#and so I have like a meltdown and occasionally post about it cause like I see more people hate Danse for regurgitating BoS teachings than

[dykedvonte]

why do you hate Joshua Graham or Honest Hearts so much?

This DLC and character represents a bigger issue with fandom spaces I have but particularly fallout fandom in general.

Fallout tends to tackle a lot of topics controversial and not. The first two games it’s heavy cause they are the most satirical and direct with how anti-war, nationalism and etc… they are. 3 loses this as it’s very clear once you play or learn about all the games that Todd and a bunch of guys at Bethesda just liked the 50s post apocalyptic aesthetic and refuse to actually critique the ideals of the time period like the earlier titles.

New Vegas is the game that really gets back into it a degree it almost seems like it’s taking too much on. There are things done exceedingly well while other things are done horribly wrong . I’ve made posts about it before and plan to make a big series of posts (it’s a lot of writing) but my biggest gripe is with Honest Hearts and all the gross and white savior esque depictions it has of indigenous peoples. The entirety if FNV does not do the injustices faced by indigenous people correctly on any count. My two biggest complaints are with the Khans and the tribes in Zion but I’ll talk about the former on a different post.

Both characters of Daniel and Joshua are the most accurate depiction of white saviors I’ve seen and I hate how the DLC tries to justify and defend them. The DLC treats Joshua like this man who has repented for his past actions when he is just retracing his steps after his cruelty bit him in the ass. He was one of the worst parts of the Legion and it is all but explicitly stated that if you don’t force him to be non-violent he will turn the tribes of Zion into the legion 2.0. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are horribly infantilized by both Daniel and Joshua who both use them for self serving purposes guised by religious duty. The White Legs are the horrible stereotype of violent and savage indigenous and I personally think a lot of their interlinking with Ulysses, his hair and Ulysses character in general are distasteful and very telling of how BIPOC or POC where involved.

But outside of the game it’s the weird obsession people have with these characters ideologies and trying to make them seem more interesting/philosophical than they are. Tumblr is an echo chamber and many fans of Fallout are not the people on this site. Many people are not educated in the issues these characters convey and how poorly they do or used these characters as a poor introduction for their takes. Contrary to what a lot of people believe in, fallout has a prediomeny white cis male fanbase. More importantly a large portion of the fanbase is white.

You can joke how FNV made you trans or see the numbers on post/fics or diverse headcanons but these are kiddy numbers compared to the millions that consume the franchise and aren’t in those more aware spaces or don’t engage in the spaces the same way someone like me does/has to. Their views shape a lot more than people realize and it’s exhausting to be in a space where people don’t correct the more subtle yet toxic aspects of it but also adopt them into some weird quirky view point on the characters or issues. Some people don’t realize and some people don’t care.

My main issue is just the idolizing of these sort of thing in this fandom space and people try to acts like a game like fallout whose tagline is “War never changes” and has never had a game not revolve around political or militaristic factions issues isn’t that deep or doesn’t relate to real issues. I think it’s mainly caused by how over powered you can become and how you can strong arm your way past these learning moments as majority of people who play this game do play it as a power fantasy where they can do so as they please (which of course, go ahead it’s fun) but never take in parallels or lessons in the story as if it was just another first person shooter.

Also like another personal gripe is Cazadores spawn like hell whenever I’m there and I have not found a mod that works to mod them out so I have to play Indigenous Racism the DLC while getting jumped by giant wasps WHILE helping Mormons. Like I cannot catch a break.

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[livmadart]

would you mind if i shared some thoughts on temporary antidote/post cure shinchi?

first thought is the scruff hold is now ingrained in him as instinct, depending on who grabs him he either goes calmly limp if its someone in his trust circle, or fights like a feral kitten if its someone dangerous.

second is he's absurdly light, he gets his mass messed with but getting his size back dosent mean he gets all the weight back too. changing his size so drasticly in a short amount of time leave his bones filled air pockets like birds and bruses like a peach, he can still fight pretty decently to but still relies on those shoes to get the extra oompth he's lacking (and honestly who would give up those super kicks XD)

third his immune system is shit. he didn't get sick nearly as often before conan happened, the poison really messed him up, even after the permanent cure he gets regular fevers and since he needed to be sick to be shinchi if he's desprate or plot calls for it, the prototype antidotes can turn him back into conan in a reverse twist :3

also he still has occasional meltdown problems cause gosh dang it let this kid show emotions once in a while it cant be healthy keeping a poker face all the time!!! I bet even kaito lets himself have a good cry more often than he does!!

Great minds think alike! I was gonna incorporate similar ideas into my OVA 9 redesign posts, so that is exactly what I drew for this!

The only people who are allowed to pick him up like this are Heiji and Ran, period. Anyone else is gonna get kicked in the shin

I agree, full-sized, his bones are gonna be weird. I imagine he will get sprains and breaks all too easily

As someone with a similarly whacky immune system, I really like this (and am not at all projecting) especially the part about the cures now doing the reverse—you never know when you need to briefly turn back into a six year old. Probably to escape some kind of tight situation

Thank you for your ask!

[newwwwusername]

Can you do a platonic Autistic!Vaggie and Angel fic?

Vaggie has an overstimulated meltdown due to having to deal with everyone's antics and surprisingly Angel comforts her

Do not repost this on other sites. It will be cross-posted to AO3 under the same username.

Content warning for self-injurious stimming and depictions of an Autistic meltdown

Normally, Vaggie was good at ignoring the chaos of the hotel and all of the constant talking and whining and bitching from what few residents lived there.

Vaggie generally didn't get too overstimulated at the Hotel. She'd fought on the front lines before, back when she was an Exorcist, so she knew how to endure the noise well enough. The lights were generally kept pretty dim for her sake, by Charlie's insistence. Alastor had suggested a few times that they made the place brighter but one look at Vaggie was all Charlie needed to shut that idea down.

However, at this particular moment, her brain wasn't handling everything as well as it should've.

Sir Pentious and Alastor had gotten into a petty, loud argument about the semantics of... Something, and the noise was only made worse by the occasional two cents from the Egg Bois, who couldn't seem to decide which side they were on.

Over by the bar, Charlie was enthusiastically going through a list of ideas of how to make that part of the Hotel more friendly, much to Husk's annoyance. Angel sat by, occasionally throwing in a vulgar comment.

And Niffty was... Well, being Niffty and loudly tormenting a few roaches who had found their way into the main area of the hotel.

Vaggie stood by the staircase, trying her best to keep herself calm and collected even as all the noise grew louder. It was a losing battle, though, especially as her brain began to focus in on the sound of the lights and the AC as well. It was Angel who saw her race upstairs, so he casually walked away from the bar- Charlie and Husk were too deep into discussion to even notice him leaving.

Upon going upstairs, Angel quickly made his way to Vaggie's quarters. He opened the door (which she hadn't locked in her overwhelm) and immediately spotted her sitting up in the bed, curled in a ball, and hitting herself in the head repeatedly.

He quickly but calmly got up onto the bed. He didn't want to touch her when she was clearly overwhelmed so he instead picked up one of the pillows on the bed and gently put it in between her hand and the hand she was hitting herself with, just to minimize injury.

He got up again and walked over to where the light slider was on the wall and dimmed the lights in the room. Her hitting died down a bit with that and he could now more clearly hear the low whine repeatedly emanating from her vocal chords.

"Vaggie?" he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice as he once again sat down on the bed in front of her. She didn't give any sort of response- Verbal or otherwise- So he figured that this probably wasn't a talk-through-it type of meltdown. Realistically, all he could really do now was keep her company until she calmed down.

Eventually, she tired herself out enough for the meltdown to end and she just sat there, avoiding Angel's gaze. She was embarrassed- This was embarrassing. She felt embarrassed when it was Charlie seeing her like that- But Angel Dust?

She was about ready to curl up and die.

"Ya okay?" Angel asked. She shrugged. "Can't talk?" She nodded timidly. "'Kay, hold on a sec" he told her, pulling out his phone and opening the notes app. He handed her the device with a weak smile. "There ya go"

'Sorry about that' she typed out. He frowned.

"Ya don't gotta apologize fo' that" he told her earnestly. "I know we ain't all tha' close, but I ain't gonna judge ya fo' somethin' like this. Ya can't help it"

'Thank you for the pillow and the lights and for not leaving me alone'

"I figured no one else was gonna cause they were all distracted" he told her honestly. She supposed that was fair- I think they both would've preferred if it was Charlie there with her instead of him, but it also could've been worse. "D'ya wanna be left alone?"

'No, it's okay. You can stay if you want'

"Alrigh' then" Angel leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling while Vaggie recovered from her meltdown. He wondered if he could call her a friend rather than an acquaintance.

Vaggie figured that they were probably friends.

[ap41cu5]

can you do joseph x reader when the reader have a nightmare when reader wake up from the nightmare but she doesn't wake joseph up because she doesn't to bother him but he can't sleeping without her and he comfort her

Plagued Dreams

Joseph Oda x F! Reader Rating: Fluff Genre: One-Shot Fluff Word Count: 1173 Short Synopsis: The reader wakes up from a nightmare that used to persist often in the past. The incident causing the nightmare had troubled her for months and she had seemingly recovered from it. But the nightmare returned, and the reader, who didn't want to wake up her fiance (Joseph Oda), begins to have a meltdown in the living room. Joseph hears her cries and immediately goes to comfort her. A/N: im gonna be honest this is not my best work and i am so sorry that i posted this so late but i do hope that you enjoy this nonetheless! i havent had much time to write as usual, and i apologize if this fic isnt as long as you were hoping

“Holy shit, oh my God..” you whispered to yourself, your head aching as you rubbed your temples.

You had just woken up in a cold sweat, gasping for air as the sheets clung uncomfortably to your body.

What the hell?

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had gotten over it years ago, so why did it come back now? You hadn’t even thought about the incident in months. Why was such a tragic memory coming back to haunt you?

It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, so why was it that you could never shake the feeling of guilt that washed over you whenever it was mentioned?

You looked over to Joseph, who was peacefully lying beside you, the sheets sloppily thrown on top of him and one of his arms carefully wrapped around your torso. His lips slightly parted and his head tilted, even lightly snoring. The clock on his nightstand read: 3:23AM.

You were always so grateful to be engaged to a man like him. He was smart, had a delightfully dry sense of humor, beyond compassionate, sweet, and such a gentleman. He always had a knack for reading you like a book– like all of your thoughts were written above your head for him to see. You balanced each other out wonderfully, rendering the both of you the perfect team.

You moved to gently shake him, but checked the clock one last time before your hand had the chance to make contact with the resting man. The small lettering beside the time read in all caps: TUE. That’s right. It was a Tuesday morning, meaning you both had work. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up and have him miss out on sleep because of you. 

Carefully retracting your hand, your eyes still scanning his sleeping form, you gently took the covers off of you and got up out of bed. You gently lifted his arm off of you and placed it atop your pillow, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference as you began to make your way towards the living room.

Carefully shutting the bedroom door behind you, you immediately headed for the kitchen to treat yourself to a cold glass of water. 

The cold liquid made your throat ache as you gulped it down. It was oddly refreshing, and seemed to clear your head during the brief moment. The night was silent, the only sound rushing through air being the occasional buzzing of cars passing through the intersection outside the kitchen window. 

Placing your glass in the kitchen sink, you made your way towards the couch. Maybe watching a bit of TV would help put me back to sleep, you thought. Plopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote, you flipped through a couple channels before finally settling for the news. Since it was three in the morning, you had a feeling nothing good would be on anyway.

You tried as hard as you could to focus on the news, but the incident refused to leave your fatigued, debilitated mind. Images seemed to flash through your head, no matter how badly you tried to think about anything else. Nothing seemed to work. It was suffocating. You hugged your knees as you felt your chest begin to tighten. The low sounds emitting from the TV seemed to fade into nothingness as everything around you seemed to crumble from beneath your fingertips. Your breathing became heavy as you tried your hardest to snap yourself out of it. Tears cascaded down your cheeks and the walls seemed to cave in around you. 

“(First Name)?” The sound of Joseph’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of your anxiety.

He quickly took your side, wrapping one of his arms around your back as his other hand moved to cup your cheek.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you,” Joseph quietly muttered to you as he gently pulled you towards him.

The feeling of his arms around you immediately helped you to ground yourself again. His embrace was warm and his words were comforting. You turned, slowly wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed into his chest. 

Joseph stroked your hair, “It’s alright, you’re alright. I’m here,” he whispered into your ear. 

He laid backwards onto the couch, allowing for you to lay on him as you held him. His scent was awfully soothing, and his warmth only added onto it. His arms were carefully wrapped around your waist as he pulled you in. One arm placed around your hips, the other gently rubbing your back.

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”

At this point, you were squeezing him. Your head buried in his chest, your legs wrapped around each other’s, his head in your hair. 

It always took you a while to finally calm down whenever you’d experience any panic attacks or meltdowns related to the incident. But Joseph was always there for you, every step of the way. Willing to do whatever it took to help you calm down no matter how long it took. He never grew impatient, not once. 

He grabbed you a couple of tissues to blow your nose with while he wiped away your tears. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up, (First Name)?” Joseph asked, his thumb wiping away a tear as he caressed your cheek.

You sniffled, “I.. I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful while you were sleeping, and– and you’ve had to do this for me so many times already. And you have work in the morning–” “(First Name), I will always be here for you whenever you need me. I love you, (First Name). I’ve never been more sure about anyone else before. You are the most sweet, thoughtful person that I know. That’s the reason that I’m marrying you,” Joseph tilted your head towards him.

You chuckled, “you’re so sweet, Joseph. I love you so much, I really don’t deserve you.”

“You never give yourself enough credit, (First Name). I know better than anyone how amazing you are. I can say with full confidence that you deserve the whole world and more. I love you, (First Name),” Joseph murmured, cupping your cheek in one of his hands.

Taking one of your hands in his, he gently coaxed you back up onto your feet.

With one arm around your waist as he began helping you back towards the bedroom, he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s head back to bed, my love. And after work, why don’t we visit that new cafe that just opened up? It’s been awhile since we’ve gone on a proper date, and I think you deserve the treat,” Joseph gave you a slight smile as he tucked you in.

Climbing into bed beside you, you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist to cuddle him. With your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and one of his hands gently stroking your hair, you felt yourself almost immediately drift back off to sleep. 

[autisticzenitsu]

i want to clear the air, so this is the last you'll ever hear from me. i don't hate zenitsu because he's autistic-coded; far from it, actually. i just think he (and most others in the demon slayer cast tbph) is a poorly written character. in fact, if he's truly meant to be autistic representation, then then it makes the way he's treated and handled in the story that much worse to me. his meltdowns and otherwise dysregulated behavior are used largely for the sake of a punchline and -with the exception of tanjiro and maybe inosuke- the people around him either see him as a joke or are otherwise baffled by his existence, which is also used for comedy and not to make him feel like a sympathetic character. he's the butt of many a joke and that's about it, save for the few moments that buck that trend and make him more sympathetic. and while every character in demon slayer is about as deep as a 14 year old's self-insert sonic oc, zenitsu hasn't really shown much personal growth since his introduction, something he himself explicitly acknowledges in season 4. as a fellow autistic who to an extent also struggles with emotional regulation, i found his character personally insulting sometimes, so i think he's bad representation. if you love him, that's great and i love that for you, but he doesn't do it for me. to further clarify, i've only seen the anime and don't have any interest in the manga or light novels, and since that's going to be representative of most people's experience with this story, it bears mentioning because it will form the basis of their opinions as it has mine.

i want to apologize for causing you emotional distress in the first place by posting character hate in a fandom tag. i have actively avoided fandom spaces for over a decade, preferring mostly to just enjoy stories on my own and only occasionally post about them, so i broke one of the cardinal rules of engagement, and i'm sorry. it and my follow up ask were immature of me, so i apologize for that too. i hope you can understand a bit better where i'm coming from, even if we don't or won't see eye to eye on this. take care, and i hope you have a good rest of your week <3

Okay, thank you for that.

I'm not gonna touch the "poorly written" thing because bad/good writing is subjective, like all art is.

I really don't think he's treated as a punchline? Sure, some of his traits are played for laughs, but that can be said about Tanjiro's autistic coding. And Inosuke's autistic coding. And Muichiro's autistic coding. And Giyuu's autistic coding. And autistic coded characters from other media. (For what it's worth, I don't think Zenitsu's autistic coded on purpose; autistic coded characters rarely are).

Zenitsu IS seen as weird by other characters in canon, I'll give you that, but that's...reality for autistic people. It's not just Tanjiro and Inosuke who treat him decently, either. Shinobu treats him decently. While Aoi gets annoyed by his refusal to take his medicine, she doesn't treat him as less of a person, either. Kyojuro didn't treat him poorly. Jigoro didn't treat him poorly and loves him dearly. I'd honestly take far more issue with his portrayal if his friends and surrogate family found him impossible to deal with and acted like they barely tolerate him. But they don't.

(This is also Taisho era Japan; even in modern times, I think Zenitsu would get treated poorly by most people due to his autistic traits).

As an autistic person, I saw him and was like "he's just like me fr" and found a lot of comfort in his character. Granted, I'm also fully aware that if I were a fictional character, I'd be considered bad autistic rep.

I also appreciate that he WANTS to change, but has a hard time doing so, which is pretty realistic, imo.

I don't agree that he hasn't shown much personal growth, either. He grows a bit more confident and brave after season 1, he stands up to Daki while knowing she was a demon, and he can handle solo missions now. Also, his arc isn't over yet. But again, art is subjective, so to each their own.

I appreciate where the apology, and I do think I understand where you're coming from. I hope you have a good rest of your week, too!

[eerna]

I really liked TOG series when I started reading them at 17 cause I desperately needed that escape from reality at the time and I really liked them. I really did. They weren’t perfect, the writing was not sensational and occasionally shit got weird but it was a comfort. But they started getting worse and I was older so the shift from fade to black to explicit sex scenes was less jarring but still sorta out of left field but I persisted!! I liked some of these characters!! I wanted them to get a happy ending!!! And then everyone started pairing off no matter how illogical the pairing or the individual character’s goals or motivations and the last book came out and it was more than kinda lame but I tried to convince myself into liking it. At the same time I read the ACOTAR and they were all the same problems I had glazed over in TOG but worse and the story kept getting less engaging and interesting and the sex scenes kept getting more insane in their frequency and overwrought descriptions until the novella when I noped right out there when SJM tried to have a sexy “I’m fucking you in your mind” scene and I fucking wish I was kidding. But it’s like you said!! I wanted to see what happened with Nesta and Cassian so I tried the most recent one. BIG REGRET I HAVE TO GET RID OF THAT THING. I had to make sure I was completely alone when I pulled it out because the erotica was so explicit (the tone shift from her older books to that one was insane) I was scared of people looking over my shoulder. I swore her off since and I cannot fucking believe that people are out here publically stating how much they love those books and how everyone should read them. That’s not even to mention some of the other issues they most definitely have.

How is this a trend. Why is this a thing. Why has a very specific set of sexual desires and fantasies suddenly dominated media and social media as the end all be all romance. (I know the answer is capitalism) but it’s fucking wild to watch this happen in real time with whole sections of Barnes and Noble being dedicated to them and to the oversaturated market of books like them. Sorry this is so long but reading every one else’s post sparked my rage

Don't apologize, today's alllll about everyone airing out their SJM stories~~~~

THE SELF DELUSION IS SOOOO REALLLL I spent 2 full years of my life convincing myself I was imagining things and it wasn't THAT bad and surely the final book will solve all the issues I had. Surely I will love it. I just wiped my mind clean of any problems and kept trucking on. I was a frigging Elorcan shipper for a while. Then KoA broke me so badly I kept having emotional meltdowns bc of the bad writing while reading that 1000 page giant of a book and I finally swore off her stuff forever. I can't even imagine what a cold shower reading ACOSF for the characters or the plot must have been. WHAT SORCERY DID WE FALL UNDERRRR

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Eight

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Throws A Tantrum/Has A Meltdown.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Looking at the scratches on your upper arm in the bathroom mirror, you applied another layer of ointment with a frown, wondering why it was taking so long to heal. Three weeks was plenty of time for them to at least scab over. Wounds just didn’t heal this slowly unless infected, which the lines didn’t appear to be. But you were pretty sure that the little black veins coming from the cuts weren’t supposed to be there…

“Worry about that later, you have a mission to complete, Y/N.” You told yourself, looking yourself directly in the eyes. You had decided that after three weeks of toying with the idea of just outright talking to Paul about what was down in the basement, today was the day. Besides, you could always use your wound as a trump card. Getting periodically chased and then banged up by those beasts from hell was wearing you down like an overstretched rubber band. At some point you were bound to snap. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten any more bad scratches, but the bruises and occasional nicks you received stumbling your way through The Dreaming, were getting harder and harder to pass off as hiking injuries. The gouge on your jaw was blatant and no amount of cosmetics could conceal the scab that had formed.

Merv and Lucienne were trying their best to help you stay safe from the beasts, but they could only do so much against the determined beasts. In the end, Lucienne called you an Enigma she was determined to solve. Spending time with the castles janitor Merv had you realizing just how much of a potty mouth the talking pumpkin-headed scarecrow had, and his facial expressions were hilariously accurate to his moods. Then there was the care of their missing king. You found their absolute loyalty to him rather admirable since learning that the king had been missing for over a century. One had to be quite dedicated to remain at their post for this long with a missing sovereign.

Abandoning your bathroom, you rewrapped the bandage around your scratches before tugging down the sleeve of your shirt. Breakfast was at eight o’clock exactly and Alex’s home physical therapy appointment was at nine thirty, that gave you a chance to talk to Paul without causing Alex any distress. You slowly made your way to the first floor and entered the dining room, moving straight for the tea tray first. You fixed yourself a cup of tea and sat down, glancing at your grandfathers.

“Good morning,” You spoke, taking a sip of tea. Paul looked over his glasses at you and Alex’s gaze narrowed on your jaw.

“Good morning, darling, sleep well?” Paul broached cheerfully, trying to cut the tension between the three of you.

“Quite well, grandpapa, and you?” You returned, keeping the fake pretense of calm.

“Very well, very well,” Alex let out a huff, clearly perturbed by your demeanor.

“Out with it!” Alex rasped, looking between you and Paul. “Whatever it is that’s between you two that you’ve been quarreling about for the last three weeks I’ve had enough of!”

Paul looked guilty while you set your gaze on the sigil mounted on the wall across from the table, your lips pursed.

“It’s nothing, darling, really. Y/N and I have simply a disagreement on a matter. It’s nothing to work yourself up about.” A disagreement on a matter? Surely you could have come up with a better excuse or lie than that, Paul. It wasn’t even believable to you.

“It’s about the garden,” You added, looking at Alex who’s eyes shrewdly examined yours. “I think that it needs a change, or perhaps a refresh? It hasn’t been updated or refreshed since before I was born. Surely its design is outdated…”

“It is most certainly not!” Paul exclaimed, insulted by your words. Just the reaction you were looking for. The grounds were Paul’s pride and joy, always had been since he’d been but a mere worker for Fawny Rig. You raised an eyebrow in counter, challenging Paul to refute your words. “The design is classic and the plant choice has been carefully selected to compliment the natural foliage.”

“I’m pretty sure the Columbine is over taking the Iris’s and the pond plants are strangling the lilies. I also believe you’ve managed to cross-breed a new species of moss. May I offer you my congratulations?” Paul scoffed while Herman wheeled in the breakfast cart. Your eyes didn’t stray from Paul’s as breakfast was served.

“Everything alright?” Herman asked, looking between the three of you. Alex let out a grumpy sigh, tapping his cane on the ground.

“Paul and Y/N are arguing over the garden this morning, Herman.” Alex said, his attention switching over to the plate in front of him. Paul snorted at his partner and picked up his fork, ending the conversation. Looking down at your own breakfast, you picked at the food. Garden aside, you were on the edge of your seat. You didn’t like the idea of forcing answers out of Paul, but he and Alex left you no choice. At least the rest of breakfast wasn’t as awkward as it had been at the start. When breakfast was finished, you helped Herman clear up before getting Alex to the room where he had his physical therapy. You made sure that he was set and comfortable before heading off to corner Paul.

You checked the dining room first, but he was no longer reading the morning post there, so you started walking around, poking your head in rooms until you found him. After checking a few rooms, one of the scant maids informed you that he was now in the study, reading. So you headed for the study, steeling your nerves for what you felt was going to be a very difficult conversation. It seemed like he was waiting for you to find him, because when you appeared in his peripheral he patted the spot next to him on the couch. That wasn’t a good sign. You sat down next to him and drummed your fingernails on your thighs.

It was a few seconds before he spoke or moved.

“Your grandfather will be very unhappy when he finds out that I’ve told you, but you have to understand, Y/N.” Paul started ever so softly. “This has tormented Alex for so long, all he wanted was to keep us safe. To keep you safe.”

Safe? Exactly what was down there? What was hidden beneath the manor mortars?

“I don’t understand, grandpapa,” You spoke in confusion. “Protect me from what? What could have such a hold on grandpapa Alex that it has tormented him for years?”

Alex slowly closed the book he had been reading and set it aside. He then reached for your hand and took it, giving your hand a squeeze as he looked into your eyes.

“Before I show you, I need to tell you about your great grandfather, Roderick.” You leaned back in your seat. Your lips pursing together. You had figured it had something to do with what you learned while at the archives.

“I know about his obsession with the occult.” You said, chewing on your lip. “And I am also aware of the Order of Ancient Mysteries.”

“I figured as such, you are our granddaughter… but you don’t know what Roderick did, Y/N.” Paul said, his face gravely serious. “He didn’t just dabble in the occult, he was obsessed with it, and one night, one night he took it too far and we’ve had to deal with the repercussions.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried to summon Death.” Tried to? Well he obviously wasn’t successful and ended up summoning something else… and the only reason you could believe what he was talking about was because of your dreams and everything that had happened to you recently. Paul stood up and tugged on your hand. “Come, darling, it is time you see what is in the basement.”

You stood up from the couch and let him lead you towards that basement door you had always been told to never go near. As he punched in the code to the door, that nauseating pit of dread in your stomach rebelled and you started feeling physically sick. You walked down the stone steps and every step you took felt heavier and heavier. Your heart started to race. Reaching the bottom of the stone stairs, Paul took a right and moved forwards a few steps before stopping. He looked at you.

“Please, darling, don’t judge us until you have the full story. This has been quite difficult, especially for Alex.” You didn’t like how he said those words and looking down at the arm he gestured towards the end of the metal and stone hall, you started moving forwards. Judging by the way the basement was set up, it probably was used as a dungeon when it was first constructed. Approaching the open gates on the left, you looked at the security guards sitting at a modern table, minding to themselves. You slowed down and Paul wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “If you don’t want to see, I completely understand.”

“I’m through wondering,” You told him. He gave you a firm nod and you both turned and walked down the stone steps of the brightly lit room. You froze in place the moment your eyes caught sight of what was in the middle of the room. It felt like your heart had stopped or your blood had turned to ice. Feeling like you were going to throw up, you were caught in silver blue eyes staring into yours, trapped behind a cage of glass. “What have you done.” You whispered those words so softly you almost didn’t hear them yourself. It couldn’t be coincidental that the man that had plagued you nearly your entire life, was the very man trapped in the basement of Fawny Rig.

His gaze pierced into yours as if to say ‘finally’. You were compelled to step forward in a trance, approach him in a mindless state, entirely captivated by his beauty and frightfully vibrant eyes. But the horror and dread that rotted away in your veins kept you rooted in your spot. You felt petrified, your body shaking with visible trembles. All those years of torture, pain, and suffering, condensing into this one moment that stole your breath from your lungs. But what you felt was dichotomous. Beyond the horror and fear was an impenetrable feeling of possession. You were his.

“How long?” You finally whispered, looking at Paul. “How long has he been down here?”

Paul looked entirely uncomfortable with that question, but answered honestly.

“It has been over one hundred years… but Darling, you have to understand. He is dangerous—“

“You and I need to have a word upstairs.” You spoke, your voice now eerily calm. “Now.”

You gave the man that haunted you in both your waking hours and dreams, one last look before turning around and striding from the basement. Paul reluctantly followed behind you. As you walked, you could feel your body quivering with rage and horror. It was an indescribably dreadful feeling and one that shook you to the core. You knew exactly who he was and his imprisonment was far worse than what your grandfathers’ probably thought. You walked your way to the study, not wanting your incoming shouting to disturb Alex. The moment the study door was shut you exploded.

“Do you have any idea what you have done!?” You exploded, rounding on Paul like a viper poised to strike. “Never mind that you are keeping him locked up in a glass cage like an animal, unwilling and in such state!”

“Darling he is a very old, very dangerous being!” Paul argued back. “After Roderick summoned and trapped him, we could not guarantee that upon letting him free, he would not retaliate!”

“Well of course he’ll retaliate! He’s being held against his will!” You argued back, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “This is… bloody hell you’ve no idea what you’ve done by keeping him trapped.”

“Y/N, you must understand, Roderick, when learning that he could not get the being to cooperate with him, performed another spell. He’s bound to the Burgess line and will pick someone to bind himself to! We’ve no idea what will happen when he is freed and we don’t want anything to happen to you. We don’t want him going after you.” Your anger broke ever so slightly. You were still shaking at the revelation of course, but he and Alex were trying to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt.

“Grandpapa,” You whispered, turning your eyes to him with a defeated look in on your face. “It’s already too late for that, who do you think he chose?” Paul’s face turned ashen, for it was that moment that he realized that you knew far more than he or Alex had anticipated.

“That went better then expected,” Fred spoke, adjusting himself in his seat. “Expected ‘er to go off on ‘em right there.”

“Yeah well, she wanted to talk, didn’ she?” Ernie replied, looking at Fred. “From the look on her face I suspect that the mum isn’t to happy.”

An explosive voice erupted from above and the pair glanced at the ceiling. There was more yelling, floating down from the ceiling like snow from the sky, the voice of Y/N Burgess quite clear and irate. Even the being, still and statuesque as ever, lifted his eyes upwards. Ernie cocked her head as the shouting intensified.

“Right mad, she is.” Fred chuckled with a small laugh. “Always took her to be a firecracker.”

They both looked to the man they were guarding, he was back to sitting cross legged in the center of his cage. They both shivered. In all their years of guarding, they had never seen his eyes blazing such a frightening silver glow.

Date Published: 9/9/22

Last Edit: 5/29/23

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[insomanic-fanfication]

🌹🍃The Sound of Silence: Wally West x Mute Reader🍃🌹

[Wally West (Kid flash) Young justice (2010)]

Authors note: This wasn't a request, just something that popped up in my mind, as I go mute. But still feel the need to mask it a lot. So I just want to write a vent about myself, masking, with a character I love.

Many team members were a little wary of you at first; it wasn't anything you did wrong. It was more that they didn't know you or realize your mentor either.

Dick and Tim immediately noticed that you were autistic or at least some type of neurodivergent, mainly due to having Bruce as their father figure, being around Damian, and also Tim being autistic. With all the changes, they ensured you got accommodations to make you feel more comfortable, though they also stayed manageable. Not holding your hand but giving you that safety net.

It was Wally that actually first tried making friends with you, him being the most friendly out of your teammates. Besides Kon, that is, Wally was more enthusiastic. Wanting to make sure you feel welcome. He quickly realized that you couldn't talk; he was confused about why. He found out why through Dick and during the Team being mind linked.

After a while of you two being friends, you and Wally communicated through some basic ASL and some of your stims. He actually nicked his favorite stim of yours, named Happy jazz hands. Another was a vocal stim you picked up while being around him. That being, you mimicking the sound of him using the speed force.

Though, being Autistic, there were downs along with the upsides. Occasionally, having meltdowns or panic attacks due to touching a particular texture or something causes you to change your routine. Wally started regularly helping when you were going through them, helping you calm down. Wither that was helping you get to your room, getting you away from the texture or situation, letting you cuddle into him, or holding his hand.

The rest of your teammates did warm up to you at their own pace, but you stick to Wally like glue. Which did cause Dick to tease his redheaded friend. Especially when you two were holding hands or cuddling on the sofa. You didn't pick up on the social cues of why Dick was teasing him.

At some point, Wally couldn't figure out when his soft spot for you turned into deeper feelings. He didn't know that you definitely felt the same. Though you were hypervigilant, you never tried making a further move, just in case you were reading into things wrong.

During one of your meltdowns, College life, hero work, and every goddamn noise made you feel static and frustrated. Wally carefully approached you, helping you get to your room. This time, however, you asked him to stay with you. Signing: [You visit], which Wally agreed to, sitting on your bed with you.

Resting your head on his chest, though, typical for you both, there was some extra tension for Wally. He loved helping you calm down, even when he was more drained. It means you trust him immensely, but he feels he's tainting that trust by not telling you his true feelings. So he promises to tell you tonight after you've calmed down fully.

'Hey, [name]? Can I tell you something?.' the worried tone made your mouth dry. Does he find me annoying? Did I do something wrong? Sign: [Yes], you knocked twice on an invisible table motion to tell him yes. With a sigh, he continued, 'I don't know when the feelings started,' he paused to word the next ones better, 'but I've grown to really like you, more than just a friend.' The last part, his voice wavering with nervousness.

He finally turned his eyes to you when he felt your weight shift over him. [I. Like. You] was what you signed with a smile, which encouraged a smile to form on the Speedster's. 'I'm so glad,' he laughs with joy when you pull him into a hug.

_______________________________________________

Tumblr decided to be a bitch and post this before I was done, so I quickly edited it to have an ending. I'm mad because I was still working on how I wanted to describe ASL! {Edited on 1 May 2023}

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member throws a tantrum because of college (same-) ft SNSD's Tiffany as GF

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that my friend Thira490, who gave me this idea on Wattpad likes it! :)

The request: Hi I really love your book and I want to request where y/n is dating Tiffany snsd and y/n throws a tantrum because of homework from school and the members were worried so jihyo called Tiffany and told her what happened and Tiffany came to the dorm to calm y/n down and help her with the homework. Thank u ❤️

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

Y/N sat at her desk in the dorm room, her laptop open in front of her, and piles of textbooks scattered across the table. Her college assignments and exams were looming over her, and the stress was beginning to take its toll. She had always been a diligent student, but the demands of being a college student and a member of TWICE had become increasingly challenging to manage.

Dating Tiffany from Girls' Generation had its perks, including having a loving and supportive partner, but it also meant balancing her busy idol life with her academic responsibilities. Today, her college work had pushed her to the brink, and TWICE's sunshine couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.

She let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing her temples. 

Y/N - I can't do this. It's just too much. *frowns*

Down the hall, the other members of TWICE exchanged concerned glances. Their maknae had been locked in her room for hours, and they could hear her occasional outbursts of frustration.

Jihyo, as the group's leader and Y/N's mama, decided to check on her. She knocked gently on her kid's door before entering. 

Jihyo - Baby, are you alright?

The mentioned girl looked up from her laptop, her eyes red from stress and exhaustion. 

Y/N - I don't know, omma. This college workload is driving me insane. *tears up*

Jihyo approached and sat down beside Y/N, offering a comforting smile. 

Jihyo - You don't have to go through this alone, my love. We're all here for you.

Y/N sighed, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt. 

Y/N - I know, mama... But I hate burdening you all with my college stuff. You have your own schedules and responsibilities.

Jihyo placed a reassuring hand on her youngest child's shoulder.

Jihyo - You're not a burden, honey. We're like a family, and we'll always be here to support you. But if this is too much, maybe we can call Tiffany unnie. She's really smart, and I'm sure she'll help you.

The maknae's eyes brightened at the suggestion. Tiffany was not only her girlfriend but also her rock and her source of strength. She was incredibly intelligent, and the thought of having her by her side made the daunting task ahead seem a little less insurmountable. 

Y/N - Do you think she'd come over? *shining eyes*

Jihyo - I'm sure she would. Let me give her a call. *nodding*

As Jihyo dialled Tiffany's number, Y/N felt a surge of hope. She knew that Tiffany would drop everything to help her, and the thought of having her there was like a lifeline in her turbulent sea of stress.

Meanwhile, Tiffany was in the middle of a dance rehearsal when her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Jihyo. Concerned, she quickly picked up. 

Tiffany - Hello?

Jihyo - Hey, Tiffany unnie... *anxious tone* 

Jihyo - Our Y/N is having a bit of a meltdown over her college work. Do you think you could come over and help her out?

Tiffany's heart sank at the news. She loved her girl more than anything, and the idea of her being upset tore at her. 

Tiffany - Of course, Jihyo. I'll be there as soon as I can.

With a sense of urgency, Tiffany left the practice room and headed toward the TWICE dorm. Her mind raced with worry about what might have caused her lovely girlfriend to reach this breaking point.

Back at the dorm, Y/N anxiously paced back and forth in her room, her anxiety growing with every passing moment. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was drowning in her college work. The pressure was suffocating, and it felt like a heavy weight on her chest.

When the doorbell rang, Y/N practically sprinted to answer it. She swung the door open and was greeted by the sight of Tiffany, her saviour and partner, standing there with a comforting smile.

Tiffany enveloped TWICE's honeybee in a warm hug, and she buried her face in Tiffany's shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. 

Y/N - I'm so glad you're here, Tiffy.

Tiffany pulled back slightly to cup Y/N's face, brushing away a tear that had escaped. 

Tiffany - I'll always be here for you, babe. Now, show me this daunting college work of yours.

Y/N led Tiffany to her room, where the textbooks and papers were scattered like a hurricane had torn through. Tiffany took a deep breath and began sorting through the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.

As she explained some of the concepts and worked through the assignments with Y/N, Tiffany couldn't help but admire her girlfriend's dedication and intelligence. Y/N's determination was one of the things that had drawn Tiffany to her in the first place.

Tiffany - You're doing great, boo. Let's tackle this step by step. *encouraging smile*

With Tiffany's patient guidance, the maknae gradually regained her confidence. They worked through each assignment together, and the younger girl's anxiety began to ebb away. Tiffany's presence was like a soothing balm for her frayed nerves.

As the hours passed, the other TWICE members checked in on them, bringing snacks and words of encouragement. They were relieved to see their youngest smiling and making progress with Tiffany's help.

By the time they had finished, Y/N's college work was complete, and she felt a sense of accomplishment she hadn't felt in days. She looked at Tiffany with gratitude shining in her eyes.

Y/N - I couldn't have done this without you, Tiffy.

Tiffany brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face and kissed her forehead. 

Tiffany - I'll always be here to help you, my luv. You're never alone in this.

Y/N hugged Tiffany tightly, her heart overflowing with love and relief. 

Y/N - I love you so much, Tiffy.

Tiffany - I love you too, my dear. *whispering as she held her girl close*

The night wore on, and as Y/N drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate to have Tiffany by her side. With her girlfriend's unwavering support, she knew she could conquer any challenge that came her way, whether it was college assignments or the demanding life of an idol.

And as for TWICE, they couldn't have been happier to see their youngest member smiling again, knowing that they were all there for each other through thick and thin. This made them all share the same thought:

We are proud of our dear maknae.

A/N: I’m sorry for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[nicxxx5]

autistic mike wheeler headcanons

*IMPORTANT* i'm reposting this post because my original post of this is not showing up under the tags and i don't know why. i mean i have an idea but nothing to prove it so... anyways i'm reposting this with some edits to try and fix it. so if you come across an identical copy of this post from me..yeah..well...that's-that's why...anyways!

this is to go along with my autistic will byers headcanons post. just a reminder that this isn't an analysis and is instead my own personal headcanons for mike being autistic as an autistic individual myself

mike is touch adverse. he really dislikes people touching him unless their people he's lose to and in his case it's the party and occasionally nancy and holly

his special interest is dnd, star wars, and will's art. he loves to infodump with the party because they share his interests even if not to his extent. he loves infodumping to will though when will draws because sometimes will draws things based off mike's rambles and mike gets so excited about adding it to his binder

he hyperfixated on both el and eddie a little bit. when he was little mike also had a special interest in super heroes and el reminded him of super heroes with her powers so he became fixated/entranced by her. eddie was super into dnd and was basically everything that mike wanted to be; he expressed himself the way he wanted and didn't care, love dnd, acted confident. so he became super fixated on him and started to model himself after eddie because eddie to mike was both really cool and embraced mike's biggest special interest.

he's very hyperverbal. he often has so many thoughts and ideas that they're so overwhelming he needs to express them verbally in order to get them out and help his brain relax.

mike has verbal stim. he likes to click and roll his tongue to help him focus. he typically does this when he's alone because people have picked on him and he's been reprimanded by teachers for doing it at school so he's kind of shy about it

mike like's to stim by flapping his hands and jumping spinning in circles (separately). he also likes to verbal stim while doing this when he really feels like he has a lot of pent up energy

he's really bad at interpreting social cues and sarcasm. a lot of it just goes right over his head. when people try to explain it to him he just doesn't get it even when thinking back to the situation.

his difficulty with social cues causes people to sometimes get frustrated with him and he gets frustrated back because he doesn't understand what he did that they didn't like

growing up he also like to hold hands with will and he didn't understand why people gave them looks and why lonnie got really mad. he stopped mainly because of will getting bullied and he wanted to protect will

mike has a very limited number of safe foods and these safe foods change for him from time to time. more often than not though he does prefer crunchy foods to soft foods

when he has meltdowns he mostly wants to be left alone. everything is too much for him so he likes to be in a really dark room with no noise. he ends up verbal stimming and rocking to try and self sooth. he really hates people touching him during a meltdown or when he's over stimulated. will is able to talk to him though and is able to get yes and no answers out of mike sometimes and help him if his stims start to become self-harming

he has alexithymia. he struggles a lot, and i mean a lot, with recognizing his feelings.

even though mike is hyperverbal he does often struggle to verbalize his thoughts a lot of the time. often times he finds writing his thoughts helps to put together his ideas

he really hates the clothes his mom made him wear growing up. the tags were beyond painful and he would tell his mom this but she didn't understand what he was talking about so she didn't really listen. mike ended up bring his clothes to mrs. byers sometimes because she noticed how uncomfortable he was and offered to fix them

i feel like i could definitely keep going with this one but then i'll feel bad if this one is significantly longer than my will byers one. might come back to edit it in the future though. let me know your thoughts!

[smolselfshippingaxcycat]

Oh, okay! Let me toss the question back at you--how about you and Netzach? How'd you two meet and what kicked off your relationship?

Only if you feel like sharing, of course!! /gen

~ librarian-lover 📖

ofc ofc!! thamk fur the ask @librarian-lover! /gen sorry i took so long two answer :'3 and sorry abt how long the answer is, too! /lh

i dont have a whole story planned out yet (beclaws chronic illness is a meanie) nor a name fur my s/i, just vaguely put twogether bits and pieces here and therer, but im hapy two share my ideas!! ill put them under the cut so that the post isnt 5 meters long /lhj

Local Idiot™ somehow manages two get hired at L Corp /lh

they start out in the welfare depawrtment, as one of the furst mempurrs

they dont dislike being there, but being that deep underground offsets their agoraphobia a bit- not enough two cause them panic, but it definitely makes it so that their mental corruption levels rise quicker

so they sign up two transfur two the safety team instead (beclaws control team is "too yellow" and info team is too menacing and safety sounds. not scary and ok maybe they just enjoy how green the halls are there if they cant have bloo)

they happen two bump intwo netzach on one of their furst few days there and they introduce themselves two each other

and while my s/i's attempting two make small talk (and mostly failing), theyre kinda like.. "huh, something abt him seems kinda sad.... oh, people have said that about me a lot! and im purretty touch starved, maybe he needs a hug...? wait, but it'd be weird two hug someone yew just met, right?? maybe i can be his furriend or something thatd be supurr awesome and nyaice-"

they're having All the Thoughts™.... they just cannot stop Thinking™ /lh

so they're trying two come up with excuses two talk two him day after day- while noticing his alcohol and enkaphalin usage, which... kinda worries them. they've definitely been stressed enough themself two the point where they've wanted two turn two drugs... was this a similar case??

efurry time they try two go up and talk two him, though, their voice just... won't come out.

so they have the idea of writing a letter instead! maybe thatd be easier..

theyre very nervous, and constantly state how "its not a crush or anything, i just wanna be furriends and get two know each other meowre!" followed by something like "oh but no purressure if yew dont want i mean i just want yew two know im feeling this way is all!" beclaws they're not quite sure if 'friend-crush' or 'squish' is an ok term two use, beclaws feelings are confusing. the way their brain automatically thinks of the worst case scenarios also makes it so that the letter starts off with something like... "if yew're reading this im purrobly dead or i dropped this on the floor somewhere"

they put said letter in an envelope and seal it with a white heart sticker that they color in the queerplatonic flag colors and write netzach's name on the back.

and they go "ok tomeowrrow im delivering this!"

tomeowrrow comes. they fold the letter intwo their pocket....

and they dont have the guts two deliver it-

"ok ill just carry this around in my pockets while working. in case i die or something.."

they still make attempts here and there two try and deliver the letter two no avail

other agents in the safety depawrtment have obviously taken notice of this and occasionally tease them about having a (supposed) crush on the sephirah of the safety team- meowre in a teasing playful way than anything else

but these teasing interactions turn out two be a bit of a blessing- the whole safety team kinda grows closer twogether with these mischievous lil interactions and hangouts (my s/i included ofc- im just keeping it vague beclaws i wanna make it so that others can bwoop their nuggets intwo this kinda scenario if they wanna ehehe)

uhh i dont have meowch else past this point but like.

theyre sneaking around during netzach's meltdown (although they very definitely shouldnt be, they want two be of help somehow- think of a scenario similar two how the sephirah meltdowns play out in teequeue's playthrough on the lp archive?)

afterwards, they meownage two listen in on bits and snippets of the manager's talk with netzach after his meltdown

that kind of... intensifies their feelings twowards him! like "whoa thats so cool of him actually two keep mewving furward even when life is so scary... i wish i could be like that"

so it becomes not only "i wanna be his furriend" but "i think... i really look up two him."

followed by "and also... its confusing but i wanna give him platonic kisses. does that make sense?? are- are platonic kisses a thing??"

ofc theyre just kinda talking two themself in their head trying two figure out "its not romantic but i think i wanna kiss him?? but! thats purrobably weird ill just say its a squish and try two deliver that letter..."

they. still dont meownage two deliver that letter even after the fall of L Corp

but thankfully, they get another chance two in the Library!

there, they actually manage two work up the nerve two talk two netzach, learning furrom their past mistake of just letting the oppurrtunity slip by- and they do it on their furst day, too!

they actually get along quite well and are p relaxed with each other!

my s/i doesnt drink (just beclaws they think there are better tasting and smelling things out there) and they encourage netzach two purractice some moderation beclaws they just worry like that a lot

often times after receptions, they nap snuggled next two each other (meowch two the delight of my touch starved s/i)

the qpr really only "started officially" after my s/i was explaining two another assistant librarian that "even tho i wanna kiss him it isnt romantic but i cant explain why it just doesnt feel romantic"

but they were explaining loud enough fur like. efurryone on the floor of art two hear beclaws. "what is volume control im neurodivergent also stop making me so flustered /lh"

netz has (purrobably?) nefur heard of anything like that befur, but is willing two give it a shot

so theres always kisses on the cheek or forehead pre-reception and purrobably meowre kisses and closerer snuggles post-reception. sometimes occasionally kisses on the lips, lots of hand holding or havin an arm around the other or little ways of showing physical affection (ᶦ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶜ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉᵗᶻᵃᶜʰ ᶦˢ ˢᵘᵖᵘʳʳ ᵖʰʸˢᶦᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ) tl;dr: local idiot joins lobcorp, tries and fails two befurriend netz, meownages two actually gain the nerve two talk two him during the events of ruina and talks a little too loudly but it turns out two be ok beclaws qpr

[yrfemmehusband]

I have genuinely clarified so many times by now. Look on my page, the rbs, or comments. I have quite a few neurodivergencies that I won't list to justify myself, but people are taking this out of context and then others think I agree with everyone who rbs this post. I have clarified what I meant now to like 6 people all in different and accessible places on this post if you scroll a little. But omg, here we go again.

My point is that every single experience, traits and symptom has a point of normalcy, and that people need to stop using normality as a signifier for neurodivergency or symptoms of mental or physical illness. I have clarified so many times I want people to remove the concept of normal from their thinking about these symptoms, experiences, and traits, and instead apply the concept of if it has a negative or just large impact on you and your life.

And I don't just mean symptoms you immediately think about with this post, because it was never only about neurodivergency. I mean all symptoms. Having pain on your period is normal but if it's excessive it could be a reproductive disease. Having hallucinations is normal if you haven't gotten enough sleep or are in a dimly lit or quiet room but if you're having them a lot or loudly or if they distress you often you should probably look into that. Having intrusive thoughts is normal no matter how intense they are but if you end up ruminating on them and doing things to avoid the thought then you probably should see if you have OCD. Having twitches is normal but if they're repetitive and embarrassing or complex you could have tics and that should be investigated. An occasionally painful back is normal after a long shift but if it's limiting your mobility or caused by nothing go to a doctor. I could go on.

The people complaining about people overpathologizing themselves without making an effort to provide nuance are also the people I'm talking about. We don't get to decide for others what is or isn't a "normal" trait, you don't know how much it affects them, and if it negatively impacts their life then they should seek support and help for it if possible. Yeah, sure, everyone hates crowds, but they don't make YOU throw up in the bathroom from a sensory overload induced meltdown. It is not the initial experience that matters, but the impact it has on someone.

And I'll probably need to clarify this again in 15 seconds but whatever, thanks if you read this and extra thanks if whoever just links it to the next person who asks for me to clarify 😭

Pro tip if you see at least 50 people say "wait that's not normal??" In the comments of some neurodivergent relatability post then it probably is, in fact, normal. Daydreaming to songs is normal, I promise you. Most everything about being neurodivergent is normal, it's just the degree to which it affects you and your life that makes it abnormal.

[mossy-thing]

Writing the first act of my book is rough because nearly every pov character is at their own personal all time low, and the other one is a crow that just burned its beak in a cup of tea. Also, I like talking to my characters occasionally like I'm their therapist, so sometimes this will just happen:

Me: So, how would you describe your week since our last meeting?

Melind: I had a... meltdown, I think you called it?

Me: Yes, I did. I am sorry to hear that. Would you like to talk about what caused it?

Melind: I... I found out I am pregnant.

Me: Didn't you hope this would happen for the last thirteen years? Because you are the queen of a war crazed kingdom and your wife is planning the next war as we are speaking so you guys really, really need an heir because the alternative is kidnapping a toddler from a battle field and teaching them battle strategy? In some of our earlier sessions you described how pressured you felt to have a child. Is that what caused your meltdown?

Melind: Partly, I think? But I keep having this terrible thought that the cult that raised me is going to steal my child like I was stolen as soon as they realise that it has the same powers I have.

Me: Ah. That was surprisingly self analytical.

Melind: This is a tumblr post, I can't be my canonical repressed self here. For the sake of comedy.

Me: Makes sense. So, I'd advise you to take it slow for a bit -- and you are burning a woman alive. Why are you burning a woman alive?

Melind: I had no choice! She was turning into a monster!

Woman on the pyre, who was most definitely NOT turning into a monster: *starts screaming a terrible prophecy*

Me: Oh dear god.

[orcboxer]

wait,, I just read a lot of your mute related posts and like,, I've got selective mutism and I'm semiverbal autistic (as in, my ability to communicate in *any* way is impaired because of my autism, and sometimes completely non-existant if I'm have a meltdown or shutdown)

but like,, I can identify as mute?? For real? It never occurred to me that I could identify that way because I always thought it meant someone couldn't speak 100% of the time, or even that you can't communicate in any way at *all*

communication is always, and has always been so hard for me, even when I *can* speak, and it's so hard trying to explain to someone why I've lost the ability to speak, especially when I've gone completely nonverbal and literally can't. Speaking often times is so draining mentally and physically and sometimes I wish that I never had to speak at all. almost everyone treats it as though I'm giving them the "silent treatment" or purposely ignoring them, and even when people aren't mean about it they still believe that I'm "choosing" not to talk (though sometimes I wish I could just choose not to talk if I wanted to, but that rarely goes over well with people).

But I feel like my life would improve drastically if I could openly say "I'm mute" and not have to go through giant loops to explain why I can't speak to people. I really want to learn ASL, too (starting a college class this semester, actually, but I don't know how good it'll be). If I could communicate when I can't speak, or even choose to not speak and use ASL as opposed to exhausting myself mentally and physically, it'd be life changing.

I'm sorry if this ask is overwhelming (I didn't think I had this much in me to type out), but like,, is the Mute community a place for me?

I'm super super late to answering this sorry, but hopefully you'll still see this. I totally relate tho, those are exactly the experiences I've had myself with it. Honestly meetin other disabled folks helped a lot with comin to terms with my selective mutism, like there are plenty of folks who use a wheelchair regularly but not 100% of the time. And to see em walk just a little ways and then just expect em to never need the wheelchair again would be shitty right? So just cause someone can speak occasionally, don't mean they don't need ASL.

Disability ain't a strict all-or-nothing type deal. Very few things in life are. SM in particular can be wicked complicated and it just ain't practical to try to explain it to everyone. Especially when social anxiety is the trigger -- explaining anything under that kinda stress is difficult, let alone explaining a disability with a frankly sorta misleading name. Ain't got time for hyper specificity, we're just tryna get through the day.

Way I see it, we share the same struggles, we use the same accommodations, we got each other's backs. "Mute" is a perfectly acceptable shorthand term to describe yourself if you got SM. I don't think anybody could rightly begrudge you that.

[ms-moonlight-inn]

Movies for Writers, Part 1/?

Shutting Your Brain Off

(I've been sitting on this post forever, deciding whether I should post it or not. Ultimately, I settled on posting it 'cause someone somewhere might find it useful. Or, it'll just sit ignored. 🤷🏻‍♀️😊 Either way, I hope y'all enjoy...)

***

Occasionally, I come across a movie that speaks to me as a writer for various reasons. Sometimes it's the cinematography, sometimes it's the dialogue, sometimes it's the fact that the movie is actually about writing, itself.

Such as the case with this, first movie: Spalding Gray's "Monster in a Box."

***

Here's the IMDB summary:

"Monologuist Spalding Gray talks about the great difficulties he experienced while attempting to write his first novel, a nearly 2,000-page autobiographical tome concerning the death of his mother. Among his many asides, Gray discusses his problems in dealing with the Hollywood film industry, recounts the trips he took around the world in order to avoid dealing with his writer's block and describes his ambivalence about acting as stage manager for a Broadway production of 'Our Town.'"

***

Here the whole dang thing on YouTube:

Monster in the Box

(please let me know if the video comes down, I'll do my best to replace it)

***

Why is this an important watch?

Three main reasons:

Spalding Gray is a brilliant storyteller. Pay attention to the way he phrases things. How & when he decides to drop bits of exposition. This is a monologue, so it's all the power of his words, and his words alone. There is very little production here.

Even with the small amount of production, there is some camera & sound work here. When does he integrate that? How much & why? You can use that in your own writing. When should you add sensory details? When is it best to leave your prose sparse?

Most importantly, the topic of this monologue is writer's block. The dreaded writer's block that we are all faced with at one point or another. There are some valuable lessons to learn here. Spald suffers deeply from his writer's block, so much so that it leads him to several self-discoveries.

***

The first time I watched this was way back in the day as a college student. I'd actually forgotten most of it, but I remember being in awe of his writing talent at the time. Having recently re-watched it (and now that I've been writing more actively) I'm still just as awestruck, but also a lot sad.

Spalding was often plagued by self doubt. That's hit me in all the tender bits on & off lately. This past winter I had a major meltdown over my writing, so watching this was both timely and reassuring for me. I mean, if an individual of Spaulding's caliber can speak openly about his anxieties as a writer, as well as his own battles with writers block, then certainly there is hope for the rest of us. Right? (Goodness, I hope so.)

Ok, I admit it, this might sound like an overly optimistic view of "Monster in a Box," we are talking about the one work that nearly derailed his entire career; however, there's a lesson in how he navigated the disaster.

He set it aside.

He let it breathe.

He turned it into something else!

He let "Monster" be the thing that it needed to be, that it was supposed to be all along. I think that is the biggest lesson I took from my re-watch:

Sometimes your story knows more about itself than you do.

Let that sink it.

Sometimes, it's best to just shut your brain off and write.

✒️✏️💻

I'm currently working on taking Spald's advice.