gorgeous." Axel's words dripped with longing and the further he explored the more I was absolutely sure I wanted him to fill me up and ravage my body as hard as he possibly could but any time I tried to pull him in by the neck for a kiss he would withdraw, eyes drilling me as he continued to rub circles around my clit. The sound of dirt and debris crunched beneath his boots as he dropped to one knee and then the other and gently dipped the tip of his middle finger inside of me. The brief feeling of him entering me made me gasp and hold my legs open in hopes he would give me more of that stimulation. His face was almost close enough for me to feel his breath and I sat with my spine straight, hands gripping his hair. I was met with more resistance but he didn't stop fingering me. He hooked his finger up inside of me and purred when I responded to it with my own sounds of satisfaction. "Yeah, baby. Come on. I need you to come." "Lick me... Eat my pussy." Axel drew a breath in through clenched teeth and slipped his finger out so he could give me a few lights taps to distract me from how needy I was. I groaned, half in ecstasy and half in frustration. "I want you to come just like this. Can you do that for me? Can you come from me just rubbing your pussy?" As good as it felt, I knew I could get off much quicker if he used his tongue but when I asked him to he shook his head. "No, no, honey. Come on now, I know you can do it. Just relax. Let me just touch you and fill you up, okay? And once you give me all that sweet cum, you know I'm going to have to put my cock in you." I felt the warmth of an impending orgasm start to spread all over my body, rendering me extra sensitive, raising every hair and making it so I had to cover my own mouth to stifle the noises of pleasure that could not be contained. All at once, I forgot where we were and what we were doing and the realization that I had snuck off with the newest member of the Sweet Demons to fuck in a shed was overwhelming and so very illusory that it almost didn't feel real at all. Especially not after Axel worked me up right to my edge and let me float there until he decided he would let me plummet. "You want to come now, don't you?" "Yes. Yes, please." "Do it then. Come. Give it to me," he granted me permission. "Fucking come for me." I pushed my fingertips through his slick brown hair and watched his face as I got closer and closer by his hand. He had two fingers pulsing in and out of me and his thumb caressing my aching clit firmly but with care and the combination of the way he looked and sounded mixed with his begging was unlike any random fuck I had ever had. "Oh yes, do it for me. I need you to. Please. Please come. Do it for me, baby." "I'm going to," I warned. "Yes," he groaned. "Fuck yes, honey. Give me all that pussy juice. So good. You're doing so good. Right there, you're right there." My ability to speak was cut off by the storm of sensation ripping through my body and Axel hushed me, forcing his fingers in and out of me constantly even as I buckled from coming. "Sh, sh, sh... Not too loud." He whispered. Once the shivers rattled through me, Axel stood up, still hunched over and immediately undid his belt so he could pull his hard cock out. I stared down to get a good look but it wasn't enough time to see much before he forced himself into me with a shudder of his own. "Oh fuck yeah, that's tight. So tight. I can still feel that orgasm squeezing around my cock." "How's it feel?" Axel pushed his index finger in my mouth, the one he had just used to conduct a shaking orgasm from me, effectively shutting me up. He leaned in as he started pumping away, depressing my tongue with his whole finger and lacing his other hand into the back of my hair. "Oh, you naughty girl... Letting a stranger fill you up with his cock. I bet you love this shit, huh? You love being a nasty little fuck, don't you?" I nodded my head and he laughed softly, lowering his face beside mine so he could continue whispering his thoughts to me. "Damnit, baby I didn't expect you to be so tight. Fuck... I'm not going to last long." All I could do was moan in response. Axel seemed to get lost in his own world of sensation as I sat up on the bench with my knees as wide apart as I could manage. He thrust into me slowly at first but picked up the pace as I hummed around his finger. He relished the sounds of wetness that we made and stared down between us for a moment so he could appreciate what it looked like to glide his shaft in and out of my dripping pussy. "Where do you want my cum?" His voice sounded in my ear but I couldn't do much to respond since he had been gagging me with one extra long finger. Once he pulled his index out of my mouth he used his hands to cup my face and I thought finally he was going to kiss me but again I was wrong. I merely felt the coolness of his rings and the piercing of his eyes as he snapped his hips forward and back. The most attention he gave my mouth was when he ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and let out the most desperate mewl. "Hm? Where do you want it?" "Inside," I breathed. "Come inside me." "You sure?" "Yes." "You want me to pump that pussy full of cum, do you? Well... I think I can manage that." His voice dropped to hardly a whisper but I could hear it by the shell of my ear and then my neck, tickling as he dropped his sweaty forehead onto my shoulder with a sugary sigh of lust. "Call me a bad boy. Please. Tell me I'm bad. Call me names... Come on. Help me come." He urged me, sounding so desperate to let go. With a smile I rolled back slightly onto the base of my spine, lifting one leg up on the counter so he could really get a glimpse of exactly what he was doing to me. "Come on, bad boy, I know you want to shoot that fucking load inside of me, so do it. You dirty fucking pig, do it. Fill me with all that nice, hot cum." "Yes, yes, Oh God. More. Little bit more, I'm right there." "Come on you filthy boy, give me all that cum. I'm ready for it. I want it so bad. I know you want it too." "Uh huh," he whined. "Oh, I'm a bad boy. Oh, fuck I'm a bad, bad boy, Mommy. My cock feels so good inside you, I'm gonna... Oh, fuck." "Yes little boy, come now. Come for me. I want to see that cum dripping out of my pussy." Axel grabbed the hand I was using to support myself on the bench and brought it to his neck. I immediately understood what he wanted so I closed my fingers around his throat, effectively covering the crude tattoo that was etched there forever. With his air cut off, I watched as his green eyes fluttered shut and his spine straightened as much as it could in the small confines of the tool shed. "Right there, right there, right there," he repeated to himself, words suffocated yet still articulated enough for me to hear. "Oh, you're fucking nasty. Nasty little boy likes to put his cock in things he's not supposed to. Such a bad, bad boy." "Mhmm. Yeah. Keep going. What else?" His words left him with urgency as he forced me to squeeze a little tighter around his neck. "You're going to come. You're going to give me what I want and right now I want you to shoot that fucking load right up inside of me. Do it, now you disgusting boy." "Yes, Mommy. I'm going to. Oh shit-" Axel gasped as he came and I gasped too but for an entirely different reason. During the exact moment his body tensed up, abdomen flexing underneath his see-through shirt, there was a loud banging on the tool shed door. "Oh fuck," I said, attempting to withdraw but was halted by Axel. He didn't let my hand go and never broke away from me. Instead, he shook his head. "Too late now, honey. Might as well ride this out with me." I felt the warmth of his cum inside of me wanting to trickle out but being forced back inside by the strokes of Axel's still-hard cock. "Whoever's in there better come out right now! If you're stealing, you're going to fucking regret it." Braun's voice yelled from outside the toolshed doors, echoing through the thin sheet metal as though he were standing right there with us. "Braun, go away, it's just me... I'm uh... Looking for a flashlight. Be right out!" "Angel?" "Yes. Be right there." Something told me Braun wasn't going anywhere until I revealed myself and by that point, Axel had given me everything he was worth and choked down his laughter with the back of his palm as he stepped back to tuck himself back in his pants. I jumped off the workbench and scrambled to get my shorts on and as soon as I fastened the button the doors of the shed screeched open on the rusted track. It was too late to look like we had been doing anything other than what we were actually doing and I flushed bright red. Axel, however, smirked proudly at Braun who looked like he had just walked in on his parents fucking. Only instead of downright embarrassment on Braun's part, his expression changed to that of a man who suddenly viewed another man as his mortal enemy. The look of vehemence Braun gave to us was enough to send me a step back. Axel didn't seem to feel the same potency as I did and it made total sense. He was the one that rode with a legendary motorcycle gang and Braun was just a skinny shop kid that posed no threat to him at all. "Sorry if it smells like we were looking for a flashlight in here, eh my man?" Axel chuckled and I scoffed in response. "Braun... I said be. Right. Out. Christ!" "S-Sorry I thought that somebody was in here stealing shit," Braun squinted at Axel. The both of them immediately became annoying to me and I wanted to escape the situation as quickly as I could but I knew I had to smooth things over with Braun. I couldn't be sure if he was still the type to go running off telling people about what he saw. Grimacing in my cum-soaked underwear, I motioned for Axel to leave the tool shed and once he ducked out he made for the clubhouse without looking back at us. He had the swagger in his step of a man just laid and I scowled both at him and then at Braun. "Don't you fucking dare breathe a word of this to Al, all right?" Braun looked sourly at me and crossed his lanky arms over the chest of his sweat-stained tank top, the same one he had been wearing all day. "Seriously, Angel? Him?" "Seriously, Braun," I mocked him. "Be fucking cool for once and don't say anything. It was a mistake anyway." "You want me to do something about it?" He volunteered, obviously eager to get any chance to confront Axel. "No! Just... Pretend like this never happened. I know I'm going to," I huffed and with that, made my way across the backyard grass toward the sliding door of the house. I had had enough of bikers for the day and went upstairs to lock myself in my bedroom so I could peel off the underwear that was starting to dry to my skin.

~*~ I couldn't help but think about the night before because it did feel really irresponsible and I was still convinced that Braun would tell my dad that he had practically caught me with Axel's dick inside me. I spent most of the day in a paranoid state and mostly wanted to be alone. The Sweet Demons, Dad and neighbors had bigger plans than to take the next day easy. Usually, the weekend following Friday the Thirteenth was just a two-day-long continuation of all the festivities which included hangovers cured by more excessive drinking, loud music and talking bikes all day. It was another draining hot afternoon, the kind of day that you wanted to sit around in your underwear with fans blowing air at you from every direction. Luckily for us, Dad had fixed up the house with central air and inside was crisp and cool as the beginning of Autumn. That's where I wanted to stay. Even when people came calling for me I told them I wasn't feeling up to drinking, leaving them disappointed and a little shocked. Everyone was in the backyard looking at each other's motorcycles like it was their own private show. Once in a while, I would peek through the blinds to see who was doing what but mostly I just kept to myself and caught up on some reading. I felt like shit from all the wine and beer from the previous night and I didn't much want to run into Braun or even Axel for that matter. My thoughts did manage to linger on the newest member of the Sweet Demons even though I wished they didn't. I couldn't help it. I kept on thinking about what we did and all of the horribly dirty shit we had said to each other. It set my heart beating a tiny bit faster to remember it, which I did clearly. There wasn't a moment of it that was marred by drunkenness. I could practically feel it still, the way he had worked his fingers in and out of me. I was not without a little soreness and it was just enough of a nagging feeling to keep reminding me of my bad decisions. I started hearing my name being called and I withdrew into the couch, holding my book up to cover my face so that if anybody did come looking for me they might think twice about bugging me. But that was the thing with bikers, they didn't much care what you were doing and soon I was confronted by my father who had hobbled all the way into the house just to find me. "What are you doing in here? Why don't you come back outside to hang out with everyone? They all wanna see ya." "Ugh, it's just so hot and I feel like trash." "Come on, you've drunk more than that before. What's up with you? I haven't seen your face all day." "Sorry. I'll come out in a bit." "Ah, do whatever you want," he said, winking at me before turning around and making his way back into the kitchen. From the kitchen, I could hear somebody else enter, probably to get another beer from the fridge and Big Al couldn't let them by without saying something snarky. "I gotta give it to ya, Axe, that is one sweet chopper you've built yourself there." "Aw, thanks, Al. Coming from you... I'm humbled." "No, I'm serious. Takes real talent to make something like that yourself. How old are you again?" "Twenty-seven." "Jesus Christ! I never had anything that nice when I was your age." Axel laughed and I heard the clapping of hands, most likely a warmhearted handshake. Hearing their conversation in the kitchen made it so I was reading the same line of my book over and over until I finally closed it and set it on the table. I didn't want to admit to myself that Axel's close proximity was enough to make me want to finally go interact but it truly was and I hated myself for that. "Why don't you go talk my daughter into coming outside. Bring her a beer too, would ya? It might seem cool if somebody close to her age started bugging her 'stead of her old man." "Can do, sir," Axel replied. The smirk that I wanted to hide found its way onto my face and it was only a minute of silence before Axel poked his head through the entrance to the living room, locating me immediately. The same sort of smirk spread across his lips too and when his body caught up with his head I noticed he did have a beer in each hand and I supposed one was for me. He was wearing a black tank top that day but I, of course, already knew that from my spying out of the windows. His acid green boots were still on though and I suspected he was wearing the same pants as last night. I wondered if the filthy fuck had even changed his underwear. "Hi." He said, holding up a bottle just for me. I sighed and outstretched my hand with a little extra sass. "Just hand it to me and leave me alone." Axel receded the beer and let his eyebrows furrow. "No, now you get nothing." "Good. Go then." "I was instructed to-" "Convince me to go outside and play with the other kids, yeah, I know. I heard you guys in the kitchen." Axel frowned at me comically. "Hey now, what are you trying to say? That you don't want to come and play with me?" "No... Not really," I lied. Axel approached me, boots landing audibly on the living room carpet. He set the open bottle down on the coffee table in front of me and dropped down on the love seat that was a brother to the sofa I was on. "You mad at me?" He asked after taking a long swig of beer. "Why would I be?" "Because you're looking at me like you want me to die." I sighed and crossed my arms. "I'll just be happy once you guys are all gone and this place is back to normal. I can never concentrate with all the fucking bikes going off in the yard." "You think you would be used to it by now?" "I could never get used to it. I only just moved back from school this Summer and I already hate it." "I'm sorry. I'll go tell them to keep it down back there." "Shut the fuck up," I flared. He blinked and sighed. "Tell me why you're mad." "Just leave." "No. I'm your guest. You should be a little more gracious to me. Especially after... You know." "What? After you finger fucked me so hard I couldn't piss right?" Axel bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. "I'm sorry?" "Maybe if you had done a little bit more for me I wouldn't feel so weird about it." He cocked his head to the side in question, begging an elaboration that I was hesitant to give. "What do you mean?" "I mean... I don't know... You acted like... Like I was gross or something. Like you didn't want to put your mouth on me." Axel looked down at the floor instead of at me. It looked like thoughts were buzzing like flies around in his head and he was trying to pick one out. After a long silence, I decided to speak again. "You wouldn't even kiss me." "I know." He answered quickly. "Well... If I'm so nasty to you that you can't even bring yourself to put your lips on me why are you even here talking to me?" "That's not what it is, Angel. Don't be stupid. I wouldn't have done anything if I didn't want to. I don't think that you're gross. Not at all." "Then what the fuck was that shit?" He sighed even deeper before replying, "I told you... I don't do romance. I'm not like that." "I've kissed plenty of unromantic guys. Next." It was then that I decided I would go for the beer and start drinking. It seemed like the proper thing to do. It went down smooth and produced only a tiny amount of gas in my stomach that rumbled up out of my throat. He watched me, eyes searching mine. He almost looked like I had brought up a gruesome story that he never wanted to hear again, the way his eyes softened and a sheen of what looked to be sadness overtook him. "I just have this weird thing about my mouth, okay? I really don't want to get into it because you wouldn't understand." My back connected with the cushions of the sofa. "Do you... Sorry if this seems really rude but... Do you... Like have a disease or something? Should I go get looked at?" "No!" He fired. "Of course not. You might have some predispositions about bikers but I'm not a fucking cesspool, okay? I'm clean." "Okay, okay. Sorry." I apologized, afraid that I had really struck something inside of him. "It's a... Germ thing. It's not you, okay? So don't take it personally... Trust me... I wanted to kiss you." "Oh, really?" I asked. "I still do." "Well, I'm not sick or anything if that's what you're worried about." "For someone who was just telling me to go fuck myself, you sure do flip your switch fast," he chuckled. I smiled around the mouth of my beer bottle and he raised his eyebrows at me. "For real though," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that it bothered you so much." I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm over it." Axel laughed at me and launched one of the decorative pillows in my direction in retaliation. "Careful!" I squealed, almost spilling my beer as I was hit. "Oh, I'm sorry," Axel said as he got up and took a couple of steps closer to me. "Now please, make me look good in front of your dad and come outside. If he thinks I can convince you to come outside, maybe he'll let me ride his bike." "Ha!" I scoffed. "You have a better chance at having tea with the fucking Queen." "I know but... Still. Come on. Let's go enjoy the outside. If you want, you can show me the beach? I heard it's great." "Yeah if you like goose shit, broken glass and screaming children." "I mostly just want to see fat guys in Speedos." "Well then, do I have the beach for you!" I enthused. Axel bent down, bringing his face close to mine. "Then maybe later we can like... Go make out somewhere?" "Aren't you afraid I'll give you mono or something?" "Well you see, I do fancy myself a risk taker. Now come on. Up, up! Up you get. Let's fucking go outside and crush some beers." Sneering at him, I took my half-empty beer bottle in one hand and followed him from the living room, silently cursing him but mostly myself for being a fucking pushover when it came to guys that I should not have been interested in.

#axel cluney fanfiction #au zeitgeist #zeitgeist fanfiction #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgård smut #fanfiction

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seahorseswimschool · 2 years ago

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Why swim lessons for babies are important?

Swimming is essential for our physical health, as we all know. It increases our stamina and physical strength while maintaining our heart rate. Additionally, it helps our young children move their limbs so they may receive a little exercise and obtain the rest we all need. But did you realise that swim lessons for babies in Aptos, California for your infant have many more advantages than you would think?

You may do wonders for your baby's development by introducing them to the pool. It is because everything we teach your baby in the water is organised to coincide with their critical developmental stages. They also have cognitive abilities in addition to their physical ones.

Advantages for your baby's health

-Your baby will be capable of moving before it can crawl or walk if they are in the water. They may practice their balance in a safe environment, which will help them become much more coordinated when not in the water. It will result in fewer bumps when they learn to stand on their two feet.

-Reaching for a ball is an example of a cross-lateral movement, which helps with hand-eye coordination.

-The slightest movements in the wrists, hands, fingers, feet, and toes are helped with fine motor skills by chasing toys (or grabbing them to give them an excellent ole chomp) in the water.

-Their arm, leg, and neck muscles, as well as their heart and lungs, are all strengthened by swimming.

-The vestibular system is stimulated by splashing and bouncing in the water, which improves balance.

-It has been demonstrated that swim lessons for babies in Aptos, California, benefit a child's feeding and sleeping habits.

Intellectual and social benefits for your baby

-The indicated cross-lateral motions also assist the brain in retaining and retrieving information by creating neural pathways.

-According to research, swimming helps babies develop more socially, academically, and psychologically.

-We at sea horse swim school try to boost your child's self-assurance with the best swim lessons for babies in Aptos, California. Your child will get the confidence to learn new things because of the joy of mastering a new skill or completing a task they've been working on.

-By holding your baby close and having skin-to-skin contact in the soothing warmth of the water, spending focused time in the water helps to improve your relationship with your child. Because they can smell you, feel your heartbeat, and hear your breathing, your baby will be more at ease (and you). This stimulation makes them think of the womb's protection and security. Away from the hustle of daily life, the warm water is the ideal spot to interact with your newborn. Additionally, it's a spot where you may enjoy yourself.

Keeping them safe

Sadly, drowning is one of the leading causes of mortality for kids nowadays. Knowing that your child can keep themselves safe both around and in the water gives you an incredible sense of security. By exposing children to the water early on, you may assist avoid the later development of fear and provide them with confidence in an emergency.

Accessibility

Water is a great equaliser because it creates a joyful, non-competitive atmosphere where everyone can thrive. Babies and toddlers with impairments and developmental challenges can benefit greatly from swimming. Along with the physical benefits swimming offers (such as reducing pressure on the bones and joints due to the buoyancy of the water), it also boosts their self-confidence. Your children's confidence will continue to rise if you concentrate on their accomplishments rather than their limitations.

#swim lessons for babies in Aptos

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goabrakadoodle · 2 years ago

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How Creative Art Activity Benefits Preschoolers

Young children love being creative, getting messy and taking pride in looking at their masterpieces once they are finished. Another great thing about art activities for toddlers is that it aids child development in more ways than one.

Creative art activities play a fundamental role in a child’s everyday life and encouraging her to learn more about them will only increase the benefits as she gets older. Creative projects will not only stimulate your child’s imagination but also helps her understand feelings better as well as hone their thinking and coordinating skills.

It is not possible to separate physical development from other aspects of a child’s growth, because a child learns by being active, and through multi-sensory, physical interaction with the world around her. Children manipulate their senses to engage in art and are constantly developing, practising and refining their skills.

Simple activities like learning to use a pair of scissors can improve your child’s ability to do things like tying shoes. When young children use their hands to do art, they improve their fine motor skills, improve their coordination, and they are easily able to use both hands at the same time.

Creative art ideas give children a much-needed chance to express their ideas, build on their observational skills, gain confidence, promote feelings of self-worth and develop their creativity and imagination, as well as offer them time to relax.

Art allows creativity to develop

By doing something creative, you prepare the ground for self-expression, especially when little children don’t have or know the words to express and cope with their feelings. Art is the most important way to help a child develop uniformly. Art also fosters mental growth by providing opportunities for children to try out new ideas, new ways of thinking and problem-solving.

In young children, creative art activities develop from their experiences with the process, rather than worrying about the finished product. Do not confuse creativity with talent, skill, or intelligence. Creativity is a process, it is about thinking, exploring, discovering, re-imagining and doing something that may not have been done before.

Art helps flex all the muscles

Exercising both the small muscles of the hands and fingers and the bigger muscles of the arms and legs, helps children gain control over body movements, retain flexibility and improve overall strength.

When young children begin to use their fingers to manipulate a paintbrush, crayons and markers they are working on developing their fine motor skills as they stretch and use those small muscles of their hands. This also increases their coordination skills as they begin to learn and use both hands at the same time.

Art makes all these movements happen when children paint, colour, glue and cut. The quicker their fine and gross motor skills develop the more they are able to do things on their own, from being able to change their clothes to combing hair. From hopping and jumping to running.

By exploring their physical dexterity through creative work, children often acquire skills that come in handy in other areas of their lives. Children who learn to pour and mix paint or water, for instance, become more adept at pouring drinks without spilling.

Manipulating small items helps children develop the dexterity to hold and control a paintbrush or a pencil, the first step towards being able to write. Clearing up after a messy art activity raises child’s awareness of how to be responsible for their actions.

Art helps expand the mind

Creative art activities cover a wide range of areas – from speaking and reading to listening and understanding. When your child is involved in making art, she gets to talk about her work, helping her develop communication skills. You are also helping your child build new neural networks in her brain.

As children are naturally creative, they often are natural storytellers. They love to make things up and have imaginary worlds they often will refer to. They also love to get involved in making things, which gives them a sense of achievement.

When children are engaged they learn more, so creative art activities are all about harnessing inherent strengths that exist within children. Capture a child’s imagination, which can make learning more fulfilling. It encourages reluctant readers, builds confidence, and helps teach practical skills. The benefits are numerous and wide-ranging. Creative art activity helps focus the mind on new ideas and projects. It is an opportunity for a child to do her best without having to face critical judgements along the way as creativity is characterised by originality and the freedom to express herself.

Art helps to grasp math concepts

Overcoming challenges is part of life’s journey. Creative art activities help your child to think, make connections and work things out by herself. It assists a child in sorting, organising and analysing information in a way that makes sense.

Making art helps improve oral and listening skills encourage team building and can be made practical to suit those who may struggle with traditional methods of learning.

Research has shown that creative art activities encourage children to think creatively. Stay more open to new ideas and challenges. As this gives them a greater sense of ownership over their learning, they become more interested in discovering things for themselves and turn out to be more effective learners.

People usually don’t see the connection between basic math skills and art activities. But children learn to recognise different shapes, count and sort out and even measure out lengths and sizes of art materials. To master math, you need a good thinking and problem-solving skills which creative art activities help activate and foster.

Creative art activities provide a wonderful way for your child to think and try out different solutions and achieve whatever she wants.

Art helps boost self-esteem

Being a young child is tough these days. Comparison and bias often become fierce, leading to feelings of unworthiness that can have negative consequences in years to come. A new study found that young children involved in creative art activities more often feel better about themselves. In fact, when parents join them in creative pursuits, it makes children feel even better.

Creative art Ideas give younger children a sense of achievement and allow them to take pride in their work. It usually is a great and safe way to discover that it’s okay to make mistakes and that getting things ‘wrong’ can lead them to come up with a whole new idea.

It builds self-confidence and develops a child’s self-regulatory skills. Waiting for the watercolours or glue to dry helps them develop patience, which all children need even in this age of instant gratification. The researchers surmise that creating art helps children people feel unique regardless of parental input.

Creative art activities have been shown to support a sense of social identity and encourage goal-directed behaviour, as well as enhance social resilience. The best part, it is not necessary for children to be good at art.

Engagement, and not ability is the key. Stressing the inherent value of the process encourages more participation by children who are often reluctant to get involved owing to fears of failure.

Art helps deepen parental bonding

The pace of today’s lifestyles leaves parents with insufficient time to spend with their little ones. Most parents are constantly looking for ideas that don’t merely keep children engaged but also optimize the time spent with them.

Creative art activities offer the perfect avenue to combine both. As a matter of fact, children love spending their time with their parents. As they get to spend quality time bonding with you and at the same time, you are together creating lifelong memories that both will cherish.

The more often you make art together, the more you get to talk to each other. Discuss ideas and dive deeper into the subject matter. You also exchange ideas and talk about what you think, feel and care about. And as an added bonus, during the early years of your child’s growth, you are inculcating values which stay with them for life.

About Abrakadoodle

This is the kind of process art learning experience that inspires children to think different, be innovative, and devise ways that teach about interesting things found in the real world. Changing the way children discover and imagine. Ignite their minds to think, play and learn like never before.

If you like to enrol your child in art classes or participate in a workshop, give Abrakadoodle a call. Or better still, make an appointment with the head of a centre near you.

Get a hands-on exposure to an experience that will make you see art in a way that adds value to life.

Originally published at Abrakadoodle Blog on 29 June 2022.

#creative art classes #art activities #kids art classes #kids art programs #Artistic Skills #art education

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