#hit mild burnout

[diremoone]

I finally caught enough fishies to get this damn weapon!!

Now for the freaking refinement mats 😭😭

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.

𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.

You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.

You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.

You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.

You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.

Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.

Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.

“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”

“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.

Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”

“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”

“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.

Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.

He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.

But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.

“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.

“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”

As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”

His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”

“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”

“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.

You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.

“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.

“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.

You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.

Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.

You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.

A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.

Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn off the stove?”

“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.

He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?

“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.

The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,”

Ouch.

“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.

“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.

He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.

“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.

With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.

The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.

“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.

“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.

You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.

With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.

You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”

The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”

“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.

The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.

There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.

You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.

“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.

The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.

“Could you hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.

You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.

“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.

The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.

With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.

“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”

“Like what?”

“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”

You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.

“It’s my fault…”

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.

In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.

Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.

But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.

“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.

“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.

“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”

“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.

You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.

“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.

“Of course,”

“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”

You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”

“You already have a lot on your plate,”

“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”

“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”

Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”

“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.

“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.

“Maybe,”

“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”

“I’ll do it again,”

“And I’ll kiss you right back,”

“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.

It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.

You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”

Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.

You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.

As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”

To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”

“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.

But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.

Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.

“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.

Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.

But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.

He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.

You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.

You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.

“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.

You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.

“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,

“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.

“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”

You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.

Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.

His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.

The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.

His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.

Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.

“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.

“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.

He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.

His broad head nudging into your cervix.

His soft whispers fanning against your ear.

His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.

“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.

You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.

You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.

Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.

Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”

You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”

Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern

@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose

@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart

@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos

@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi

Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore

[inkcurlsandknives]

So due to a confluence of chronic illness, a seemingly mild car accident that nonetheless has made me even more messed up, and SAD I have fully and completely legal access to a lot more medications than usual.

I am also under a really important and really soon writing deadline that I absolutely categorically refuse to push out yet another time because you only get so many sick cards when chronically ill to pull before no one wants to work with you.

And because I am a chemist and open to dangerous experiments I've figured out the exact timing and dosage and combination of meds and supplements to hot rod my broken beater of a physical form into brief and costly hot rod speeds. I'm flying down the highway at 95 mph and every alarm is blaring so I've cut the wires to the speakers and kicked out the warning lights and I am white knuckling the steering wheel, taping my eyelids open as my tires shred and I'm speeding down the road in bare metal and sparks. I am absolutely going to pay for this in blood later, but if I hit my deadline I currently don't care.

I would not recommend this to anyone ever. I sense that learning to briefly and painfully circumvent burnout is the monkey's paw of desperate discoveries

[coffee-and-guitar-strings]

Studying with ADHD

Dear God. My activity on here is sporadic, as is fitting with my diagnosis, but I thought maybe this post could help anyone that's been struggling alongside me.

Warning: Long Post

Feel Free to browse the bullet points and stop if something catches your eye!

If you don't like any of these, don't use them! They're based solely off my experience, and everyone experiences ADHD differently <3

Content:

Setting up The Space

Study Snacks!! - No hunger in The Space

Compete with yourself

Ignore Pomodoro

Reverse the feeling of 'not being smart enough'

Active Recall

Unriddle.ai (not sponsored,,,)

Final Tip

Final Note

Here ya go:

1. Setting up The Space

Some sites say to create a 'distraction free zone' to study in. Screw that, it never worked for me.

My brain is the distraction. I'll stare off into space if there's no other option.

INSTEAD:

We set up a study space that both fulfils random urges mid-work session, and limits distractions away from the desk.

I.e. we don't get up until we need the bathroom.

You limit the amount you get up from The Space, you limit the number of things your attention span will switch to.

Snacks, fidgets, drawing, separate screen for watching stuff? Whatever works, stick it on the desk.

Food wise, I try to make a healthy lunch and then eat it at my desk while reviewing stuff, but sometimes I need a longer break.

If I am taking a break, I do it away from The Space. The Space is dead to me now.

Try to compartmentalise your area, work only in these spots, relax only in these, sleep only there.

We're trying to train our brains here, people, simple and clear relations of space to activity typically get embedded easier.

Also: work whenever.

Burst of energy at 9pm? Go for it, we sleep badly anyways.

Middle of lunch? Have a flashcard/ notes app on your phone, do it while you eat.

With friends? See method 5 <3

I'll link a separate post I'll be making on exactly how my space is set up, though most of the key points are in this one :)

2. Study Snacks!! - No hunger in The Space

One. Handed. Food. Only.

Also, food that doesn't get stuff on your fingers.

You can't work if you're constantly wiping your hands to keep going, and you need something you can absentmindedly grab while you keep your eyes trained on the work.

I recommend getting artificial sugar in your system, sweets, chocolate, give yourself a mild sugar rush to keep a bit of a buzz going while you work.

(try to be healthy about it, this won't be sustainable long-term, but I find a shot of sugar to the system can help prevent burnout)

Also caffeine! Please be aware of how much caffeine you're having for health reasons - I need to watch how much I have, since my medication is already bad for my heart, but even just having a coffee and some sugar at the start of the session, I get enough energy to start working

As long as I don't stop until I'm Done, I will be good.

3. Compete with yourself

I don't recommend competing with others, it toes the line of 'feeling like a failure' too much for my liking, but if it works for you, go for it.

Instead, I compete with myself. Mostly quizlet flashcards, but also 'how much of this have I remembered from yesterday?', and 'How much more can I remember today?'

Whether it's personality or hyperactivity, this gives a dopamine hit. Finding ways to make studying something you can score against is one of my favourite methods.

Video games are an ADHD staple for a reason, easily trackable progress and dopamine from rewards/hyperfixations/etc. make them addictive.

Turn the work into a video game (I think at this point I may sound insane to you guys but please trust me)

4. Ignore Pomodoro

ADHD students, we have to think like sharks: we stop, we die.

Once you have found yourself studying with (relative) ease, Do. Not. Stop. You keep that going as long as possible.

ADHD doesn't mean you can't focus, you can, you just have no choice in where that attention gets allocated. So, when a tomato-based timer tell you to turn off your focus and relax, after it took you half the damn time to start the stupid work, it can be a little counter-productive

(I may have some repressed rage for pomodoro, try to forgive me)

Please, ignore the pomodoro stuff. I know it's healthy to regulate the volume of work you do, but I find that once I start working, I can't stop until I run out of energy.

I time or video myself instead, I can track how long I've been working, feel proud of it, and I also can't use my phone during that session.

When my brain stops taking stuff in, I have an hour to 2 hour break, relax (away from The Space) try to reset my brain so it's back to baseline. Then I start again.

5. Reverse the feeling of 'not being smart enough'

I know I am smart, and it's on others if they don't see that, but having undiagnosed ADHD for 17 years did a number on my self image and confidence.

If you struggle with this, it's so, so helpful to try this method, and can start to reverse the negative internal image we've managed to cultivate <3

So, after you've covered a topic: tell someone about it (please make sure they're ready to listen to you rant for half an hour).

Not only are you reinforcing what you've just learnt, but you also get to feel competent, and teaching someone else about your topic helps to raise perceptions (internal or from others) of what you know/what you're capable of.

6. Active Recall

This one goes great with the whole, 'competing with yourself' method (no. 4);

Active Recall is just making sure you're going over old information and recalling correctly, once it's past short term memory. Trying to remember information without it present forces your brain to pull it from Long-term memory and reinforces the information in your brain.

I know it's been said a million times, but this + competing with yourself does wonders for me.

My favourite method is blurting ( read/write notes of one topic, wait ten minutes, do something else productive, and then try to copy that topic from memory. repeat until all key info is correctly recalled)

7. Unriddle.ai (not sponsored,,,)

Okay, this site changed it for me. 5 free uploads, 15 free inputs per month.

Download a copy of the fancy scientific paper/article/book you need to read through. Upload.

Ask unriddle to summarise key points, to re-write it as if you were 7, etc.

This genuinely saved my essays. Suddenly the procrastination of reading my source material was gone. It makes it so much easier to get through dense/boring text and then I wrote everything myself.

Please do not plagiarise, I am only recommending this site to make things easier to read, copying down what it produces is considered plagiarism by my uni, and likely most others.

8. Final Tip

Be kind to yourself.

When I got medicated, my friends were genuinely stressed by how much work I was suddenly doing.

One of them asked me about it, and I realised it didn't feel like I was doing any more than normal. I had always been working this hard, it was just that half the energy going in wasn't being wasted on trying to get myself to focus.

What you put in may not receive the same results as for others, but the reality is that you're likely working harder than they are. The irritating truth is simply that we have to compensate for the different cognitive functioning that neurotypicals get to take for granted

(no hate to the NTs, I'm glad ya'll don't have to think about it, but for someone with ADHD, it can be really tough to realise)

A Final Note:

You are smart. You can do this. We just need to modify the system a little to make it work for us. There is no shame in that, anyone telling you otherwise needs a reality check.

Genuinely though, I've noticed that people telling me I use my ADHD accommodations (required by law) as a 'crutch'.

1. If the world were set up by me, that same person would struggle just as much, if not more.

2. If Rishi Sunak's government is willing to GIVE ME FREE MONEY to access these accommodations, that implies that this genuinely is needed. Not because I think Sunak is intelligent or kind (my own political opinions, please just hear me out), but because there is no way, with the underfunding of the NHS, Public services, etc. that they'd be willing to give me money I don't need to repay if it wasn't a scientific fact that I needed it, and it helped.

Use the inadequacies of the government to your advantage in arguments, make the idiots see how integral our accommodations are. I'd have dropped out of uni by now without them.

For anyone in need of help trying to convince family/friends/teachers/etc. of the struggle with ADHD (or anything else, though I won't have as much experience with it), telling them what you need help with, or any other arguments, send me an ask. I do psychology for my degree, I am used to searching for research papers, and I will help you with the necessary scientific backing for your case.

You are not in this alone <3

Lots of Love!

Coffee + Guitar Strings

@chocolatelandgarden @chaoticstudyprincess

[screamingcrows]

Change of Pace - Dottore x reader

Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and all that. Approximately three weeks after 'Tomorrow'. "Fuck it all" *softens your Dottore*. I need this man to kiss my hand or I will murder someone. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm sending you all Taenia solium eggs

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, burnout, overworked, soft, very mild gore (mentions taking brain samples), comfort, fluff, they're both bad at this

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

Your samples were long past saving by now. How long had you been staring at the plate containing the biopsies, twenty minutes? The light was burning through your vision, making everything swim in your mind. But it was needed for the fixation in the next step. If you ever made it that far.

Hours of work, wasted because of your own inability. The clatter caused by your head hitting the table echoed ruthlessly while you fought off images of a dismayed Dottore. One thing was anger, disappointment was another matter entirely.

Maybe doing tissue analysis of your own brain would've been more valuable, at least then someone might figure out what was wrong with it.

A hand wrapped around yours, gently prying open your fingers before taking the scissors away. Sight was unnecessary to discern the owner as only a single other warm body frequented this section. Your eyes remained shut, now empty hand feeling along the table for its previous quarry.

If nothing else, dead samples could still be used verify that the technicalities worked, even if the data would be misleading.

"You're barely lucid, in which case I'd prefer if this waited until tomorrow. You're supposed to be handling raimei angel extracts later in the protocol, and stunning yourself would be unfortunate," Dottore was clearly trying, voice so uncharacteristically gentle it felt all manners of wrong.

It only made you sigh in desperation, how hard he was trying compared to you, his dedication unwavering regardless of the objective he put forward.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment. You wanted the initial assessment this week," your voice was muffled enough that it would hopefully hide the exhaustion.

The low chuckle he let out caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was something he'd done more as of late, a pleasant change of pace since the talk. You could almost see the charming smile that would no doubt accompany it, the glittering light in eyes you'd been fortunate enough to glimpse once.

There was no time to open your eyes and check, a warm palm coming to rest on the back your head. The light tremble in his hands made your chest tighten so long as you imagined it to be caused by worry instead of damage.

"You've been staring at nothing for an hour, hardly the best use of your time, and certainly not an indication of someone who is 'fine'."

An hour? Oh, the samples were beyond salvageable if that was true. Everything would've died in the wells by now. A pit dug itself out in your heart, tearing at what had otherwise reluctantly been dedicated to the harbinger. Thoughts of disaster were many, magnitude rivaling divine intervention according to what little remained awake of your consciousness.

Dottore was tugging at your wrist, hand swallowing yours with ease. For being a scholar, his hands spoke of a much different past than others bearing the same title. Another question that would at other times stoke the embers of your curiosity.

Did he want you to stand? Begrudgingly, your body attempted to follow where he lifted your arm. At the feeling of warm lips pressed to your wrist your eyes flew open in disbelief. The visage was the closest to divinity you'd ever gaze upon, in this fact alone were you without doubt. From where you were, the light behind him formed a halo, illuminating his tousled hair. His eyes were closed in silent devotion for but a moment.

Without the beaked mask, he was a completely different man. The large burn that covered a quarter of his face drew your attention first, but it was the crinkles around his eyes that made him look so painfully human.

"You are in no condition to work, this can bear to wait a day or two," his voice remained steady, the only thing you could safely cling to, too lost in committing to memory what he showed of himself.

"Are you certain, Dottore? If I just… ninety minutes of rest, a full cycle should be enough and then I can start over. We still have-"

"We still have plenty of time, dear. I told you, this isn't my most pressing project, so working you to the brink of destruction would be folly."

And that was enough to pacify you. The fact that he'd used a term of endearment, however questionable the choice, kept you smiling through the familiar corridors of the Palace, tucked securely under his arm and away from view. Under any other circumstance, this would've felt humiliating, but for today there was no fight left, only a dull yearning that had tears prickling your eyes.

It never became more than dozing off against him on a couch in his chambers. But that was enough, the heat from his body and his low mumbling while he read from a book soothed your frayed nerves.

[variousqueerthings]

reading a rayv meta and it's slotting some things into place for me regarding how i read him. and i need to rewatch the duel because ive decided that that's the "before and after" crucial moment in his life (prior to fraser of course).

there's bright young married detective who's respected and solves a big case and has a partner and then there's increasingly burnt out and tired of the world and divorced and partnerless ray veccio who's behind on his caseload and willing to do a little police corruption to get the job done (which, canonically he never would have back then, that's the whole crux of the episode, that he's genuinely shaken by how many people just assume that of him) that fraser lifts out of the sludge.

i see you effects of the world generally and bringing in a serial killer/arsonist and life going on its head immediately following that case -- and ohhhh not to go for the obvious one but i bet he didn't have to do mandated therapy for solving a case, but you can tell it deeply affected him and then all of his structures were turned upside down one by one, partner leaving, captain retiring, and his father was still alive then and died a year or so later, marriage ending, and i will take a leap and headcanon all of this within months of each other.

and to continue to extrapolate, but obviously he never made it work with another partner for six years. i bet his tetchy abrasiveness would have been written off as "bad at working with others," his increasing struggles to manage his caseload chalked up to being a one-hit wonder without any real commitment or skill, everything his father always said about him turning into truth and he'd be helpless to stop it happening because it's all himself doing it...

no wonder he's a burnout mess who doesn't want anything to do with people by the time he meets fraser.

(and then he knows fraser for One day and his faith in humanity is... not restored, but certainly his commitment to supporting fraser's faith with only mild complaining is true and unwavering. oh my guy needed this. he needed this so badly).

also i say complaining, but really his complaining is mostly about fraser getting himself hurt by caring/giving too much which... takes one to know one. they're more a mirror image of each other than ray realises i think, only because his side is kinda smudged and cracked, but still works. just needed a bit of polish.

(there's a fairytale in this too).

[mishasminion360]

Safe In My Arms

Ezra x fem!reader

Warnings: Language; light angst; feelings of insecurity; body dysmorphia; brief allusions to smut; hurt/comfort; fluff.

Summary: Ezra harbors a secret hatred for his absent arm, but his feelings come to a head when his newly acquired handicap fails to do the one task he vowed never to fail in: keep you safe from harm.

A/N: I’m back (but not necessarily better than ever). Sorry I’ve been MIA, folks. Between work and the stresses of daily life burnout hit hard and kicked all my creativity to the curb. But the summer has brought some much needed quiet and a little bit of recovery time, so I am slowly getting my groove back. I’ve got tons of new ideas, so let’s see how many I can get through before life gets in the way yet again 😊

A clean but savage scar. Puckered and pale flesh. A ghostly pain that haunts the vestiges of his dominant upper extremity; a banshee’s sorrowful wail that echoes throughout what remains of his blood and marrow.

He both admires and loathes the ruins of his appendage. Like the crumbling facades of lost civilizations and landmarks it is the brittle leftovers of something once great. At the time his right arm had seemed a necessary and middling sacrifice compared to his life, but away from the immediate threats of the toxic moon it’s become a piteous sight.

Ezra’s hands were his livelihood; his greatest strength. Without one where does that leave the other? In the quietest parts of his mind the darkest thoughts linger. Notions of weakness, inadequacy, and incompetency. He can no longer dig, he can no longer write, he can no longer please you with his touch.

Ah, you. You. You fault him nothing. You do not mourn his loss nor the resulting shortcomings. You do not look upon him with disdain or condolence. The initial sight of his drastically altered form prompted immediate shock, but the emotion fled your features as quickly as it had occupied them.

“Most of you came back to me. All the best parts of you returned,” you’d assured him. “You’re alive, you’re home, and that’s what matters.”

If you’re content then he will find a way to be as well. This new normal will take time; surely he will learn to adjust. Until then he will smile when he catches you looking. He will lie until it becomes truth.

***

Ezra is an artist in many ways. Any time he opens his mouth he paints you a picture with his words. He weaves sentences into daily conversation composed of words that most would never even think to utter, let alone heard of. He is a poet without even trying.

But he is a shitty actor.

You don’t miss the self-deprecating looks that ghost across his visage; the disgruntled mutterings of inwardly directed criticisms far below the standards of his lexicon. He hates what he’s become, though he hasn’t changed a bit. Not truly. An arm is nothing compared to a heart, to a soul.

He won’t let you see him cursing himself, so you don’t let him see that you’ve seen. When and if he’s ready to talk then you’ll be ready to listen. And until that moment comes you will carry on doing what you do best: loving him.

And nothing says “love” like baked goods.

You’d hypnotized him with your sweets when you’d first met; lured him to love like a witch with a house made of candy.

You’d just managed to fatten him up a little before he’d left for his excursion on the Green Moon. He’d lost that healthy weight and then some living off of rations and Kevva knows what else after being marooned. You had both been so dizzied by the overwhelming cocktail of surprise, relief, and bliss that had come with his sudden return that you hadn’t had a chance to celebrate him properly. Well, better late than never.

***

He pads into the kitchen just in time to see you pushing one of the rickety chairs from the dining table up to the cupboards and mounting it with a soft grunt of mild exertion. His heart seizes when the wood creaks.

“And just what are you doing up there, my supernova?”

Without granting him your full attention you respond. “I’m going to bake you a cake.”

“That is quite a precarious position in which one would craft a culinary delight, is it not?”

“I have to gather the ingredients first, wise guy.”

You lift yourself onto the tips of your toes and the chair wobbles to and fro.

“Nova, let me assist you,” he insists hastily. “Whatever you require from above I shall retrieve.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff. “I managed just fine while you were gone and I’ll manage now.”

He’s glad, for only a second, that your back is to him. You won’t see how deeply those words had cut him. But the effects of the unintentional slight are fleeting; any and all offense is cast aside when your toes curl over the edge of the chair and the motion proves to be disastrous.

The wobbling of the chair’s four unsteady legs reverberates up into your own extremities. The bag of flour you’d sought only now in hand, your body pitches to the right, and you have only a second to exhale a startled gasp before you are stumbling over the edge of the seat.

Ezra dives for you, hellbent on breaking your fall. His body sails toward yours as if pulled by a gravitational force. He reaches for you. He reaches for you with an arm that does not exist.

You drop through the space where there should have been a solid barricade of flesh and bone and strike the linoleum with a muffled thud. Your head bounces off the floor synchronously with the doomed bag of flour, which splits upon impact and showers the room in a white haze. Your cranium, by the grace of Kevva, remains intact.

“Ooooouch.” Somewhere in the middle your groan evolves into a laugh. “Well, now I feel stupid.”

And he feels….

“Supernova….are you alright?” First his upper extremities prove useless, now his lower ones are failing him as well. His legs nearly buckle as he kneels at your side to assess you for injury.

“I’ll survive,” you assure him. “The only thing wounded is my pride.”

He helps you up to the best of his ability before striding with purpose to the utility closet to fetch a broom. Wordlessly, he gets to work cleaning up the sea of loose powder flooding the kitchen floor. The silence that fills the room is as awkward as his movements. He’s struggling with the simple task that much is obvious, but he seems determined. The veins in the graceful slope of his neck pulse with effort.

“Ezra, let me—“

“I’ve got it, nova.”

“I made this mess with my foolishness, so I’ll clean it.”

“You just took a serious tumble, love. I can weather a simple snowstorm.”

“Ez, I don’t mind. Why don’t you—?”

“Dammit all! Don’t placate me like I’m some kind of invalid,” he shouts. He never raises his voice, speaks in harsh tones, or uses course language. Such things are beneath his beautifully woven vocabulary. “I may not be able to do much these days but I can manage a simple sweeping!”

You remain stoic in the wake of his outburst; any kind word you could dare to breathe may be horribly misconstrued. Instead you watch impassively has he continues his fumbling efforts, the mess never lessening, until finally he hurls the broom to the floor, the wooden handle colliding with a thunderclap.

He pounds his fist upon the countertop as his body vibrates with an anger you’ve never seen. Your lungs surrender the air they’d been harboring only when he at last sags under the weight of a heavy sigh.

“Forgive me, supernova. I did not mean to address you so barbarously.” Ezra’s voice rattles inside of his chest like a songbird dashing itself against the bars of its gilded cage.

“I know,” you answer gently.

“I just find myself….confounded by this new and unwanted deformity. I feel….beyond inadequate. I can no longer work efficiently to provide for us. I can not complete the most meager of household tasks.”

That delicate sparrow trembles within the clutch of his ribs. He’s white knuckling the edge of the sink.

“I can not protect you in this fragile and ruined state. I can not….I can not even hold you properly.”

You don’t need words to tell him just how wrong he is. With a commanding but gentle hand upon his shoulder you turn him to face you, taking his solitary arm and wrapping it snugly around your waist before melting into the wall of his chest.

“This works pretty well.”

You feel the huff of his breath against your hair as his chin meets the crook of your neck. His lips brush a bump on the back of your head that you hadn’t even realized was there until his kiss bruises the flesh.

“You would still have me this way, Nova?”

“Ezra, you are more than a pair of arms or legs or a body. All the most important parts of you came back to me.”

You press a kiss to his sternum, relishing the the quickening thump of one of those “most important parts” as it buzzes through your lips, each beat a gentle reminder that he is alive and home.

“So long as your beautiful spirit remains unchanged and unmarred, then you’ve lost nothing you can’t truly be without. The rest is just a bonus.”

A one-armed embrace proves more than enough. Ezra holds you just as close as he’d ever managed with two. Closer yet. He cradles you with more than just extremities.

“You are the only thing I can not bear to lose, nova. The one truly precious thing.”

“And you will never lose me,” you vow. “So long as you never lose yourself, you’ll never lose me.”

“I think, my love,” he whispers, “you got that backwards.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday

[rannadylin]

Veilguard: Ranna's Rook intros!

Waaaay back in November, I might have posted a time or two about my first Rook? Since then I've been a bit distracted from Tumblr by, uh, playing three more of them. XD I just started the fifth playthrough so I'd better pop in and show some Rooks off before I get too far into this one and forget how to blog again!

Possibly mild spoilers to follow along with pretty pictures and very brief summaries beneath the cut...

Caeda Mercar, Shadow Dragon rogue who romanced Lucanis (alas, yes, she saved Treviso at the expense of her home Minrathous! worth it. She did also flirt a bit with Davrin early on when Lucanis was still being shy about it, but basically I started the game thinking I'd probably romance Emmrich and then Lucanis spited right out of that Ossuary cell and through a gaggle of Venatori in five seconds flat and Caeda went all heart eyes and set her cap for him irrevocably.) Started out more of an archer rogue (usually one of my favorite DA playstyles) but halfway through she started leaning more toward daggers. We'll assume that was her favorite Crow's influence. (Or that Ranna was figuring out how to play XD)

After Caeda I jumped straight back into CC to make...

Veryl Ingellvar, Mourn Watch mage who romanced Emmrich. Whereas Caeda had the first-playthrough honor of just picking whatever dialogue options I felt like at the time, so she had a pretty broadly mixed personality, this one specialized in what, in ages past, we would've called Blue Hawke personality. :-D Very golden-retriever, Miss Positivity, etc. (She reminded me of Violet Itzli sometimes. :-D) I thought she'd be a staff mage but then I fell in love with orb & dagger so she did a lot of that too, though not as much as the yet to come 4th playthrough would...

Next up we have:

Akish Thorne, Grey Warden Warrior who started out sword & board (throwing shields is fun!) and switched to mostly two-hander (when I realized you can still throw the shield even when you're not apparently holding one!). He romanced Bellara (who reminded me of Yolotli Itzli from the moment I met her :-D ...Akish is not exactly Anselm though), and if Veryl was a Blue Hawke Rook, Akish was mostly Red Hawke, except for being a big softie whenever it came to Bel. (Also, for his endgame I played through once with Neve doing the wards on Tearstone and then again with Bellara and...I like that second one better. Oh the narrative parallels between him being a blighted Warden and then seeing Bellara get blighted but survive it too! Also I like Bel better for that part of endgame in general; it's a bit of character development - her moving from seeming more of an innocent to someone who has survived something pretty massive and draws strength from it to save the day in the end! - that she just needs more than Neve does.)

Other than Bellara, Akish's favorite thing in the world is griffons. :-D Also his eyes are supposedly violet though the screenshots make it hard to tell.

I had plans to play an Adaar Inquisitor in DAI but never got around to that playthrough before burnout hit so Akish is my first Qunari OC and I had such fun with him!

Next up: I just finished playing Rook Number Four:

Arucari "Rook" De Riva. Yes, Rook is short for Arucari. :-D She romanced Lucanis because, um, it appears that he is my Daeran for this game (i.e. I played WOTR 7 times through one summer and romanced Daeran for three of them. Guess I've got at least one more Lucanis romance to go this time around. XD) She is a mage because I missed playing as a spellblade, and a Crow because it is technically the Crow Spellblade specialization, and because I wanted to see how romancing Lucanis with another Crow went. (Conclusion: It went spectacularly! She was such fun.) She was my Purple Hawke girl, always teasing and deflecting with humor anytime things are awkward, but also generally positive beneath that. Also she got extra-large eyes in homage to DA2 elves. :-D Here is a better view of them:

She is an excellent Crow. No one ever expects assassination from anything this cute.

And last but not least...

Linza Laidir is my 5th playthrough, just barely begun! Go Team Dwarf. :-D (Team Dwarven Rogues, to be specific! We gained a Neve just after this screenshot and dear Neve has never looked so tall, being surrounded by Children of the Stone.) Don't know yet if she will be more of an archer rogue or a daggers rogue, whichever lends itself more to Gold and Glory, of course! Not sure yet about her personality (probably swinging between Blue and Red Hawke types? She did beat up everyone in the bar to get Neve Gallus' location, whereas most of my Rooks have talked the bartender down. But I think despite a knack for highly effective violence she's also a sweet little Team Mom who will be teaming up with Lucanis and Bellara for the cooking. And probably romancing Davrin. (Was I inspired by Antoine & Evka's elf/dwarf dynamic? No comment.)

So clearly I'm enjoying Veilguard overall, and from the factions & romances I've played so far, I rank them as follows:

Grey Warden

Crow

Shadow Dragon

Mourn Watcher

And...

Lucanis <3

Bellara

Emmrich

Which. Considering I went into the first playthrough expecting to fall for Emmrich, is interesting to see how it actually played out so far! Also, clearly I need to play a Warden for my third Lucanis romance, right? :-D

[paymechildsupport]

Yuji Itadori // x Reader [Nights with You]

-!! Yuji is aged up a wee bit, this is domestic-ish fluff + hurt n' comfort

-!! CW: insinuations of mild depression and burnout + slight mental breakdown (Yuji helps you <3)

-!! Gender never specified.

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

-

You sit up and look out the dark windows. Droplets of rain covered the entire surface making it impossible to see out of. The slow and steady beat of the drops hitting the glass soothed your body. It gave your heart a beat to match. Your lungs a pace to breathe at. 

Moments like these were the most peaceful. 

But it was getting late.

You feel the empty bed below you in the darkness. If you could feel sadness in this moment you’d imagine it to be heavy. 

If only nights like these could be shared. 

You lay back and pull the covers over your head. You stare straight up into ceiling and yawn. You can feel yourself slipping away. 

As you were about to close your eyes and let oblivion take you under, the door opened faintly. 

It closed with the same measure of low volume. 

Although it was pitch black inside the room, albeit from the faint glow of the window, you already knew exactly who it was. 

“Yuji”, the words softly leave your lips in a quiet whisper, barely a breath.

“Hi,”

You smile into the dark.

“Did I wake you?” He whispers, now at the side of the bed.

“No, I was just about to go to sleep”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you” He sounded so guilty it almost made you laugh. 

“Don’t be sorry, really. It’s been awhile since you’ve come to bed this early”

“Love, it’s three in the morning”, Yuji walks over so he is at your side of the bed, he crouches down to your eye level. His words are gentle but you can hear concern laced into them. 

He leans in. He’s so close now you can make out his soft facial features. His gentle eyes, his fluffy pink hair. You’re glad the darkness conceals your warm face. He is so, so beautiful. 

“Have you not been sleeping?” He asks softly, the question snapping you back to the present. 

“Hm-? Oh-, Yes… I’ve been sleeping.”

“…” You briefly make out his face crinkle into a frown.

“Maaaybe just a liiiittle bit later than usual though” 

“Love, is everything okay?”

“Yes” You stare back up at the ceiling. Both of you say nothing else, opting to lapse into silence. The rain seems to beat down even heavier- though not too heavy it’s loud. The light from the window flickers for a moment. The raindrops slip from the glass and tumble to the floor. So, so peaceful…

You sigh. 

“I don’t know”

Yuji says nothing.

“I- to be honest,- I do not know if everything is okay.” You confess, still not looking at him

“I do not even know if ‘stable’ is even a correct definition for what I feel right now. Everything is just going so fast and I can’t seem to-“ You pause, hearing Yuji quickly move from his spot. 

You track the movement in the darkness as you hear him hastily change clothing. 

He comes closer again, though this time on his own side of the bed, and lays down. 

He gently takes you up in his arms, pulling you close to himself. 

“Shhhh,” He softly urges, the words whispered into your ear. “It’s alright. It’ll all be alright. Just tell me what you need. Just tell me what to do. Please, just tell me what to do to make you feel okay” You’ve seldom seen Yuji desperate, so the raw emotion in his pleas startled you. He touched you as if you were made of glass, and would shatter at any moment. He was so, so gentle, so sweet. 

“Its- I- I just-“ You swallow, “I’m so tired, Yuji. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore” You’re shaking by now, caught off-guard by the sudden surge of emotion. You hate yourself for ever letting him see such a vulnerable state.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise I’ll make it okay.” He says softly, so, so softly. “Cry, if you need to. Or sleep, please sleep. You deserve it. You’ve done enough.” He pauses, taking a breath to calm his own nerves,  “More than enough. No one needs you to do anything more. No one, not me, not Nobara, not Megumi, not even Gojo-sensei  expects more from you.” 

You lay there for awhile, you and him. 

“You’re very strong, my love” Yuji whispered. One hand carefully strokes your back while the other runs through your hair. You feel yourself nearing the end. You’re going to collapse and you finally, finally, have somewhere you can do it. 

Yuji bends his head down and kisses you, once, on the forehead. Kisses butterfly down your forehead to your cheeks, where they eventually go down to your lips. Soft, as if he were kissing feathers instead of another human. Mere whispers of a kiss tease your neck. You quietly suck in a breath as Yuji kisses the bottom of your neck and collarbone, then your shoulders.

“Mmph-“

“Shh,” Yuji gently urges. He presses two fingers to your lips, smiling softly. You smile back. 

His face lights up adorably.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, snuggling his body up to yours. You almost laugh. You smile at your vulnerable position, his frame clinging to yours. You have no idea what kind of feelings you elicit out of the poor boy. 

You hold him close and lay your head on his chest. 

You’re so, so very tired. So, so very done. 

You silently take in the dark room, the soft light from the window, the pitter patter of the rain outside, and of Yuji, who has already fallen into a deep sleep. 

You slowly close your eyes and let yourself slip into oblivion. 

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

((An older piece I slightly reworked. Yuji my dear, I would die for you, ong, I will personally fistfight Gege for you 🥰😾))

[anastasiaoftheironwood]

An excellent post on dealing with burnout as a neurodivergent person.

Neurodivergent burnout is a little more pernicious; it's caused by your nervous system being pushed beyond its limits too far and for too long. it causes cognitive problems that can be mild (saying the wrong words, forgetting numbers or directions or conversations, turning the wrong way) or severe (going straight up nonverbal.) It creates an exhaustion that can leave you sleeping for twelve, fifteen, eighteen hours a day. It causes almost a cousin of anhedonia: you would maybe like to watch a TV show or make some art or go hang out with a friend, but you somehow can't make yourself actually do it. That can look a lot like lying around doomscrolling! It can look a lot like depression! But it is not actually depression.

[crowtheboneman]

I'm starting to go into burnout and have hit the wonderful stage of increased sensory sensitivity. Foods that I used to eat daily are now unbearable. The clothes I used to wear constantly now cause pain and sounds I used to find comforting now cause intense headaches. I feel like I'm constantly bordering on a meltdown, even when I've just had one. The world around me is significantly more irritating and unbearable than it was previously. I find myself hitting my tolerance for input daily, I'm having frequent anger outbursts and times of uncontrollable sobbing, which I'm slightly hesitant to classify as a mild meltdown but honestly might be. While I'm normally hyperverbal, with frequent variations in my inflection and tone, and becoming anxious when I don't speak for long periods of time. Verbalizing my thoughts is now exhausting, my voice slowly becoming more monotone, and I'm having more trouble speaking for long periods of time. It has become nearly impossible for me to feel empathy toward anything, which my ability to empathize has always been debatable, things that I think are empathetic actions others view as selfish or self absorbed, but now its almost like my heart is just empty. When I was diagnosed, it was decided I was not eligible for disability. Namely, due to the fact that I am capable of masking, despite the difficulty I face in my day to day life, I'm able to cover it up. I'm now seeking a reevaluation from a new psychologist. And despite my desperation to take a break from everything, I am unable, because if I do, I risk losing a roof over my head. Though I'd have to say one of the worst parts of all of this is the unbearable feeling of being completely alone. The fact that no matter what I do, no matter how desperately I try to describe my feelings, there is almost no one who will fully understand that almost no one who will know the constant overwhelm state I am in. Sure, there are other autistic people in my life who will, but those people have no ability to actually help due to them also being in a similar situation. Since my diagnosis, I have come to the realization that this world was not made for us, and we will always either be infantilized or treated as lazy and hunting for excuses. Because this world is catered to allistics, and accommodations for invisible disabilities are viewed as unfair and nothing but an inconvenience.

[bonefall]

Your talk about Briarlight's mobility device is super cool, so i wanted to ask for your opinion, if a cat was missing a single back leg (amputated at the heel), would a mobility device be helpful? I'm assuming no, i've seen cats with only two legs hopping around, which leads to question #2.

The character in question got injured and their leg needed to be removed, a Cinderpaw situation of sorts. The clan begins pushing the use of the mobility device on them, parallel to irl people pushing the use of prosthetics to make amputees look 'normal'. Paired with a severe case of gifted kid syndrome, where their missing leg made training difficult and they begin to burn out because they're suddenly struggling, they get shoved/shove themself into the cleric role. They're miserable about this; They loved being a warrior, but simple training they used to breeze right past suddenly became difficult, so they've resigned themself to picking leaves and chewing herbs.

I'm mostly worried that it will be read the wrong way. The character COULD complete their training, they arent lesser than anyone else, but the gifted kid syndrome hit at the same time, along with a mild dose of peer pressure and internal ableism. It IS a case of 'disabled characters go in the square hole medicine cat den!', and thats the whole point because I wanted to explore the ableism in that situation. They just think that if they can't get something right in the first few tries, they cant get it right ever, so they resigned themself to the metaphorical square hole.

I'm just worried though that by trying to comment on it by adding it to the story that im instead encouraging it. Any advice is 100% appreciated, it's just a thin line and im super worried about walking it. Anyways sorry for invading your ask box i just really wanted to ask for second opinions and i have absolutely no one else to turn to.

A mobility device would not be useful, nope! I'm planning a "mobility device that is just for everyone else's comfort" with Thunder Storm too, though that arc is ending with Thunder pulling it off (and then finding out that Tall Shadow exiled Bumble and flipping his fuzzy little lid)

I think what you need most is clarity of your message, and confidence. You know WHAT you want to say about this-- so start thinking about how to show it. How do you impart this to your audience?

The cat in question doesn't need to realize it. They can have friends, mentors, family, other people who come to the right conclusion. Set up their Gifted Kid problems early, and SHOW that they give up and do as they're told when they struggle with something.

You seem to be doing well by establishing that Examplepaw doesn't like the cleric den, and so this was NOT the right choice for them. In my opinion, that's something that muddies Jayfeather's arc in-canon. He's forced into it but ends up just... fine with it and good at it. The fact Jay was pushed there against his will doesn't actually result in negative consequences.

And people argue, "ah, well, authorial statements say ACTUALLY he ALWAYS would have liked it but he felt like he was fitting a stereotype by going in there so actually it's good that they did an abelism because he wouldn't know what's best for him" and like... they don't see the problem in that lmao. Don't Be Like Them People.

But anyway, that's enough advice rambling on my part. @The Audience, if you guys have advice for this anon, feel free to RB it with commentary or reply to it, especially if you have experience with burnout and physical disability

[knowlessman]

"shigaraki has become too powerful. we need to bring in the one person we know who can disable him from a distance." "you can't mean -" "I do. Contact Mr Smiley." (bnha s6e7-10)

I forgot Aquaman or wever his name is was keeping Eraser Head's eyes wet so he could stare at Tomura 'XD that's just, a thing. that's how this show works. that's just a thing in this show

"he even has all might's power and toughness" blinks in Magic player I wonder what those might be. Maybe like 7/7? or he's a 1/1 that can pump?

"'little brother?' I didn't say that. I don't want to be like you, teacher, I want to surpass you. my will is my own" yeah, I don't think you read all the fine print back when Super-Satan took you in. gifted powers from vague-talking benefactors have a tendency to not care what you want in the end

"Vanishing Fist" is a cool name for an attack. wonder what they cribbed it from (turns out they didn't, it sounded like something that coulda been from something else tho imo)

(midnight got got by mr compress and is telling momo to use a forbidden technique or something to stop bigfoot) hmmm. so midnight had yaoyorozu analyze her sedative stuff so she can make it? yaoyorozu's quirk may be a strict upgrade over some of the pros', then.

ngl, mt lady hasn't seemed to be slowing bigfoot down worth a damn so far. dint even try to get him off his feet, he was just pushing her ahead of him like a plow for the longest time

figures, acid girl remembered bigfoot from her origin story or something and it made her fumble the shot. or he just reminded her of it? not sure, I don't remember the details that well (could swear her origin story was literally about a "monster" looking guy just asking for directions but idk). anyway, kirishima to the rescue? like they do have that shared backstory bit kinda thing so like sure

…what the.

-- fucker just. …fuck is that called? gurning? yeah. mfer just won the universe gurning championship of all time out of nowhere. swallered his nose. and ears. and eyes.

(tomura got eraser head with the dart) I don't guess our guy's wearing dartproof shinguards under them trousers or summat? -- BRO.

-- BRO. when is this that kind of show

(OP starts up again) okay, get this upbeat… get this lewis carroll denver jam band shit outta my face, a man just cut his fucking leg off with a knife with one swipe, my man has a vorpal fucking sword specifically for chopping entire legs off and you are playing stuff that would sound too tame and mild and childish for fucking burnout 3. "lazy generation" wouldn't come close to cutting it for this shit, get outta here -- hell, what was he gonna do if it hit him in the gut? chop his entire fucking self in half? -- sweet from atlantis: "the catalog says this little beauty can cut through a femur in twenty-eight seconds. I'm betting I could cut that time in half"

"the giant villain is expected to pass through eleventy different cities on his way to wherever he's going" see, now they got sad twangy strings in the background, it sounds like "In the Woods Somewhere." this is appropriate music for the context -- also the kids really did go through all that for fuckall. : | apparently he can Tarrasque in his sleep or something

robotnik: "that one mistake will bring about your demise!" fucking cyclops with his stupid dinky eye lasers. and writers not knowing what defibrillators are for.

oh yeah, this episode's named after bakugo for some reason. writer really does act like he's fucking enkidu when he's just extremely simply a bad person, it's never gonna make sense to me

flashbacks of bakugo "helping" deku figure out the black whip ig -- wait shit, so deku now also has an ability called Float that just lets him Peter Pan. …or just levitate ig, apparently he needs the other stuff to actually move -- all might: "you're helping him learn his powers to atone for your past actions. but he probably never thought about it" these two make no goddamn sense. bakugo is still every bit as abusive, not only towards deku, but towards every person he interacts with, as he was when we first met him. he's never shown any trace of regretting being that way. hell, he also just got done spelling out that he can't understand that deku values and cares about other people, that that quality of deku's is repulsive to him. -- bakugo is just… is just wired in such a way, whether by nature or nurture or both, that he needs help becoming anything but several kinds of danger to other people. and he'll never get it, and he'll somehow continue to be portrayed as some kind of, for lack of a better word, "quirky" hero.

cyclops's cape is completely gone now, dang. is tomura gonna get a new one after this fight, or what? that thing was his whole wardrobe, now he's just Ben Swolo with wrong hair and chapped lips.

welp, here comes Super-Satan, Tomura, here comes your benefactor to take over the reins. toldja. -- (bakugo took the hit) there'll be no living with him after this. not that there was any before

"I finally got you" ah ah ah. if I didn't know any better, I'd think the Avatar Spirits might have something to say about that. I know you gave this power away, all that time ago, but it might not want to go back. it's got several minds of its own now

the villain team's hacker guy has visual on the fight? while riding on bigfoot's back? how shit is the good guys' tech if this nobody with a laptop can see shit and nobody else knew anything until bigfoot started moving?

"I need to ask sakuraraka why hawks killed twice" yeah because she'll definitely have any damned idea what you're talking about (did he die? I mean they kinda played it like he did but they do that a lot and it very rarely seems to take) -- "you're not the only one who's mad about twice" …what IS spinner doing here? what is his whole deal? does he have one? why is his sword twenty swords taped together in a pile, and why haven't we seen him do anything since like season two? at least, I could swear he hasn't done anything, for having such a distinctive design he's such a nothingburger of a character

"what are you going to do to me?" 'XD fucking nothing, the best her power can do is levitate you and you know it

oh goddammit, the next one's title is literally That Bit with the Gifs and the Hall & Oats Memes, the bit I been waiting for this entire time, but I just watched four in a row (four HEAVY ones) and I wanna stop. I'm just gonna have to save it and open on it (and Knife Girl's BS) next time

[fenmere]

Just what is burnout?

Something that really irritates us and troubles us about discussions of burnout is that there are different kinds and levels of burnout, and everyone is always talking about their own without specifying what it is. And that gets confusing. There's professional burnout, where you lose your ability to be creative and make decisions at a given job or task. This might happen outside of employment, but it's kinda rare. We could just call it artistic burnout for that, though. But what happens is that you work too hard at this one thing and then your brain just can't do it anymore for a while.

It might effect the rest of your life in other ways, but mostly, you just really need to move onto something else for a while.

This has happened to us regarding art, for instance, and switching to writing allowed us to continue being productive and seeking nice brain chemicals.

Then there's systemic burnout, which is usually called autistic burnout, but it can happen to people with ADHD, and we think it can happen to anybody. It just happens to autistic people and people with ADHD more because we tend to overload faster, and we have more social and sensory demands on us constantly that most other people don't experience. And maybe it's the same mechanism as professional/artistic burnout, but it happens to your whole damn mind and body.

When it hits, you might not even be able to dress yourself in the morning. It can vary.

And both types of burnout happen on a spectrum of length and severity.

Some people talk about burnout that means they have to rest for a couple of hours. Like a daily limit. We don't consider that burnout, honestly. It's more like a brown out, or just a loss of that days spoons. It's a warning sign for longer burnout. If you keep hitting it, it's gonna get way worse.

But, a lot of people call it burnout, and we can't stop them.

Then there's burnout that lasts a few days. That's more like something we'd call burnout, but, we gotta tell you this, it's still really just a warning sign.

Like, your life and career can bounce back from that. You can call in, rest, and then get back to it.

But, if you keep hitting that wall and keep going back to your usual grind, it's gonna get worse.

Then you'll see a few autistics talking about burnout that lasts a couple weeks to a few months. There you're getting into dangerous territory. That can get you fired from a job, maybe even end your career. It can definitely put you in financial dire straights. But you might still be able to take a two week vacation and hobble back to what you were doing.

Then there's what we got: Burnout that lasts years, or is maybe permanent.

We hit systemic burnout in 2012, but we didn't know what was going on and we kept trying to push through it at half pace until 2014, after which we became permanently disabled. And we started having regular meltdowns and picked up involuntary stimming habits we never had before.

And we're still in it.

Unmasking and crying for help, finding a place where we could live with most of the accommodations we needed, all helped us to recover some of our previous function. And we also now know better never to try to act neurotypical again. But even if we tried, we could not possibly perform like we used to.

Part of our permanent disability is that we've also developed a number of chronic illnesses. More than one. They were actually already there, growing since childhood, but they got much, much worse from the stress.

But our burnout itself shows itself in lower thresholds for all tolerances, emotions, senses, everything. And a frequent blank mind most days.

And we're really starting to feel like it's pretty important that people learn to recognize these different types and levels, because a lot of the time they'll write shit like, "Burnout is like [this]. [This] is what happens during burnout." And they'll inevitably be describing something way more mild than what can actually happen, and they'll make it sound definitive.

And that's not doing anybody any good.

[ghost-town-story]

Hokay, I already know this isn't gonna be a fun update :P

TL:DR: I'm taking a sorta hiatus from writeblr. Basically a hiatus except for a couple of events at the end of November/beginning of December, and FebruarOC. No clue when I'll be back.

Longer version:

If you've been around here for any NaNo season since 2020, you may have noticed something weird happening, aka I stopped posting daily snips, and stopped giving excuses for it after the first two times. It was just a lotta hitting roadblocks with Knighttime Dreams and not wanting to push myself into writing something I'd be okay with sharing, and then falling out of the habit by the time I was writing stuff I'd be okay with sharing.

Which is probably because of the mild/major problem I've been having for at least the last year where me and actually writing down the shit I've plotted in my head have not been getting along. At All. And it really fuckin sucks! I took a break after last year's NaNo and after FebruarOC, and that didn't seem to do shit, and I tried writing every day and that still didn't do much (tho the fact I stopped when I went on vacation probably didn't help, but also. they were contextless snips. I like writing those, but there's a difference between that and Actually Plotted Shit), so. yeah. I dunno.

So yeah. Gonna step back from writeblr and make it official this time rather than just vanishing. I'll still be lurking as usual, I might try and fill some of the Find the Word tags and other assorted not-last-line tags I have sitting around, but I'm gonna be pretty quiet in terms of my own stuff. I'll do my usual NaNo roundup at the end of the month, I wanna do some Spotify Wrapped drabbles again, I have a thing planned for Dec 1 that I've been looking forward to since like... July, and I'm gonna come back for FebruarOC bc if I want it to become a widespread writeblr thing then goddammit I gotta do it myself (also it's fun. I'm not just doing it outta obligation lmao it's just a longer form of the contextless snips), but yeah. Other than planned events that I'm actually hella excited about despite this burnout/whatever the fuck my brain is doing to me, I'm just gonna dip for a while. Can't say when I'll be back for good, I don't wanna make promises and then feel bad when I can't keep them.

I'll be hanging around Discord tho, with my usual level of lurking/occasionally popping in for a comment, so in order of my likelihood to engage, you can still find me in CANS, North Haven, or WTW. I have channels in all those servers and I've been using the CANS one more for stuff that hasn't made it to tumblr, so uh. If you really wanna keep up with my writing you might have better luck there lol

So yeah. Sorry for rambling. There's a reason I put this under a cut lol

[violetjedisylveon]

SW Sapphic Week Day 5 - Sparring

Summary: Omega offers to teach Miara how to fight properly, giving her a chance to open up to someone, and if that someone happens to be the same someone she's been harbouring a crush on, it's a win win.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mild angst, implied abuse/medical abuse, trauma.

A/N: i have ap/may/school burnout rn(why days 2-4 are missing), but I still got this together! This is sorta a prequel to day 1, explaining how Miara and Omega got together!

I have little knowledge of fight choreography or stuff like thst so it's choppy but I gave it my best. If anyone knows or has a resource on learning how to write fight choreography, especially if it has all sorts of combat like swords and stuff, let me know!

Day 1, 6, 7

Ao3 link here.

________________________________________________________________________________

The last training droid hit the ground with a loud clatter, a few sparks sputtered out of it. Miara clapped, Omega was just as good with her hands in combat as she was with a blaster and her bow. Watching her take down the droids with nothing but her hands and witts was entrancing.

Her clapping startled Omega, who's head shot up in alarm. Her whole body went tense for a moment until she recognized her, then she relaxed. For a second, her cheeks flushed, but it faded quickly.

"Like the show?" Omega asked with an impish smirk.

"Yes, you're very good at what you do." Miara said, walking into the training room.

Omega smiled at her compliment. The bright grin made her seem far more alive and happy than she typically was. She always had an air of sadness around her, to be fair, most in the rebellion did, but Omega's seemed to go far deeper.

The Mandalorian usually kept to herself. Most rebellion members had at least one friend they spent the majority of their off time with, giving them someone who understood their pain or a distraction from it. Omega had nobody, yet she seemed to be fine with it.

Omega wiped the sweat off her forehead with a towel, for once, she wasn't wearing her signature red bandana, said bandana was tied around her water bottle. Without it, her bangs were falling into her face and sticking to her forehead. She swiped at them with an irritable grunt. Miara chuckled and received a short glare.

"Are you just going to stand there staring?" Omega asked.

Miara turned her head away slightly, her cheeks heating up slightly. She was keenly aware of Omega's suddenly sharp eyes on her.

"How are you with melee combat?" She asked.

"Uh, why?" Miara responded.

Omega looked her up and down, then wrinkled her nose.

"You look like a fighter pilot, and only a fighter pilot." Omega pointed out.

Miara scowled at the Mandalorian.

"What are you saying?"

Omega rolled her eyes and gave her an exasperated sigh.

"Can you fight? How are you in close quarters? Can you defend yourself from and armed opponent without weapons of your own?" Omega asked.

Miara didn't say a word. She was mostly a fighter pilot, and when she was on the ground, it was usually long ranged and utilizing explosives. She did have some basic self defense training but that was it. She knew for a fact she couldn't do any of what Omega had just done.

"I'll take that as a no." Omega rolled her eyes and tossed her towel down onto the bench.

She gestured for Miara to step onto the mat.

"C'mon, I'll show you how to fight properly." Omega said with a smirk.

Miara frowned and took off her sweater, she just had a dark green tank top on underneath, matching Omega's mostly black tank with patches of red on it.

"What exactly does that mean?" She asked, walking into the ring.

"I'll show you exactly what I'm talking about." Omega grinned.

The Mandalorian took a fighting stance, Miara adopted the basic self defense stance she had been taught. Feet at a side angle, knees facing feet, get the alignment right. Weight on balls of feet. She held her arms in a position ready to block any strikes.

They slowly circled each other. Omega's sharp eyes examined her, darting back and forth, Miara could see her clever mind working out the strengths and weaknesses of her stance, determining the best place to strike. Miara knew for a fact she would have no chance if she struck first, her best bet was to react to whatever Omega did, being a pilot meant she had an excellent reaction time, so she at least had something.

When Omega did strike, her movement was swift and fluid, Miara hardly had the time to block the swift strike, but Omega had anticipated that move and easily shifted from striking to grabbing and had both of Miara's arms pulled away from her body almost effortlessly. With a quick flash of a grin, Omega pinned her arms behind her back, gently but firmly so Miara couldn't shake loose.

"Okay, fine, I don't know as much as you do about fighting." Miara grunted.

Omega chuckled and let her arms go. Miara stepped back and faced the Mandalorian.

"I could teach you, I mean, if you want to learn, that is." Omega said with the slightest hint of embarrassment in her voice.

Miara swore Omega was blushing for a brief second then her cheeks color returned back to their normal tan. She made note of that possible advantage.

"Sure, I obviously need it." Miara said.

"Great! Er- what do you want me to show you? I know a couple fighting styles from training with different people." Omega said.

"Like what?" Miara asked, walking back into the room.

"I know some standard combat forms, Mandalorian combat, Echani, Teräs Käsi, and some other stuff. When I actually have to fight someone, I mix em up to confuse the opponent, it works pretty well." Omega explained as she demonstrated a starting defensive stance, it was similar to hers but different in the position of legs and body.

They spent the next couple of hours talking and training, just the two of them. By the time Omega decided to call it a day, Miara was out of breath, sweaty and exhausted but she felt great. Some of Omega's shell came off while they were training, her eyes had brightened, she laughed more, and was more open to talking. It was nice to see her so bright and joyful.

Omega grabbed her water and took a long drink, clearly, she was done for the day.

"So, same time tomorrow?" Miara asked.

Omega shot her a surprised look and almost coughed on her water. She sputtered for a second, then wiped her mouth and stared at her.

"Scuse me?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Should we do this again tomorrow?" Miara repeated.

"You want to do it again?" Omega asked.

"Of course, why wouldn't I? You're a great teacher." Miara smiled to herself as she headed off, unknowingly leaving Omega flustered and staring after her.

XXX

Miara sat down next to Omega on the break bench. It was her seventh day of training and she was improving, it wasn't nearly as exhausting as it had been a week ago. All the extra time around Omega had given her the chance to learn more about the elusive Mandalorian.

She hadn't gotten into any meaningful details about her life for a couple of days. Miara was content with just learning what she liked and didn't like, her favorite foods, books, planets she really wanted to visit, just normal conversation stuff.

Omega drank from her bottle, Miara found herself staring at the other woman. All this time around her had also allowed her to see her up close, Miara had already begun to notice things she wouldn't have otherwise.

Omega had a preference for her right arm, it was incredibly subtle and she had only begun to notice the small, nearly invisible marks on her arms, maybe because her muscles were distracting, but there were also small round marks on her shoulders, barely perceptible but there. She knew that someone with the training Omega had would be into dangerous lines of work so the injuries had a simple explanation.

That didn't stop her from wondering.

Omega seemed down today, she looked like she was weighed down by a huge load. She looked tired.

"Have we been doing too much?" Miara asked.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Omega raised an eyebrow at her.

"You look tired today." Miara pointed out.

"Oh, I'm just, today's not a good day, ya'know?" Omega flashed her a false grin.

She knew it was false because when she was really happy, the tattoo around her nose scrunched up slightly. She didn't bring it up.

"Where'd you get those?" She asked.

The intricate tattoos were only drawn on the right side of her face, the left half was left purposefully blank aside from one over her nose. Miara had never seen anything like them before.

"These?" Omega asked, pointing to her face.

Miara nodded, Omega brightened.

"They are Dathomirian tattoos. Nightsister. I spent some time on Dathomir as a teenager. I wanted isolation… instead I got a sister. I met a nightsister, Merrin, she's my age, she was alone and wanted company and I guess I was too, so I kinda just stuck around…"

"We became friends, good friends. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't run into her, probably dead. So we stuck together, got each other through the worst of it. We traded information, I taught her and she taught me." Omega sighed and touched the bridge of her nose lightly.

"This one here roughly means 'sister'." She said, pointing out the tattoo on her nose.

"It's the first one she gave me, so that I could look at myself and know someone cared. Then she gave me more as I got better with the Magick, she always added some extra meaning to them." Omega said wistfully.

"Wait, Magick?!" Miara exclaimed.

Omega blinked and glanced at her, then chuckled and snapped her fingers. A small, glowing green flame appeared above her hand. Omega waved her hand and it followed, leaving a small trail of glowing green embers. Miara found herself staring at Omega again.

Damn. She is impressive. She mused.

"She sounds really nice." Miara said.

"She is, like you." Omega said.

A subtle blush rose to her cheeks, the flame adopted a darker color in the center.

"I mean, you're nice too." She said slowly.

Miara chuckled and stood up, ready for another round.

"Wanna go again?" She asked.

"Are you sure you wanna fight me?" Omega asked with a lot more confidence in her voice.

She made a show of the glowing green flame in her hand. Miara smirked.

"I think I can handle you." She said.

"Oh really? Getting cocky, are we?" Omega rose from the bench and put the green flame out.

They stood opposite to each other, slowly circling, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Omega, again, struck first, instead of blocking, Miara ducked to the side to avoid her. She kept her eyes on Omega as she backed away. Omega smirked, impressed. Miara smiled back.

I can't wait to see how she reacts to this. She giggled internally. Admittedly, her grand plan was a little childish, but she wanted to do it and knew it would work.

Omega tried to charge her a few more times, Miara dodged her attacks. She only struck when it was safe to do so, like when Omega's back was facing her. She played it carefully and kept her distance.

Just a little longer. She thought. Omega would anticipate a dodge now, and she could let herself get caught. She'd get caught eventually.

This time when Omega charged, Miara didn't dodge and did let the Mandalorian pin her. She hadn't expected to be knocked into the wall behind her though. Omega pinned her arms and gave her a suspicious look when she just smirked. Her plan was going great.

"What are you smirking about?" Omega asked.

Miara grinned up at her.

"This."

She shot her head up like she was going for a headbutt, and gave Omega a quick kiss on the cheek. She felt Omega stiffen and her hold on her loosen, she pulled back and smiled at the blushing Mandalorian.

She was able to easily free her arms, using the distraction to her advantage but not pressing it like she could. She didn't want to trick Omega.

"Personally, I think I did better this time." Miara said.

Omega came out of her shock and scowled down at her.

"That's not gonna work with anybody." She scolded.

"But it worked on you." Miara pointed out.

Omega turned her head away in an attempt to hide her blush. Omega took a breath and glared at her.

"It's a cheap trick." She said.

"I think you liked it." Miara stated.

"And if I did?" Omega asked, the edge in her voice melting away.

"Well, we could do it again." Miara suggested, feeling heat in her cheeks.

She was comforted by the fact that Omega's face was turning red.

"I'd definitely like that." Omega said.

"Me too."

________________________________________________________________________________

Gay space witch Omega go brr

I don't care if you need to be Force sensitive to do Nightsister Magicks, Omega is gay and that gives her the ability to use it.

Also Omega is 100% taller than Miara.

I am very tired and finished this quickly so don't know if it's the best but it's fun and I like it so, eh!

I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!

VJS Out!