#i already said quite a bit and my adhd brain is like

[apathetic-revenant]

uh...hi?

[head pokes around corner]

so...

I've been back to scrolling around on tumblr for a bit now, and have been really wanting to get back to actually, y'know. being here. posting. not just sort of hanging here invisibly like a mournful ghost, observing but never interacting. that sort of thing. (revenants, after all, are supposed to be corporeal undead.)

but I really wanted to explain why I just kind of abruptly vanished in the first place. no one demanded this of me, but it felt like something I had to do. and then, in the typical way of self-imposed obstacles, it became a massive stumbling block. partly because of the nerves and emotions attached to it, sure, but mostly, tbh, because it was a Task. I recently (about 3 weeks ago now?) started seeing a new psychiatrist and got an adjustment to my ADHD meds which basically made my brain boot up again for the first time in way too long. this is great! but it means I am having to kind of slowly rehab my brain into getting used to doing Literally Anything again, one small step at a time. I am not being hyperbolic when I say I had to gradually build up my executive functioning for a while just to be able to write a tumblr post.

but fuck it! I really wanted to just do this already. so, while I'm sure I'll talk about all this in more detail later, for right now I'm gonna strip this down to the bare essentials just so I can get it done at all.

here's what happened:

in 2020 I had a sudden onset of extremely severe OCD.

no, not about the pandemic, actually. yeah I was anxious about the pandemic but it was a pretty normal level of anxiety for a global pandemic, honestly. my OCD took the form of scrupulosity--essentially, an obsessive worry about being a bad person.

tumblr is....not a GREAT place to be if you have a sudden obsessive fear of being a bad person.

now, to be clear: tumblr did not CAUSE my OCD, and leaving tumblr did not cure it. that's just not how OCD works. later on, I learned that atypical antipsychotics--one of which I had been prescribed around that time, for depression--have been known to cause OCD. is there any way to prove that that's what happened? probably not, at this point! so I've just been kind of sitting with that terrible knowledge for a while.

anyway. I would've had OCD anyway, but reading a regular stream of posts going "hey, here's a really terrible thing you might be doing! you might even be doing it without knowing it! you need to think really hard and be constantly vigilant all the time for any sign that you might be doing this thing!" was basically pouring gasoline on the fire.

I never made an active decision to leave tumblr--if I had I would've said something first. I just kind of thought "god, I can't do this right now" one day and didn't open the app, which turned into days and then weeks and then months, and still things weren't getting better.

it's hard to express exactly how harrowing that whole experience was. actually I just started thinking about it and realized I would never finish this post tonight if I tried to get into it just now. so I won't. let's just say: It Was Bad.

but, by an astronomical stroke of luck, I ended up getting referred to not just an OCD therapist, not just the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid, but the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid and also she was really good at her job. I genuinely think that woman saved my life.

OCD therapy is one of those "the only way out is through" kind of things. it's brutal and also quite surreal, but it has a high success rate and is very effective. OCD is not a thing that you can cure, per se, but it went from completely dominating every waking moment of my life to being something that I occasionally have to yell at in much the same way as when the cat starts knocking things off my desk at 3 in the morning.

but, the thing was, it took a year-and-a-bit before my therapist and I agreed that I had probably "graduated" as she put it. so, by the time I felt able to go back on tumblr without my brain catching on fire again, it had been so long that I didn't know how to do it. I felt like I'd pulled a major dick move by just dropping off without saying anything. I still thought about it (usually late at night, at Time To Think About Every Regret I've Ever Had O'Clock) but my brain very easily goes to a place of "well, no one would really notice or care that I was gone, and if they did they'd be mad at me for having left."

well. earlier this year I started on the road to getting past that idea. shoutout to @fordtato for helping with that, btw.

but it took me a while to work up the courage and then, as previously mentioned, even longer to work up the neurotransmitters.

I think I gotta wrap this up for now cause I don't have much concentration juice left. but, for what it's worth: I had a lot of emotions, coming back and seeing the names of people I used to talk to all the time. I don't know how you feel about me anymore, but I really missed yall. I would like to talk to you again.

[delicate-moon-princess]

that last ask has me thinking about soft daddy Henry who cares so much about your mental health. I have adhd (not bad but it’s there) and I really struggle with depression and anxiety in the wrong environment. I can just see daddy!Henry mode activated if you went to a party you didn’t know would be so loud and chaotic. He has you lean against a corner and breathe in sync with him, uses his charm to find a perfect excuse to leave. You’re all “I’ll be okay, we don’t have to go,” and he just gives you that daddy look like he can’t believe you would downplay your needs like that, and he low (high) key wants to spank you for it. And then he cuddles you all night long. But then if you get depressed (maybe you’re PMSing, maybe someone said something that triggered a bad thought cycle), he runs you a bubble bath and pours you a glass of wine and rubs your shoulders and snuggles you through your favorite Disney movie. And goodness help them, if someone did say something negative to you, but he would spend the night making you fall apart on his fingers and tongue until you forgot all about that silly person 🤭

(Henry is a big protective bear in this one, so a gif of Walter had to be used obviously.)

 Overwhelmed

A party gets out of hand when some harsh words are thrown around. Henry is there to pick up the pieces, but it’s not always so easy healing your broken mind. (Based on this original ask)

Warning: 18+ smutty content, RPF, minor alcohol consumption, bullying, minor violence, bad thoughts and self image, mental health issues, panic attacks, comfort, daddy kink (not exactly dd/lg, but could have undertones), oral (f receiving), Henry being a gentleman and expecting nothing in return 🤭, multiple orgasms

5.1k words

Any typos are my own

******

This was supposed to be a small get together. That’s what you were told. A plan for a few friends to gather for a couple drinks at home. Maybe you would play some board games.

But a few people quickly turned into loads. And a couple drinks was soon an incessant river of alcohol. Now you found yourself stuck in the middle of a jumping house party.

At least thirty sweaty bodies were packed into the mediocre sized home. And new faces seemed to be showing up every minute. And the only person you knew in this place, Henry, had left to go get you some water when he saw you start to panic. 

This definitely wasn’t your kind of crowd.

Miraculously, he had found a quiet corner for you to wait in. So that is where you waited for him, as patiently as you could. You did your best to remain calm as the loud music thudded in the other room. The vibrations rattled your throbbing head. You leaned against the wall in the empty hallway, sighing.

Why did social gatherings like this overwhelm you? It always seemed like a good idea in theory. A place to meet with people, an opportunity to make new friends. But your imbalanced brain had a way of ruining things. You could never enjoy yourself. And you were sure you weren’t a joy to be around when you got overstimulated like this.

Wait for Henry, you told yourself. Don’t get too worked up. He will be back soon.

You heard footsteps approaching, so you lifted your head with a weak smile. You were expecting him to return, and all would be well again. Only it wasn’t him. Instead it was the host of the party, the one who told you it was a small gathering.

Jake. A friend of Henry’s. One that always gave you bad vibes. You bit your tongue with your bad feelings about him. If your man liked him, so should you. You were being paranoid. As always.

“Hi, Jake.” You wiped the anxious sweat from your brow, offering him a polite smile. “Quite the party.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you left already.” His voice seemed to be laced with distaste, but you figured you were imagining it. 

“I’m waiting for Henry. He left to get us some water.” You explained, wiping your damp palms on your thighs.

“Your little errand boy, right?”

“H-Huh?” You uttered in confusion. Errand boy?

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you? You say jump and he says how high.” He spat, crossing his arms

“Jake, I’m not-” Perhaps you were about to stick up for yourself, but he cut you off again so the words died in your throat.

“He can’t seem to go anywhere without you tagging along. Asking him for a guys night is like pulling teeth. Always spending time with the old ball and chain. You’re nagging him 24/7, aren’t you?” He scoffed.

“No, I…” You trailed off, thinking long and hard. Did you nag him?

Jake gave you hardly any time to think before spurting out more insults.

“Y’know I never could see what he saw in you. No one can. The man can get anyone. Everyone knows that. So why does he go and pick a ugly slag like you?” He jabbed, and you felt your eyes prick.

Your chest tightened. That was a question you asked yourself everyday. Everytime you woke up next to Henry. When he greeted you with a kiss and a smile. A beautiful way to start the day. But deep down it made you feel vulnerable. 

What did you do to deserve him? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were nobody. A nobody with a broken mind. 

“Why don’t you leave so the man can actually have some fun for once?” He was right. 

You blinked and didn’t say anything. You took his advice though, wobbling away as your heart began to beat quicker. You had to get out of here. The front door never seemed so far away.

You could already feel yourself spiraling as you rounded the corner to the living room. It was packed and loud. More people shuffled into your sight range. With each new face, it felt harder to breathe. You were suffocated.

You inhaled shakily, stumbling a little. You collided with a hard body, and as you were about to whip around a pair of hands cupped your shoulders. You tried to turn and apologize, but the person spoke.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Henry. You looked at him, taking in his features. He was here to protect you. But why weren’t you able to calm down? 

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. Everything was muffled. The people, the music, his voice. It all sounded far away. Like you were underwater. 

Your breathing was labored, your brain dissociating when the panic almost overtook you. The only way you were going to survive this was by detaching your mind from your body.

You felt yourself being moved. His solid presence was behind you, holding you by your shoulders. Your attention was focused on the floor. Pairs of shuffling shoes invaded your vision as he guided you through the crowd.

The fresh air entered your lungs when he got you outside. Cool and refreshing, unlike the stuffy hot air inside the house. Your hands shook as you reached up to hold your face, hiccuping when you were forced back to reality.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.” His hand gently laid on your back, not crowding you.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe in against my hand here.” He placed his other palm on your stomach, a gentle reminder to breathe in through your diaphragm.

You closed your eyes, inhaling as you concentrated on not panicking. Your breathing was shaky but it did wonders to calm you. His soft voice rang in your ears, praising you.

“There she is, good girl. I knew you could do it, I knew you could work yourself down.” He murmured. 

He stroked your moist cheek, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. You leaned into his touch, your rapid heart slowing.

“Darling, what happened in there?” His face showed his worry.

“I… I got a little overwhelmed. That’s all.” You murmured while glancing down at the ground. He didn’t need to know about your encounter with Jake.

He rubbed the base of your neck sympathetically. He could tell there was more. Something was bothering you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize it would be so crowded.” He kissed your temple as he apologized.

“It’s alright. Neither of us could have known Jake would invite everyone he knew.” You gave him a weak smile, shaking your head.

You thought you kept your tone even while speaking about that wretched man. Henry caught it. He didn’t let his surprise be known. He was confused by your sudden annoyance towards Jake, who you tolerated before.

“Let’s go home, princess. I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.” He took your hand, kissing your knuckles while giving you a dazzling smile.

You frowned, disappointed in yourself for not being able to handle a simple house party. He had seemed really excited about this get together. Even as more people showed up, he kept his smile and light heartedness. That was until your mood had dropped.

Jake was right. Henry couldn’t have fun with you around. You ruin everything. Quickly, you had to fix this.   

“No, no- I’m okay. I-I only needed a breather.” You shook your head frantically, swallowing. You grimaced when you realized how dry your throat was.

His expression dropped slightly, resembling a scold. He held the water out to you after opening it, silently urging you to drink. You took the bottle sheepishly, sipping from it slowly. 

“We’re not staying here anymore. We need to go home and decompress. Both of us.” He sighed when you pouted, softening his features as he rubbed your shoulders. He leaned in, kissing between your brows as you furrowed them.

“I really need to snuggle my favorite girl right now, okay? We can have a nice bubble bath. I’ll wash you up then maybe we can watch a movie after I get you into some warm pajamas.” He leveled with you, cupping your cheek.

“Okay...” You smiled weakly. Cuddling with him sounded better than anything. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He started to turn towards the car.

“Hey, you two!” A voice called out from behind you, a familiar one that made you both freeze. For different reasons.

Henry spun around first, a grin on his face as he greeted his friend. They embraced in a hug as you turned slowly, trying to keep a polite smile. You hoped Jake would just let you two go without any snide comment.

The man in question spared you a glance as Henry patted his shoulder. 

“Hey, man. This has been quite the party. Y/N and I had a great time.” 

“Really? You’re leaving so soon.” Jake questioned, his brow raising in suspicion.

“Oh, I’ve got an early meeting in the morning. My manager contacted me with some stuff about emergency re-shoots. You know how it goes, man.” He quickly came up with a solid excuse, smooth as ever.

“Yeah, I know how it goes. It’s whatever the lady says right, pal?” Jake took a hearty swig of his beer, staring your man in the eye as his face dropped. You shifted on your feet, looking down in shame.

 “Sorry?” 

“Tell me, does she carry your balls around in her purse? Because you seem to have lost your pair.” He bit out viciously, the liquid courage burning in his chest.

“What did you just say?” Henry reared up, taking one long stride to get right in the other man’s face. 

His brows were pinched angrily. Jake’s eyes widened in the slightest, but the alcohol in his system was making him braver. He didn’t back down.

“You heard me. Ever since she’s been tagging along, you’ve turned into an utter bore. Must be some good pussy, because it seems to have sucked the life out of you.” He spit.

The anger that flashed on your boyfriend’s face was bone-chilling. In the blink of an eye, he had the smaller man’s collar clenched in his fists. Yanking him upwards, Henry shook him while growling.

“Do you think the fact that you’re hammered is going to keep me from punching your teeth in? I’m going to make you regret disrespecting her.” He growled dangerously.

You finally came to your senses when you saw him pull his fist backwards. Jake flinched. Thankfully you were able to stop your boyfriend before his knuckles were to connect with the drunk’s jaw.

“Don’t.” You gasped softly, catching his gaze while holding his arm in both of your hands. His eye twitched as his fist clenched tighter. You felt the tendons in his forearm jerk. You squeezed reassuringly.

You shook your head silently, a wordless plea for him to not escalate this. Punching him would only make things worse. Jake wasn’t worth it.

The anger dissipated from his face as he gazed at you. He lowered his fist, while his other hand on Jake’s collar loosened. Henry was about to let him go completely, until Jake scoffed under his breath.

“Pfft. Pussy-whipped.”

The actor’s face twisted once more. You sighed, cursing the hammered bastard mentally. He wasn’t making this any easier. You could tell Henry was still itching to beat him mercilessly. Said man grunted, your hand falling from his arm as he gripped Jake’s collar once more.

The large man lifted the smaller one off the ground. At least three feet upwards before tossing him on the grass in the front yard. You grimaced as he fell on his back in a heavy heap. Luckily Henry chose to drop him in the grass, as opposed to the pavement. 

You could see Jake’s ego wounded immediately, and you would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. You crossed your arms, holding in a sigh as Henry bent down to talk to him.

“Don’t bother trying to apologize tomorrow when you sober up. Or else I’ll be forced to come back here and finish what I started.” He stood up, glaring at him for one last moment before he turned to you.

“Let’s go.” He whispered, walking behind you as he led you to the car. He kept you from even sparing at glance at Jake.  

You were silent as he got you in the car, looking down at your lap as he got in the driver's seat. He looked at you, you could feel his stare burning into you. Shame kept you from looking at him.

“Darling… Did Jake say something to you earlier?” He finally broke the silence. 

You opened your mouth, before closing it with a nod. Tears welled up as you recalled his hurtful words. From earlier in the night, and from now.

“What did he say to you?” He prodded.

You finally looked at him, and his jaw ticked when he saw your puffy eyes. Right then, he felt like going back and beating that idiot to a pulp for making his baby girl cry.  Your sniffles broke his heart.

“I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.” You hiccuped, shaking your head. 

“Is that what got you so upset?” His voice was soft, almost broken with guilt. He should have never left you alone. 

You shrugged, Jake’s badgering surely didn’t help your already overstimulated mind. Henry bit his lip as he was forced to push away his anger to comfort you. He stroked your hair, rubbing your shoulder.

“Baby..” He trailed off, being interrupted by you.

“I just want to go home. And take that bubble bath you promised.” You begged, causing him to sigh and let it go for now. He gave you a smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Let's go home.” He kissed your cheek before pulling away, turning the car on and driving.

Your eyelids were heavy, your head resting on your hand. You let them close for the rest of the car ride home. Your silence was making him want to squirm, but he did his best to not show his displeasure. It killed him to see you so upset.

When he parked he was sure you had fallen asleep, but you surprised him by lifting your head. He turned the car off, reaching to cup your cheek.

“Are you okay, my baby girl?” He searched your face for any more signs of tears. He saw only the dried streaks from earlier. 

You gave him a weak smile, and it did little to mend his broken heart. He matched your smile though, stroking your hair away from your face as you leaned into his hand.

“I’m okay. I promise.” Your voice was softer, smaller.

He leaned forward to kiss you, and you kissed back half heartedly. Henry pulled away, knowing you were still trying to put on a brave face for him.

His brave girl. You didn’t always have to be strong. That’s what he was here for. He wasn’t going to push you. You would talk to him eventually. You always did. 

“Let’s get inside, pumpkin.” He kissed your knuckles before getting out of the car. Of course he opened your door and helped you out.

You held his hand as he led you inside. He knelt in front of you once he closed the door, working on taking your heels off for you.

“You look so beautiful tonight… I still can’t believe you gave a man like me even a chance.” He murmured the last part to himself, rubbing your ankles when your shoes were gone.

You couldn’t quell the quiver of your lip. You’re the one who didn’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. Jake was right. What does a man like him see in a woman like you?

You masked with a smile, stroking his hair as he kissed your clothed hips. He watched you carefully, still on his knees in front of you.

“What do I have to do for you to see how perfect you are?” He whispered as he nuzzled your stomach, squeezing you close.

You hiccuped quietly. Your fingers weaved into his hair, feeling his silky curls between your digits. The sensation calmed you a little.

Soon, his warmth pulled away and when you opened your eyes again, he was standing. He cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing your flesh.

“I promised you a bubble bath. Come on, sweetheart.” He bent down to kiss your nose. You smiled lightly. 

You both went into the master bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet lid. He turned to mess with the knobs on the large tub. The water filled the basin, then he added bubbles. 

You took a deep breath, the soft smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled your nostrils. The scent caused you to relax, the sound of the water lulling you into a calm state.

Henry stood up, helping you stand and start to undress. His fingers unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the tile floor. You shivered when his digits trailed over your form. They hooked on your panties and pulled them down your legs.

He helped you into the tub, and you let out a sigh as you sunk into the warm, scented water. The bubbles covered your chest, and you let yourself rest for a second. He stroked your hair, an added comfort to the warm bath.

“How does that feel, darling?” He spoke softly, his hands disappearing. You heard liquid being poured into a glass.

The sneaky devil had snagged a bottle of your favorite wine before coming up here. He was pouring it into the stemmed glass. Somehow you hadn’t noticed he grabbed it. He glanced back at you with a smirk. How did he know exactly what you needed?

“It feels perfect.” You whispered, in awe of this man. He handed you the wine, and you took a smooth sip. You hummed.

Well, it was almost perfect. There was one thing missing.

“Come in with me?” You blinked up at him, your hand wrapped around his wrist when he went to sit beside the tub.

He melted, nodding his head instantly. Anything you wanted, he would not hesitate to give to you. And anything he couldn’t do, it killed him that he wasn’t able to fulfill your every need. Thankfully, this was a simple request. He began to undress as you set the glass aside.

You watched him unashamed. This beautiful man was yours. All yours. You felt your heart begin to swell. As it always did when you thought about the fact that you were his and he was yours.

How did something like that happen to someone like you? It was unbelievable.

You scooted forward as he lowered himself in. He dragged you back into his chest after he was seated, making you relax in his embrace. He began to wash you, his breath ghosting over your shoulder as he kissed it.

“It kills me seeing you so upset.” Henry finally spoke after a lull of comfortable silence.

You pouted, feeling guilty about worrying him. Before you could open your mouth to apologize, he cut you off.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” He turned your head, looking at you seriously. “None of this is your fault.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing your apology as he stroked your cheek. He sighed to himself as he traced your lower lip with his thumb.

“It took every ounce of my self control not to beat him to a bloody pulp for disrespecting you.” His voice was flat.

The protective tone he held made your heart skip a beat, and a tingle to grow between your legs. A smile ghosted your lips, your hand coming up to cup his face.

“I know. I’m starting to think I should have let you.” You cracked a smile. A real one.

“I would have. All you have to do is ask.” He turned to kiss your palm. You laid your head on his shoulder, his arms around you making you feel safe. 

“I know you would.” 

Your words had the whisper of sadness. He was perfect. Too perfect for you. There must be a catch. Henry kissed the top of your head, squeezing you gently.

“Do you want to talk about what he said to you?” He murmured, dragging the washcloth down your arms.

You sighed, his touch easing you enough to talk about it. You tell him your encounter with Jake, from the very beginning. Tears burned in your eyes as you retold the story, but they didn’t fall as you repeated his hateful words.

“He said you were too good for me. And no one understands what you see in me.” You looked at him, blinking away your tears. You don’t tell him the harsher words Jake uttered to you. No reason for him to get angry again.

“And you believed him.” It wasn’t a question. He could tell by your expression that the drunk’s words resonated deep within you. 

You shrugged. He kissed the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. He sighed, his nose pressed against your skin.

“I wish I had the words to change your mind, my love. I don’t like the way you view yourself. While you think I’m too good for you, I believe in the opposite. It is you who is too good for me.

Every morning when I wake up next to you, I always ask myself one thing. ‘What did a fool like me do to deserve such an amazing, beautiful woman?’. I still don’t have an answer.”

He kissed the side of your face, his lips next to your ear. You shivered, hanging onto every word as his hands rubbed your sides.

“But I try not to dwell on it. Because every moment I spend with you is a gift. And I much rather enjoy it and then spend our time together stressing.”

You nuzzled him as he squeezed you. You sniffled, his words calming your woeful heart. You pressed your lips to his cheek, whispering against his skin. 

“Thank you, Henry. You always know how to fix things.”

“Anything for my precious girl. Anymore wine, sweetheart?” He offered you the almost empty glass. You shook your head, gesturing for him to finish it.

He winked at you and tossed it back. You watched as his tongue came out to lick the rest off his lips. Your mouth watered. His taste was intoxicating by itself, mixed with the sweet wine it had to be heavenly.

 You decided not to wonder any longer, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, deepening the kiss as he stroked your tongue with his. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his half hard cock twitch against your spine.

He grunted, smirking as he nipped at your lower lip. He squeezed your hips, pulling away. His nose brushed against yours.

“Let’s get out and dry off, shall we? Get into some warm pajamas and then you can pick a movie to watch.”

You grinned as you started to brainstorm about which movie you were going to pick. You were off in your own world as he helped you out of the tub. He quickly dried himself. Then gently patted your body dry with a fresh towel.

You hummed a soft tune, a sign to Henry that you were starting to feel like yourself again. The material of the soft towel was making you relax. Your skin still smelled of vanilla, as did his. 

He kissed the top of your head after he was done, both of you still nude until he wrapped the towel around you. You kept stealing glances at his naked form. He smirked to himself.

“Go wait for me on the bed. I’ll pick out something comfortable for you to wear.” He pecked your lips, patting your side to urge you towards the bedroom.

You bit your lip and nodded, leaving him in the bathroom. You made sure you weren’t dripping any water before sitting on the edge of the bed. You grabbed the remote, browsing for something to watch.

Henry entered, fully clothed now as he held a pair of clothes for you in one hand. In the other, a bottle of lotion.

“I’ll get you dressed, but first-lotion.” He knew your routine.

You smiled at him, watching him massage the lotion into your shoulders and arms. He lowered the towel to get your back as he sat behind you. Your eyes were closed, listening to his breathing as he lathered you up.

His large hands spread over your chest. He weighed your breasts in his palms as his thumbs lightly grazed your nipples. You moaned softly, leaning into him. His lips touched your ear, kissing his way down your neck and shoulder.

“Lay back sweet girl.” 

You did so, gazing up at him as he stood at the end of the bed. He gathered some more lotion, rubbing into your feet. You groaned in delight when he massaged your aching soles. The sensation made you melt.

You felt his lips on the sensitive skin on your foot, gently kissing your heel, and each of your toes. He gave the other foot the same attention. His fingers creeped up your legs till he was squeezing your thighs. 

Your legs spread instinctively, presenting your core to him. His eyes became half lidded as a pleased growl tumbled from his lips.

“So beautiful. Every inch of you, darling. There’s not a part of you I don’t love.” He tugged you up on the bed, lowering himself down on his stomach between your legs.

Your breath shook when you felt his mouth against the inside of your thighs. He peppered kisses along your skin as he lifted his hands. You gasped as his fingers bumped your clit. 

“Please, Daddy.” You needed more, squirming in front of him as he teased you.

“Shh, baby girl. Daddys got you. You don’t have to beg. I’m gonna taste this perfect cunt either way.” His breath hit your center as he leaned closer, covering your slit with his mouth as soon as he ended his sentence.

His tongue was hot as it weaved between your lips, seeking out the bundle of nerves hiding. His wet appendage swirled the bead once, twice, before he puckered his lips around it. Henry suckled gently, his large hands holding your thighs apart.

You arched your back and moaned, the stimulation making your gut tighten. You reached down to hold onto his hair, tugging lightly when he gave your clit another suck. You couldn’t help it

He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, moaning against your flower as you held onto his curls. He gazed up at you, admiring the look of pleasure on your face. His tongue explored further down, dipping into your leaking hole

You bucked against his mouth, panting as your heart started to thud quickly. Incoherent groans left your mouth as you wiggled on the bed. He held you in place, snarling as he increased the pace of his tongue and lips. You tensed.

He pulled the orgasm from you with skill, your body rolling. Moans of wanton pleasure escaped you, falling apart from his lips. Your skin didn’t stop tingling until he finally pulled away.   

You panted and opened your eyes when his mouth disappeared. His lips and chin were shiny, his smirk large as you got bashful at the sight of him.

“Mmm, you taste delicious. As always. Wish I could eat you all day.” He growled, one of his hands going back to your pussy. Your jaw dropped open as he traced your puffy slit.

You inhaled as he sunk a finger into you, your hole closed around it eagerly as you clenched down. He moaned under his breath, his gaze attached to the way your body swallowed his digit inside. 

“So tight, baby girl. It feels so nice to just relax and let Daddy make you feel good, doesn’t it? I love seeing you squirm. I want you to cum again. Can you do that for Daddy, beautiful?”  

You nodded quickly. He added a second finger, almost like he knew you needed it. You concentrated on the feeling of his fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls. He found your special spot with no problem, growling when you let out a cry.

“There you go, good girl.” He grunted, shaking his fingers inside you. You squealed, and Henry moaned at the sound. “Cum for me, princess. Cum for daddy.”

He toyed with your g-spot, his lips finding your nub again. The sensations all blended together, and soon you lost yourself in another orgasm. You sobbed, gripping his head between your thighs and you arched off the bed.

He gulped down all that you gave, rutting his fingers into you to pull you through the tendrils of euphoria. Your body relaxed as your orgasm subsided. He finally pulled away with one last lingering lick of your cunt.

“Are you still with me, gorgeous?” He chuckled when you hummed and nodded lazily. “Did you decide on a movie to watch?”

You pouted silently as you glanced down at his groin. He was obviously aroused, yet wasn’t expecting you to return the favor. You wanted to take care of him. Your hand rested on his thigh. He chuckled, lifting your hand to kiss it. 

“That’s nothing for you to worry about right now, darling. You need to rest. Now, have you decided on a movie?” He questioned you again.

“Lilo and Stitch.” You murmured as he stood up, your gaze following him.

“Lilo and Stitch it is then.” He grinned leaning over you to peck your lips. You could taste a hint of your own essence on his tongue.

Henry dressed you in the warm pajamas he picked out of you beforehand. You sighed in content, smiling up at him as he switched on the movie. He smiled back at you, scooting onto the bed and pulling you close. You snuggled him, your face in his chest.

“I love you, Darling. Don’t ever forget that. No matter how bad your thoughts might get, I want you to remember how much I love you. You mean everything to me.” His voice vibrated in his chest, and you lifted your head to fixate on him.

“I love you, Henry. You’re my everything. I don’t think I could live without you.” You whispered, your eyes locked.

“Good thing you won’t have to. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” He smiled, kissing you with a pleasant hum. You giggled.

“Now let’s watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’. Who’s the little blue guy again?”

******

A/N: Slowly chipping away at my inbox. Thank you for your patience as I slowly complete your requests. I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for months. Some things in my personal life have affected my mental health negatively, and I haven't been writing as much. Recently I've been easing my way back into writing, and I want to start being more active on here. I love you all, I feel like I don't tell you that enough. I’m sorry when I go MIA 😭❤️

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602

[karlachismylife]

How do you think the 141 feels about weed?

Oh buddy, I'm sure there are people on this site that can give you a better answer, cuz weed is very much illegal in my country, and I fumbled my two-three chances to get in on the fun cuz I have actually quite the law-abiding friend circle (meaning I am the only one who ever got arrested and that was for protesting, yeah), so I actually have very limited understanding what's it like. But I do have internet and I am watching media, so I'll try to think about it.

CW: weed smoking, just in case, mentions of addiction

I feel like Ghost would actually benefit from it a lot. Once he gets stabilized without it and stops seeing nightmares every night, he can actually enjoy the relaxed state it puts him in, all the yelling in his brain dumbed down to a white noise static. It's not a reliable treatment for PTSD, but it works to just slow him down and get him out of the constant sympathetic nervous system response. He would be wary of the negative effects though, cuz even one bad sesh can fuck him up BAD. And also he probably has a few tons of baggage about any drug use considering his backstory, but I like a "actually got a grip on it and not falling apart anymore" Ghost, so he's worked through the most painfull issues already. So yeah, Ghost - sometimes smoking for medical reasons (maybe he even thinks it's better than taking too many pills). And he mostly just gets eepy from it.

Price one hundred percent smoked when he was younger. Probably with Nikolai, lol, that man just saw this green Lieutenant with the weight of the whole world on his shoulders and decided to help poor baby John out by loosening him up a bit. That came out wrong, but also right, oops. It's totally about that fucking stress of constant responsibility, the heaviness of allllll the decisions he had to make, and the never-ending grind to be even better. Now, I think, he's not too keen on it, cuz it just leaves him sloppier, all that filtration system in his body working a little worse (probably from all the times he got toxins in his system and nearly overdosed on pills to keep himself in working condition instead of taking a break), so it just has too long of an effect to his liking. He's relaxing with a normal cigar and whiskey or a pint now, it just more controllable for him. But if you manage to get him on vacation or something, he won't refuse probably. Might actually just fall asleep, but mostly it has effect on his body, it just visibly relaxes. Probably takes off some of that back pain too.

Gaz would be on the fence morally about it, cuz he just has the strictest moral code out of them all in my opinion, in the sense that he doesn't want to bend his own rules (but he totally can bend someone else's). So he might've been apprehensive about weed at first, but once he built a more nuanced worldview, he probably started considering it not that big of a deal, maybe not evil at all. Probably not embracing it to the point of regularly having, but if you're having fun, he'll have fun too. I also love rave scene Gaz, so when he's on leave he's probably even more chill about it. I do think he would prefer edibles though. Ohhh bake him some special brownies! That's what he can't say no to. He's even more fun when he's high, but sometimes a switch clicks and he gets into some deep philosophical shit (that actually makes sense, because he's too smart). Talks for three hours straight, gets his throat sore and tongue dry, makes references to ancient greek phlosophers, marxism and Albert Camu. Probably ends up making out with someone who didn't get half of what that man just said, but wow, how did he say that...

Soap is the one who should NEVER have access to weed, but you look away for a moment and he's chewing on an edible. His ADHD gets horrible under influence, he can't keep a train of thought even for two minutes, his body isn't hyperactive, but his mind is just a whirlwind of colours, sounds, impulses and sensations. He's the "show him a finger and watch him laugh to tears for fifteen minutes straigt " type, but if he keeps adding more on top of what he consumed just now, he might actually harm himself. He'll just lose control and spiral with all the impulsiveness and confusion of an uninhibited ADHD brain, and he knows that, so he's never doing it alone just to be safe, poor baby. Draws A LOT while he's high, actually, and it looks different from his usual sketches. He might actually like the weed ones more, so it's a possible incentive for him to keep consuming. I wouldn't say he's addicted or anything, but he has obvious troubles with self-control.

[fairyboygenius]

everywhere, everything

simon “ghost” riley x original female character

a/n: new title how we feeling! laying groundwork mostly, we’ll get into more concrete plot very soon :) also if you requested something from the build-a-hybrid ask game i’m SORRY the brain worms have taken me over those’ll hopefully start coming out soon :) love love love you guys

no warnings :)

fic under the cut i kiss you on the forehead

As expected, Allie met everyone at breakfast the next morning.

She had woken up early, sleep schedule still fucked up by jet lag and the lack of a routine. Her routines took months to build up, but only a couple days of missing one could ruin it. Allie’s regulation was like a Jenga tower, and outside circumstances that disrupt routines always pulled the blocks that caused it to collapse.

But, whatever. At least there was room for her Keurig in her room. And Lola seemed to like the dog bed Laswell had purchased for her.

Allie showed up to the mess hall about five minutes early, sipping her sweet coffee as she leaned against the wall. Her military-issue cargo pants weren’t quite flattering- tight around her apron stomach and hips, loose everywhere else- but they were, functionally, just pants. Besides, her ass looked pretty great.

Still, as she fidgeted, twirling the ends of her braids, unease sat deep in her weary bones. These men, some of the best the SAS had to offer, were going to be her teammates and comrades. She’d patch up their wounds, they’d keep going out and getting hurt. Such was the cycle of an army medic. They’d be grumpy but hopefully grow to respect and tolerate her. She’d long accepted the community she longed for was not often found among war-hardened soldiers.

That didn’t stop her from hoping.

A loud, broguish Scottish accent bouncing off the high ceilings shook her out of her reverie. She looked up, spotting three men heading towards her from the same direction she had come from. These must be her hall mates, and future patients/pains in her ass.

The voice seemed to belong to the one in the middle, his close-cropped mohawk in desperate need of some styling. His blue eyes sparked, and his gait was hyper in a way that convinced Allie fairly quickly that he had ADHD. He’d be fun, she thinks- good for a drink after a stressful mission, or some sleep deprived conversations in a tent in Somalia.

The man on his left was a bit taller, bronzed skin glinting against a plain white T-shirt. He looked up then, smiling at her, and she managed a tired smile back.

As the group approached, her eyes quickly skated over the third member of the group. Taller than them both, black skull balaclava. Black hoodie and jeans. Something sparked in her chest seeing the way his thighs strained against jean fabric, his broad shoulders and big, gloved hands.

Down, girl.

“Hey, you’re our new medic?” The man who had smiled at her was standing right in front of her now. “I’m Kyle. Kyle Garrick, but they call me Gaz.” He gestured to his friends. “Mohawk is Soap, ski mask is Ghost.”

“Gaz, Soap, Ghost.” Allie nodded, pointing at each of them to associate the names with their faces. “I’m sure you’ve already been briefed on me, but I’m Allie. And this-“ Lola sat, as though she knew she was being introduced- “is Lola. She’s my service dog.”

Gaz nodded. “You waiting on breakfast?”

Allie let out a breathy laugh. “Woke up way too early. Fuckin’ jet lag.”

“Ah, tha’s righ’, yer American.” Mohawk-Soap- grinned. “Bit o’ a long trek for ye, then.”

“All this way for little ol’ us,” Gaz said, his voice teasing. “C’mon, the doors should be open. We’ll see what they have. Maybe we can get ya a full English.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I hate baked beans. The texture…” Allie shuddered. “Also, I don’t know what’s in blood sausage, and I’m frankly really scared to ask.”

“Smart lass.” Soap maneuvered to the front of the group, leading them through the line. Because of the jostling, Allie ended up in the back, just in front of Ghost. She turned back, giving him a friendly smile- it seemed like something she should do- and he just nodded back at her.

Not too disappointing, she hadn’t been expecting much more from ski mask guy. Not like he could smile back. But she had at least hoped to catch a glimpse of his eyes crinkling or some other indication.

Christ, she looked good.

Her hair wasn’t just red, as Simon had seen it in that photo- it was a plethora of colors. Copper, scarlet, rust, burgundy. Streaks of blonde framed her face, escaping from those goddamned braids. They caressed her freckled skin- oh, yeah. She had freckles. A line over her nose, dark brown pinpricks like stars against tan skin. Big brown eyes avoided eye contact, lashes framing them delicately. Teeth sunk into her plush bottom lip, examining the food options in the line. Full English, as Gaz had predicted. No blood sausage, but baked beans slopped on red trays, the liquid overflowing and coating the eggs in bean sauce.

Allie politely refused the beans and just got eggs and toast, and the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stood up. She had the slightest Southern accent. It wasn’t blatant, but there was something about the way she drew out her vowels that reminded him of sweet iced tea and wraparound porches. (He didn’t know much about the South.)

She was wearing a black long sleeve, almost skin tight, and the military-issued cargo pants that had no business looking that good on her. It was easy to let his eyes trail over the sway of her hips, the muscles in her thighs flexing under soft flesh, her plush ass. He almost forgot to tell the worker serving food what he wanted.

“Tha’ tea o’ coffee, lass?” he could hear Soap asking from all the way across the mess hall as he walked over and sat down across from her.

Allie took a sip from her travel mug. “Coffee. Milk and two sugars. I’ve never been much of a tea person. It’s just leaf water.”

“And coffee is just bean water.” The words come out of Simon’s mouth before he can stop them. Allie raised an eyebrow at him, a slight smirk on her features.

“Not a fan of bean water, I take it?”

“He’s a proper Brit,” Gaz said. “Only drinks coffee when he’s sleep deprived and we’re out of English Breakfast. What you got against tea?”

Allie shrugged, leaning down to scratch Lola’s head absentmindedly. “Oh, I like it. I just like coffee better, I guess.”

“We all ‘ave our preferences, right, Lt.?” Soap tried to goad him, but Simon just grunted and went back to his breakfast.

“Even if they’re wrong,” he grumbled, and Allie shot him a little smile, eyes glimmering with mirth. She playfully rolled her eyes, sipping from her coffee.

Breakfast was only 45 minutes, but they didn’t have anything scheduled until training at 0930- that’s when they found out Allie had been given a laminated schedule by Laswell last night- so they lingered. Simon learned that Allie’s laugh- or at least the version of it she did around others- sounded like wind chimes, light and musical. His deadened heart fluttered as she caught his eye. She looked away quickly, but that didn’t stop the blush from blooming on his cheeks. Thank fuck they were hidden.

Somehow, they all ended up moving as a unit. Allie was sandwiched between Soap and Gaz, looking a bit caught off guard. She had ended up roped into an argument about… something. Simon wasn’t listening to the specifics. He was more so focused on staring at the way Soap placed a hand on her waist, which Allie quickly moved away. Didn’t make a fuss of it or anything. It was fascinating, really, how she didn’t say anything or act like anything was wrong, yet Johnny still looked a bit like a wounded puppy at the rejection.

“This is where I leave you.” Allie stopped in front of the gym door, extracting herself from the group. “I gotta to the medbay to help out for a bit- apparently, there’s a big group coming back from an intense mission. It was so nice to meet y’all, and I’ll see you at lunch. C’mon, Lola.” She tugged at her service dog’s leash.

Simon had to plant his feet to the ground to stop himself from following.

[edge-oftheworld]

Im bored so go ahead and psychoanalyze me. Lukes lane btw (tied between him and michael but i saw you already did someone with michael and lukes almost exactly tied). Go ahead and look at my blog if you want but its mostly reblogs.

ooh I didn't realise this would get so popular! I'll go with your tie bc I like to try do it as authentically as possible. just taking a little bit to get my bearings and my head out of You're In Your Midtwenties

I can see the muke fan in you, your blog gives off enthusiasm and excitement and ambition, maybe not the kind of ambition people usually think of but you know what you love and you're passionate about and you're very self-motivated about it. you love making things fun and that's a strategy that's going to serve you forever--no task is boring with you, because with the power of friendship and creativity you know how to make it into a game or a fun adventure and that's gonna make everything a lot more doable, and a lot less tiring throughout your life. some people are going to judge you for that, but more and more you're realising that your true friends appreciate it and admire it about you, as they should!

you have acquaintances who think you're cool and wish they could be part of the fun productivity. you probably think they're really cool too, or maybe you're jealous of them (because as hard as you try to be confident you do get insecure sometimes). but if you said hi to them you would be great friends! (case in point: muke). so don't be afraid to make new friends, but also to appreciate the ones you have.

you love learning, but you also get overwhelmed sometimes and feel a little trapped when people say you have to do things a certain way. you have a lot of admiration for people who feel free to be themselves and you want to be them, sometimes you're scared though. as you grow older you'll have more and more chances to do things your own way and to live life how it makes you happy. it's not a contradiction that you can sometimes be really good at something but also need lots of time to rest and decompress after, it's quite common actually. it's natural: some people's brains are born to 'sprint' (do really well at something but only for short amounts of time) while some are 'marathon runners' (can keep going for long times but don't have as good or out there ideas nearly as often). you know yourself though, you're quite self aware even though you don't always tell people what's going on in your head. you're independent when it comes to being cared for by adults, but you love close friendships and community when it comes to your peers.

look after yourself and your self-esteem--though you love alone time too, you feel great when you're around your best friends but you start to beat yourself up easily when things are going wrong socially. learn that it's not your fault. whether or not you have it, you might enjoy looking at posts on adhd positivity or the few and far between positivity posts for the pda profile of autism. as to whether any of these things are you--you'll figure it out. you always do. you like a little puzzle. and you do want to accept yourself, to learn how to be kind to yourself, learn to rest even when people tell you to keep going but you need a break to feel like yourself again. and you can get there!

[pannman]

Surprises

Stolas x Blitzø

Tw: fluff, smut, stolas has a cloaca/bird pussy, anal, pegging, overstimulation, oral, service top Stolas, switch Blitzø, strap on, slight edging

I've had helluva boss on the brain today and this idea came to me in a manic adhd hyperfocus frenzy so you're welcome

The relationship was still very new. At least this new healthier romantic version. It took them a long time to be sexually intimate again. They both really wanted to but both were afraid to cross the others boundaries. Once they admitted that to each other they pounced onto one another like panthers. They resumed their kinky ways. Blitzø topping and Stolas loving being the bottom. And they both enjoyed it immensely.

It was ten times better now that they were in a real relationship. It felt more intense emotionally and more intimate than ever. They felt a closeness they never had before. But they also felt the freedom to just have fun. Even if sex didn't happen. With all these new feelings and new experiences... surprises were bound to happen.

Stolas and Blitzø sat on their shared bed cuddling in each other's embrace. "You know, I really appreciate your help with my business. Usually I dump all the taxes and stuff on Moxxie but he's got enough to do as is." Blitzø said as he snuggled up to Stolas. "Oh, it's no problem. Honestly I love it. I enjoy the intellectual stimulation and I feel a real big sense of accomplishment I just never got with my princely duties." Stolas replied reassuringly. "Well I know seeing me everyday is a big plus" he joked. "Yes that is true" Stolas giggled. "Ha! I knew you were a simp!" Blitzø teased. "Oh stop it" stolas gave him a teasing shove and it was then that a playful wrestling match on the bed ensued.

They tumbled and tugged on each other playfully getting riled up and before Stolas realized what he was doing he accidentally had Blitzø pinned underneath him. He was gonna apologize since he didn't really know his own strength sometimes but something stopped him. Blitzø was blushing intensely. He seemed to be trying to speak but he was completely flustered. 'He likes this!!' Stolas thought.

He hovered there for minute unsure of what to do before getting off him. It was bit awkward for a minute. "Ahem... um... I'm just gonna go check on Loonie and Via..." Blitzø stuttered out. Blitzø hurried out of the room leaving Stolas with his thoughts. He never took Blitzø for a switch but then again he had never really discussed it with him. He had never considered the way Blitzø found pleasure. He had always assumed that if he wanted to switch things up he would've said something. Stolas was starting to feel selfish. So many times Blitzø had made him feel so good and done all the things he wanted to do

Suddenly Stolas smiled mischievously as got an idea. That night Blitzø returned from work and entered the bedroom to find Stolas waiting for him... in the nude.

"Oh... now this I like" Blitzø being pretty much as horny as Stolas was immediately on board. But he had something different in mind than he had. "I was thinking... we could try something... new tonight" he spoke seductively. Blitzø matched his tone "oh yeah? What did you have in mind?" Stolas pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "I was thinking we could use these" Blitzø blinked confused. "Uhhh Stolas... we've already used those. A lot" Stolas giggled knowing how fun this was going to be. "Well yes... we've used them on ME" he said suggestively. Blitzø began to blush like he did earlier that day. "Wha-What... what do you mean?" He stuttered.

"I was thinking tonight you can relax and let someone else take charge" Stolas responded. Blitzø's blush grew more prominent as he tried to hide his feelings. "If-if this- if this is about earlier today I was just surprised is all" he once again failed to keep his smooth persona. "I was quite surprised too. At first I was worried I had hurt you accidentally but when I noticed your reaction I realized that I wanted to be the one to top YOU this time"

Stolas got up from the bed closing the gap between them slowly but steadily. Blitzø backed up until his back hit the door. Stolas continued to close the gap, towering over him with a lustful look in his eyes. "Look Stolas, you don't have to do this. I'm perfectly comfortable just topping." Stolas stopped. "Blitzø, I WANT for you to enjoy yourself as much as I do, I WANT to please you, making you feel good makes me feel good and honestly I do want to try to this since it is such unchartered territory for me. It's exciting. But if you are uncomfortable with it I completely understand." He expressed carefully trying to make his intentions clear without pressuring him.

Blitzø had never really let someone else take charge and he was both terrified yet allured at the idea. Now that he thought about it... it excited him too. He finally saw where Stolas was coming from and he agreed. "I'm not uncomfortable. This is just very new for me too. But I want to give it try. I've always suppressed this side of me. It's time to see what surprises it has for me" he said. Stolas nodded understandingly before smiling seductively. "Then let's get started shall we?" Blitzø nodded silently, his blush beginning to reappear.

Stolas picked up Blitzø like he was nothing and tossed him onto the bed. He climbed on and towered over him. Sometimes Blitzø forgot just how much taller he was. Stolas ordered blitzø to lie on his stomach. He did as he was told before he felt Stolas take his arms and cuff him to the bed. He pulled his pants off and then his boxers before positioning him on his knees with his ass in the air

He leaned in and whispered in his ear, breath ghosting his neck "I have a surprise for you..." Blitzø began to feel his face flush as he felt one of Stolas's long nimble fingers slowly insert into his butthole. Stolas had already prelubed it and was going in at a slow pace. Blitzø couldn't speak as he felt Stolas's finger just barely hit his prostate.

Blitzø had never been one to moan during sex so he was extremely surprised at the lustful noise that escaped his mouth. Hearing it made him blush more. "Keep making those delicious sounds darling" Stolas leaned in to whisper, his finger still inside him. He began pumping in and out. Blitzø couldn't help but continue to moan and whimper as his dick got harder and harder.

It was when stolas inserted a second finger that he began to get overstimulated. He clenched his fists and groaned involuntarily getting extremely close to reaching a climax. Suddenly Stolas pulled out. Blitzø whined. "Aw, come on I was so close!!!" He complained. "You need to be a bit more patient my dear... all good things are coming." Blitzø wondered what he meant before he blushed heavily at the sound of straps tightening. He had in inkling what the source of that sound was.

He was proven right when he felt a lubed up dildo slowly penetrate his anus. Going in carefully as he adjusted. It stretched him deliciously and his moaning and whimpering became louder than before. He was now sweating as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He felt his dick become extremely hard. His climax was slowly building back up as Stolas pegged him as deep as he could go. He began thrusting.

Stolas started out slow before picking up speed. Blitzø made a symphony of whorish noises. "That's a good boy. Your taking it so well" Stolas praised him. Hearing this really did something to Blitzø because he immediately hit his peak and felt his orgasm vibrate through his entire being.

Stolas continued thrusting through his orgasm before gradually slowing to a stop. He pulled out. Blitzø finally able to form coherent sentences began to speak. "That was incredible" he uttered breathlessly. "Oh we are far from done" Stolas responded. He uncuffed Blitzø and flipped him over kissing him passionately. Their tongues intertwined for a bit before Stolas broke the kiss and began kissing down Blitzø's body slowly and meticulously before reaching his destination. He kissed the tip teasingly. "Still so hard for me. I know you can take more" he carefully wrapped his beak around the end of Blitzø dick swirling his tongue as he took him deeper and deeper.

Blitzø began instinctively bucking into him but Stolas pinned his hips to the bed. 'God this is hot' Blitzø thought as his cock twitched in Stolas's mouth. Stolas began bobbing his head taking Blitzø in all the way every time with the head of his cock hitting the back of his throat. Blitzø groaned as he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling

Stolas stopped and pulled back completely removing his mouth from Blitzø's now soaking wet dick. "Look at me" he commanded and Blitzø (who was desperate for this continue did as he was told). He watched as Stolas once again took him all in. Tongue swirling and head bobbing and eyes gazing lustfully back into his. Blitzø felt himself orgasm once again. A big load of cum shooting directly into Stolas's mouth which he swallowed

Blitzø felt his muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly as he was once again surprised. Stolas now hovered over him. "We're not done yet. Almost. I know you can do it." His voice was like butter. He felt Stolas lower himself onto his still very wet dick. Stolas's cloaca was extremely wet. "Stolas.." Blitzø moaned. "Yes, dear?" Stolas's breathy whisper turned him on so hard. "I love you" he said.

Stolas met his lips with a kiss. "I love you too" he began to rise and fall. Blitzø clenched the sheets from his overstimulation and whimpered. He felt Stolas take his hands and then their fingers intertwined. His arms were carefully pinned above his head and they kissed again this time making out passionately as Stolas bounced himself on his cock and Blitzø began to thrust up instinctively. Blitzø felt an orgasm building for a third time and tightened his grip on Stolas's hands and like telepathy Stolas sped up. His pussy clenched on him hard and Blitzø felt the strongest wave of pleasure radiate through his body crashing over him as peaked for the third and final time.

Stolas continued to ride his dick for a little longer his cloaca clenching onto it hard before cumming all over it. He got off and fell to Blitzø side chest rising and falling from ecstasy. Their heavy breaths were all that filled the room for a while before Stolas pulled him into his fluffy chest

Blitzø finally able to catch his breath spoke first. ".... I could get used to this every once in a while" he admitted. Stolas pulled him in tighter. "I quite enjoyed it myself" he agreed. Blitzø had to ask "where did you learn to top so good?" He had never known Stolas was capable of that. "I learned from the best" he answered playfully. "Well aren't you just full of surprises" Blitzø said teasingly. "So are you Blitzø.... so are you"

[astranite]

CH2 of Where was he? Pancakes.

Behold, a second chapter!! Thanks for everyones lovely comments and encouragement! I did not quite mean to stay up until midnight finishing this, but ADHD and I'm excited about this!! Enjoy!!!

@idontknowreallywhy yes im going to sleep now.

@edutainer2022 The rest of this, as you've already seen the first little bit!

Tumblr part 1 :)

---

Instead of pulling away from his brothers and getting to work like drill sergeant at the back of his mind nagged that he should be doing, Scott sunk into the group hug. Just a while longer. He needed this.

"What do I do now? I don’t know what to do now," he asked, or rather mumbled into John's t-shirt where he'd smushed his face. 

There. He'd admitted it even to himself. And his brothers. 

His voice was small where he'd meant it to come out as a demand or at least a question, not a pitiful cry for help.

Gordon gripped him tighter and so did Alan, and Scott was already leaning into Virgil's enveloping embrace at his side and John's fingers were still in his hair. 

He didn't actually know what to do with the mess he'd made of the kitchen or the unfinished pancake batter. The useless bowl of ingredients couldn't even be put back in their respective packets because he'd mixed them together because he hadn't thought further ahead than throwing them in. They were wasted. 

The idea of sifting apart flour and sugar and the baking powder that was possibly in there until it was like nothing had ever happened buzzed in his brain. Every solution he could come up with to undo it all was summarily discarded as they were impractical, impossible or simply ridiculous. Life didn't work like that. You didn’t get a do over on your mistakes, and even if anyone could it certainly wouldn’t be him getting the chance. 

But he didn't want to give up. What Scott wanted was to eat pancakes with his brothers, to get to laugh together without the pressing weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Alright, at this point he would definitely prefer to jump out of One without a jetpack than face the kitchen, or y'know go cry in the shower. He had such great coping mechanisms. 

Just it was easier to think in the middle of a crisis. The present moment swallowed up all the mistakes of the past as the only thing that mattered in the universe was the next several seconds in the now. Doubt didn't have time to eat him alive; there wasn't time for vegetables to go mouldy in the bottom of the fridge. 

Maybe he'd dissolve into a puddle of suspicious goop too. Ugh, then someone would have to scrub the floor, which he'd be responsible for doing given it would be his fault if he liquified into hypothetical ooze. 

Gordon interrupted his thoughts, sing-songing out his name, "Scott, Scotty, Scooter, what can we do to help?" 

If he knew how they could help, that'd solve a lot of problems. 

Scott shrugged. Caring too much left him in the same place on the outside as caring too little. 

His brain steamrollered over Gordon's clarification of whether Scott wanted suggestions for what they could do.

The batter needed to be finished except that needed the eggs and other whatever it was that they didn't have, the fridge stuff needed to be dealt with by putting it in a place that wasn't the fridge, but those containers would have to be cleaned—

When A plus B equals C, you've still got to work out what bloody A is to find C.

"None of you deserve to have to clean up my messes," Scott burst out, "I should be able to do this on my own if I can just get my act together."

I don't need help. I've totally got this, I'm fine. I'm so completely fine, not that any of you would believe me if I said that. Not that he was doing a particularly good job of lying to himself right now either.

He was barely managing not to yell. 

His mind ran at lightning speed even as he knew he was missing out on the looks the others were throwing each other over his head.

He kept going, "I'd been meaning to do this for you guys, you know, as a nice breakfast we could enjoy on our day off..." Scott's voice jammed in his throat.

His brothers were here supporting him, but he still couldn't fix any of these problems because he was the cause of them.

"Scott." Virgil was as always his rock, there for him when Scott couldn't figure out which was was up. "You. Are. Allowed. To. Ask. For. And. Accept. Our. Help."

With how awful he was at remembering that no matter how many times everyone told him, he should let them permanent marker it onto his forehead and be done with it.

"We all need help with stuff. It doesn't make you incapable," Gordon said.

Scott never begrudged fetching Gordon heat packs when his back was bad so he didn't have to get up or rubbing at the sore muscles after missions or assisting with the physio exercises Gordon still had to do.

Alan butted in, “I mean I don’t like chores, ‘cause who does, but Scott, that’s totally unfair if you have to do everything!”

"Sprout, it's alright, I don't do everything," Scott reassured automatically.

Alan gave him a look of utter teenage incredulity. "Yeah, but you try to."

John’s arms tightened around him as he rested his chin on Scott’s head and said simply, "We help each other, on missions and at home. That’s who we are.”

Scott could hear the smile in John’s voice as added, “So, how about breakfast?”

He took a deep breath, filling up his lungs before letting it out, allowing his brothers’ presences steady him. “Breakfast.”

"They're Scott-special pancakes but that doesn't mean we can't all help," Gordon ruled firmly.

"We'd all rather that than you having to do it all on your own." John hesitated then added, "Scott, you remember when we used to cook with Mum and Dad? Sunday mornings, all of us crammed in the kitchen in our pyjamas, covered in flour, everyone helping out?"

Of course he remembered. It had hurt too much to think about for years and the ache of loss was still there, but now he had a chance to make new memories with his brothers right beside him. His small smile matched John's.

"It makes them more special, not less," Virgil said, "Because we get to spend the time together."

"Yeah Scotty, we want to hang out with you," Alan finished, and that was that.

The group hug transformed into a mission planning huddle, though John and Gordon remained propping Scott up on either side. 

Gordon was bouncing on his toes in anticipation, the fins on his clownfish towel flapping. "Okay. Where were we? Oh yeah, suggestions for us helping if you want us to give suggestions, because I don't want to stomp on what you're doing and take away your control over it 'cause that's really not actually helpful. But I do know how hard the 'thinking up what people should be doing' is when your brain is—" Gordon waved a hand about to complete the sentence. "So, yup."

Scott pressed his shoulder to Gordon's in silent appreciation of his thoughtfulness in the face of Scott's overwhelm. That's what he was, overwhelmed. 

"Having some ideas would help. Please."

"We'll clean up the kitchen together. We've all had a part in leaving stuff in the fridge too long," Virgil said calmly, like there wasn't any shame in it. Scott filed that away in the back of his mind for later consideration.

"Alan can take One to Aotearoa and get the eggs and blueberries. He needs the practice flight hours anyway," John put forward.

Alan’s face lit up as he immediately shook off Virgil's arm around his shoulders to jump to the ready. “Can I? Scott. Scott, please? I promise I won’t scratch her, I’ll be as careful as I am with Three, in fact I’ll be carefuller! Wait is that even a word? So can I?”

"Nope. Not quite a word," John chipped in affectionately when Alan had to take a breath.

"Alright, alright." Scott held his hands up. "But you'd better bring her back in one piece or you won't be getting any pancakes," he joked. Mostly. As long as One didn't end up wedged in the swimming pool...

One last moment was spent in the huddle with his brother as Alan darted back for a goodbye hug, no matter how short the flight would be. 

Putting their hands out in the centre in a stack, grinning at each other, they yelled in unison, “Tracies are go!!!”

Alan ran towards Scott's launch chute entrance, tossing over his shoulder, "Don't let Gordon eat them all before I get back!"

Gordon's indignant, "Hey!" was lost as the painting swung around, taking Alan with it.

"He does know that we need the eggs to make the pancakes which he is getting, right?" John asked as an aside.

"Eh, he'll work it out." Scott was looking after where Alan had gone wondering when their undeniably littlest brother had grown up so much. That applied regardless of continued brotherly taunting ‘cause wasn’t like he, John or Virgil had ever grown out of it.

Finally, the rest of them returned to the kitchen. Scott steeled himself as he stepped over the imaginary threshold separating it in the open plan design from the lounge.

The containers of spoilt food were sitting out on the bench where he'd left them, condensation dripping from the outsides in the subtropical heat. Unfinished pancake batter loomed from its bowl. Where would he even start? The multiple frying pans he'd need to cook such a big batch with were languishing in the bottom of the sink too.

Gordon set his hands on his hips, in a stand off against the mess. "Okey dokey. Scott, would you rather do dishes, begin emptying out the containers or make coffee so the Virge doesn't keel over? We'll split up the rest between us."

Scott found himself wandering over to the coffee station before he answered. It was the easiest, most straight forward task right now.

He bit his lips guiltily. "Can I?"

Virgil was already standing beside the sink, putting on an apron. He waved a pink rubber washing up glove at Scott in a 'go ahead' gesture, idly chewing on the corner of his flannel shirt collar.

That was about as much as he'd normally get out of Virgil before coffee, excluding missions and brotherly crises as this morning.

Scott inspected the array of coffee types set out in the cupboard next to the overly complicated, super fancy coffee machine Virgil insisted they have. It had more knobs and dials than Thunderbird Two's console he swore and that was already far too many, but Scott couldn't deny it made the best coffee.

None of that mattered though because above the machine was a laminated sheet of paper covered in Virgil's blocky handwriting outlining exactly the steps he had to follow in the order he had to do them, the same as a pre-flight checklist. Scott relaxed. Like a math problem, if he took it bit by bit he'd eventually end up at the right answer.

He'd make a cup for himself too. Not that it would wake him up, thanks ADHD, but he enjoyed the taste and it might do something for his focus.

Virgil's favourite coffee brand came in an electric green package with its name written in an indecipherable font most expected on a death metal album cover. Though at the strength Virgil drank it, it was pretty fitting. Scott had tried a sip once. Only once, as drinking undiluted tar was not his cup of, well, coffee. But Virgil loved the stuff.

Scott made the coffee and got out their biggest mug with the silly, absolutely tiny in proportion Thunderbird Two perched on the handle for his brother.

After passing Virgil his coffee, his brother turned it this way and that then grinned up at Scott. "Did you draw Two in the middle of the froth for me?"

Scott fetched his own coffee, before standing next to Virgil to squint into his mug. A lighter blob of foam floated in the centre. Those bits on the side could be the stubby wings. Though maybe Virgil was kidding, but he might not be so if he saw the Flying Turtle, the Great Green Bathtub, Thunderblob Two, who was Scott to protest artistic genius?

"Happy accident?" Scott told him as Virgil rolled his eyes and nudged his side.

Gordon stood on tip toe to look too. "It's not green. I mean, I could make it green!"

Virgil hunched protectively over his coffee. Do not get between Gordon and food dye was wisdom learned early.

"I think it looks more like Four," John deadpanned to significant outrage.

Scott cackled as Gordon attempted to mess up John's hair in revenge, both of them laughing at each other.

The coffee was warm going down as he took the moment to lean on Virgil as they both quietly sipped theirs, watching the others' antics.

His own mug had a comic of a Boeing aircraft crashing then bouncing down a runway, captioned 'boing.' Scott had giggled when he saw it in amongst the other mugs in the cupboard as he always did since Gordon and Alan had gifted it to him on his birthday, and decided he needed that today.

He held up for Virgil to inspect, along with John and Gordon glued together in their tackle hug. 

Laughing, he read the text out loud, complete with sound effects.  

Several hilarious minutes followed of them all repeating the sounds between them, bouncing around, echoing and playing off each other. Scott grinned so hard his cheeks ached. He needed this. 

Maybe it was the placebo effect or the time spent freely messing around with his brothers, but with the coffee in him Scott was starting to feel a little better about the world and possibly himself too. 

Better enough that he could face approaching the counter of suspicious containers to help Gordon.

Gordon was currently inspecting them with equal parts fascination and repulsion. He poked at the box Scott had found wedged at the very back of the fridge. 

"Do you reckon that's last month's meatloaf? Or maybe it was the stew. I think it's got its own ecosystem!"

Nope, nope, nope. It looked like it was about to crawl away. "Do not open that, Gords!"

Virgil and John gathered behind him, peering over his shoulders. Scott could tell without seeing exactly which utterly icked out face John made.

Come on, Scotty, he told himself, you've dealt with grosser things on rescues. And in raising very little brothers; he certainly did not miss some stuff. 

"We can sacrifice one container, right?" he said. Right? You had to know when to call it in the hopeless cases.

Unanimous noises of agreement were rapidly made. The container was summarily carried over to the bin with caution equivalent of handling radioactive waste. Scott wouldn't be surprised if it set off a geiger counter.

The punnet of blueberries he'd meant for the pancakes joined it. They were well beyond salvage. 

Scott tugged a hand through his hair, trying his best not to let the guilty regret swallow him up. The frustration surged, as even though they'd finally cleaned out the fridge and dealt with the stuff, he hadn't been able to prevent the waste happening in the first place.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he and Gordon wiped out the shelves so they could put back all the non-archaeological bottles of lurking sauces that he'd also taken out to get at the other stuff. The patch of mystery sticky substance probably didn't require as much scrubbing force as he was putting into it.

...it wasn't a mystery. It was the strawberry smoothie leftover from a morning Gordon had made too much that Scott had spilt while getting it out midnight to fuel his deadline induced frenzy of report writing. That had been only after he'd realised the reason he felt so shaky and sick was that he'd forgotten to eat all day despite several heavy, exhausting rescues.

After wiping up the last of it, he tossed the cloth into soapy sink with a splash. Immediately he was apologising for startling Virgil as the cloth flew past him as he did the dishes. 

There went Scott and another stupidly impulsive action. No one even had to tell him off for the gaping hole to open up in his chest. He stood in middle of the room, feet rooted to the floor, frozen as he resisted the urge to storm off to One's hanger or some other darker, damper crevice to curl up and probably sob about such a dumb mistake, so he wasn't abandoning his brothers.

Gordon's much smaller hand slipped into his own. 

"Do you wanna take a break, Scotty?"

Silently, honestly, Scott nodded. 

He followed Gordon's lead as he tugged Scott over to the patch of clear floor in the lounge by the full length windows.

Then, because this was Gordon, he just lay down on the ground with an exclamation of, "Floor time!"

Scott got down next to him and flopped onto his back staring upwards. At least attempting to work out where Gordon's offbeat schemes were going was a distraction from his thoughts tearing him apart. 

Virgil and John were still working away in the kitchen. The guilt gnawed. Scott screwed his eyes shut then rubbed the heels of his hands over them, hard enough to see spots before he opened them again as he really shouldn’t do that. He wound his fingers through the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

Blue sky stretched above them, framed by the edge of the roof. Beyond the glass, sun shone through the cloudless expanse. Scott let himself relax into the floorboards.

"See, it's all good if you need some time out. We're proud of you, big bro." Gordon edged closer to press their shoulders and sides together.

"Thanks," Scott whispered.

He fixed his gaze back on the sky outside, on the wide, open, beautiful sky.

 "How did you know this would help?"

The fish nudged him. "Sometimes a change in perspective is what you need, getting in the ant's eye view if you will. You're too tall, the air gets thin up there."

"Like you'd get the heights, fish sticks," Scott joked.

Gordon's impression of mock offence, complete with hand clutching at his chest and shocked gasp, was ruined by his giggles.

For a moment he grew serious again, amber eyes taking Scott in. "And like literally it’s also a break so the rest of you can catch up with your brain. I get when there's so much going on up there anything extra tips you overboard."

Slowly, the world felt less like it was about to end as he briefly met Gordon eyes then turned to the blue above.

Scott bumped their heads together. "Thanks, again for everything."

"No problem, I'm always happy to help my bros."

It was impossible to miss the emphasis that this very much included Scott, despite him being the eldest.

Lying on the floor with Gordon in a pool of sunlight streaming in cut through the frantic spiralling he had been nose diving into again. 

Scott calculated the windspeed outside from the movement of the small branches at the tops of the pōhutukawa trees he could see upside-down at the corner of his vision. Little bits of leaves and debris, a constant pain to clean up on their heavily vegetated island danced across the concrete patio outside. 

"You reckon it's blowing about twenty, twenty-two kays per hour out there, Gords?" he said.

Gordon levered himself up and leant towards him to get a better look over to the ocean. "Yeah, thereabouts. Twelve knots."

They heard Virgil's hum from the kitchen before he chipped in, "Closer to twenty-four or so kays, I'd say."

"Bets all in?" The mirth in John's voice was obvious as he pulled up a holo, though Scott didn't doubt he had his own number in mind. "Our weather system puts Tracy Island local windspeed at twenty-two—"

Scott pumped a fist in the air.

"—Point nine kilometres per hour." 

Gordon cheered. "AKA twelve point four knots, boom!"

Scott rolled his eyes and high-fived Gordon in celebration.

With several more breaths of watching the sky, he sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Ready to go, Scooter?"

Scott stood before giving Gordon a hand up from the ground. "Yeah, I am." 

Coming back to the kitchen, the first thing Scott did was fall into Virgil's offered hug before he, Virgil Gordon and John gathered in a circle to work out what was next. When John got too wobbly on his feet to keep standing, he hopped up on the counter, sorting through the papers that had been stuck under the fridge magnets as Scott handed them to him. Categorised piles formed from the sticky note and post card debris heap before his eyes.

Alan's holo popped up on the com. "Hey everyone!"

Scott jumped at the sudden noise before grinning at his little brother. 

"I swear I was listening but what am I supposed to be getting, again?" Alan said, twisting one of his hoodie strings up before tucking the end into his mouth to chew on.

"It's alright Alan. Get a dozen eggs, actually make that two dozen if we want to have any for breakfast another day. The blueberries, a couple of packets. Bananas, while you're at it. Maybe more maple syrup, I don't know if we're out," Scott listed as he wandered over to the pantry to check. "More cornflakes!" he yelled back.

Scott returned to the kitchen proper to stick his head in the fridge to find out about their milk situation. He turned back to his brothers after determining they were probably two days from running out.

Alan on the holo glanced up from inspecting the bottle of caramel sauce that had materialised in his hand. "Uhh guys, I kinda missed everything after how many eggs?"

Scott winced. He should've noticed Alan was distracted by the overstimulating hell of a supermarket, and that as ADHDer number three he probably wasn't going to remember all the points on Scott's rambling list, hell, Scott didn't ever remember half of them and he was the one who'd just said them. He hadn't thought—

"Scott, I've got it." John waved his phone in the air before resuming tap-tapping out Scott's dictation. "Allie, I'll send you the list once I'm done.

"Awesome, 'kay thanks! Hey, can I get ice cream, it's half off?"

"Get the one with the marshmallows and the little fish!" Gordon exclaimed as he shoved his way into view. 

Alan hung up before Scott managed to get a word in edgeways. The fish of Gordon's favourite flavour were made of chocolate, not actual fish as Scott had feared the first time he'd tried it.

Alan would have the written list to refer back to, it was all alright. Scott didn't need to worry. Even if Alan had spent a while wandering the shops as One must've gotten there fast, his littlest brother had been more sensible than Scott had been in the past in calling them up for clarification. Or in the present.

It hadn't been the first time and it definitely wasn't the last, but Scott remembered getting sent out to the local shops to get bread as a teen and how he'd made sure to get everything from John's bagels, to the type of cereal Virgil liked and all the other stuff to go on sandwiches for school lunches, except he'd forgotten the bread and Dad had just sighed disappointedly, going back to his way more important work. Scott had barely managed to put everything away before bursting into tears, hiding in the kitchen by ducking below the cupboard level so no one would see at a glance. Damn, he hoped he was doing better than that with Alan.

"Thanks for the save, John," he murmured, approached to lean against the counter next to John.

Typing one-handedly, John reached out to squeeze Scott's hand with his other.

Instead of throwing himself back into the fray with frustrating emotions ready to boil over like he usually would, or joining in with whatever the fish and the tank were getting up to that involved overly loud whispering near the pantry, Scott boosted himself up to sit on the bench with John, carefully avoiding all the papers. With a quiet question so as not to surprise his brother as he was focusing, Scott ended up leaning his head on John's shoulder for a bit to rest. John leant into him too. 

A change of perspective did help. Scott was doing okay. Not perfect, but well enough, no matter how hard that was to admit that when he spent too many nights up worrying about all the things he should've somehow done better. As well, some part deep inside him nudged that maybe, possibly he also deserved the kindness he gave everyone else but never himself. 

Gordon spotted him taking the moment out and they shared a smile. Gordon being Gordon also gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. See? Scott told himself, Progress.

Shortly, Alan's holo popped up again, back in Thunderbird One.

"Groceries are stowed, enroute to Tracy Island now!" Alan chirped.

"FAB," sounded off from all of them.

Everyone was now listening out for the sound of One. Several stomachs growled.

Soon, soon they'd finally have pancakes.

The minutes passed in suspense. Scott put the organised papers back on the fridge, filed them over at the desk or chucked them in the recycling as John directed.

They discovered the fishtank plan in the form of the opened bag of chocolate bits being squabbled over.

"Can we make some choc chip ones too?" Virgil was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Gordon unrepentantly stole a chocolate chip. "What he said," Gordon campaigned, despite Scott knowing that Gordon actually preferred the blueberry and banana pancakes as his top pick.

Finally rockets arrived with a roar, as the pool slid open and One disappeared into it.

Then the elevator dinged and Alan triumphantly stumbled out carrying far too many bags for one person. 

"Good work!" Scott cheered, as he and Virgil rushed to help.

"Thanks, Scotty!" Alan lit up. "Also I'm starving."

"Well we'll soon fix that problem!"

Scott took the eggs and cracked them one by one into the bowl of dry ingredients for his pancake batter. Just to show off, he did it one-handedly. The blueberries were washed and he added them in, popping a couple in his mouth too for good measure. Someone needed to taste test, it was tradition, all the way back to the ranch and small hands trying to sneak around Mum before she bopped them playfully with the sticky wooden spoon. The berries were the perfect ripeness, sweet with that tiny edge of tartness cutting through right.

"The baking powder," Scott began, "I don't—I've got no idea if its in there or not."

The pancakes wouldn't rise it he had forgotten,  they'd fall flat as unfortunate, failed pancakes. But in reverse, if he had put it in and added more—he'd made that mistake before. The resulting puffy ooze resembled a science experiment more than an edible food.

"I found the box of baking powder open on the bench, if that helps," Virgil gave him.

"Yeah, it was right next to the bowl. Looks like it had just been sat down." Gordon confirmed.

Alan's eyebrows were crumpled into an incredibly serious expression as he contemplated. "I think you probably did put it in, Scotty."

There was no guarantee. But he could take the leap, having faith in his brothers and the best guesses they all had.

"Okay, alright. The batter is done then!" he said, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster.

Virgil shooed Alan out to set the table , following with plates so there wouldn't so many cooks in the kitchen with the potential to bump the hot stove.

Gordon set the several pans to heat, guarding over them as he added butter, melting and bubbling.

Scott lingered, beating the last lumps out of the mix with the whisk. He bumped John's dangling legs out of the way of the drawers so he could dig out a ladle. 

"Worse case scenario, we will make another batch. We have enough ingredients," John said quietly, just to him as the others danced about preparing things to eat the pancakes with, Gordon pretending he wasn't listening to them also.

Scott could always trust John to think through all the possibilities on missions, even, especially the hard ones. It was more reassuring to know that they had a plan if stuff all went to hell, than pretend it simply wouldn't. Biting experience had taught him better than that. 

This though was just making pancakes for his brothers, not saving the world from high stakes catastrophe. His brothers, who no matter how badly he messed up would always love him. 

Scott ladled batter out into the pans, flipping the pancakes over once they grew bubbly and cooked at the edges.

Even when the first one fell apart and turned out rather burnt on one side as he attempted to salvage it after flipping too soon, they all tore it to pieces and ate it anyway as a snack before the proper ones.

The next turned out golden brown, speckled with the blueberries.

Scott grinned happily, joy bubbling up inside his chest.

He made sure to make some blueberry and choc chip ones, and blueberry and banana ones, separating out the mixture. Then some all of the above ones too for good measure.

Virgil and Alan were singing along to a boppy pop song Scott would probably find stuck in his head later. Gordon twirled around the kitchen, dancing along with his wonderfully ridiculous clownfish towel swirling. John kept him company, nodding his head with the beat before he joined in the singing, swinging his legs slightly out of time, carefree. Scott flipped the pancakes, tossing them recklessly high in the air, waving the spatula and moving his whole body with the music, wiggling his hips and bouncing on his toes in excitement. 

Scott ate pancakes with his brothers, closer to noon than to breakfast time but everyone swore this lot were the best they'd had. They laughed together and the weight of the world pressing on Scott's shoulders didn't feel so heavy.

[professor-rye]

10, 20, 30, 40 for the weird writer asks!

Thank you for sending me some questions! Apologies in advance for how much I ended up rambling 😅

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Oh gosh. Definitely Dapple. I was worried that I wouldn’t finish the very beginning idea I had (which ended up just being act 1), so I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when not only did I finish that, but then it kept going… and going… *and going.* I’ve always been good at coming up with ideas for long fics, but never before (or since) have I ever been able to actually *stick* with writing them, let alone so consistently. For some reason, for Dapple, my ADHD brain said “This is your life now and you are addicted”. It literally was what kept me on this earth for a while there. It unironically saved my life. And then it just… disappeared. 

My brain no longer wanted to think about it, and it was only habit keeping me going for a while there. I pushed past that point way too far and got burnt out, and I’m still waiting, desperately hoping, that the floodgates will open again. And not just because I want to finish it, mind you. Like I said, writing and posting dapple did so much good for me. It was a safe harbor in a storm. It helped me process some of the worst traumas in my life. It got me *so many friends*. I can not express enough how much I miss it. …. Gods, okay, that got way deeper than I intended. Apologies! Gods… well uh, on to the next question!

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

Well, after the last question, I think the answer is probably obvious lol. No question at all, I would pick to perfectly finish Dapple (Gods, and if that also let me get the sequel idea I had as well?? And also all the side fics??? Shit I would sell my soul for that). (It also doesn’t help that I am ace and have trouble contemplating the idea of magically gifted eternal happiness, so like… it was just very stacked in Dapple’s favor already)

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

So, its kind of complicated? I am very much so that writer who just daydreams about fic ideas as I lay down to sleep every night, so there is a very hazy period during the in between where sometimes I’ll get ideas that I can actually remember the next morning.

But I don’t think they’re actual dreams, because my normal dreams tend to be a) incredibly stressful and b) about the most boring stuff imaginable, which is quite the combo. 

But I will say that the pre-sleep daydreaming feels so different from any other actual plotting that I do. It’s very… gods, how do you describe this… 

There’s a thing I learned in art school where you step away from your composition and squint till you can only see the hazy outlines of the different elements of the work. Or like when they tell you to turn the painting upside down for a bit to see what isn’t working. The pre-sleep daydreaming always involves reimagining the scenes I had already thought about during more lucid moments, but looking at the broader strokes and the pure emotion of it (because sleepy). 

So most of the “ideas” I got from those moments were realizations that certain elements didn’t quite work the way I wanted them to, and then once I was actually lucid, I could think back on it and then (sometimes) realize a better way to handle that particular part. 

So… yeah? It’s hard to say if that counts as dreams specifically, but it’s also a really big part of my writing… existence? Process feels weird to say there lol. But yeah, it felt relevant to share. 

Gods, I’m rambling again. Last question! 

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

(not me taking several days to find this poem because my memory is terrible and I kept mixing up the line I was searching)

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb. ~ Mary Oliver

So yeah, if anyone else wants to send questions, here is the original question list post thingy. I will try not to ramble quite so much next time 😅

[selvesdiscovery]

Last night, I was chatting with one of my headmates when we both heard another voice none of us had ever heard before. It was a man’s voice, and he very clearly called out, “Christina?”, like he was looking for someone. The headmate I was talking to called out to him and he just asked back if we had seen Christina. We said no but offered to help him look, when another, more distant voice said (very firmly), “No.” We didn’t hear either voice after that.

We’ve never encountered these voices before, so we’re unsure who (or what) they may be. You know, headmate vs. weird brain stuff. Also, as far as we know, there are no gatekeepers who would be hiding headmates from the rest of us. We have no known amnesia and do not lose time when switching, so we’re fairly confident that no one beyond the known count has ever fronted.

I’m not sure whether this would be relevant or not, so I’ll include it anyway: we so far have been assuming endogenic origin, but there is the possibility of traumagenic.

Basically, is it “normal” to just hear random voices like that, or is it indicative of headmates we aren’t aware of?

Well, anon, this is a little bit out of my range of personal experience, so I'll try to go off of research I've done instead.

I'd say, the normality depends on your situation. if this sort of thing happens to you& a lot and doesn't necessarily mean anything, I'd say it's probably just ADHD brain making random thoughts or psychosis brain making hallucinations or whatever else you may suspect. But based on the specific nature of what was said, and how you're describing the way this occured, I'm not inclined to believe it's either of those. That being said, if you did not produce the voice, and you experienced it just as you experience the voices of the rest of your headmates, it is quite likely that is the voice of a headmate. To say whether or not it's someone you know or not is harder to do, but I'll say it's quite common in the community to discover new alters like this.

And if it is someone new, that doesn't necessarily mean a gatekeeper hid them or you're secretly traumagenic or anything like that. Sure, that's always a possibility you should keep in mind and not discount. But, it could just be a recently formed headmate, possibly looking for someone from their source (or their own world, if they're a soulbond or walk-in) or that they otherwise remember.

I mean, for the most part I don't have anything extravagant or super helpful to offer you in this situation. And it's been a little while since you asked this, so it's quite possible that things have already came to fruition (feel free to update me if they have!)

TL;DR I don't have a ton to offer you, but if it sounds like a headmate and acts like a headmate, it's probably a headmate, and that doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy. Could just be a confused new guy with no secrets whatsoever

[demented-tours]

Making a whine funny so it goes better with dinner.

I texted this to a friend (because I text books sometimes; sorry?), but am putting it here, too, because maybe sharing rants about the sheer improbability of existence is helpful in some other space. Or it might get me flamed into the outer rings of hell.

Meh.

~*~

Tuesday was unavoidable work hell, and on Wednesday I fucked up my back. Badly.

Of course I did. Can't feel feelings properly, so body takes hit, which means that in certain equation: XStress=YPhysicalBreakdown.

It's even predictable. Polite, my pain.

But my lower back/pelvis is now, “Worse than I’ve seen it in years” said my massage therapist.

Not great.

And I just thought to myself, "How disabled a life should I lead?"

Like, if somebody told me tomorrow, “If you quit your job, do yoga 45 minutes a day in carefully controlled environment, take THESE supplements, sleep 10 hours no matter what, and focus entirely on breathing the rest of the time, you’ll have zero pain in your life,” could I do it?

Would I want to?

Hell, I think that might be sort of what I was trying to do before I realized it was a zero sum game.

But I find that I’m at this bizarre place where I’m like, “Okay. I”m (likely)autistic-ADHD-OCD-acronym empowered. Disabled. Anxious. Chronic pain. Autoimmune bingo card winner. I have a full time, highly stressful job, and I think it’s fun to write 6 books at a time. I’ve given up most of my social outings, as I prefer to speak on the phone or in small groups. I don’t like to eat in public. Obligations give me hives. Literally. And also panic attacks.

Except for those obligations that I weirdly manage for myself? But not all of them? Like, how can, "Dee, let’s write 5000 words today!" Not stress me but "Dee let’s do laundry!" make me feel like I am facing the guillotine, and honestly, please behead me faster so it's over already?

And, conversely, how can, "Should we have sex?" feel like somebody’s asking me to scale Mount Everest naked whereas, "Can you do six hours of research on box beetles?" feel so good I feel it in my teeth?

I fucking don’t get myself. The more rocks I turn over, the more confusing it gets. I am a pile of misinformation and contradictions, and it is exhausting trying to sort out these grains of rice from these grains of wheat.

"Just take care of yourself" they say.

Sure, Jan, I say back.

Because I really feel like if I took away all my stressors, the motion of my own lungs would become annoying. Like, congratulations! You have achieved a zen state!

And then, ten minutes into said zen state, I can feel my fucking lungs moving in an obnoxiously even rhythm and want to rip them from my chest.

Because it isn’t what I do. It’s how my body/mind PERCEIVES it and REACTS to it without my fucking consent.

And yeah, I read all the books on retraining your brain. That works great if you want to stop hating spiders because one bit you as a kid and then your mom kissed your booboo, and you got the bandaid you liked.

It does not work well if spiders are attached to garden hoses because you once killed a spider and then got beaten with a hose because you left the back door unlocked before being sent to your room without supper where you rocked yourself for comfort and now you have a VERY complicated relationship with spiders (which you cannot be near) and hoses (which you like in kinky bedroom activity) and food (you can't eat supper without permission) and locks (you collect them) and being alone (which, as Taylor says, leads to ending up in crisis) and rocking (which you do only on airplanes, now, for Other Complicated Ass Reasons)*.

So yeah. Not simple.

I really don't pay my therapist enough.

But then I think all this, and I think, “Do I REALLY not like to eat in public??? I used to love it. I think? Or was I faking it? Or sometimes?

"Or is all this misinformation, too? Actually, is everything? Self, are we pretending to be disabled to get out of doing things we don’t like? Or do we legit need to get out of doing things we don’t like because we are disabled**?"

I have no fucking clue.

And my back hurts.

Sigh.

<3Dee

*(Please note: This is purely an example. I was not beaten with hoses. And I like spiders, and I rock in cars, not planes, thanks.)

**(This is my own self talk, not commentary on anybody else's disability. Because YOUR disability is 1000% legit. I will fight to the death for your self respect and accomodations. It's just my disability that's clearly for show.)

[les-mis-in-space]

⭐ 

I'm just letting you ramble because I'm incredibly indecisive have fun!

Okay instead of one BIG ramble I think I'm gonna do a bunch of little ones

None of the prisoners looked at the guards observing them, keeping their heads low as they worked to repair the ship. Two symphonies played a counterpoint duet— the instruments of nature being the gongs of thunder, the rattling of the rain, the clapping of the waves, with only the whistling of the wind to give melody to the excess of percussion; the music of the inmates being comprised of the falsetto hum of electrosaws, the clanging and clinking of hammers, the twisting wrenches groaning and screeching like kloo horns on fluctuating settings. Immediately to the left of Com Narcom, a Klatooinian gave lyrics to the cacophony in growled Huttese:

Stuka doompa, stuka doompa Hagwa stuka ta hoohah Stuka doompa, stuka doompa Unko uba nee choo,

And in lieu of a final syllable he would spit, quite forcefully, to approximate a rhyme, which would make his green leathery jowls quiver. At the third repetition of this verse, Narcom’s shaggy, sopping head whipped in the inmate’s direction with a snarled “Can you shut up?”

The singing Klatooinian locked eyes with Narcom and growled deep in his throat, like an akk dog ready to snap. A sentry probe zoomed over, its photoreceptor flashing red as a grating electronic bark warned them to leave each other alone and focus on their work.

Narcom’s eyes dropped. “I mean, can you shut up, please.”

If I could have done this with Master of the House I would have, but I could not get the Huttese lyrics to fit the meter. I was already kinda stretching here, meter-wise. I've always wondered how obvious the reference is to those who don't bother consulting a Huttese dictionary for the translation.

I’m sure there have been early mornings where your alarm has gone off and then, after a long session in the sanistream, you’ve sat on your bed wearing only a towel or your undergarments, procrastinating putting your clothes on for no real reason while you check the HoloNet on your datapad or think about how you’re going to get your protagonist out of the nest of gundarks you dropped her into in the last chapter— that or a particularly difficult math problem, whatever people who aren’t writers think about.

Passages you write before you're diagnosed with ADHD lol. Turns out this thing I thought was relatable probably only happens to a certain demographic on a regular basis. Still, I'm sure we've all had at least one experience like this. Com's basically in shock right now; he's a bit slow on the uptake while his brain tries to process the fact that someone is being nice to him.

“This thief says you gave them to him,” the officer sneered. “As a gift.”

Korma blinked. “But I did.”

The prisoner started.

The officer’s eyebrows shot skyward. “What?”

Korma leaned to peer over the officer’s shoulder. “Why is he in binders?" he demanded, throwing up his hand. "You will release him at once!”

"We'll release him at once," said the officer, waving two fingers toward the officers behind him. The policemen deactivated the cuffs. The prisoner rubbed his wrists, staring at the old Cerean with bewilderment.

“Return the knapsack,” Korma ordered. “Those belong to him.”

"These belong to him," said the officer, setting down the knapsack and stepping back.

“I thank you for taking the time to return my property,” said the bishop. “But no crime has been committed here. You can go about your business.”

The lead officer nodded, setting the knapsack on the ground and turning to the other officers. "We can go about our business."

This is not originally how the scene was written. Originally, there was no hand-wavery or repeating of sentences. Some time after I'd finished Part I, I was rereading this chapter and realized I'd missed an opportunity. Always good to add even more of a Star Wars touch. It also foreshadows the (admittedly obvious) reveal a couple paragraphs later.

Halmath picked up the imagecaster, holding the hologram of Kobjin’s head in his hand. He stared at it, as if it were the unearthed skull of someone he had once known. The familiarity was not reflected in the man’s hollow, empty eyes.

“Ah,” Halmath whispered. “Poor Com.”

Yes, this is a Hamlet reference. Thank you for noticing.

“Coming up now.” Adeg reached up and disengaged the hyperdrive. The vortex of lightspeed gave way to view of a round gray ball directly ahead with a thin ring of asteroids surrounding it.

Arkassos looked like a gas giant from space. It wasn’t a gas giant, of course, because it wasn’t gigantic— and its surface was terrestrial, a fact Lieutenant Adeg only knew because he’d been there before.

The young pilot glanced over his shoulder. “You’re going to want to strap in now, Minister,” he advised. “It’s going to get rough.”

Com frowned as the shuttle breached the stormy atmosphere. The rocking of the cockpit prompted him to take the pilot’s advice. He sat behind Adeg, closed his eyes, and tried to muster a meditative state despite the deafening thunder.

Suddenly, something smacked against the shuttle, sending it tipping starboard. Electric sparks arced through the cabin. The copilot swore while Able yelped. Com clutched his armrests as the ship wobbled. “What was that?”

“Shark, probably,” Adeg replied as he righted the craft. “They like to ram incoming ships. Must have slammed into our dorsal wing.”

“A shark… in the sky?” Com furrowed his brow.

“Yes sir,” nodded the pilot. “Arkassoan sharks swim in the air. They’ve got big wings like—”

“Like that,” McKrow pointed.

Com leaned to peer through the transparisteel. There, circling off to the side, was a shoal of creatures with long, slowly-flapping fins, and three dorsal fins each on their backs. They crackled with electricity as if their bodies were supercharged by the storm. Their bodies were ash-grey, except for the black ridge that stuck out over each one’s brow.

Com didn’t like them.

Sometimes, Star Wars locations have a unique feel to them that makes them instantly recognizable. My success in coming up with my own original planets varies in this regard. Trolorn is your run-of-the-mill water world, but the prison gives it an adequately distinctive signature. Dygni is pastoral with small towns— planets like that are a dime a dozen. Ditto with Monderon, although I tried to make Monderon stand out by being described as particularly boring and also containing occasional forests— had to have those woods for the scene where Leela meets Antilles. Montal is another water world— in coming up with a distinctive feel for the capital city, I decided to go with "Minas Tirith in the middle of the ocean." Pasir is not as urban as other Star Wars planets we've seen, but not at all as much of a backwater as most Outer Rim worlds either.

Anyway, all this to say, I seem to come up with my best gimmicks when the location is only briefly relevant. I thought, "Okay, what sets Arkassos apart?" and my brain came up with "giant flying lightning sharks." I laughed with my beta reader about how stupid random that idea was and then it turned out they really liked the sharks, so I *had* to go through with it.

The description of the sharks is intentional. Ash-gray, jutting black ridges over the brow... If you have a good memory, you should realize why Com doesn't care much for them.

As the convict went from house to house, he saw a pair of police officers. Their uniforms were like the guards’ uniforms on Trolorn, except that the guards had worn black caps and ash gray tunics, and the police officers’ caps and tunics were a matching shade of teal blue, with brass rank plaques and cap discs instead of silver.

Also note that the city below is enclosed in a giant cage. On a stormy planet. Surrounded by patrolling entities that will zap you if they catch you outside the walls. Com doesn't miss this parallel:

The shield gate began to open. “It’s ‘cause of the sharks,” the pilot explained as they passed through to land.

Com knew the pilot meant, to keep the sharks out. But between their stern black ridges and fins that crackled like electrobatons, he felt as if rather the sharks were there to keep them inside the cage.

As if to confirm his thought, Adeg added, “You thought it was rough back there, wait until we’re trying to leave.”

Wow. So far I've spent the most time rambling about the lightning shark planet.

Mrs. Bewl continued her testimony. “I’ll never forget that man. Drab clothes, scruffier than a Wookiee, and he smelled absolutely terrible. And he had this hungry look in his eyes, it gave me the creeps.”

Things that make Mrs. Bewl assume a man is dangerous include [checks notes] needing food

A moment later, a dark-skinned young man in a black uniform appeared in the refresher, with a protocol droid right behind him. “I saw what you did,” said Adeg breathlessly. “I’ve never seen anyone do something as brave as you just now, Minister. I sent off the troopers. Let’s get to the ship before they come back.”

“Hold on,” said Kobjin. “You’re an Imperial. Why are you helping us?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” said Adeg firmly. “You need a pilot.”

This is an intentional reference to Poe's rescue in The Force Awakens. Adeg only appears in this chapter and the next, but I can tell you that after escaping from the Arkassos fiasco (say that out loud, it's fun) he joined up with the Rebellion as an A-Wing pilot, married one of his squadmates, and had a child after the war who was kidnapped by the First Order at a young age. He and his partner were some of the first Resistance members.

“We’ve got to deal with them or we’ll never get out of here alive!” Adeg insisted. “Alright, Minister! Start firing!”

Com looked at the gun controls as TIE lasers bounced off the viewport. “Where’s the stun setting on this thing?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Adeg exclaimed. “Just shoot them!”

...

Com swerved as soon as they penetrated the clouds, veering away from their pursuers in the opaque mist. The thunder was deafening now. The cabin lights flickered. Com weaved between thunderclouds as lightning beat the forward deflector shields. Adeg looked over at Com as he navigated through the maze. “Are your eyes closed right now?!”

“Trying to concentrate,” Com grunted.

“Wait, they’re what?” Kobjin shook the back of the pilot’s chair. “Keep your eyes open! We’re flying through an atmospheric maelstrom right now!”

“I know,” Com snapped. “Let me focus.”

“Can’t you pray and look where you’re going at the same time?” demanded Adeg.

I don't have much to say here except these are my favorite bits of comedy in the whole chapter. Never fly with a Force-wielding pacifist if you value your sanity. Also—

“Back?” Adeg sputtered. “Back to Arkassos?”

"Why does everyone want to go back to Arkassos?" XD

I think I'm going to ramble about Book II in a reblog!

[quillyfied]

top 5 pirates

Aha! The vagueness of what pirates you meant automatically means I can wriggle out of how my knowledge of historical pirates has significantly diminished since my POTC-induced pirates phase in high school and skip straight to fictional pirates, which I will do so immediately!

First: Ed "Blackbeard" Teach, Our Flag Means Death

Invented not only having eyes, but making an entrance, wearing definitely historically accurate leather, and falling head over heels for a man covered in his own blood and looking like an unfortunate wet noodle accident. Searingly clever, beautifully complex, an ADHD King we can all get behind. I drool enough about him and his character on the daily but truly, is there ever such a thing as too much appreciation for a man who's good at the ugly bits of piracy but longs for softer things? And is played by a multi-talented actor who goaded an incredibly skilled stunt double into pulling off the most impressive whip maneuver to make it look like he'd gotten his balls whipped? (And, of course, honorable big mentions to the rest of the cast, you're all doing great jobs sweeties.)

Second: Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean franchise

If you were a kid in the aughts, this guy was life-changing. Quippy, expressive, an unconventional strategist, and got to have fights in the coolest places (the water wheel three-way duel in the second film lives in my brain as a top cinematic fight). Did he influence my desire to own tall boots and layered jewelry long before they were fashionable in my teenage years? Yes. Yes he did. And his fluid morality was equally interesting to watch. Not sure if he ever crossed into antihero territory, but it was certainly entertaining to see the guy you were rooting for double-cross the other heroes you were also rooting for and wonder how he was going to talk his way out of this one.

Third: Westley, The Dread Pirate Roberts, Princess Bride

Now this guy, this guy was the original quipmaster supreme of clever plots. Perhaps only a pirate in the loosest definition, since he abandons piracy pretty much immediately the second he sees Buttercup again and we never see him on a ship, but those skills don't leave--and his sword fight with Inigo is another banger of a fight scene. Dashing, romantic, sarcastic, and determined, delivering a scathing bluff the likes of which I haven't seen before or since, Westley is a sly rogue I personally wouldn't like to be in the way of.

Fourth: Silver, Treasure Planet

You want to talk about pirates with grey morality but hearts of gold, plus excellent character design and voice acting, it doesn't get much better than Mr. Silver the Cyborg here. In a richly-animated movie stuffed full with more atmosphere and unique character design than you can shake a stick at, for Silver to stand out as not just a main support character, but a fully-realized one with a complicated past and a truly frightening dark side along with genuine emotional depth is quite a feat. I haven't read "Treasure Island", so I don't know how far the script changed for this film, but he's a standout for Disney pirates--and fictional pirates in general, tbh.

Fifth: Captain Shakespeare, Stardust (movie)

What can be said about this magnificent man that hasn't already been said? The performance was stellar, and done in such a way that Captain Shakespeare's cross dressing, while humorous because of how flirty and over-the-top he acts here in front of his mirror despite danger right behind him, doesn't feel like the butt of a cruel joke. He's still a capable captain and leader, and he gets to embrace the soft side of himself while still maintaining a good relationship with his crew and a tough reputation. If piracy as a genre is about freedom, I think this guy might have been one of the first to start challenging the hyper-violent, hyper-masculine image of a pirate on the fictional screen.

So many pirates to love (or hate), so little room!

[elsa-fogen]

Yep. Yeah. That's me. Almost all of it, except, i sleep well (if i manage to fall asleep) Reblogging because maybe some of you didn't know (i also didn't know)

Story time!

Too long don't read: used to sleep on private math lessons because i hate math; it takes hours for me to fall asleep WHEN I SUPPOSED TO, and my sister does it in 3-5 minutes.

I was studying at university and we had MATH there I've always had problems with it. since 5th grade i think (well, i hated math before too but real problems started there) when i changed schools and the new class was behind what I've already studied and i didn't pay attention, until i realized that at some point I was behind. I said "welp, i guess it's to late to try, so fuck it"

So at university we had this very high level math and i just couldn't understand a thing (and we had an awful teacher who was saying evvvvery time something like "yall getting expelled, we're all gonna die") so i decided "if i don't understand, fuck it then, i will not even try" and started skipping math classes.

But i STILL had to pass an exam, we were getting 3 tries and if you fail you're getting expelled. I failed first two what a surprise (i don't know how i managed to pass it after all, i can't remember SHIT, only that i is fucking non-existing number which is square root of -1. Why on earth would you need it i have NO fucking clue.

So i had personal teachers who tried to make me understand at least something to pass the exam. And there was one i remember very well, i even remember that we paid her 10$ per hour (for us that was quite a lot). And i remember her because i was SLEEPING. I just COULDN'T keep my eyes opened. She explains something about deviding by zero and my brain draws the fucking universe collapsing in front of my eyes. She gives me some task, I'm trying to write something and I'm falling asleep and DREAMING about writing, then ahe wakes me up and i see that i didn't write SHIT. It all ended when in the middle of lesson she just kicked me out.

And, what a miracle, I'm leaving her apartments and suddenly, all the sleepiness just wanishes! I'm walking home, thinking about some another AU of mine, roleplaying it with myself in my head, full of energy again.

That's not the only case of this, but it's the strongest i ever felt. But that like happens all the time, EVEN WHEN MY MOM OR MY GRANNY COMES TO ME AND START TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING I'M NOT INTERESTED, IM YAWNING AND FEEL URGE TO FALL ASLEEP. But the moment they leave, It goes away! I was calling it work allergy LMAO

I was diagnosed with adhd in my early childhood (there was also something about epilepsy, but it's ok now so it doesn't matter), not long ago i brought this fact back into my active memory (thanks to Jaiden animations ADHD video for that xD) i kinda used to myself by now and now I'm trying to catch and analyse all moments of adhd kicking in. I know my own tricks and buttons, how to make myself do the thing or just how to force myself into doing something. Because i know if i start, I'll probably lock in and won't get up until it's done (well, if i have at least a tiny bit of interest in that thing, or else i won't), and i hate it when someone interrupts me in the middle of the process. No mom, i can't come right now, i can't finish it later, because i either spend few more hours forcing myself to go back to the task or just forget about it.

But i didn't know that this sleepiness was a legit symptom! I just thought that it's exaderated boredom, that's it, had a joke name for it. That's... Funny to know that this thing is actually also adhd moment.

Also, about sleeping. I have problems falling asleep. I may lie in the bed for hours without even my phone, just rotating my stories in my head, and when i don't have a story to think about, this is just the name of my current hyperfixation with different tones and in different random dialogues that doesn't even make sense. I have no idea how to fall asleep, except when i didn't sleep for like 48 hours (EVEN THEN IT MIGHT BE A PROBLEM AND I START THINKING OF THAT CREEPY PRION SICKNESS AND SCARE MYSELF AGAIN). And my mom told me that it have always been like that with me. She and my dad had the whole ritual to make me fall asleep. Dad would hold me in his arms, his head with me covered with a blanket that i could only see his face (or else I would look everywhere and never fall asleep), and rock me for HOURS while i was SCREAMING and CRYING the whole time like i was tortured. But when I'd finally fall asleep, they could be as loud as usual and didn't have to whisper, because wake me up is a whole different story. And my mom was SHOCKED when all it took to make my sister fall asleep was just pet her back for 3-5 minutes.

I don't think of myself as... Sick or ill. That's how i was all my life, i don't know anything else. That's not a sickness to me, that's just part of my personality. Maybe sometimes some parts of it bite me in the ass and make my life harder, but i don't know other life. That's the only one I've got, and i guess I'm fine with that (tho now that i think about it, i need to pay more attention to how i write the characters, and don't make them all ADHDshers LOL i need to study neurotypical people under a microscope 🔬🔍)

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺

[samuell2]

GOJIRAAAAAAAAAAAA Blog Post

Godzilla is so iconic that I was scared the original wouldn't live up to the hype, but I'm happy to say I really enjoyed this film. I watched this movie a bit late, after our class session. Summarizing the movie for me, my discussion partner Zander said that it never lingers. When I finally got around to watching the film, I understood exactly what he was talking about. This movie has some amazing pacing. The plot moves quickly, and individual scenes are mostly quite short, without long or dramatic poses. My ADHD brain loved this film for that reason.

As for Godzilla the monster, I was quite impressed by the practical effects. The big lizard's first reveal on Odo island was genuinely pretty tense, even though the monster itself looks sort of goofy by modern standards. On his own, Godzilla isn't that scary, but the terrified reactions of the actors to his presence really sells him as this unstoppable force of nature. Godzilla's carnage in Tokyo is also scarier than the destruction we see in modern films, for a couple reasons. During these scenes, the camera tends to focus on smaller groups and individuals (a mother holding her daughters, for example) rather than the massive fleeing crowds directors today are fond of. It makes the destruction feel more real and personal, rather than just bombastic. Even before Godzilla reaches Tokyo, we see him crush a house on Oto island, and watch a mother cower under the sinking roof-- a tragic scene that is reminiscent of World War II. Another reason these scenes are so scary is just how they look: the pitch black skies of Tokyo, the deep shadows everywhere, the walls of flame. Its a genuinely nightmarish atmosphere. The production in this movie is just on another level-- there are so many cool locations and shots. The scene at the hospital after Godzilla's first attack on Tokyo was especially impressive, and, of course, heartbreaking.

Anyway, my classmates have already commented on a lot of the political commentary with H-bomb testing and the cold war arms race, but one part I thought was especially interesting was the decision to initially keep the existence of Godzilla from the public after it was known that H-bomb tests had likely roused him from his slumber. The politicians were wary of disturbing relations with the US, something that illustrates the unequal nature of the two countries relationships during this period. Indeed, it was only because of that unequal relationship that the US was able to conduct tests at all.

Anyway, really enjoyed this movie.

[prismaticstreams]

Top ten treatments that have helped my ME/CFS the most

I’ve had a few people recently ask me what has helped my health the most, so I thought I’d make a list to share with people a bit more easily. The most important starting point is to practice pacing, but I assume most people reading this are already aware of that - so I want to share what has helped me in particular. 

Please note that people with ME/CFS tend to be incredibly variable, and therefore what works for me may not work for you. It might even make you worse, so please make up your own mind and tune into your instincts. The other thing to consider is that what works well in one phase of your journey may not work in another phase, so you have to be open to changing and adjusting things over time.

1. Ketogenic diet: This was recommended by my GP, who said it was one of the few things that seemed to help a lot of people with ME/CFS. My experience was that going ketogenic helped greatly with regulating blood sugar crashes, and stabilised my energy levels. Removing grains also helps to heal the gut.

2. Carnivore diet: The carnivore diet removes a lot of foods which are harsh on the gut, and can be a great way of starting an elimination diet. Many people also benefit from using it long-term. I had a six month 50% remission when I first went carnivore. Unfortunately I moved into a house with a severe mould problem, so that remission did not continue indefinitely.

3. Intermittent fasting: I find I tend to have more energy when fasting, but your mileage may vary. Intermittent fasting can be quite powerful as it enables the brain to prune excess neurons. There are many conditions where excess neuronal connections in the brain cause issues, including autism and ADHD - which are highly correlated with auto/neuroimmune conditions like ME/CFS. (See RCCX Theory for more info on this connection.)

4. Earthing/grounding: I immediately noticed a dramatic calming effect on my nervous system when I first started using an earthing cord! I found it drastically improved my sleep and inflammation levels as well. It’s very inexpensive compared to supplements, as I find one cord/wristband can last me anywhere from 1-3 years. You can also practice earthing by walking barefoot outside, for example on grass or a sandy beach.

5. Liver: When I first started taking Ancestral Supplements liver capsules, I had a dramatic increase in energy for several weeks. I find liver seems to combine many essential nutrients (especially bioavailable B12 and choline) and many people without ME also report that it improves their energy levels. I don’t particularly like the taste of it but if you can find a way to eat it more, it’s worth it.

6. Supplements: I’ve tried many different vitamins, minerals and supplements over the years, and it’s hard to make broad recommendations that will help everyone with ME/CFS. That said, I have found Rhodiola quite good for anxiety and energy. Methylated B vitamins like Folinic Acid and Hydroxy B12 have greatly helped my anxiety levels and detox pathways. I noticed right after I started taking them that my mind instantly felt clearer.

7. CPAP machine: I highly recommend getting a sleep test to check for sleep apnea. Getting a CPAP didn’t cure my ME but it definitely improved my overall wellbeing and enabled me to lose weight. Getting good sleep is so crucial with conditions like ME/CFS!

8. Lymphatic drainage: I have consistently found that lymphatic drainage massage and dry brushing really improve my energy levels immediately. I dry brush all over every day before showering. Professional lymphatic drainage massage is also worthwhile if you can afford it. There’s also plenty of videos on YouTube for DIY lymph drainage if you want to do it yourself. 

However, if you’ve never done it before, you may have some nausea or detox reactions afterwards. I got quite nauseous the first time I did it, but after doing it a few times I was fine.

9. Cool showers/baths: I find cool showers and baths really help tone the vagus nerve and increase my overall energy levels. I’d recommend just starting small and not overdoing it, to avoid putting too much stress on your body. For example, just run the water on cool for 30 seconds at the end of your normal shower. You can gradually increase this over time. 

10. Adrenal support: I find taking adrenal glandulars and supplements targeted for adrenal support has helped me dramatically, so I would recommend looking into that further. Vitamin C, magnesium, licorice root and B5 are also known to support the adrenals.

11. TRS by Coseva: This is a nanozeolite used for heavy metal detoxing, yet it has many other benefits including antiviral properties, gut healing and reduces histamines. If you have issues with leaky gut, I definitely recommend using this. It’s quite expensive but was well worth it for me. High quality colostrum (I buy from MagMed in NZ) is also great for gut healing, but please avoid the cheap stuff as it can trigger hormone imbalances.

12. EFT tapping: I have found EFT tapping to be the best technique for stress relief and resolving trauma that I’ve found so far. It hasn’t cured my ME but it definitely helps with improving my mood and overall sense of wellbeing. I really like it as it’s pretty easy to do on your own and customise to suit your needs. I’ve also benefited from alternative modalities like Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, Eden Energy Medicine and The Emotion Code.

[mcrmadness]

Really wondering if it's an ADHD or ND thing, RSD or just something completely else - the way I easily see human relations. Or, the way they make me feel.

Usually it's said that ND friendships are the type where you can be without talking to the other person for months and then when you do talk again, you continue like there never was any pause as if you spoke just yesterday. I do have friendships like these, and they are my favorite type of a friendship. Mostly because they feel stable and something that even the time (passing) cannot kill. I suspect that these are also often friendships that have already existed for a longer period of time, and people I'm quite close with and can talk about almost anything with. People whom I consider IRL friends too even if I have never met them irl - people whose real name I know and whose real face (or the face that belongs to the body they live in currently) I have seen either in photos or in a video call (or irl if I've met them).

Then the rest of the people I know. I just have the constant feeling of one day growing apart. I don't know when, I just feel like it will happen one day, and this feeling can be triggered by not talking with them for a day or two, or only after months of not interacting. And it can be that I've been talking with someone a lot and then not for a few days and I'm already wondering whether this is The Day we start to grow apart. Especially when we weren't even that close, or didn't even know each other for that long that there would even really be anything to grow apart from. I'd say that I even barely know But I definitely feel that this is more common when I don't have that long history with someone yet. This person can be an irl friend, a classmate, an online friend or an online acquaintance.

The latter version is quite exhausting, to say the least. I think I'm not the only one it's exhausting to, I think it's also exhausting to other people who have to interact with me. Like, sometimes I feel like I just lost a friend just because an online acquaintance has changed a bit, and we never even were friends. Literally just spoke online sometimes, and then I randomly have again the "oh we're growing apart :o" mood when there literally never was anything to grow apart from! I barely even knew the other person!

I don't really know how my brain defines the people I interact with. It seems to be completely random. There probably is something my brain sees in those people that I don't see. Maybe I like someone as a person so much that I'm constantly afraid of losing them. But that still doesn't explain it, because shouldn't I then be afraid of losing my best friends too? But I am not afraid of that, cos the friendships feel so stable. Sure one huge thing probably is whether I have talked about this issue with a friend of not. But even that alone doesn't mean this fear/sensation would go away. I often talk about this with people and while talking, it might feel very secure and that with this person I'll be friends forever and we're super close friends and whatnot. Then I'm alone and suddenly I feel like the cake is a lie. I don't feel secure anymore, I am no longer sure that I'm gonna be friends forever with someone and that the "friendship level" will remain stable no matter how much time would pass.

I feel like I'm kinda hovering somewhere between the neurotypical and neurodivergent view over friendships. I'm never sure about whether someone likes me as strongly as I like them, and for some reason it's always very embarrassing to me if I like someone more than they like me. And I'm also very confused if someone seems to like me more than I like them. I'm kinda constantly looking for this 50-50 type of liking ratio. I always compare it to how friendships are in The Sims games - everyone always likes each other mutually as much and it can't be that X like Y 80/100 and Y likes X only 50/100. It's always 80/100 or 50/100 for both. And IRL it always confuses me when people can like each other in uneven amounts.

The same way this "growing apart" thing is for me like the friendship notifications in The Sims games. I have talked about this before too, but I really feel like my frienships work as TS friendships do - after not interacting for a while, you get this notification "Sim X haven't called sim Y in a while and they're no longer friends." This is literally how this whole growing apart thing feels like to me, and it's so confusing because I might think I no longer have ANYTHING in common with someone. Until they start talking to me again and it's like there never was any pause. And it confuses me even more because I do not know where we're at. Friends or not? And I don't feel comfortable about asking in case I misunderstood everything because I have ADHD and emotional dysregulation.

But yeah, it's very exhausting. Maybe it's also related to my generalized anxiety. But it'd be nice if I could just not worry about friendships "possibly ending soon" cos these stable friendships you can put on hold are just so much nicer so why can't I view every friendship like this? Or is that because so many of my past friendships have ended, and I'm trying to protect myself with this so when/if a friendship ends, it's not that big of a shock because I was already prepared for it ending one day... idk.