#anyone have extra earplugs?

[avalentina]

I'd read this now, but I'm fucking tired and my sister's dog won't leave my dog alone.

Title: Hole in One

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 3100

The sky is the bluest it’s been in months, and I hear birds singing from the trees surrounding the private course. My clubs have been unused for far too long, and I cannot wait to feel the grass beneath my feet. Spying my grandparents talking to a young man who I assume is the club’s pro, I make my way in their direction, eager to get onto the green. The giddy skip in my step is undeniably partly due to the excitement of playing the game again, but mostly because I’ve not seen my jetsetter grandparents since Christmas. 

“Grammy! Gramps!” I call, my hand waving as they turn towards me. Wrapping my grandmother in a hug, I put out my hand for a high five with my grandfather. Gleefully, he obliges. 

“So glad you could join us!” Grammy whoops. “Let me look at you.” Taking my hands, she steps back to survey me in that way that must be a full chapter in the Grandparent Training Manual. “Looking sexy as hell,” she laughs, her greeting likely not in that same manual. “Twirl for us.” She makes that motion with her finger, and I oblige.

As I spin around, my skort not moving in any way that would make a twirl necessary, my grandfather applauds as if I were a five year old at her first ballet recital. 

“Two of the biggest dorks I know,” I giggle. “I’m so happy to see you!” Excitedly, I pull them in for a group hug, wondering why the golf pro hasn’t excused himself yet. So when I step back, I pointedly look in his direction. 

And promptly freeze. 

Fuck. Nope. Not the golf pro. Nor the course manager. Not anyone who works at the place. 

“Hi. I’m Harry.” He leans forward to shake my hand, his left leg raising behind him as a counterbalance to his inclining body. “You must be Birdy.” 

Horrified, I grasp his warm hand, my eyes roaming over his face with that stupid hair clip firmly holding back his bangs and his green eyes examining me, a smile on his face as his dimple deepens. Flustered, I don’t give him my birth name. “A nickname, of course,” I remark inanely. 

“I’m just hoping it doesn’t bode ill for my game today.” His gray pants are matched with a dark blue pullover sweater, a white turtleneck underneath. 

How my mouth continues to work is beyond me, but I throw my head back and laugh loudly. Probably too loudly as I’m feeling a mixture of terror and arousal, and the laughter is decidedly nervous. “I’ve never been a threat to anyone on the golf course,” I comment.

“With grandparents as young as yours, I expected someone younger.” Harry thinks he’s being coy, but my grandmother responds honestly. 

“We’re ancient, Harry, and our Birdie is 31 now. And not getting any younger.” Pointedly, she looks at me as though I had offended her in some way. 

“We’re up,” Gramps points, and we haul our clubs to the first tee. 

“What’s your handicap?” Harry asks as Gramps swings a few times for practice. 

“23,” I announce proudly, on the low end of average. “You?”

“14,” he brags, adding a wink for good measure, an indication that he is aware of his boast. Not that I can complain since I’ve also gloated about my below-average number. He’s too handsome and charming for my comfort, and I engage my attention on my clubs, polishing my driver before withdrawing it from my bag. 

Amiable enough, Harry diverts his focus onto my grandmother, and I’m grateful for the respite to catch my breath. 

“You must go first, Vivienne.”

I want to interrupt and tell him we always go with the oldest first, which is my gramps, but my grandmother has already fallen for Harry’s charm, and she giggles like a schoolgirl as she makes her way to the tee. 

After my grandfather and I have each teed off, Harry prepares for his turn. In those tight golf trousers, his arse is as well defined as the ostentatious naked statue in the fountain at the entrance to the golf club. I find myself unable to stop staring as he bends down to place his tee, and his form when he swings is a thing of beauty. No wonder he has a low handicap. Why couldn’t he be a failure at just one thing in his life? And why couldn’t it be golf? 

Noting where his ball lands, Harry removes his sunnies from the vee of his sweater and slides them over his eyes, shielding his expression. With a nod at the three of us, he twists his body, ready to move on. 

“Shall we?” Gramps gestures, and I hoist my clubs onto my shoulder again, setting off behind the elderly couple who head for a single golf cart. “Sorry, Birdy.” He casually throws over his shoulder as we approach the small vehicle. “We got the last cart. You and Harry will have to walk. But don’t worry. Your grandmother and I will do our best not to burn rubber.” 

If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if my grandparents were trying to play matchmakers. But they wouldn’t have any idea who Harry is. Although maybe it doesn’t matter to them. Perhaps my grandparents just want to pair me up with any Tom, Dick, or ….Harry.

“Mhm. See that you don’t get a speeding ticket, Gramps!” I yell as they take off, leaving Harry and I trailing behind. 

“You seem like a chip off the old block,” Harry jokes as we hike towards the hole. “Get it? Cause a chip is a golf shot.” 

“Oh, I understood the joke, but it was bad,” I groan. “No ifs, ands, or putts about it.” 

His eyes widen. “I see. It’s like that, is it?”

We both giggle, and when he shoves my shoulder at my next golf pun, I wonder if he’s flirting with me. As if Harry Styles needed to flirt with anyone. 

It’s on the fourth fairway that my Gramps gets involved with a joke of his own. “Hey, Harry?”

“Yes, sir?” The polite reply comes as I’m replacing my divot. 

“Why do the golf pros tell you to keep your head down during golf lessons?” 

“I don’t know, Rufus.” Harry withdraws his 3-wood and addresses the ball, shaking his hips in such a way that if my grandparents weren’t around, I’d probably faint. “Why?”

“So you can’t see them laughing.” Gramps guffaws, and Harry shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tilted up as he takes a deep breath and launches his ball closer to the green. 

My grandparents always make me laugh, but today they seem in finer form than usual, as they joke with Harry, my grandmother clearly vamping. Before today, I’ve never wondered if my grandfather was anything other than straight, but the way he touches Harry at every opportunity makes the wheels in my head churn. 

On the 8th hole, Grammy takes a mulligan after her ball sails into the water hazard, just short of making it across. She sighs, pulling another ball from her bag and muttering goodnaturedly to Harry. “Golf balls are just like eggs. They’re white, round, and you need another dozen every week.” 

Harry slaps his knee as he giggles at her pathetic joke. I can almost convince myself that he’s having the time of his life playing golf with these 78-year-olds. He gives every appearance of enjoying the late afternoon game. No wonder no one has anything unkind to say about him. Well, no one he’s met anyway. 

As we walk to the 9th hole, I decide to dive in and bravely ask the question that’s been on my mind for the last two and a half hours. “Why did you join us today?” 

Startled, he twists his head to look at me. “You had three. I was a late single player. The pro added me to your party. Simple.” 

“Okay.” I draw the word out, wondering if I should ask the follow-up question, and when he continues glancing at me curiously, I go for it. “But why do you have a free day today? And why didn’t you bring someone with you?” 

He turns his head away from me, but I still see that left dimple deepen as he shrugs. “I decided on a whim that I wanted to golf in this perfect weather, and my manager was busy preparing for tomorrow night’s show.” Turning around, he walks backwards so he can face me. “But I never thought I’d meet such a fun –” his eyes never leave mine, “and sexy companion.” 

I can feel the red creeping up from my toes through my body to flush my face. How does he do it? Flirting so openly without being gross? If anyone else had delivered that line, I would have gagged. Instead, I pretend that his comment has had no effect on me – like I’m not going to need dry panties before dinner with my grandparents.

“Harry!” My grandfather yells from where he and my grammy have stopped at my ball. “You better watch where you’re going! Sometimes people don’t replace their divots.” 

The musician nods to me courteously as though he hadn’t just made my heart flutter. Turning to face forward, he continues on the pathway where we finish the 9th hole. 

“Birdie,” Grammy stoutly announces to me as she climbs back into the cart. “Your grandfather and I are tired. We’re going to head to the clubhouse and have a drink, but you and Harry should play the back nine.” With that, my grandparents wave to us as their cart drives off towards the start. 

Oh. 

Well. 

That was unexpected. 

This is unexpected. 

Harry has put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Well?” He watches me carefully, and I know the decision to continue is mine. 

“I doubt I’ll get to play with someone like you again, so we might as well continue.” 

“Someone like me? A celebrity?” Seeming genuinely confused, he removes his sunnies and scratches his head near that damn hair clip. 

“A duffer,” I tease.

“If that’s the case, it’s because your beauty has distracted me from my game today.” His eyes twinkle when he makes the comment, and that’s the moment I know the flirting is on in earnest. 

When we reach the 12th green, I can’t stand being so close to him without letting him know I am up for more. As he squares up for his putt, but before he pulls the club back to take the shot, I whisper loud enough for his ears only, “If you miss this putt, I’ll let you kiss me.” He doesn’t hesitate, taking the shot that rolls right at my feet where I’m holding the flag. And yet somehow the ball doesn’t go in. 

“Does that deal count if I accidentally missed?” 

Biting my lip, I tilt my head and observe him. “Hmmm…I’m not sure. It’s kind of offensive that you wouldn’t want to miss it on purpose. I mean, here I am, perfectly kissable. I’m going to say no. It doesn’t count.” 

Stalking towards me, he picks up his golf ball and tosses it to the edge of the green. “How about now?” His voice is a growl, and he’s standing close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from his body. 

Fuck. He’s so hot. Beyond sexy. 

I glance around the course quickly to see if anyone is nearby. Spotting no one, I tilt my head up to him. Harry grabs my chin with two fingers, staring into my eyes before he brushes his lips over mine. The moan that emits from my throat is heartfelt and demands more from him, but he steps back, his hand dropping to his side. 

Hooded eyes rake over me, and he smirks. “You’ve never met a golfer with a more delicate stroke than me.” 

“Promises, promises,” I tut, holding out the flag for him to take so I can putt. 

A few holes later, and all pretense has dropped as Harry rests his hands on my hips while I’m lining up my shot. “Are you sure you know how to hold a shaft correctly?” His voice in my ear is so gravelly that I want to drop onto my knees right there on the fairway and show him exactly how skilled I am at handling a shaft.

“Be careful there, Harry,” I murmur, “You’re like a water hazard. You’ve got me soaking wet.” 

“Fuck.” Stepping back from me, he shakes his head. “How many holes?” 

“Three,” I comment, and my eyes bat of their own accord, I swear! 

“Jesus!” He runs his hand over his face. “You’re like a fairway: short, well-groomed, and a pleasure to hit on.” 

“Are you saying you’d like to improve our stroke game together?” 

“I’m saying that I’m not going to make it back to the clubhouse at this rate.”

“Well…” I approach him, again searching the nearby greens for golfers, “...my golf coach says I have a firm grip. Do you want to see if it’s true?” 

“Birdy…” His voice is strangled as I ease my hand over the front of his trousers, feeling his length where it’s tucked safely high and to the left. The air exits his lungs at a faster velocity than a golf swing. “Get your clubs,” he commands, roughly replacing the putter he’d withdrawn and grabbing my hand. 

Yanking me behind him, Harry leads the way towards the parking lot where he uses an electronic key to open the vehicle and throw in his clubs before grabbing my golf bag and more gently placing it on top of his so that the two golf bags look to be spooning. 

“Get in,” he insists, and I don’t hesitate to scurry to the passenger side. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, my hands in my lap after I’ve buckled the seatbelt. The quivering in the lower part of my body will only be appeased in one way.

“Shit. I’ve no idea,” he sighs, not putting the car in drive. “My hotel is too far.” 

“Switch places with me,” I suggest, knowing exactly where we can go. 

With a single nod, the two of us climb from the vehicle and pass each other silently and aggressively on our way to opposite sides. Buckled in, I back the car from the lot and drive the two miles to my grandparents’ house. 

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” I state. “Open the garage before the neighbors spot us.” I share the code, and Harry follows my directions. Without drawing too much attention, we’ve sequestered ourselves in the garage, with Harry waiting impatiently for me to get out of the car. 

The moment I step from the driver’s side onto the pavement of my grandparents’ garage, Harry approaches me, his hands cupping my face as he devours my lips. I do not hesitate, opening to him as my fingers fumble for the bottom of that fucking blue sweater I’ve been jealous of all afternoon because it gets to hug his curves. As I draw the sweater up, he releases my face to raise his arms over his head, and I don’t hesitate, repeating the gesture with his white turtleneck. 

As soon as his skin is free from the clothing, his mouth crashes back onto mine as his long lush fingers make short work of my white polo. He’s backed me almost to the stairs that lead to the house, and he wraps an arm around my nearly naked back just as I’m about to topple over onto them. 

“Where?” His breath is scented with the mint from his gum, and I feel the waft of it across my cheek. 

My brain scrambles. My grandparents’ house. Quickly I discard the master bedroom and the sofa in the living room. Grasping his hand, I haul us both to the only room that makes sense. Stopping to frantically kiss this amazing man, I reach behind me to unhook my bra, his fingers brushing over my boobs as soon as they are bare. 

When I open the door to our destination, Harry pauses, his eyes widening as he takes in the golf trophies, photos of my grandparents with famous golfers on the paneled walls, and the putting green. Shaking his head, he laughs, and the crinkles at his eyes make my panties even wetter. 

“I like my men like a sand trap: dirty, challenging, and unpredictable.” Although I’ve attempted to make the joke with a straight face, I fail miserably as I dissolve into giggles. 

With a face palm, Harry laughs too, glancing at the putting green. “No way am I fucking on that fake turf. One of us would end up with scraped knees, and I don’t know if I would prefer it be you or me.” 

“No question there,” I purr as I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for the button and zipper on his trousers. “I’ve been drooling for this shaft all afternoon.” 

“Well, I am known for my lengthy club.” The smirk on his face drops away as I free his cock and give it a few strokes before sliding my lips over the end and applying light pressure. Pushing his pants and underpants down his thighs, I reach for his balls. “Oh, fuck,” he sucks in air. “I had planned to wash my balls after the game today, but you’re welcome to….ahhhhhh.” The way the sound escapes his mouth when I do as he suggests and lave his balls with my tongue has me hotter than a July game at a Miami course. 

Returning to his cock, I slide his length as far as my throat will allow, practically unhinging my jaw as I take him in. Closing my lips, I use suction until he grabs my head, pulling my hair to remove me from my current activity. 

When I look up at him, I can see the scar under his chin as he’s staring at the ceiling. He takes a deep breath, and I cannot resist scraping my teeth lightly to see his reaction. It’s instant, as his jaw drops and his eyes connect with mine. Just as I get to the end of his cock again, I make a humming sound, knowing he can feel the vibration on this sensitive body part. 

“Birdy…” he gasps. “I need…” 

Releasing him with a popping sound, I sit back on my knees and grin, rather proud of my ability to reduce this cheeky flirt to two-word sentences. 

“What?” I demand. 

“I need to feel your fringe. Taste it even.” 

Closing my eyes, I shake my head as though I’m disappointed with his golf pun, but it honestly gives a zing to my private parts. 

“Fair enough,” I comment, using my current location to remove his shoes and the rest of his clothing so that he stands before me, naked but for his socks. 

“Shouldn’t that be ‘fairway’ enough?” He giggles, his shaft pointing straight at me. 

I groan. “Oh, man. If I weren’t so hot for you, your bad jokes might just turn me off.” 

“Good,” he smiles, and the dimple deepens until I’m confident I could fit a thousand golf balls, each with their own 381 dimples, inside it. That many dimples all in the same space would be overwhelming. “Now let’s put my wood in your golf bag, shall we?” He holds his hand down to me, and I grasp it so that he can pull me upwards, our tongues tangling like a dust devil. 

Fingers fumbling with the buttons on my skort, Harry moves his lips to my neck. “Why ‘Birdy’?” 

“Seriously?” I scoff. “You want to talk about my nickname now?” 

His luxurious fingers shove my panties and my skort down to my ankles, ignoring my shoes completely as he encourages me to kick off the offending clothing. “Yes please.” 

Nude, I plant my hands on my hips, glaring at him from where he’s squatting on the floor after removing my outfit. “My grandfather scored a birdie every time he took me out with him on the golf course when I was a baby.” 

“Oh,” he pouts. 

“Not as sexy as you thought it might be?” 

“As a story, you really should work on it.” 

“I promise I’ll spice up the story with the next single that joins our foursome,” I simper. A look crosses his face that could be construed as jealousy if one were so inclined. Which I’m not. Because he’s just an afternoon fuck. 

As I start to step past him to the leather sofa, he grabs my thighs and buries his face in my crotch, sniffing deeply. Flabbergasted, I pause, my balance off. 

“Widen your stance,” Harry demands, and when I follow his direction, he uses both hands to part the petals at my entrance. Just before his tongue dives in, he blows a puff of air, and I shiver at the sexiness of the move. 

“Fuck, Harry,” I grab for his shoulder so I don’t sink to the floor. Between his tongue and his teeth, I nearly tip over the abyss, but when he uses both hands, inserting one finger in each of my body’s lower entrances, I come, screaming his name as I yank his hair, accidentally dislodging that damn hair clip which skitters across the wood floor. My orgasm continues as Harry rises, one finger still teasing my clit. 

“You were right,” he whispers to me as I gaze at his glistening face, “three holes left. Now taken care of.” Capturing my lips, he delves inside my mouth, his tongue and finger below taking turns, setting a rhythm that would do well in one of his songs. 

Fuck. I’m weak. 

When my body stops shivering, I use both hands to shove him onto the sofa where he lands with both feet out and his driver in the air. 

“Birth control?” he asks. 

“Taken care of,” I grin. “IUD. But if you want double protection or you don’t trust me…” I gesture towards the rest of the house, trying to figure out where a condom might be hidden in my grandparents’ house. 

“I trust you. No one with that nickname and those grandparents could lie about something like that.” 

With a grin, I concede his point. Besides, my grandparents would flip their lids if I got pregnant without a commitment. 

Slowly, as if I’m lining up a putt, I slide onto him. 

“Mmmmm…that’s a hole to be respected,” Harry murmurs as I descend, and I would laugh if not for the fact that I’m gearing up for my second orgasm. 

“Are you up for some stroke play?” I query as I settle completely on him, my insides stretched but happy. 

“Stroke that stroke, babe.” 

With the steady beat of that Billie Squier oldie in my head, I follow his instructions, lifting myself off his shaft before plunging back down as hard as I can. Just when I’m getting closer, panting as I look to the skies, Harry taps my butt cheek. “Turn around here, love.” 

Settling on the sofa with my rear in the air, I am startled when Harry’s finger circles my asshole, and I wonder if I’m in for a different experience than I had originally expected. He’s too big for my back door without a lot of preparation, and it’s clear he knows it as he settles on wedging a finger there while his cock invades my vagina. Between his cock and his inserted finger, I’m so close to exploding that I slam my body backwards into his until he finally removes the finger, grabs my hips, and pounds into me. 

“Drive into me, Harry!” I scream, recognizing the golf pun after it’s already left my mouth. Biting my lip, I reach in front and play with my clit just as Harry shoots his load into me, and I writhe with my second orgasm, his name on my lips as he falls onto my back. 

Seconds, minutes, decades later, Harry disengages from me. 

“That was pleasant,” he smiles, and I wonder if this is it. He’ll leave me here, his cum dripping from me onto the furniture in my granddad’s golf room. “We should probably get dressed and get back to the course. Otherwise, they’ll send out a search party. If we get back quickly, they’ll think we just took our time on the 18th.” 

Agreeably, I laugh. “I can see it now.” Imitating my grandma, “‘But our baby girl is out there with a handsome stranger! They must be exhausted after 18 holes!’” 

Together, we dissolve into giggles at the innuendo as we sort through the discarded clothing and dress ourselves, making our way back to the garage as we locate our shirts. 

“You better drive us back. I’m likely to get lost in your tall bush.” 

“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. “My grass is perfectly trimmed for the game.” 

“Mhm,” he smirks, “Who’s your caddy?” 

We pull into the parking lot, laughing at our ridiculous puns. Removing our golf bags from the trunk, we make our way into the clubhouse where we quickly locate and join my grandparents. 

“How were the last few holes?” Gramps asks. 

“Pretty good,” Harry grins, glancing over at me. “I got both a Birdy and a hole in one.” 

I want to laugh at his comment, but any suggestion that we did anything other than play golf would get me in trouble, so I simply smile, nod, and announce, “It was quite the round. The best I’ve had in a long time, by par.” 

When everyone at the table howls with mirth, I feel Harry’s hand on my knee as my grandfather speaks up with, “Harry? I think you might be missing a number on your scorecard.” When he winks and gestures towards me, I groan, but my latest lover takes advantage of the moment, holding out his scorecard to me. 

“If you wouldn’t mind…I might need another hole in one the next time I come to town.” 

Reblogs are love. Thank you.

[tunyeta]

Korai Hoshiumi HCS Post-time skip!

Notes: You are his S/O, mostly when he visits other countries for VNL, his brother and mom are here as well, fluff, thought about these at night + with my BFF.

Korai Hoshiumi x Gender-neutral! Reader

☆ Korai is the one to initiate buying little souvenirs on trips!

☆ So whenever Korai leaves for another country because of VNL he would always gift you ref magnets from the trips. You were pretty reluctant at first but in the end, your fridge gets covered by it all.

☆ He’s probably ridiculously wealthy but the souvenirs he gets you are pretty silly, like a PH barrelman, or a retroviewer with all the founding fathers of America.

☆ Korai would definitely sit in the middle of Ushijima and Kageyama on a flight.

☆ Would definitely send a picture of himself doing childish poses with Kageyama and Ushijima in popular landmarks if he convinced them enough.

☆ I’d like to think his wallpaper lock is set as his family, while the home wallpaper is set to him and his S/O hanging out.

☆ Also probably has a photo widget of Hirugami and his dog somewhere on his phone too.

☆ Would probably forget to pack extra boxers, let's be real.

☆ You'd pack him anti-pressure earplugs for his flights and he always wore them, but one time he lost it while on a trip to France. So when he got home he got all mopey and sad about it but you reveal you literally have spares in a drawer.

☆ Jumps and showers you in kisses when he sees you waiting for him at the airport.

☆ If Akitomo found out Korai got a partner, he’d definitely tell their parents ASAP.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t know my little pipsqueak of a brother could pull anyone.”

“SHUT IT AKI, does mom know already?!”

“She does.”

*67 notifications pop out of his mom texting and calling*

“Damn you.”

☆ Pretty humble now that his mom knows. He tells you all embarrassed and upset that she wants to meet you.

☆ You and his mother get along quite well! (Korai probably thought 'Phew, no need to worry after all!')

☆ She shows you baby pictures of Korai, from when he was born to when he first walked. Not gonna lie but he looked like a wee little hatchling from the pictures she has shown.

☆ He literally groans and pleads for his mom to talk about something else, growing obviously red from his light complexion.

☆ Korai holds his mom in high regard so he's glad you both got along.

@tunyeta — 2024 ✧

[turtle-steverogers]

thinking about autistic steve / steve with sensory overload regarding sound, and how he, in the 21st century, starts walking around the tower and his friends with noise cancelling headphones and earplugs to make noise a little more bearable to him. and it takes the other avengers to understand that he can still hear them through whatever's covering his ears, that how good his hearing has become. going from being basically deaf on one ear to great hearing in a very short time makes steve struggle a lot.

i imagine steve really finding comfort in clint and nat, who teach him some sign so they can sit in peace and quiet and have conversations. he also finds a companion in clint, who 100% gets him when it comes to people not understanding why clint turns off his hearing aids sometimes to just. not have to hear so much. just being allowed to rest.

"the world of hearing and noises is exhausting, man."

"yeah.. yeah, it really is."

Autistic Stevie my beloved!!!!

I really love the thought of Clint and him connecting that way, and Clint offering a wordless refuge, or maybe being able to spot before anyone else when Steve is getting overstimulated, because he knows that pinched expression, knows the way Steve is twitching his head every few seconds, overwhelmed, and he will privately sign a little reminder to him to put on his earplugs, or that maybe it's time for his headphones.

I also love the thought of Bucky coming back and learning all of these things about Steve in the context of his autism? Like things he used to just think of "Steve things" actually having a traceable explanation and things he can do to help accommodate Steve when he needs an extra hand!! Bucky always used to carry little helping hand things for Steve, like a sketchbook and some pencils, but now that includes some earplugs and headphones.

Also Bucky giving Steve squeezes when he's overwhelmed >>>>>

[neptuniadoesstuff]

My Reference Sheet of Phen 228.

A "censored" Ref of my ver of Phen 228 (Canon) for my Modern AU aka "Branches of a Paranormal Federation".

(What is censored are the faces & the severed limb as those are where the gøřə is.)

Bio (Major):

|| Code Name: Phen 228 | Aliases: "Watanabe Bird", "The Boiled One", Hakunata (Based on strange written letters that look similar to English) | Year & Place of Discovery: 2003, Pennsylvania (By the Ephrata Branch) | Current Wearibouts: Unknown | Other: Was discovered to have other variants of it whom have somewhat similar abilities although with different out comes | Main abilities: Cognito-Hazardous properties (When looked at, can cause quesdocoma & the manifestation of its being, can't be seen by others, only ones who are effected) | Ways to combat the effects: Wear blue-light glasses & earplugs, must be about 5 feet away from the screen at all cause ||

(Btw this is just info the Ephrata Branch has put down, as I'll be putting my own info here based on my head canons & the design/lore I gave Phen myself for this au. Although the Hakunata part is only for this AU & not the canon lore. This includes the design.)

(WARNING INCOMING! BL00D, GUTS, & GØŘƏ WILL BE HERE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION! FOR THESE ARE THE UNCENSORED REFS + FULL BODY REFS OF PHEN 228!)

(Also... Slight disturbing imagery for the reference photo)

The actual uncensored ref sheet & the full body ref. Yeh uh.. they look pretty messed up lookin but it's clear that Phen rlly isn't supposed to look.. Clean.. (Although I am waiting till the simps arrive.. Which I hope they don't-)

Bio (Written by... an outsider aka me lol)

|| Name: [REDACTED] | Aliases: Hakunata (A nickname given to by his sister) | Gender: Interseggs/Genderless (But is represented as male), He/They/It (Or any Pronouns but those are preferred) | Age: 100? (Not sure, I doubt Phen has a canon age-) | Height: Whatever rlly (But is normally like... REALLY TALL-) | Pride: No Idea. I doubt this spirit demon thing cares about being attracted to anything- | Species: A strange hybrid of a human & fallen angel | Family: A child named "Rei" & some other Phens (Example: Kasinoshi or "Priest) | Personality: Somewhat malicious, is a bit obsessive with a certain family, but seems to... weirdly care about his victims? (Idk its a whole bag of worms) | Occupation: Some false prophet frikker idk. Might've been a war criminal from Japan in a past life (WWII) | Powers: Able to give anyone who looks at it w/o protection pseudocoma & sleep paralysis, also able to communicate with anyone who is affected with their "curse". Can fly apparently (But is pretty lazy & doesn't rlly use their phantom arms to fly at all) | Other (aka unimportant stuff): Prob likes torturing a certain family he effected back in 2003, despises kids (except its own), gets very uncomfortable with anything sus (like me), loves stealing & consuming ppl's spines, prob not understanding how modern tech work, might commit a few war crimes here & there (which is a big nono), & is usually seen indulging himself in some Japanese things bcs it reminds him of the old times (Yes even the modern stuff) ||

& here is the Original/Reference Image!

(Update: fix some stuff in the Extra info thing bcs I don't grammar well.)

Credits lol-

Character: Phen 228 (Belongs to Doctor Nowhere aka Silas) (Although the design of Phen 228 not from the original image belongs to me.)

Art: Mine.

Reference Image Creator: Silas Orion aka Doctor Nowhere.

Program: IbisPaint x.

Bubs' TOS: Plz don't repost/steal, trace, or recolor my art WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! If you do, I'll take yur femur and pelvis.. SO, DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! (The PNS on my blog's pinned post clearly means "Please No Steal" plz follow that rule.) If you do post my art on anything like yur blog or somewhere else (With my permission) PLEASE CREDIT ME!

[carboardserpent]

Next gen headcanons? 🤔

Like, Jackson, Cruz, Tim, Danny, Chase, and Ryan?

Oh boy, that's a few characters. Alright, strap in then. Probably also gonna throw in Bubba because he's my favourite non-main next gen <3

(Humanised, as always)

(Quick disclaimer for this one, none of these are supposed to reflect on the irl racers that gave their names and voices to them - I'm treating these characters as though they're entirely fictional and not based on/inspired by real people. I make my HCs literally just based on Vibes (and RPs))

Jackson Storm:

6'1 and fit AF. Clearly spends a lot of time in the gym toning his body and muscles. He is male model levels of gorgeous. Physically flawless black man <3

Short black dreadlocks dyed blue at the ends.

Aromantic (female-leaning)bisexual.

Autistic.

Ray knew he was autistic before Jackson even knew himself, and is the reason he even got diagnosed in the first place.

One of his most common complaints is still about the reflections of the sun glinting in his eyes. The loud noise of the track still gets to him occasionally, but he has special earplugs to help him deal with it.

Can usually be seen drinking a can of IGNTR's flagship energy drink before a race. It helps him calm down and focus in. His sponsors love it, for obvious reasons.

Any time he's on camera, he acts calm and cool but internally he's freaking out. If they ask something he doesn't expect, he visibly tenses up and flounders for a second as he tries to figure out what to say, even if it was a simple question.

Doesn't do fan meets or signings unless he absolutely has to. Even then he tries everything he can to get out of them.

His physical attractiveness makes his already poor attitude even worse. Doesn't know how to talk to people, but gets all the praise and attention he could ever want online.

Yes, he posts photos of himself on various social media. He wasn't sure at first, but Ray convinced him to start shortly after his debut race, hoping that it would help reassure him and give him a bit of a confidence boost. Naturally, it went a little TOO well...

He's a gamer through and through. In any downtime he gets, he's still topping the leaderboards on just about every popular racing game you can play online. He also enjoys the occasional game of CoD and will verbally rip anyone to shreds if they try to come at him.

DUBSTEP. He loves it. If his skull isn't rattling from absolutely filthy, grimy bass, he's not interested.

So, of course, he has to have an incredible sound system that's probably worth more than the average person's car.

He doesn't watch anime. (Stop asking him if he does) Most of his entertainment comes from Twitch streams.

He streams himself playing Super Corsa 4 any chance he gets. Which isn't often with the packed NASCAR schedule, but he tries his best. His user is UrStormChasing

Still doesn't get along with Tim after their rivalry in training and isn't very good at pretending he does either. Their crew chiefs have to make deliberate efforts to stop them from running into each other before they get into their cars.

Cruz Ramirez:

5'5 with an athletic build. She is a Latina woman with visible abs and she deserves them gdi.

Side-parted brown hair a little shorter than jaw length, perpetually kinda wild looking.

Chaotic lesbian hours!

ADHD

Literally cannot sleep at night without a big, milky mug of coffee.

It's not normal to wake up and go for a run before even having breakfast?

She's teaching Lightning to use social media more regularly (for better or for worse). His homework is to send her a funny meme or video that he found that week.

The result of this can sometimes be catastrophic. She'll never be able to unhear him uncertainly attempting to use outdated slang.

Almost every race, there's someone complaining about how she doesn't weigh enough and it's unfair to the rest of them. So she forces them to watch as race officials put extra weights in her car.

Has cussed Danny out in Spanish across Pit Road and will do it again if he carries on-

Is probably the only person on Team Dinoco that is actually nice to Cal and doesn't try to tease him. They get along well.

Tim Treadless:

6'0 with a broad frame and light muscle tone.

Tanned skin and tousled brown hair.

Straight ally.

Just call him Mr. Charismatic, everyone loves him.

Everyone except Jackson, that is. Jackson is the only person who brings out his anger to the point of wanting to throw hands.

Has a wife and a baby, bc of course he does.

One of those guys some people hate for being irritatingly perfect. Usually people that don't actually know him.

Has type 1 diabetes and a bad nut allergy.

Was pulled out of a race at the last minute when he went into anaphylactic shock - the entire race was almost stopped when people started to whisper that it was foul play. The race went on, but the only reason for Treadless' absence was that he had to be pulled for "unforseen medical issues".

Some of the other racers still blame Jackson, who actually had nothing to do with it.

Danny Swervez:

5'10 and fairly slender. Not a lot of bulk to him.

Tanned skin (he's Latino) and short black hair.

Cishet male.

This man is FULL of himself. What an attitude.

Genuinely a good racer, but not many people like him.

He's not a good guy. He's given Cruz some trouble for being a woman, though after she embarrassed him by publicly cussing him out in Spanish, he's learned to keep his unpopular opinions on her to himself.

Isn't exactly what we would call "faithful".

But hey, at least he doesn't cheat on the track (smh)

Has just as little respect for the older racers as Jackson, but is less vocal about it.

Is very bitter about Jackson and Tim being more popular than him, yet still does nothing to change himself for the better.

Has at least attempted to physically fight with other drivers that messed with him on the track several times.

Chase Racelott:

5'9 with a build somewhere between Danny and Tim.

Pale skin and dirty-blonde hair.

Straight ally.

Generally a pretty likeable guy. Not as well-loved as Tim, but he has a good amount of pretty dedicated fans.

Makes jokes about being single/available.

Has pretty average performance on the track, not great, but not poor.

Fairly high energy, he gets along well with Cruz.

Probably one of the best with kids. Has a lot of younger fans because of how he interacts with them during meets and signings.

One of the few who will try not to leave until he's spoken to every fan who wanted to meet him, no matter how long it takes.

Often seen hanging around with Ryan - the two of them cause some pretty good natured trouble together, often involving pranks on the other racers.

Ryan "Inside" Laney:

5'11 with a broad build similar to Tim.

Mixed race (¾ Caucasian, ¼ African American), with short black hair.

Closeted bisexual.

Friendly, but not really a standout character as far as the fans are concerned.

Kind of cocky, but in a cool way.

Has a girlfriend who travels with him.

Agent of chaos when he spends too much time with Chase. Don't turn your back on him.

Bubba Wheelhouse

Absolutely massive 6'2 gentle giant

Another gorgeous black man (fight me), his skin tone isn't quite as dark as Jackson's

Closeted homosexual

Has a fake relationship with a lesbian woman who's actually just his best friend (the racing world is scary and the US South probably wouldn't love an openly gay driver)

Kids ADORE him. Him and Chase are the drivers with the most kid fans.

Throws a football around with fans over the catch fence during rain delays (this one is based on the real Bubba Wallace bc its wholesome af)

Gets asked all the weird gay questions by everyone in the friend group. (Ex. "Is it gay if...?" "What is X actually like?")

Legit just trying to mind his own business, he doesn't want any part of drama or rivalries.

Occasionally finds himself roped into girl talk if the guys have their S/Os around. They're very excited to include him. He's too polite to decline.

[the-qalankhais-sweetheart]

To all my fellow AuDHD, ADHD, and Autistic mutuals and anyone out there.

If anyone tells you "you can't have sensory accommodations in the real world, you gotta suck it up buttercup," tell them that an AuDHD SLP-Intern you know was allowed to borrow the kids' sensory wiggle cushion to sit on in order to correct understimulation and be able to freaking focus enough to make progress on an assessment report. And you know what?

It worked.

The OT I work with suggested it, and I couldn't believe I never thought to ask...but it's because even I, a very out-and-proud ND who often openly stims, still has protective masking mechanisms and a tendency to self-gaslight that "I don't really need that".

Therefore, you tell them that an SLP-Intern, one of the people that is supposed to help treat communication disorders and help their fellow autistic, ADHD, and AuDHD people develop stronger communication skills and method that work for them needs sensory breaks, sensory accommodations, and written and visual directions to function.

And she may not be perfect, or the Best SLP Ever™, but no one is.

And she's highly valued by her employer.

You tell them it's doable. There's a reason for the phrase "reasonable accommodations", because plenty of them ARE. Sure, your employer may not be able to give you an extra month to turn in a report (though depending on your field and the procedures involved, perhaps they CAN - this is very field specific, of course) but they sure as shit can let you turn down lights, sit on sensory cushions and use sound filtering earplugs to do what you need to do. It's not obtrusive.

If my company can do it, other companies have no excuse.

Don't let anyone tell you common sense accommodations are a hassle, needless, or "distracting".

Your needs matter, they are valid, and they are NOT a hindrance to your employer.

[giafaeryprincess]

I wrote in my journal. It's an old leather journal of my boyfriends. Sorry I know that's not vegan but it is recycling of a sort. I forget to mention my favorite color is also deep forest pine tree green. My favorite pens are precise point pens and I have the green one currently. I wrote about stressors with my boyfriend. Then I read him what I wrote. I wrote about how I feel he isn't considerate of my mental illness disability, when it comes to him wanting to progress and travel in life. I have my support system here, family, gym, behavioral mental health services. I don't want to travel. Progressing, he wants to get a shop or build a home and have an online shop and travel. I said I can't perform normal job duties due to my psychological inability. But I can love him at home, make food, wash dishes, sweep the floor, organize clothes, take out trash, do laundry, and be his gal. He said he'd sacrifice anything for me. Even his dreams of traveling. He told me, "id sacrifice anything for you. That's what true love is."

Omg I was so not expecting that response from him. I am so... relieved and released from my burden of self shame.

I admit when I was very mentally ill I worked at mcdonalds. They did not have me work with the customers and there was another disabled employee working there in the back too. I was able to prep the apple pies, strawberry and cream pies, prep the parfaits (often added extra berries for the customers) and mop and sweep and do dishes. It was hard work truly lol. it was taxing on me psychologically, spiritually, and physically. I was terrified of the fire extinguisher for some reason. Thought it might explode or signified my head exploding like an atom bomb somehow. At the time I was not on anti psychotics. I often talked to myself out loud there too~while working, I feel like I was a little weird kid inside an adult woman's body. Calling myself "doody" and just making stuff up in my head all the time. I thought people were constantly signaling to me in some energetic or real way, and I had to obey them. How strange am I. I thought I was humanity's dog. I thought I was Harley Quinn. I'm not. I felt deep love for everyone there and thought we were family. I even sent them flowers when I had to quit.

I am happy that I am on abilify now, an anti psychotic. And luvox which helps with depression and OCD intrusive thoughts.

My hands are slowly healing , can you believe it?

do you think I'm autistic?

When I sat at a fancy family dinner for moms birthday last February, I could barely make eye contact or chat with anyone. My hands were trembling and legs constantly shaking. It was my extended sophisticated &educated family and my boyfriend and parents. I am not socialized at all.

I used to be highly sensitive to light and sound. I would wear earplugs constantly at work or while walking to gym or the therapist. I felt the beep of machines or noises from TV or radio go straight to my heart in a harsh manner. Also not to mention people's voices and the click clack of any machine.

That has all dimmed down since being with my boyfriend. I amazingly don't even wear ear plugs to sleep anymore. I've become a better sleeper and accustomed to constant noise in the background. It doesn't bother me, barely at all. Though I do love/adore silence.

My boyfriend is like my mother. She needs background noise to sleep. She sleeps with TV on. I used to think my mom was communicating with heavenly light angels in that way. electricity is intense.

I believe we are each a soul and every soul is in need of healing. I believe manmade electricity helps us communicate...but , it doesnt quite emit the same frequency as our bodies and souls do and our holy innate ability to communicate with all creation.

I believe in light pollution. It's not good for us. We are each light beings and infused with divinity. But there are so many bright flashy lights that overstimulate and overwhelm our souls. Manmade electricity is desensitizing to our sacred wholesomeness. Of course we need to see in the dark though. But wouldn't it be cool if humans could evolve to see better in the dark through our own innate spiritual and scientific ability eventually?

Also before I end this tumblr entry. I wanna say I love pastel colors. All pastel colors. My boyfriend says my aura is seafoam green. I ordered, instead of pale pink, a minty light heathery green cardigan. I feel like it's more mature and suits me more.

Also I love the colors green, pink, and orange together. Something so fitting and summery, almost tropical about it.

I'm really excited my sacred friend on Tumblr may be crocheting me a colorful blanket. That makes me feel so precious and valued and calm. I just want her to know any colors she chooses is a blessing and I am immensely grateful.

Also another mutual of mine said she'd send me something. Her art is so beautiful I am absolutely amazed she is cool with me. I ordered something off her Etsy today. Her art is so gentle and cutesy and she's a bright light in my Tumblr life.

And of course so are you.

[flare-dragon]

I thought of what feels like a kinda funny Homestuck AU: Deafswap (or just Deafstuck)

Basically, instead of characters wearing glasses and being blind/low vision, they're various levels of deaf (and some would wear hearing aids)

So, with John and Jake being basically blind as a bat without their glasses, would have moderate-severe/severe hearing loss (and would use hearing aids regularly)

Jade would have moderate loss, and would mostly rely on lip reading (but I could imagine her picking up some kind of sign language)

Jane would be mild/moderate (I see her glasses as being akin to reading glasses/"old person blindness", but her having glasses from birth and being Crockerbert means vision wasn't a strong suit anyhow), and would have subtler hearing aids and use lip reading where she can (I'm...not sure why she wouldn't really know much sign, but something something mainstream habitat/class compared to the others something something batterwitch)

Dave and Dirk swear their hearing is fine ("EB: so why do you wear those lame earbuds all the time? EB: don't you know you look like a douche with them?"), but they don't even know if that's true or not. Turns out, their hearing is within average levels. They just have auditory processing disorder and the earbuds help for some reason)

Sollux is half-deaf, with one ear perfectly within average levels (perhaps sensitive?), and the other just as deaf as it gets (just low frequencies at super high levels). It very much disorients him at times.

Terezi...I have no idea. In this AU, she should become completely deaf due to Vriska's "Make Her Pay", but she was blinded by the Alternian sun. Maybe there's a creature or plant that, if you stand too close to it, your hearing just gets eviscerated? But yeah. She uses her nose and tongue to hear people. "But what about lip-reading?" This is absolutely funnier.

Vriska would have mild loss and would do everything she could to mask it. She'd still have glasses - since vision 8fold - but they'd just be aesthetics. When the cue-ball blows up and she loses the vision 8fold, that ear gains moderate loss, which she still refuses to tell people to the very end.

Equius isn't deaf at all. He just likes wearing ear muffs because protection against robot construction/destruction noises. They're also notably scuffed.

Eridan is also not deaf. Instead, he has a bunch of ear bling that comes close to looking like he's wearing hearing aids but definitely isn't. For some reason, he still wears those glasses of his.

Feferi isn't deaf by the classical definition, but her hearing is definitely different to land dwellers due to spending all her time in the water. She wears fancy-looking earplugs when she's out of the water since her hearing is extra sensitive out of the water.

(If anyone wants the dancestors and guardians, send an ask/reply/tag~ ^^)

[cowboygreeting]

𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚒. 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚒. 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

cw: drug mention

Canvas saddle bag. Mnemosyne steno pad – A5, of course. Two LEUCHTTERM1917 Drehgriffel – ballpoint pens, black and red ink, moss and orange barrels. Extra-firm Blackwing pencil. Steel Blackwing pencil sharpener. Travel-sized Neutrogena Norwegian hand cream, half-empty. 16oz water bottle, insulated, with a little sippy straw. Loop earplugs, case hooked onto one of the straps. Vape. Vape charger. Extra juice cart. Protein bar, in case he's hungry. Two extra protein bars, in case someone else is hungry. No cellphone, not allowed that here, but his Discman and his earbuds fit inconspicuously enough, so he slides them in as well. He can wear them for the walk over. It might help to soothe his nerves a little.

He still has two hours before the orientation starts. So at least one and a half before he's reasonably allowed to leave his room. And hypothetically, he could leave his room at any time, he doesn't think they lock them in at night; it would be nice, maybe go for an early morning stroll — early, early morning stroll — hit his vape (he's not about to test the smoke detector sensitivity on his first night, thank you) in peace and try to stop his chest from thudding like it's been since he'd arrived, but — he hasn't. Nobody's told him the rules, and if there's one thing Seth likes, it's guidelines. Acceptable parameters. Or something to gauge off of — someone else to make the mistake, ask the question first. He will if he has to, but if he doesn't have to —

— well. The time passes anyways. He fixes his hair in the mirror twice, combing the pomade through and fussing with it until it looks bad enough that he has to take a do-over – Blind Barber, for the record. Smells like amber and tonka. Delicious. He loves the notes of almond. Leaves a little earlier than he told himself he would to give Rohan a little wake up call; he yanks the blanket off the bed like he did when they were in college, and tosses a bar at his head, only wincing a little when it actually hits him. It's soothing and familiar enough that, for a moment, when he slips his earbuds in and starts down the hall, it feels a little more like a university dorm than it does a hospital wing.

The feeling carries him through the door and into a chair with an empty seat beside it. His bag lands in the seat next to him, which he hopes his colleagues take as a hint, because it's never stopped feeling embarrassing to be an adult saying sorry, saving this for someone, but he is, so. He pulls his notepad and pens from his bag, lays them out on the table in front of him, and dates the first page, ORIENTATION in big block letters at the top. He's one of the first, and only pulls his earbuds out and shuts his Discman off as more of the others start filing in. The room starts to swell with sound and movement — just shuffling and murmurs, but it's enough for the wind to fall from his sails completely when he raises his head and starts looking around.

Not a lot of familiar faces. Some too familiar, but impossible to place. Enough to give him the lightheaded, dizzy feeling that's plagued him — most of his life, but flares any time anyone at the Foundation has him doing anything but minding his own business. Ro's explained the difference between amnestics and dissociatives a million times, but the shit they dose them with just feels like ketamine with tendrils. And, God, are people talking already? It's all ringing in his ears and the RBF he knows he's making and wishes he wasn't – eye contact and smile, goddammit – he'd to stop his lip from twitching first. It takes him a second. He's used to it. Hopefully, the smile that follows – once he feels like a person again – isn't as alarming as it feels.

Rohan's filled the seat beside him at some point during his little episode, slung his bag on the back of his seat, and between the jab at his ribs and the water bottle he's retrieved for Seth, he's able to check back in, with enough time to start sketching down names and impressions — chicken scratch that can't be read over his shoulder and an inconsistent shorthand that'd be harder to decode than it's worth if they could, but the sounds of pen on paper is unmistakable. He watches for people's reactions to the fact of his note-taking. Sorry, folks. That's what he's here for. Studying you.

God. Do any of these people want to be here?

It's almost a comfort, the grimness emanating from so many corners of the room. The assurance he's not the only one with concerns, and the — freedom from being the biggest buzzkill of the pack. He might be sour on the assignment, but he can sit through an orientation like a professional, more than — the operatives among them especially — seem to be able to manage. A kick under the table seems to signal his turn and he refreshes his smile, fully human and mostly authentic this time – trying to be, at the very least.

"Hey everybody! I'm – Cowboy Greeting?" It's half a question when he says it, call sign still foreign and gaudy in his voice. "But Seth's fine, whatever you prefer. It's, uh – well. I'm looking forward to getting to work with all of you; most for the first time, I believe, though I know I have one or two past co-conspirators in the room."

The chuckle he chases that with is half-hearted, maybe more artificial than the overhead LEDs, and painfully social worker-coded. Jesus Christ. And his mouth is even drier, almost as dry as the room. A fucking mess. A debacle, no saving it. "I'm a junior researcher, currently under AEED.. I haven't been here long, but I've bounced between a few different departments and facilities as part of my work — kind of big-picture policy review? Are people doing what they're supposed to do, do we want them doing what they're supposed to be doing right now, looking at outcomes, that sort of thing. My background prior to starting with the Foundation was in social work and nonprofit policy, so."

Definitely the most long-winded description of paper-pushing legitimacy-bestowing bullshit he could give — and maybe that would've been a better approach for some of his new colleagues, but he's never been in the business of giving his bosses a reason to eliminate his position, and he's not about to start.

"Anyways. Again. Really excited to work with all of you. And if anyone's looking for a gym buddy for their time here, definitely hit me up. Know that's gonna be my first stop after we're done the official tour."

First stop. Definitely. Right after a vape break. He's going to need it.

[zora-ark-067]

Zora! I have five extra tickets~!

Would you like to come to my concert tonight?!

@we-shine-like-stars

I… unfortunately, I don’t think I can…

It’s the full moon, and I have a werezork housemate, and neither of us want anyone to potentially get hurt!

And besides, ze doesn’t have earplugs that fit for the full moon…

So… unfortunately, that’s a no…

[schoolbusgraveyard]

Do you have any Headcanon about Ashlyn?

(It's not for nothing, but now I feel very sorry for her, poor Ash..., leave the girl alone, Red!, she is already carrying a lot, at any minute it will become canon that she cries in front of others out of desperation)

Ashlyn needs a nice and long break. Please. Let her rest.

Some of the ones that I can think of off of the top of my head that I've got are...:

Loses speech/experiences verbal shutdowns every so often. She knows a few tiny bits of ASL during this, but if she's having a full autistic shutdown/that's the source of it, she can't always remember/grasp what she's trying to say and will just type it instead. Usually, what she says during this time period will be as simplified as she can make it. She doesn't like anyone outside of her immediate family (Emma and Mike) seeing her when this happens, though. She can technically talk during these periods, but it's stressful for her/can overwhelm her and agitate her pretty fast.

Takes her earplugs out to sleep most nights (the exceptions being when she's too overwhelmed, when she's in a new place, and when she just... forgets until she rolls over); when we see her jolting upright in bed in episode 2, she isn't wearing them. But at the hotel with Taylor, she is--and in the most recent free episode, she is. But I think she would find them to be a bit difficult sensory-wise to sleep in.

Usually prefers foods with more bland flavors and consistent textures. Honey cornbread is a same/safe food, though. Doesn't try new foods/drinks often (and is extra hesitant if her dad is trying to get her to try them, especially after the pickled egg incident).

Loves parallel play with people she's used to; if it's someone new, she can't really focus all that well. Once she got used to the other kids being in her life (and house) more, as long as things were kind of quiet, she could just... Focus easily.

Prefers listening over talking. She'll give input occasionally, or give small noises, nods, etc. to let the other person know she's listening, but. Aiden can ramble for days, and she'll just sit there and listen.

Doesn't mind small bits of physical contact occasionally, and loves pressure stim. It's one of the most soothing things to her. But she does prefer spending time with someone over physical contact (I think lilredbeany actually confirmed this? At least said her love language is "quality time"; I'd have to go through my screenshots whoops).

She specifically asked the teachers at her ballet classes/the studio which days had smaller attendance numbers. And then chose those days.

On the note of ballet, whenever the teacher offers a correction, she waits for the end of class, and then writes it down in her phone's notepad and works on it at home. She doesn't inherently strive for perfection, but she does want to be good at it--it's something she loves.

[girlreviews]

Review #293: Last Splash, The Breeders

FUUUUUUUCK I love this record, but it permanently damaged the hearing in my right ear. I caught their show at Blackheath Hall in 2005. I put myself right at the front because I really loved them that much and I wanted — no, needed — to feel the heaving guitar in my chest, it felt like, to even continue on. I was seventeen so you know, everything felt a bit extra. I might as well have been hugging the PA system. Anyway, I didn’t anticipate what would happen during the part in Cannonball where Kim sings (yells) “WANT YOU, LITTLE CUCKOO” into the harmonic mic with all that distortion. Yeah, it’s loud. It’s so loud. My eardrum burst. I’ve had tinnitus ever since. My poor left eardrum suffered the same fate two weeks later at the Reading Fez (RIP), during a Mew show. Respectable, but so much less cool than its audio peeper partner in crime. Wear earplugs my friends. It’s not a joke.

Kim Deal founded The Breeders while The Pixies were on hiatus. Well that’s not true, she had been doing both but never able to focus on The Breeders, until 1993 when went Frank Black abruptly announced The Pixies hiatus live during an interview without informing the other band members first. The hiatus was kind of due burnout from recording three albums in two years and touring the hell out of them. Really though, Kim was not getting along with Frank. Here’s the thing — nobody really gets along with Frank. I love the Pixies. I do. But I will get into a fist fight with anyone who wants to insist that they’re better than The Breeders. They’re not. And the thing is, everyone has listened to The Pixies, while most of those same people haven’t given Kim and her band the same time of day. And you know why that is? Because they’re women who are playing heavy rock music. That’s all there is to it. I won’t hear anymore about it, I won’t say anymore about it and I’m not gonna fucking argue with you or anybody else about it. I’m right. Frank Black is a man, he fronts a band, so he gets paid more attention and listened to, and his shitfuck behavior gets dismissed as creative genius. The songs are great but that doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole, Frank! I’ll die on this hill but I’ll also throw hands before I do. Come at me.

I present to you, No Aloha, which actually, beautifully illustrates my point. It is also both beautiful and knockout punch effortlessly cool. It’s dreamy, and also like “we’re here to fuck shit up”. How can I express that it’s lovely and also ass kicking in its vague but biting commentary on being a woman in the music industry, and trying to make it in a band made up of all women (I think they’ve had a dude drummer in their line up from time to time to be fair, but still). It’s about how people that gave her the time of day during her Pixies tenure don’t give a shit about her now “No bye, no aloha, gone with a rock promoter�� and how the perils of womanhood impact her creative output “motherhood means mental freeze, freezeheads, no aloha”. Think about what no aloha means. No hello. No goodbye. The disrespect. Ugh. Fuck yes to putting this out there unabashedly.

Obviously, Cannonball, the song that exploded my right ear, is iconic. If you don’t immediately recognize its bassline then I regret to inform you that you need to brush up on your general pop culture knowledge and you stand literally no chance of ever placing at any kind of trivia night. But most importantly, where have you been, and what have you been doing? And are you okay? Genuinely, you’re missing out. The whole thing about them is that musically they are just making some NOISE, and rocking so hard, but Kim’s voice is also so gentle and smooth. Like warm molten wax, or thick maple syrup and butter soaking into a perfect pancake. And she’s harmonizing with her own twin sister, who has the same voice? It’s too many textures but they’re polar opposites. It overwhelms and soothes at the same time. It’s quite an experience. So get it in your ears already.

There are some really lo-fi dulled down tracks, that are really tender and only a band of women could make them. Do You Love Me Now? Literally a low energy bass-led ballad earnestly asking someone if they want to get back together. It’s heart on sleeve girl bravery: I still love you and I don’t care if this doesn’t work out for me, I’m gonna say it. Such a poignant question, followed by a command:

“Does love ever end?

When two hearts are torn away?

Or does it go on?

And beat strong anyway?

You’ve loved me before

Do you love me now?

Come on come on come back to me

Right now”

It finishes with this cascade of harmonies. And I adore it.

My favorite track, and favorite story. Drivin’ on 9. A little ditty! Who doesn’t love a ditty? Again I need to talk about Kim’s voice. It’s like. It’s like. What is it like? When you toast a marshmallow and then squish it between a graham cracker and melted chocolate. It’s like, a smooth whiskey, probably (I don’t like whiskey). It’s like a tiny bird just landed on your hand for the briefest moment. It’s so delicate and precious and you don’t know how such a voice comes out of anyone’s mouth, but especially not hers, because she’s so tough and cool. The strings in the song make me want to die in the best way. Like when people say they died and went to heaven. They pluck it AND they use the bows. Why do I love it so much? Probably because it’s a song about driving and thinking. That’s my favorite thing to do.

“Drivin’ on 9

Lookin’ out my windowsill

Wonderin’ if I want you still

Wonderin’ what’s mine”

I last saw them play at Cannery Ballroom, and the most wonderful thing(s) happened. Firstly, they played this track, so I was happy to begin with. But there was some issue, like one of the violins was missing or broken or not able to be mic’d up correctly or something, I forget. So, Kelley Deal SANG the violin solo. And got it dead on. I cried. These women are just the coolest to ever do it.

I write these reviews because I fundamentally have a problem with the makeup of music critics being made up of men. And I notice looking back how these records and tracks are interconnected with trash men who have acted trash to me or others. I have things to say. I take issue with how they’re written as though their subjective opinions are gospel to be consumed as objective fact. This dynamic can make or break someone’s career when it’s their art and creative output that they’ve poured their heart and soul into. It’s no coincidence that music overall, but rock and alternative music in particular is made up of majority white men, too. Some with self-proclaimed “good taste” can just label it good or bad when it’s not necessarily made for someone that looks like them. These reviews are my experience and my opinion and it’s okay with me if you do or don’t agree, if you love a record that I hate, or if you hate a record I love. But more voices are important and remembering that they’re subjective opinions is pretty fucking important. Hearing someone’s passion (or lack of) about a record is more valuable than hearing their self-importance or gravitas. The Rolling Stone Top 500 is fundamentally flawed in how it’s compiled because of who it’s compiled by, and so I’m deconstructing it one review at a time, noting that as a white woman, the addition of my voice isn’t the full answer or even a big part of the answer. But like I said, I have things to say, and I hope if you have things to say, whoever you are, you’ll share too. But here we are: it’s just proving my point. I’ll be writing one review of The Breeders, but two for The Pixies.

I’m just doing what Kim did when she got sick of the bullshit with Frank Black and The Pixies and decided to do it her way. Nowhere near as loud, nowhere near as cool, and I expect your eardrums will survive my reviews in tact.

Signing off with these words from my favorite “girl” band:

“I see a boy I know

His hair's on fire

The whole world I discovered

If you're so special, why aren't you dead?

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

Wave bye bye

Cus it ain’t never coming down now”

[angiethewitch]

hi i am enamored by your sounds of life post. i grew up not being able to hear much or at all and now after a surgery i can hear with crystal clarity. all of the frequencies high and low distant and near. i think i felt just as happy as you did initially but it didn't last very long, i started to become very irritated and depressed.. you can't just turn the sound off, everything makes noise, the wind makes noise and you can't even see the wind, im surprised we can't hear the roar of the sun. sleeping was difficult, reading was difficult, *thinking* was difficult.. even in the quietest places like a library with only two people inside, every page turn, every slight weight shift leaving the wood in chairs creaking.

i don't mean to worry anyone, i wear a combo of earplugs & sound suppressing earmuffs when I'm not out and about now and i feel better mostly. i feel a combo of both jealous that i didn't get to feel as joyful for as long as you have AND super happy you weren't as affected as me, but maybe you did feel something similar and just keep it private because it doesn't dominate how you feel as a whole. i guess i just want to know if you experienced anything similar?

i didn't mean for this to affect anyone negatively so if you don't want to post it that's ok, if you still want to answer just call out the hearing anon thank you for reading

hey, im sorry your experience has been bad. I do get you, im autistic and sometimes it does get too much, and I suppose im lucky in a sense because if I get overwhelmed I can just switch my hearing off. obviously switching it off comes with its own problems, but it can help with the sensory overload.

I suppose I don't really talk about it because im just so grateful i can hear after I spent 24 years in a muffled world. ive been hit by a car twice because I couldn't hear them. I couldn't appreciate all the sounds my little cat made. before my rats died, I never got to hear them make all the noises they do until I got aids. I spent my childhood having people tell me I just wasn't listening, people calling me stupid and slow. so now I can hear, im embracing the positives of the experience. there are certainly downsides, like sensory overload and finding noises that set my autism off and I suffer from migraines anyway so the extra flow of information sets them off occasionally and that's difficult...but I spent so long not being able to hear and experience the laughter of my friends, my husbands heartbeat, never being able to appreciate the subtler sounds of life, always missing out on conversation, that I choose to focus on the good. im so glad I can hear now and experience the soundscape this world has to offer me.

[sims-and-counting]

Courtyard Cafe, San Sequoia

Jeb: So you’re sure she’s not listening...

SG: I’m sure! Savvy’s just sitting close enough to look like she’s chaperoning and close enough to warn us if anyone we know walks by. But she’s got earplugs in to be extra safe. We’re practically completely alone!

Jeb: Fantastic. I’m so glad we can have this special time together, I just wish we could be a little more... private, if you know what I mean...

SG: Me too! But we’ll be married soon, I hope, and then we can have all the alone time we want.

[cornfields-td-nonsense]

i kinda wanna know more of esther as a character, how her personality differs from zeeks, how her farmgirl brain works, etc. it would also be cute to see if the siblings have any quirks they share

Yesss an excuse to talk about the character that kicked this whole thing off! You will (probably) not regret this.

Alright y'all might have seen that character ref sheet I made of her a little while back. It was made back when I was first creating her (before most of the nautilus cast even existed) and I'm thinking of redoing it, just to keep it up to date. There haven't been any super drastic changes but I wanna make sure it's all accurate. Anyway, Esther time!

(This turned into a life story recap so im putting it under a readmore so it doesn't clog ur feed :P)

Like her older brother Ezekiel, Esther was born and raised on a farm far from the alien world of the suburbs, by Mary and Patrick Miller (bonus points to anyone who can guess who the parents are named after). And, like Zeke, Esther was taught some... regressive values by her father. She was described as a 'free spirit' as a child - she couldn't sit still, she'd hurt herself while climbing trees or playing with the animals and brush it off like it was nothing, and she seemed to have an endless well of energy and enthusiasm for pretty much anything. But as time went by, Patrick decided that these traits had stopped being cute or endearing, as he viewed her free-spirited nature as something to grow out of. And quickly.

When Esther and Zeke were still young, but old enough to work with food without injuring themselves, Mary would allow them to help her in the kitchen, preparing meals and baked goods. It was some great and valuable bonding time for the siblings, and for them and their mother. But then Zeke turned thirteen and Patrick decided that just like that, it was time for him to become a man - and as he saw it, men certainly should not waste their time in the kitchen. The more the siblings grew older, the more it felt to both of them - Esther especially - that they were being raised individually by their parents. Patrick taught Zeke to toughen up and act more like the future 'man of the house' should, and Esther was taught domestic chores by Mary. Both of them had to 'know their place', but Esther always felt like her mother's heart wasn't in it. She didn't show nearly the same passion in teaching Esther to sit still, smile, and speak when spoken to, as Patrick showed when teaching Zeke how to hunt. (He never talked about what happened on these hunting trips, and Esther never asked. She got the feeling he didnt want to talk about them.) Neither Mary nor Esther were happy with their place, and though they never spoke about it, there was a sort of camaraderie between them, an unspoken understanding that they were in the same boat.

Then Zeke found out from his permitted 10 minutes of television per day that there was going to be this new show called Total Drama. And everything changed.

Esther actually helped her brother audition - they both worked together to make their father extra happy so he'd be more likely to say yes. Esther tried extra hard to do all her chores to perfection, didn't complain once, and almost forgot what the sound of her own voice was like. Patrick said it was the most well-behaved he'd ever seen her. (She had to accidentally-on-purpose burn the food and knock over the milk jug the week after to make herself feel better.) And she even held the camera to record Zeke's audition tape.

They... probably should have taken the fact that Zeke accidentally shot Mary with a fake arrow as a bad omen, and not sent in the tape. That's what Esther thought later, anyway.

The episodes air and Zeke is the first boot. Patrick is not happy about this. What followed was Patrick spending the rest of the day at the nearest available phone, making a series of long angry phone calls to the producers of the show, while Mary and Esther go about their day wearing earplugs.

I should mention that Esther was twelve at this time, soon to turn thirteen, and she was kind of dreading her birthday. Given how much had changed when Zeke hit this milestone, she didn't want to think about what would happen if the same was in store for her.

Turns out not much was different, to her relief. She was sent on more errands out of the house, but that was pretty much it.

This marked the point of Esther spending more and more time outside of the house, always returning home late and having some excuse in her back pocket. Being at home was just... too complicated. With Zeke gone, tensions were rising, and she did not want to be there when they boiled over.

Spending more time out of the house also gave Esther ample opportunity to snag more time watching TD. She managed to watch the first two full seasons while sitting in a 70s themed diner with a tiny little TV set that happened to play a lot of Total Drama. And, like literally every other preteen/early teen girl watching TDI, she had a crush on Gwen. Watching the show was the starting point for her figuring out she was bisexual, which was a whole journey in of itself.

Not only that, but watching the girls on the show helped Esther question what Patrick had instilled in her. These girls were strong, and cool, and skilled, and smart. The final four were two boys, two girls. The final two was a boy and a girl. They were equals, something that wouldn't have been revolutionary to your average viewer, but was utterly earth-shattering to Esther.

Then after TDA, Zeke returned for a little while and he seemed... different? But he was still Zeke and Esther was just happy to see him.

And then he got called back.

And then World Tour happened.

And Esther watched the whole thing unfold in that 70s-style diner, watching everything her brother went through on that tiny little television set while surrounded by people who had no idea who she was.

...

Okay that was a downer so have a few light hearted Esther facts to wrap this thing up

- She had a pet horseshoe when she was five. She tied twine around it like a leash and dragged it along the ground behind her. She named it Harry.

- Her favourite colour is green.

- She used to go digging for buried treasure out in the fields when she was young. It got so bad that her parents thought there was a mole infestation. She did find a few old coins, a bottle and a handful of animal bones, so that was pretty cool.

- She and Zeke used to play 'the corn chip game'. The idea was that you would take it in turns to eat from a plate of corn chips, only taking a small handful at most each turn, and the person who ate the last chip was the loser. It would get very competitive, and made a single plate of chips last hours. No joke. You were technically allowed to break the chips to create more, but you had to do a forfeit if they broke (usually stuff like: kiss the ground, say the ABCs while standing on your head, drink pond water).

[nyaagolor]

Hello, this is a really cool blog you mods are running. I wanted to ask this question; do you have any headcanons involving the dog people of Paldea. Arven is 900% a dog person and already got a few headcanons revolving his Mabosstiff, but if possible, could you provide a couple headcanons involving the other dog people and their dog pokemon (which include Nemona - Lycanroc , Ryme - Houndstone, Tyme - Lycanrocs, Clavell -Houndoom, Giacomo - Mabosstiff, Mela - Arcanine & Houndoom, Ortega - Dachsbun, Eri - Lucario, etc.) Sorry for the long post and thanks if you answer!

Under the cut bc it got long

Slight disclaimer I didn't include Eri and Lucario bc that's a jackal-man idk how to mentally handle a Lucario acting like a dog. That's a person. Featherless biped

Nemona: - She caught Lycanroc as part of her new team. Lycanroc hits hard and fast and mostly acts as her hazard setter or revenge killer. Bitches love stealth rocks - Off the field, they often exercise together! Lycanroc LOVES to run. Nemona has a chronic illness and can't jog, but she does bike or ride a Cyclizar while Lycanroc runs alongside her. They love to race around Mesagoza together - They have the same personality

Ryme: - She is the biggest dog person in Paldea, she loved her puppy so much she rapped it back to life. No one is doing it like her really and truly. When she raps about love? She's talking about the dog - She hosts an adoption fair in Montenevera every year. It's a musical festival centered around getting strays adopted and it's had RESOUNDING success so far - Ryme's semi supernatural powers are actually related to her Houndstone-- she spent so much time along it and all the other soul draining ghost types that she built a resistance to their effects. Now she can (and does) play with entire packs of ghost puppies! And sneak them too many treats

Tyme: - All her pokemon are named after numerical prefixes (kilo, giga, nano, etc). Her Midnight and Midday Lycanroc are named Deca and Deci respectively - She spoils her puppies rotten just like her sister, always sneaking them table scraps and letting them run around in the schoolyard while she's teaching classes - Deca and Deci are bargaining chips to get kids to come to extra help. Who doesn't want to snuggle with two cute dogs while you go over math problems?

Clavell: - When he was a teenager, he used to work for the Pokemon Daycare. (I saw a whole hc where he was a delinquent and got sent to the daycare as part of detention and honestly? Canon in my heart). He found his Houndoom there as a Houndour-- it had been abandoned and adopting it taught Clavell a lot about nurturing others. It's what inspired him to eventually be a school director! - Clavell and his Houndoom are always locked in a constant battle, since Clavell likes to garden and Houndoom likes to dig. For the record, Houndoom is winning - Clavell no longer has his pompadour, seeing as Houndoom took matters into his own paws and lit the wig on fire

Giacomo: - He taught his Mabosstiff, Beethoven, to DJ. He's not good at it by virtue of being a dog but the gimmick is very funny - Beethoven has a tendency to nod its head back and forth, so during concerts, Giacomo will get him little earplugs, a hat, and some shades so he can jam with the crowd. Plus he likes the vibes of the raves - He's the vaccuum cleaner for all the crumbs or snacks Giacomo happens to leave lying about. It's a win-win

Mela: - All her puppies are from the academy itself. She just happens to bond well with those pokemon and uses them on her team despite them not technically belonging to her - The Pokemon world has an ultimate frisbee esque game that involves running with your partner pokemon-- Mela and the dogs are the academy champs. They're unbeatable - Don't tell anyone, but Mela really likes styling their fur

Ortega: - That dog is a purebred (purebread?) and definitely cost like 10k. This dog is worth more than most people's kidneys - Daschbun is a total brat and has very specific diet requests. He can, will, and does pick the carrots out of his food mix and spit them out. God forbid Ortega tries to give him dry food? Oh there is hell to pay - Both Ortega and Daschbun are drama queens. Daschbun is a lapdog and knows it and will sit there haughtily. They're having too much fun