#moving it out of the way myself is frequently not an option

[bladeofthestars]

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[itssquash]

faggot (mindless self indulgence -- dennis reynolds edit)

[ms-demeanor]

Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

[causenessus]

Hi! Congratulations on your 1K, you really deserve it! I've just seen your post about your event and was thinking of sending something. Could you write ⭐️ with Sakusa where the reader is his roommate and suffer from insomnia ? And could the reader be personality-wise like Sakusa, but the two are already close friends or whatever you want them to be ? This is maybe silly lol, anyway thank you for this event it’s really cool!

can't sleep? | sakusa k.

sakusa x f!reader

written in second person

one word prompt from 1k followers event: ⭐ -> insomnia

"maybe i'll just place my hands over you and close my eyes real tight. there's a light in your eyes and you know <3" from look on down from the bridge by mazzy star

word count: 2.8k words

anon. thank u for this. u have fed all the omi girlies well tonight <3 thank you so much for requesting and i hope you enjoy this fic!!!

notes: lots of fluff <3 THEY ARE STRETCHING!!! JUST STRETCHING TOGETHER i stress this bc i couldn't take myself seriously and even y/n has a moment of "should i ask what we are after this?" but they're just stretching okay. also i frequented this list of stretches and literally followed its order so in case you want to know what stretch they're doing LMAO THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD I'M SORRY 😭 i attempted to proofread this!!! but i'm sorry for any typos </3

THANK YOU TO @nectardaddy FOR HELPING ME DECIDE ON A COLOR AND MAKING ME VERY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!! I HOPE YOU ALSO ENJOY IT <3

kiyoomi likes his routines. he likes to be home by a certain time, eat dinner at a certain time, make sure the dishes are washed, and then he likes to retire to bed by a certain time. when he decided to find a roommate in order to split costs, he had been slightly worried that his routines would be ruined, but the universe had worked in his favor.

you had been his first option. he hadn’t even tried to send out messages to anyone else "just in case you declined his offer," he had just simply hoped you would say yes. you were quite frankly everything he could hope for as a roommate; he had known from the times you'd hung out throughout your years in high school that you liked things to be clean similar to him, and trying to find a time for you both to meet up throughout college meant he knew that your current schedules would line up nicely.

and luckily you had agreed enthusiastically, excited to move in with one of your closest friends. it eased your mind to know he would also be organized and keep to himself, which was not something you could say if you had moved in with someone like atsumu (would only become a reality if you had no other option) or osamu (you would consider it, after a lot of convincing and compromising).

and kiyoomi had been right. the decision to room had worked out perfectly in nearly every way. you always got home before him and would make your own dinner and take care of your dishes, leaving the place empty and spotless for him by the time he returned. sometimes, you even left notes for him, saying you had leftovers that he was free to eat if he wanted. 

and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you. you were good friends, after all, and one of the few people he found he could always tolerate even when a day had stressed him out. but you both had agreed that you liked having time in the kitchen to yourself rather than two of you trying to be in there at the same time. it wasn’t anything personal; you were both independent people who valued their alone time. and when he saw you around the apartment, he never failed to talk to you, even if it was just a small nod of acknowledgment. you always had a calm and collected kind of demeanor, which he reasoned he liked because it was similar to him, in contrast to the men who had too much energy for their own good that he was surrounded by every day.

your similar attitudes had also led to a lot of shared nights together. sometimes on the nights when you stayed a little bit later at work or school, he would come home and you’d still be eating at the counter, zoned out on your phone, not even noticing him until he placed his bag on the table.

“oh, sorry, omi. welcome back, i can leave–”

“no, you’re fine. stay there,” he’d cut you off.

he’d navigate around the kitchen, gathering what he needed while you continued eating your own meal. sometimes things were peacefully silent between you both as you resumed scrolling on your phone; you were just two roommates in their kitchen, illuminated by the warm light of a hanging lamp overhead. other times you asked him how his day was, and you would both chat while he made his own dinner, and if his day was bad, sometimes you invited him to watch a movie with you.

that was something that had confused him. he always was preparing himself to say no, that he was tired, or that he just wanted to be in bed in an hour, but instead he often found himself agreeing to the proposal. he realized after a bit of thought that it was because he liked being around you. he was willing to amend his routines to include you in them.

a friend had once warned him that he could never really know someone until he lived with them. and he had found that with you, he only liked you more once he started rooming with you. he liked how responsible and respectful you were with everything you did, aware of your surroundings and the space you shared with him. he found that he looked forward to seeing you every day, and when your door was shut, sometimes he felt conflicted. like he wanted to see you, but he didn't have the right to invade your space so instead, he was stuck alone in his own room, with you across the hall.

the only problem between you both (although he hated to call it that) was how late you stayed up. but even then, you tried to be careful about how loud you were, stepping quietly over the aged floorboards and using minimal lighting to navigate your way through the apartment. 

he wasn’t going to call you out for it. it was only a mild inconvenience, and he knew you couldn’t really help it. you had warned him before you moved in that sometimes you got restless at night, unable to sleep no matter how badly you wanted to.

he didn’t mind, he told you, and you had signed the lease. and truthfully, he didn't. but recently, your sleepless nights had become more frequent. for him, he rarely struggled with the problem. he could easily pass out on his bed at any time of the day. but sometimes he would wake up to your footsteps through the thin walls.

part of him worried for you, thinking to himself that this was what, the eighth day in a row he had woken up to you wandering around? while another part of him (a very cranky one) really wanted you to go to bed (for your sake and his own).

he stepped out of his room, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the lighting of the living room lamp that was on. it wasn’t as bright as if you had turned on the overhead lights, but he’d just come from his pitch-black room.

you were curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest and biting the side of your thumb, still unable to get rid of how antsy you felt despite getting up from your bed. you looked up at him as he stepped into the room, the light of the screen reflecting against the side of your face, “oh god, omi. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you.”

the moment he sees the bags under your own eyes, any hint of irritation he felt about being woken up immediately fades. “it’s fine,” he says, coming to sit with you on the edge of the couch, “can you not sleep?”

you exhale a long breath through your nose at the question, “no. it’s been bad lately. i can’t fall asleep or i wake up a few hours later just feeling even more tired.”

“so you’re watching tv?” he says, raising his brows and looking at you. you purse your lips, pouting under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeve of your shirt.

you give him a small nod, “yeah. i mean, i’m really tired but i can’t sleep so i came out here to watch something.”

“well screens aren’t going to help you fall asleep,” he chides and you sigh.

“i knew you were going to say that. but what else am i supposed to do?” you complain.

“have you tried stretching?” he suggests.

you look at him, brows raised in confusion, “no, why would i do that?”

he rolls his eyes at your sass but it can’t be helped. he really only knows about the benefits of stretching because they’ve been ingrained into his mind from years of volleyball, “it helps relax your body, especially when you're stiff or sore so that you can go to bed. it’s what i do when i can’t sleep.”

“oh,” you reply, playing with a stray string coming out of the couch.

it’s silent for a moment. “are you not gonna do it? are we just gonna sit here in silence?”

you look up at him in embarrassment, “well, i don’t know what stretches to do! you don’t have to stay up with me, omi. you can go back to sleep. i don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.”

he sighs, laying back and sinking into the couch, “i’m not sleeping until you do.”

“well then tell me what i should do,” you say, extending your legs in front of you, placing them firmly onto the ground so you’re sitting up.

he stands and your eyes follow him curiously, unsure of where he’s going. eventually, he’s standing behind you at the back of the couch, and turns your head forward so that you’re looking directly at the wall in front of you. “what are you doing?” you ask, body going rigid.

“i’m just guiding you through some of these stretches, relax,” he answers and feels you calm down, letting him push your head gently towards one shoulder. his hand is on your opposite shoulder, keeping it straight while you feel a stretch in your neck.

“thanks,” you mumble as he repeats the movement for the other side of your neck. he gives you a small “mhm” in response, focused on making sure you’re feeling the stretch without hurting you.

he ends up leading you to the ground, modeling the stretches for you so that you can follow along. he guides you to lay on your side, with one arm extended out in front of you while the other is behind you, and you face each other as you both lay there, arms mimicking a T.

you giggle, unable to control yourself as you stare into his eyes. “what’s so funny?” he chuckles, smiling at the sound of your laughter.

“i just feel so stupid right now,” you answer, shifting slightly in your position. “but this is helping a bit, i think. i’m feeling a little better.”

he hums in acknowledgment of your words, his smile staying on his face before you switch to the other side.

“what’s next?” you ask, sitting up.

“do you know what the cat-cow is?” he asks, brushing off his arms from where they touched the ground. when you look at him, mouth agape, he gives you a defensive look back, unsure of what caused your reaction. “what?” he says, tilting his head slightly.

“omi, i’m not getting on my hands and knees,” you say, embarrassed that you even have to explain yourself, but you’d rather say it than humiliate yourself further on all fours.

“oh my god,” he rolls his eyes, putting a palm to his face, “you’re turning this into something it’s not. i’m not gonna look at you or anything. i’ll even turn away, okay? just do it, it’s good for you. i’m tired of hearing you complain about your back.”

you sigh dejectedly but comply, moving into the position. you can’t deny that you feel less stiff, but you also can’t help but overthink the entire situation. if anyone had told you a year ago that the man you had been crushing on for years was going to ask you to move in with him and months later he’d be on the floor stretching with you because he really wants you to be able to sleep, you would’ve laughed in their face.

but this was reality, and this felt like an intimate moment between you both. you were unsure of what to make of the situation; it had come as a big enough shock that he cared enough about your sleep. but you also shouldn’t have been that surprised. 'he’s just being a good friend,' you try to reason. he asked you to move in because no one in their right mind would want to live under the same roof as atsumu, and you both value a clean, organized house.

but where were you supposed to draw the line between friends and something more?

his careful attentiveness towards you had started to make you think that maybe he saw you as more of a friend as well. you never imagined that he would ever want you to stay in the kitchen with him while he was cooking when it had been a bad day, and you were even more surprised the first time he agreed to watch a movie with you. you considered yourselves good friends but you didn’t expect him to actually want to spend so much time with you on top of everything else he had going on. he never seemed to tire of seeing you around the house; instead, he always made sure to say hi or ask how your day had been.

you wanted to bring it up to him soon, you really did. the feeling was starting to eat away at you, and this night together wasn’t helping in the slightest.

after a few more stretches, you stood up, reaching your arms above you as you yawned. “think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asks, following you up and dusting off his clothes.

the thought of going back to your stuffy room makes you drop your arms and the content look on your face fades away. you felt tired, but something about your room just felt so unwelcoming. you didn’t want to walk back in there, where the air would feel heavy, your mattress would be too stiff, your pillow too soft, and blanket too scratchy. there was always something that bothered you about your bed every night, and being alone with your thoughts again would prevent you from falling asleep. you’d be stuck tossing and turning in your bed on a bed that never felt clean or comfortable, you could already feel it. 

“what’s wrong?” he steps into your line of sight. you look up at him as a thought crosses your mind, making you immediately look back down at the ground, face turning red.

“um–” you start, and then immediately close your mouth. it was a stupid thought.

but what’s the worst he could do? say no? give you a disgusted look? kick you out into the cold after spending half an hour stretching with you? that last one was a little extreme, but maybe you’d say it and he’d laugh in your face. or gag (being dramatic, again). either way, whatever he said, if it wasn’t a yes, your life would be forever ruined.

“y/n,” he says, and you look back up at him, feeling like you’re about to collapse under the weight of his gaze. but your mouth opens, unable to keep it in.

“i just–” you have to stop to take in a deep breath, the words getting caught in your throat. he keeps looking at you the entire time, waiting to listen to what you have to say. “i don’t want to go back to my own bed,” you blurt, finally spitting it out. “it just doesn’t feel right. i don’t know how to explain it, but i know i won’t be able to sleep alone in my own bed. i’m sorry,” you add an apology on at the end, feeling embarrassed by your own confession.

when he doesn’t respond, you feel even worse. “nevermind, forget i said anything, i’m so sorry. thank you for helping me stretch, i’m going to go to bed now–” you spin on your heel, moving to run away as calmly as you can manage when he catches your wrist. you let out a small exclaim of surprise at the touch as he turns you back around.

“don’t apologize. and don’t lie to me. i want you to sleep,” he says, looking away as he runs a hand through his hair, preparing to say his next few words. “would it–” he shuts his mouth, feeling the anxiety settle in his chest, “would it help to sleep with me?”

neither of you are looking at each other. he’s staring at the wall and you’re looking at the floor, face hot and burning. “if you don’t mind, i think it would,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear and look back at you, letting out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

he’s still holding your wrist, too, he realizes, but he doesn’t let go. he runs a thumb along the side of your arm, grabbing your attention again. he’s looking you in the eyes, and he wants to tell you that he’s not uncomfortable with sleeping in the same bed as you. in fact, it’s quite the opposite, but he’s not sure what you’ll say back, so he settles for a neutral response, instead, “yeah. of course i’m fine with it.”

maybe in the morning, when he wakes up next to you, finds your limbs entangled with his under his sheets, and sees the sunlight peeking through the curtains and onto your skin, he’ll be able to choke out a three-word confession. but for now, he only leads you silently to his room, letting you slip under the covers first before he follows after, holding you close.

[pastelminx]

My Best Friends Sister (Pt. 1)

"Hey man, is Katie okay? She seems really on edge or something." I ask my friend Connor.

We've all know each other since we were kids. Their dad was never around so Connor and I looked after Katie and their mom. Now we still spend most of our free time together. Katie lives with my friend Conner so I see her frequently. She's normally bubbly and happy but this week she hasn’t been herself. Conner cares about her but he can be kind of a dick to her, where I've always had a soft spot for her. The older we get, the larger that spot has grown but I'd never act on it.

"I don't know, she won't talk to me. She's been acting like a little brat again and shutting me out so I've started to give her some space. She talks to you sometimes though, maybe you could attempt to see what's going on." He says, a bit hopeful. Of course, I'd take any chance to talk to her.

"Yeah, I'll go see if I can get her to talk. Call 911 if I don't make it out" I joke and we both laugh.

*Knocks on bedroom door*

"Katie it's me, can I come in?" I ask, trying to sound normal.

"Leave me alone!" She shouts back. I roll my eyes.

"Katie come on, don't start with the attitude." I say sternly. I look over and my friend is looking at me like I've lost my mind. She hates being talked to that way. Well… she acts like she hates it but I've seen her slip enough to know better.

"I'm going to count to 5 and if this door isn't open, we're going to have some serious problems. 1.... 2.... 3" I start counting and the door flies open.

"Fine! You better have a good reason for this.” She huffs and I smile, knowing I was right and my friend is probably in shock that it worked. She sits on her bed with her arms crossed, sporting a sour look. I start looking around before I sit down next to her.

"Come on Sugar, tell me what's going on. You haven’t been yourself all week" I say softly. She just shakes her head and basically pouts.

I adjust myself on her bed and notice something... A different sound. I move again and it's coming from the bed. I get up and lift the covers, seeing a plastic mattress protector sticking out from under the sheets. She's mortified but silent as she looks away from my gaze.

"Care to explain this, sugar? I know you haven't always had this. You can tell me if something is going on." I say gently. No answer again. I sigh knowing I'm going to have to do this the hard way.

"You've got two choices. 1, you look at me and tell me the truth about what's going on. 2, I go through all of your belongings… and device history until I find out." I tell her sternly.

She whips her head around so fast to glare at me. "I'll call my brother in here. He won't let you do that." She retorts, thinking that would work.

"Who do you think sent me in here, Sugar? I'm happy to get to the bottom of this either way so what's it going to be." I ask. She just stares at me in silence so I take that as the hard option and I get up to start on her closet.

"Wait!" She shouts, sounding panicked.

"Yes?" I ask without turning around.

"I'll tell you. Please don't go through my things, Jace" she says in a defeated tone. I walk back to her but instead of sitting on the bed, I sit on her computer chair. I move it right in front of her and sit with one leg on either side of hers.

"I'm all ears, Sugar." I say to her. She waits a minute before letting out a big sigh and starting.

"You're the last person I want to know about this, this is extremely embarrassing and I don't want to tell you." She states, hoping that I'll back off. But I watch her and wait for her to continue. "I've been extremely stressed with finals and work right now... It's brought on an old problem that I'm trying to deal with." She said and waited for me to say something but I just wait for her to continue. "I used to wet the bed and sometimes have accidents as a kid. I recently went to the doctor and she told me that stress is likely the reason I'm dealing with it again. But she couldn't tell me when it would go away." She finishes and she's bright red now and fidgeting with her fingers.

"Is that the whole truth? How often are these accidents happening and when did this start? Aside from your mattress protector, what are you doing to help with it?" I ask as I ease up on the tough guy act. I remember that she used to wet the bed sometimes but as far as she knows, I never knew.

"Yes, that's the whole truth. This is really embarrassing and it bothers me a lot. I don't want people to know or to think I'm some dumb baby. It started a few months ago and has just gotten worse. It's been happening every night and when it's a really stressful day sometimes I have an accident or two." She confesses but didn't answer everything.

"And aside from the mattress protector...?" I ask, reminding her. The poor girl looks like she's about to cry.

"I've been wearing diapers again to bed." She chokes out. I know she's embarrassed but none of this bothers me like she thinks.

"What about for your daytime accidents, Sugar?" I ask.

"I still wear my panties during the day." She says quickly.

"You were a very good girl for telling me the truth. I'm so sorry you're dealing with this but you don't have to go through it alone. Your brother and I can help you and help take the stress off the best we can. No one will think you're a baby or think less of you, everyone knows how independent and intelligent you are. You've done a great job by going to the doctor and taking care of your nighttime accidents so far. Let us help you." I say almost pleading.

"No! No. He can't find out, I don't want h-" she starts but I cut her off.

"Don't start that, he has a right to know and he will be finding out. He doesn't have to be involved if you don't want but he needs to be aware. It's very important, do you understand?" I ask sternly, giving her a look.

"I don't want him involved and I don't want to talk to him about it. " She states.

"Fine, I will handle it and make sure he respects your wishes." I reassure her and I see her visibly relax.

"Would you like my help, Sugar? I'm sure it can't be easy with your work load and you know I'll be here all summer while your brother is overseas. I can help you with your studies, the extra laundry, your diaper changes, the apartment chores." I start listing things and she goes rigid.

"I can manage just fine, thanks" she says through gritted teeth. I'm thinking it might be time to call it the end of the chat to let her relax when I notice her hand placement on her lap and the dark spot creeping out around it.

"Stand up, Sugar." I say quickly and she shakes her head at me. "Now. 1.... 2...." I start the countdown. I'm not sure why that works but it always has. She stands and tries to cover her accident. I see the tears prick her eyes as she tries not to let me see how upset she is.

"It's okay honey, I know this was a hard conversation. Would you please let me help you?" I say softly, trying to coax her into letting me. She gives me a faint nod. "You know I'll need verbal confirmation, Sugar." I say, hoping that didn't change her answer.

"Yes, please, Jace." She hiccups out as the wet spot grows. I direct her into her bathroom and start the shower. I undress her while the water warms.

"You're okay, Sugar, I got you. You take a long hot shower and I'm going to get the laundry started. I'll be here when you're all done though to get you ready for bed. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything if you let me know where you're hiding your diapers." I speak softly and brush her hair out of her eyes.

"In the closet... under the loose floorboard on the left." She says sheepishly. I raise an eyebrow but let it go.

"Okay the water is warm. Get cleaned up." I say and then get to work on the laundry like I said I would.

I lay out a clean blanket on her bed and go looking for these diapers. Oh, I definitely found them... I had to chuckle. They're not boring medical diapers. They have cute little animals in pastel colors all over them. She even has baby powder and rash cream. Oh, and there's a little stuffed animal down there too... That's no place for one. I got all of her supplies out and laid it on the bed ready for her. Next, I picked out her pj's, one of her cute nightgowns seemed fitting.

I heard the water shut off and I walked into the bathroom with a big fluffy towel that I had warmed in the dryer. She hesitated but let me dry her off. I think she was still in shock and unsure what to do or say so I let her just enjoy being taken care of. She froze when she walked out of the bathroom and saw what was waiting for her on the bed.

"I don't need all of that stuff, Jace. It can go back." She tried arguing but I didn't even respond. I just guided her to lay down for her diaper. God, she was so pretty and even putting a diaper on her had me worked up. I didn't give in to those thoughts though. I put cream and powder on her and taped up her cute diaper. I had to admit she was actually adorable like this. Naked except for a thick diaper was not what I expected to be turned on by. I put her nightgown on her and pulled back the covers for her to climb into bed. It was 8:30 which is extremely early for her but I know she hasn’t had a lot of sleep lately.

"Thank you for being such a good girl and letting me take care of you. I know that was hard but I hope I helped ease some of your stress. Your clothes and blanket will be dry in the morning. You, Sugar, are going to get some sleep. I want you to unwind and relax. I know you extremely well so I put a timer on your TV and your phone. It's temporary, don't worry, I just wanted to make sure you relax tonight. Your laptop is staying in my room tonight as well. I'm just down the hall if you need me, the timer doesn't mean you can't get ahold of me anytime. I promise things will get better soon. Night night, Sugar." I let her know and started to get up but she grabbed my wrist.

"Thank you, Jace. I really appreciate your understanding." She said to me. I could tell she wanted to say something else but I didn't push it.

"No need to thank me, Sugar. Get some sleep." I say and then walk out of her room.

[steviewashere]

🪱🪱Worm Wednesday!!!!!🪱🪱

I was tagged by the lovely @hotluncheddie! Hello, I'm sorry for the rambling mess this is going to be. But I know I missed this like two weeks ago, so bear with me.

Okay, I'm going to try and be normal here. I have, honestly, so many worms in my brain. They're dancing and stomping and I'm just going fucking nuts with how much is in my brain at the moment. And also I took excedrin this morning for my migraine and that had caffeine in it and it's more caffeine than I would normally have—anyway.

Y'all already know one of my brain worms, the whole omega verse sensitive nips omega Steve thing. Which, I will plug the post here because I don't have the energy (yes, I do, but I don't want to echo myself) to share all the craziness about that in one post.

I'm also thinking about young Steve Harrington, which is kudos to this post and lots of people's tweets over on the twitter. I won't go into it, same reasons as the omega verse thing so just...again, bear with me.

But! But the actual brain worms I'm having currently, in this very moment, also have to do with another post I made on here. I want to go more in-depth with, though. So, some days ago, I came across an Instagram Reel that was a clip from the YouTube video interview between Jon Bernthal and Dungeon Master Deborah Ann Woll.

So, brief brief summary of this video is basically: Jon Bernthal says that he wants to play D&D, Deborah Ann Woll then gives him a scenario of walking through the woods and while he's walking he hears snap of twigs, and then she basically prompts him with "What do you do?" And he responds, now I can't remember exactly what he says, but I believe it had something to do with investigating the source of the snapped twigs.

Anyway, the video is excellent and you all should check it out. She basically explains D&D in a way that would make sense to anybody, in the matters of asking a player or a potential player what they'd do in certain scenarios, then bringing in the "rougher" elements such as the History checks or Perception checks in the game.

And I want to write something along the lines of Steve approaching Eddie about D&D. Maybe he wants to play because Dustin keeps bugging him about it, but he's too nervous to accept. Maybe he just wants to know what it's like. Maybe he even wants to be a substitute player one of these days just in case somebody can't show up. Something, y'know, where he's approaching Eddie. But he's really, really confused about where to even begin. He's got a character sheet, he's looking at the manuals loaned to him or he even bought himself, he's looking at all these stats and all these options and he just doesn't know where to begin.

Also, brief intervene here, I would be basing this off of 5e rules because that's what I play and frequently toy with. So...don't be mad at me if I get something "inaccurate for the time". I, first of all, honestly don't care. And second, I was not alive in like 1977 when the game first came out. And there's nobody in my life who played it then or possibly has played it ever outside of 5e. Moving on.

So, he tries to explain his character sheet to Eddie, obviously getting a bit overwhelmed in the process. But Eddie stops him. Says something like, "Hold on, okay? Let's just take a baby step here. I'm going to give you a scenario and then I want you to tell me what you'd do."

And he lays out that same, or even just something similar, to what Deborah Ann Woll gave. (I'm going to base this off of the video. Very original, I am.) So it's something like:

"Okay, you've got a small dagger attached to your belt, it's concealed within a hilt. And on your back, there's a bow and a quiver—or a pouch—of arrows. You're walking through the woods. It's dark, heavy clouds hanging overhead, moon obstructed, you can barely see your surroundings. There's leaves under your feet, gravel, sticks. But then, before you can step your foot down next, something crunches in the distance on your left. What do you do?"

There's a pause. A long moment where Steve is considering his options.

"It's a far away sound, right?" Steve checks and Eddie nods. There's a little hmph from Steve as he continues to think. "Can I tell how far away it is? Is there a way to distinct the length of it?"

Eddie maybe smirks, eyes already glowing. "Give a perception check." And at Steve's befuddled expression, leaning in and brows furrowed, Eddie continues on. "So, you're going to roll one of those dice that you always see the kids with. The D20, that's the one you'd use right now. 20 is the highest you can get"—

"The best I can get. And 1 is obviously the lowest, so the worst."

"Right! So...let's say you were to pick up a D20 right now and roll it. You get a...a fourteen. And your perception, one of those skills on the top of your paper"—and Eddie would grab Steve's character sheet, to point out the number he already placed there—"this one right here. And on your paper, it looks to be pretty high. A sixteen is what you have. So...I'm going to ask you to add three more to your dice roll."

Steve squints at the paper. He doesn't take long to do the math, muttering a little under his breath. "Okay...I'd have a seventeen for my perception check." And he looks up to Eddie for confirmation, in which he gets. "And if it's possible out of twenty...that means I can probably figure it out well, right?"

Eddie nods with a smug hum. "You're already a natural." He leans back a little from Steve. Eyes away in thought. Goes on, "So, I'll know right away, based on that number you give me that you're extremely perceptive. I tell you...okay, the sound you hear is roughly ten feet away on your left."

"That's really close," Steve murmurs. "I think I'll...I'll ready that bow on my back. Take it off, grab for one of my arrows. Poise it."

"Mmm...And as soon as you get your bow in the right position, you begin to make out what seems like a pair of eyes. From the darkness between the trees, those eyes emerge closer and closer, revealing the large figure of a sixteen foot owlbear. Its feathers are spread wide, splaying defensively. Eyes glowing, it seems, yellow and bright. The body girth of a bear, but the head and mannerisms of an owl. It trills and squawks in your face. What do you do?"

Anyway, it would go from there. Tried to figure out a monster that wasn't an owlbear because that's what was used in the video. But uh...my brain is not being original right now, so that's basically the whole example from the video. But I just adore that video so much, the simple, yet impactful way she taught the basics. And I think it could translate so well to Eddie and Steve messing with D&D together.

Sorry for a long ass post lmao

Tagging (no pressure): @puppy-steve @scoops-aboy86 @ataliagold @marvel-ous-m @pearynice

@wheneverfeasible @rogueddie @sidekick-hero

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 17: The WIRED Autocomplete Chaos

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

Song : "Talk Too Much - COIN" Carlos, Charles, Mark, and Max had all been invited to do the WIRED Autocomplete interview. As they waited for the team to set up the room, the four of them lounged around, dressed sharply for the occasion—except for Mark, who, as usual, was comfortably clad in just a hoodie.

The conversation flowed naturally, with the group tossing jokes and random comments to pass the time.

“Guys,” Max said, pointing between Charles and Carlos, then Mark and himself. “You ever realize we all share the same initial with our teammate?”

“Mark and Max,” Charles mused, smiling a little. “Charles and Carlos.”

Carlos grinned, leaning back in his chair. "It’s like fate or something."

Mark, with a playful grin, teased, “Or it's just alphabetical coincidence, mate.”

The crew signaled for them to take their places, and the boys got up, ready for the interview.

The interview began like any other typical WIRED Autocomplete session, with each racer taking turns answering questions based on what people frequently search about them. They each peeled off the white strips of paper to reveal the questions beneath.

Max went first, then Carlos, followed by Charles, each taking their share of humorous or predictable questions, though Max’s deadpan answers stirred a few laughs. Carlos’ charm was met with some light teasing from Charles, who clearly enjoyed seeing his teammate squirm over personal questions.

Then, it was Mark’s turn.

“Alright, here we go,” Mark said, rubbing his hands together as the board in front of him was presented. He tore off the first strip with a dramatic flair.

“First question,” he began, reading aloud, “‘Who is Mark Spencer…dating?’” His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at the others.

Charles' mouth twitched into a knowing smirk, eyes locking with Mark's briefly.

“Uh, no one. I’m by myself right now,” Mark said nonchalantly, shrugging as if to play it off. Carlos raised his brows in a teasing manner, but Max chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by the public curiosity.

“Next one,” Mark pulled off another strip. “‘Who is Mark Spencer…married to?’”

Mark widened his eyes, looking mock-offended. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” he laughed. “I just said I’m single, alright?” He shook his head, looking at Charles, who was trying to suppress a grin.

“People are getting ahead of themselves,” Charles quipped, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

“Way ahead,” Mark chuckled. “Okay, moving on.”

He peeled off the next strip. “‘Who are Mark Spencer’s…parents?’ Oh, that’s easy. My dad and mom are Alessandro and Isabella Spencer, owners of the Spencer business.” He leaned back, giving a quick grin to the camera. “That’s a freebie.”

Max gave him a playful nudge, whispering, “You’re getting all the serious ones.”

“Not for long,” Mark said, peeling off the next strip. “‘Who is Mark Spencer…’” He paused for comedic effect, then sarcastically answered, “Nobody.”

The guys all burst out laughing, with Max nearly slapping his knee.

“Oh come on, man,” Charles said, smirking. “You’re a little more than nobody.”

Mark winked at him. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

Mark moved to the next board. “‘What is Mark Spencer’s nationality?’ Oh, that’s simple—I'm from il Bel Paese.” He made an exaggerated Italian gesture with his hands. “Italy.”

Carlos nodded approvingly. “Represent.”

Mark peeled the next strip. “‘What languages can Mark Spencer speak?’ Hmm, I’m fluent in English, Italian, French, Spanish, and German.”

“Show-off,” Max teased.

“What can I say? I like options,” Mark said, winking again, this time at the camera.

Next strip: “‘What is Mark Spencer’s…accent?’” Mark grinned. “Well, I can change my accent depending on who I’m talking to. I can do English, French, Canadian, Italian, Australian, American—whatever feels right at the moment.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Of course, you’re versatile even with accents.”

Mark grinned, moving on to the next question. “‘What is Mark Spencer’s profession?’” He paused for dramatic effect. “I work as a clown.” The sarcasm was evident in his tone, but the others burst into laughter.

“Accurate,” Max muttered, and Carlos couldn’t help but agree.

“Alright, seriously, though—I’m a racer. You know, the one who drives fast and wins things.” Mark smirked before ripping off the next question.

“‘What movie has Mark Spencer been in?’ Oh, this is recent! I was in the Barbie movie, starred as a Ken. It was my first movie, and I had fun shooting it.”

Charles snorted. “You’re going to milk that for a while, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Mark winked.

Then came another question. “‘Mark Spencer’s…ring?’” Mark held up his hand, displaying the ring. “You must mean this one. Apparently, fans are more interested in what I wear than my racing, but hey, it’s cool. This is a gift from Melvin, Charles’ nephew.”

Charles gave a small smile, clearly pleased that Mark was proud to wear it.

Mark continued to the next. “‘Mark Spencer…shirtless.’” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m flattered to see this in the top searches related to me.” He suddenly lifted his hoodie up, flashing his abs.

Carlos burst into laughter, Max shook his head, and Charles groaned while laughing. “Seriously?”

“Nobody can resist these bad boys,” Mark said, winking at the camera before pulling his hoodie down.

“Alright, next question,” he said, trying to regain some composure. “‘What does Mark Spencer think of me?’” He chuckled, leaning in toward the camera with a playful smile. “I think you’re a wonderful person with a bright future ahead of you. You’re great. Also…I’m free tonight, so hit me up at 8.”

Charles facepalmed, shaking his head while chuckling, and Carlos nudged Mark’s arm playfully.

The final question: “‘Mark Spencer X F1 racers ship.’” Mark’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Dude, I knew this was going to show up! These people can’t leave me alone.” He laughed. “One time, I read a ship about me and…Toto. Hilarious.”

The room erupted in laughter, with Charles giving Mark a playful shove as Max and Carlos shook their heads, grinning.

The video ended, but within minutes of it being uploaded, social media was flooded with comments and reactions. Twitter exploded with #MarkSpencerShirtless, and TikTok videos were already circulating with clips of Mark flashing his abs.

“I swear, they’re going to lose their minds over that,” Max muttered as he scrolled through his phone, already seeing the first few posts about the interview.

“You’re never going to hear the end of this,” Charles teased Mark, shaking his head with a smile.

Mark simply leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As soon as the interview hit YouTube, social media exploded, and the comments section was flooded within minutes. Here’s a glimpse of the madness that unfolded:

Top Comments:

@f1fanatic23: "Mark Spencer really said 'nobody' when asked who he is 💀😂. My man needs to stop pretending he's not the hottest driver on the grid!"

@charles_leclerc_stan: "Charles’ reaction when Mark flashed his abs! I think we all felt that moment 😳🔥 #MarkSpencerShirtless #SaveUsCharles"

@max_n_verstappen_fan: "Max trying to keep it together while Mark jokes about being in the Barbie movie. ICONIC. Also, where do I sign up to be a Ken? 😍"

@italian_pride: "Mark flexing his multilingual skills like it's no big deal, and here I am struggling with one language 😩 #Goals"

@spencersimps: "‘Hit me up at 8’ WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?! I swear this man is a menace 😭 someone stop him before I actually text him lmao"

@charlos_racing_duo: "Wait, how did we never notice the Charles/Carlos and Mark/Max teammate initials thing before?! Mind. Blown. 🧠"

@racequeensam: "Mark casually calling himself a clown but then flashing his abs. Sir, the audacity �� #MarkSpencerIsNoClown"

@shipping_f1: "‘Mark Spencer X F1 racers ship’…BRUH. And the fact that he KNOWS about the ships is sending me!!! Not Mark reading about himself and Toto!! 😂😂"

@f1_islife: "Melvin’s ring!! The fact that Charles’ nephew gave him that and Mark wears it with pride, I can’t! 🥺❤️ This man is a softie underneath it all."

Replies to the top comments:

@charles_leclerc_stan: "Right?! Charles was not prepared for that abs reveal. Man was like ‘oh no, not this again’ 😂"

@italian_pride: "And he just casually said ‘Bel Paese’ like it’s nothing! God-tier Italian."

@spencersimps: "If I could hit him up at 8, trust me, I would. Mark, give us a sign!"

@shipping_f1: "Fandom ships are wild but the fact he laughs about them is EVERYTHING. Can’t believe he’s aware of the Toto thing though lmao."

More Reactions:

@f1_gossiphub: “Can we talk about how Mark dropped Melvin’s name like it’s no big deal? That boy is full of surprises 👀”

@redbullracer101: “Max and Mark pretending to be normal during this interview when clearly they’re chaotic kings 😂”

@charles_and_mark4eva: "I’m convinced Charles and Mark’s interactions have so much more going on behind the scenes. That little look after the 'hit me up' comment 👀👀"

@f1_memes4life: “Mark calling himself a Ken in Barbie was the best part, hands down. But the internet isn't ready for this man’s humor.”

By the time the interview had been live for just an hour, the trending topics were filled with variations of #MarkSpencerShirtless, #WIREDInterview, #F1Chaos, and, of course, #HitMeUpAt8. Fans were losing their minds, and even the other drivers were joining in the fun by commenting on the video, fueling the chaos.

Lando Norris (@lando_norris): "@MarkSpencer I'm free tonight too. Hit me up at 8 😂 #thirdwheel"

Daniel Ricciardo (@daniel_ricciardo): “Ken Spencer? More like Ken’s better-looking brother. #BarbieKing #MarkSpencer”

@WiredOfficial: “Interviewing @MarkSpencer was an experience in itself. Did we expect abs? No. Did we love it? Absolutely.” --- (This phase covers 2 chapters chapter 17 and chapter 18!)

(Dividers by @enchanthings and @anemichorizon2)

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Hellooo I LOVE your writing and was wondering if you could do another part of 'Papier' the story with Joe Goldberg 🥹 Thank you and Have a wonderful day!

Of course!

I’ve since finished the new season entirely and found it just fine. I heard quite a few unfavourable things before going into it, but I actually didn’t feel pulled in that same direction… it wasn’t that bad.

Warnings: power imbalance, Joe being a creep.

My eyes skim the pages, all different, all beginnings, unused introductions that didn't quite make the cut. You're good at this, at writing and adding... but you never quite rid yourself of the past. You tuck it away for later; perhaps a better thought will emerge from stirring the mind with old prose or, maybe, you have a fear of losing things.

I glance over the paper and look at you, sitting on the chaise in front of my desk, in my office, legs crossed and hands resting atop your knee. Your bag is by your feet. I smile and lower the draft.

"These are good," I say. "but you've given me better."

You nearly deflate at my words, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes burn holes into the back of your paper. It's not what you had handed in for your midterm, but it is an older copy for us to look through.

I blink, tucking in my top lip for a moment as I think.

"What's up?" I ask.

Your eyes flick up to mine.

“What?”

I move back and sit on my desk, discarding the papers by my side to give you my full attention.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” I point out.

“I just…” You pinch your lips momentarily, timidly moving your eyes somewhere along my desk. “I feel like I’m moving backwards.”

“Would you like to unpack this feeling?”

“I don’t see how it’ll make a difference.”

At that, I smile.

“Sometimes talking things through can help. What are you worried about?”

You look away for a moment, pensive. You’re thinking of what to say, or perhaps you’re searching for a way to say it.

“Failure.” You admit plainly.

“Do you think you’re failing?” I then ask, and you shift in your seat.

“Yes, and I want to do something about it. Anything.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

After a moment’s silence, I push myself off my desk and take a step to you. Your eyes look up into mine as I approach.

Once your chin lifts, and I’m intimately close to your sitting form, I speak the question I had been dying to ask since your ass sat down in my office.

“Would you like me to give you some options?”

You gulp, the action drawing my eyes for a split moment. I grind my teeth, wondering loosely if this had been how Beck’s professors felt about her.

“What are my options?” You whisp, unsure of what you’re truly asking from me.

My hand rises, and I pretend to catch lint off your shoulder. I flick it away with a broadening smile. My fingers follow the knit of your sweater, then, languidly stroking my way down to your collarbone.

“When I’m not holding a class, I’m frequently in my office. The first option is simple: we meet here, five days a week.”

Your eyes swirl with fear. “I can’t do that, I’m full-time. I don’t have availabilities every day.”

“If the frequency of our sessions is going to be a problem, the other option will have to include longer sessions.”

Watching your face contort uncomfortably as you think over your dilemma has me giddy with excitement.

“Are you alright with studying late?” I ask.

You shift in your seat. No. You’re not okay with it. What will become of the little social life you’ve managed to maintain? The small amount of me-time you’re going to lose?

You nod and my hand finds your shoulder again, giving you a reassuring squeeze as you tense below my fingers.

“I can do nights, but my office can’t stay open past a certain time. I hope you understand that. I’ll gladly accept you into my home, if you’re willing to try. Two nights a week, maybe? How does that sound?”

“What nights?” You ask.

“Tuesday and Thursday.” I respond, watching you closely.

“I can do that.” Your voice is small as you speak, you’ve shrunk. Defeated. You don’t want to accept my terms, but you know you have to.

I pull my hand away, turn, and scratch at my beard with a pleasant hum. My hands ache with the need to touch you, to touch myself, but I reach for pen and paper instead, scribbling down my address.

[qqueenofhades]

Ok, unsolicited rant, I’m sorry in advance. I used to love reading when I was a kid, and read frequently and often. I read a lot and I read books that I wouldn’t be able to understand now, like Anna Karenina when I was 12 (I am a native Russian speaker so it’s not that impressive but still) and a lot of Thomas Mann when I was 17-18.

It’s all gone now. I became extremely picky, but also it seems to be harder for me to understand books now? Like I’ve been trying to read “demons”, “Oliver twist”, “Ulysses” - too hard, and I can’t concentrate and in case of demons there are so many ideas and historical tidbits that I have to sit with Wikipedia and a notebook. And yes, as a kid I would have checked certain things and be able to hold a connection in my memory without a notebook (although I’m not sure if I would have done that with demons in particular, I’m bad at Dostoevsky and hated “crime and punishment”). And it doesn’t matter whether I’m reading in Russian or in English. I almost got it with Arundhati Roy’s “the god of small things”, then there was a very upsetting and triggering scene and I had to put it down.

And if I try to get into something nicer and easier my picky side comes out and I just drop books one after the other. Murderbot diaries and the Locked tomb were the only two books series that captivated me in two years.

Anyway I miss that soothing state of being engrossed with a book. And I so rarely get it now! So I wanted to ask, do you maybe have some advice? I saw your book stack and felt both envy and fear, like I both wanted to read and didn’t. Yikes.

And also, I can still read fic and your fics got me through terrible time and soothed me! So thank you!!!

Aha well. I will say that my current monumental book stack is not technically the norm for me, though I do usually have 3-4 books on the hard-working bedside table and read for several hours every night. Said giant book stack was a confluence of factors (picking up a bunch of holds from the library after asking the people for book recommendations and then going to the bookstore yesterday and hilariously telling myself that I would only get one book max). So it's not like I have ginormous amounts of TBR at all times, and in that giant stack, there are likely to be several books that don't grab me, are not particularly interesting, or technically good and well-written but just not engaging with the Brain Gremlins at this particular point in time. So I will put them down and move onto the next one, and this will keep me from being bogged down, because why read if you're not enjoying it/yourself/the book? It's not a punishment or a character-building ordeal. It's supposed to be fun, and if you're reading things that, as noted in your ask, just aren't grabbing you and feel like a chore, then stop! Find something else that makes the Brain Gremlins go ooooh shiny, regardless of what it is. It doesn't have to be Fine Literature.

I also had to get back into the habit of reading for pleasure, and it took me time and effort to do it due to various external circumstances. From about 2015-19, while I was doing my PhD, I had less than no money and absolutely no spare brainpower, so while I did have a few books that I collected along the way, I barely did any reading for pleasure at all (though I did do a frankly alarming amount of writing, including fic writing). Looking back, that seems insane to me, but it was something that had to change step by step, and it wasn't as if I just finished the PhD and went straight back into pleasure reading. I moved back to the US in 2019 and had a part-time job at a bookstore, which was very dangerous for my minimum-wage paycheck, but it did get me back into the habit of looking at books and reading books and being able to take home advanced-reader copies for free and otherwise start exercising that muscle again. I didn't have a library as an option for quite a while because I was living in a tiny town, then COVID hit, then I moved to another tiny town, where there was at least finally a modest public library at my disposal. But it took time.

Now I live in a city with a great public library where I can get almost anything I want, and I went accordingly hog-wild, but if you don't have readily available reading resources, obviously it's hard to get your hands on stuff that you like and will make the brain gremlins go brrrr. There are some public libraries that offer cards/user privileges even to people who don't live in the geographical area, especially if you are a young adult. Check out Books Unbanned by the Brooklyn, Boston, Seattle, and San Diego (US) libraries, which aims to provide access to ebooks and other digital collection items for young adults facing challenges to access, regardless of where they live. You can get a card up to age 18 from San Diego, age 21 in Brooklyn, and up to 26 for Boston/Seattle.

I also now have a little more disposable income, so I can buy books if I want to, though it's true that I also bought books when I couldn't really afford them (shh). But it's still the fact of my access to a good public library that enables me to have stacks on stacks rotating through the bedside table, and I use it constantly, so there's that. I'm of course very glad to hear that you can still read fic and that you have enjoyed my stuff, but I do also feel that you have to read fic AND books/published writing/stuff that's not fic. So the best way to get back into the habit is by practicing, not forcing yourself into stuff that isn't fun or feels like a slog, and finding a place where you can consistently obtain other stuff that's good for sparking joy. That is not the case for everyone, it will impact what you are able to do, and you should not feel like you have to do some kind of "good" reading model, especially since a lot of people seem to think that what you read is directly representative of your intelligence, moral character, or some other important part of you, and it's not. Humans like stories, the end. We like being given stories, fiction or nonfiction, in a format that we can digest and understand, and we always have. It's that simple.

Basically, I feel like reading for pleasure should indeed be fun, I love reading for pleasure and encourage everyone to do more of it, I now am fortunate to be able to do it extensively, and it has taken work of various kinds to get to that point where I can in fact just set myself up with a ginormous stack and dive in. As noted, however, if any of the books currently on hand are boring or just not doing it for me, I will move onto the next one, because the fun thing is that there are always more. So yes. Go forth and read. Good luck.

[jalbert-james]

i have done something horrific and i need to share it here.

biden/trump fic, sfw

also in ao3. info and fic under the break

My Love, Mine All Mine by amohomines on ao3.

disclaimer: this fic involves drug use. i know this is a crackfic, but i treat this seriously as someone who actively and has struggled with addiction for years. i am not making fun of drug users, but it only felt right to include. i at least tried to write it realistically (to my experience) and respectfully.

without further ado, here’s the fic:

“As long as you carry your own bag.” The phantom of a smile haunted Don’s mind. He knew the conversation Joe was talking about. They crossed paths at an underground club Don frequented. Sitting across a small table, they shared a martini and chatted between sips. Joe recently went on vacation and was telling Don all about it.

“The grass was beautifully green, and the wind was just right. Great place for golfing, you know. You should have seen it.” Don watched the way his hands fiddled with the toothpick at the rim of the glass. The same toothpick he just had between his lips, pulling off the firm olive imposed on it.

“My golf buddies don’t really like to leave town. They say the golf course at home is the best that’s ever been. Can’t really golf by myself, can I?” Don tried to chuckle with that TV smile he kept on, but he had a hard time masking around Joe. They may not talk much, but he always felt vulnerable. His guard was let down, and he knew Joe could read his mind just then. He confirmed it with his next words, words that would be branded to his mind so that he could never see Joe again without thinking about them.

“I don’t mind golfing with you, Donnie.” Joe stood and wrapped his messenger bag around his shoulder. “Just carry your own bag, how’s that?” As Joe stood, he paused just to torture Don with a warm stare. A half smile, a slow fluttering of the eyes, and a wave goodbye later, Don was left at the loneliest table in Washington D.C.. He called his chauffeur and left that club wishing he had drank enough to pass out.

Don was back behind the podium, giving his best smile to the cameras. He didn’t think his smile had faltered, but his heart had definitely skipped a few beats. He gained his composure as the ache in his chest died down. “… as long as you carry your own bag.” He watched Joe’s lips curl around the words. He knew what he was doing to Don. Joe had left him with so little to cherish, and what little he had tortured him in every second of this debate. He was stuck between leaving the debate and going off the grid, and closing the space between the podiums.

-

Joe knew what he was doing to Don. He didn’t want to hurt him, but the indifference between them would kill Joe before his longing ever would. Cold silence was freezing his heart to a stop. He needed something to get him by.

Joe ordered a single drink for them to share on purpose. He purposely let his fingertips linger around the orange stain where Don’s mouth embraced the toothpick that garnished the drink. He purposely scooted in close so that their knees touched, and he purposely didn’t move to get space. He knew, but it was the choice between a small choke and being suffocated to the point of dying. He wanted more.

”I don’t mind golfing with you, Donnie.” He loved to call him that — the secret little nickname that Joe used for him. “Just carry your own bag, how’s that?” Joe reluctantly packed up, though he never wanted to leave. Nothing could make him want to leave. He knew that if he stayed, he couldn’t control himself, especially not with being tipsy, and he couldn’t risk being caught with Don. But oh, how he wanted to get rid of the divider between them: the cameras watching; the societal expectation; the politics; the podiums; and of course, the table dividing them now. Joe had one option, and that was to remove himself from Don’s proximity, though he’d kick himself for it as long as he lived.

Joe got home and drank and drank. He tasted that martini in every sip, drink, chug. It was a good martini, but it was a shared martini: one that both Joe and Don’s lips greeted. He smelled Don’s cologne over the scorching Patrón. He drank anything that could burn Don out of his mind, but he stuck.

He wasn’t proud of it. He knew he would regret it. But he also knew that nothing else could possibly give him the relief he so desperately needed. He reached into the secret compartment under his nightstand and painfully drew out the pipe. Nobody would know. He just needed one hit, and he would be done.

Don would not make it into his dreams that night, because he would not sleep. He would be momentarily wiped from Joe’s memory, and oh, how tranquil those few moments were. But still, Don was left miles away, tasting the same martini and hearing the same voice pierce through him. He was left with no relief.

[headsnhearts]

I'm gonna combust I've met TWO whole dollification enjoyers other than myself today!!! As a hello offering: jleo with puppet master Cleo and their pretty marionette Joe,,, so many potential uses for the armor stand magic book -⚾️ (my mcyt blog is darkoaklogs but I'm too shy to share my main rn)

Welcome welcome~ Always happy to see more dollification fans, since it's so unfairly niche.

As for Joe and Cleo! Good taste for doll kink, I'd say. This one got a bit away from me.

~

Jleo dollification, dom/sub dynamics with dom!Cleo, brat taming, and some references to exhibitionism but it's not a huge focus

Joe is a spirit who's able to possess different objects or bodies as hosts. Cleo normally makes them a human-like body and Joe made the puppet himself, but they have a few special ones in reserve.

One is a life-sized wooden doll, with intricate details carved into the surface and lovingly varnished. It's more an art piece than an actual body that Joe inhabits frequently; the limbs are thin, made delicate by the carving, and the joints are loose, so Joe struggles to hold a proper pose with them. Cleo made it a while ago while trying to find the best non-organic material for a body, but they've never gotten rid of it, for one specific reason.

Cleo likes time to herself to think. Joe also likes Cleo's time to think and will make that their problem at a moment's notice. When that happens, they pull out an armor stand book and set off to put him in his place.

First, she binds them to the wooden doll body. Beautiful but weak—a step shy of being a china doll.

What Cleo does next depends on how forgiving they feel.

Mercy is taking Joe for a walk with the armor stand book and leaving them behind in the shopping district or another hermit's base, unable to keep pace when she leaves. Either another hermit will take pity on the poor lost doll and help them home (or inside for some fun), or a mob will get them and they'll drop out of the body when they respawn, no worse for wear.

But when Cleo really feels like putting Joe into his place?

First is changing the doll's clothes; it's been so long since she's played with her doll, so a fresh outfit is in order. Whether she uses the armor stand book to pose them like a mannequin or simply manhandles him out of his clothes varies. Joe can't resist either way.

Dolls don't have opinions on what they wear, so Cleo picks by herself. Definitely something lacey and impractical that would be hard to move in. And dolls are made to be nice to look at, so the outfits she has are pointedly revealing. Frilly doll dresses with teasing hemlines, heeled boots and thigh-high stockings, even just lingerie—there are options.

And then Cleo takes their doll for a walk. No book this time, just a collar snapped around Joe's neck and a leash. There's a tag on the collar that says "If lost, return to Cleo," with a little heart etched underneath it.

Now her doll better not fall down and mess up those nice clothes unless they want to be punished <3

[darkrpfinders]

Hello there!

(I) About Me

Hello! Thank you for clicking on my post and giving this a read! I am a college student but that doesn't really hurt my availability too much. I am on everyday, even if it is for just an hour or so. I could even send posts multiple posts daily or at minimum, a post every other day. I am someone who loves OOC chatter! I love to make character boards, send music that reminds me of the roleplay, and just gush about what is going on in our story! With that little introduction out of the way, let's move on!

(II) Rules

1. Please only contact me if you are over the age of 18 as I am over 18 myself.

2. Characters used must also be at least 18. If not, they must be aged up.

3. Please be engaged in the discussing process. If you don't show much interest before the roleplay begins, I will believe that you don't have much interest to the roleplay itself.

4. Please write with proper grammar and pronunciation in your posts. I don't mind if that is not shown in regular messages but please come with it for the thread.

5. No one-liners. I personally don't like to write less than 3 full paragraphs and one-liners do not provide me much to work with. However, I do give the option for mini roleplays to go along with our main roleplay to help expand the world. For that, I am perfectly fine with shorter responses like one-liners. I love writing and I figured this would be a fun way to do that and further along the story!

6. Please post consistently. If replies are inconsistent, sadly my interest in the roleplay wavers. I prefer more frequent posts but if you let me know that you only post once a week, or even once a month, that is perfectly fine with me!

7. I prefer to write on discord servers as that allows everything to be more organized BUT if you prefer to write somewhere else, I do not mind writing threads there. However, I do request a place where we could have things be organized.

(I promise I'm not going to be stern when we talk! I'm very easygoing!)

(III) Fandoms

If a character is below the age of 18, they WILL be aged up to at least 18.

Dragonball Z/Super

Who I'm looking for: Android 18, Android 21

Who I can play: OC. Krillin, Vegeta, Goku, Gohan

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Android 18, OC x Android 21, Krillin x Android 18, Vegeta x Android 18

Metroid

Who I'm looking for: Samus

Who I can play: OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Samus

Naruto

Who I'm looking for: Sakura, Ino, Temari

Who I can play: OC, Naruto, Shikamaru, Sasuke, Kakashi, Itachi, Neji

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Sakura, OC x Ino, Naruto x Sakura, Shikamaru x Temari

Pokemon

Who I'm looking for: Cynthia, Protagonist CC/OC

Who I can play: OC, Protagonist CC/OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Cynthia, Protagonist CC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist OC

Stranger Things

Who I'm looking for: Eleven

Who I can play: OC, Hopper, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Jonathan, Steve, Billy, Nancy, Robin

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Eleven, Hopper & Eleven(STRICTLY PLATONIC)

Teen Titans

Who I'm looking for: Starfire(DCAMU)

Who I can play: Nightwing(DCAMU), Batman, Superman, Flash. OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Nightwing x Starfire

The Legend of Zelda (Please have a knowledge of most of the games/story)

Who I'm looking for: Zelda

Who I can play: Link

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Link x Zelda

Yu-Gi-Oh

Who I'm looking for: Akiza, Alexis

Who I can play: OC, Jaden, Chazz, Zane, Yusei

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Akiza, OC x Alexis, Jaden x Alexis, Chazz x Alexis

(IV) ORIGINALS

This is not going to be like the Fandoms section because... well, it's been such a long time since I had done an original plot! For an original plot, I would love to do a modern slice of life! I would also enjoy a medieval setting as well! Particularly with a Knight and a Princess. When it comes to tropes, I don't have specific ones that I'm dying to do. I enjoy most of them but I do enjoy a slow-medium burn. As for genres, as I mentioned before I would love a slice of life but I also like fantasy, action, even horror! There isn't much I'm not open to when it comes to originals!

(V) Goodbye

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read through this! I'm excited to hear from any and all potential partners! If any part of this had interested you, please go ahead and interact with this post! I hope you all have a wonderful day! Happy Writing!

.

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriMo: Confronting Your Fears

There’s a voice in my head. And it’s telling me to stop writing.

It makes me afraid, telling me that my writing is worthless, that there’s no point, that nothing I do matters. That I suck. That I need to check my ego, pretending that I’m any sort of expert in a position to give advice to others. That if I post this then I’ll be opening myself up to attacks by trolls. Why even bother? It says. No one wants to read your ramblings anyway. Why not just keep your ideas in your head? Where it’s safe?

If you’re reading this? It means that once again I’ve beaten the voice back and written anyway.

There’s a lot of names for that voice. Impostor Syndrome, The Critical Voice. The Inner Editor. Writers Block. (Yes, I am including writers block on this list.) The Superconciousness.

And like it or not, we all have a version of it in our heads.

Writers who write often and freely are not magically free of that voice. The only difference is that they (including me— most of the time) have learned how to corral and even shut out that voice.

How? Every writer has a different bag of tricks, but it’s not as simple as using a program that stops you from rewriting, or only writing in sprints. That can be helpful, but treating the symptoms without confronting the problem will eventually lead to failure.

First you have to pay attention to exactly what is that voice in your head whispering to you. (And don’t let it trick you into believing that it’s not like other inner voices, and is actually is helpful, or truthful.)

Everyone’s inner voice is unique, but if you find yourself:

Needing to do just a bit more research before you can start (even though you’ve already accumulated plenty of knowledge on the subject)

Endlessly editing a section (often the opening!) and never moving any further forward

Suddenly bored with a story even though you were excited to write it just a few thousand words ago

Frequently abandoning writing, and having a hard drive full of almost done manuscripts

If you find yourself frequently doing any of those things? Most likely it’s fear stopping you. Fear of what? Again, it’s different for everyone, but here’s some common ones:

What if it’s bad?

What if it’s made fun of?

What if I fail in my vision?

What if I offend someone (reasonably or not) and a twitter mob descends on me with pitchforks and torches?

What if no one wants to read it?

The thing is, on the surface those fears sound very reasonable. If you write something it could be bad, or stupid, or boring, or offensive.

So what should you do in the face of all these risks?

Honestly? There’s really only two options. Quit, or write it anyway.

Me? I’ve decided to face my fears and write anyway. I assume that anyone reading this wants to do that too.

But how?

In the end it comes down to awareness, and permission.

Here’s how it works for me. I get an idea: What if it’s like Leverage, but in SPACE!!!(but in space is a common idea I have lol) I start writing: This is exciting! Writing an ensemble cast is a fun new challenge! And then suddenly I feel like I’ve hit a wall: This sucks. The characters are boring and hackneyed. No one will ever want to read it. How would I even market something like this? Why am I writing this? I should just quit. I have a different idea that’s much better anyway.

Sound familiar?

But ha! It’s familiar to me too. I know those negative thoughts are just the fear voice talking. So I face them: Fears? You might be right. It might be bad. But I’m going to write it anyway.

And I keep repeating that, reminding myself that it’s okay to write something less than perfect, that it’s okay if it’s bad, and that I still want to write this story, until the writing gets fun again. And it does get fun again. For me at least. I’ve had enough practice at this that the fears really only grip me at certain moments. Unfortunately if the fears have a powerful hold on you, you may have to battle them all the way through. Even if that’s the case, every time you beat them, they will get weaker.

And that’s it. It’s three simple steps.

1. Identify your fears, and how they stop you

2. Challenge the negative thoughts, and give yourself permission to write anyway

3. Keep writing

Easy to say, and hard to do! (Of course I’m not a mental health professional, this is simply my experiences. If what you’re dealing with is severe and/or harming you, please seek professional help.)

I'd love to know what you do to confront your fears!

[shadowxamyweek]

Hey I know you don’t like the Archie sonic that much, and that is understandable, but I would implore you to at least read Sonic universe 59-62. It is fucking awesome, and you don’t have to read the rest of Archie to understand what is going on. It made me bow to the king.

Hey @sharkrad08222222! I didn't forget this ask, I just needed a day off to sit down and read XD

Honstly, I'm glad you sent this in. You're right- I'm not the biggest fan of Archie, but I've got to give credit where credit is due- Shadow Fall is a lot of fun. If anyone else would like to read it, you should check out this Applebees gift card. ( @biolizardboils I'm never gonna get over that joke XD)

So anyway, here's Shadow Fall

As an aside, I'm really glad that many of the original Archie Sonic crew were able to move over to jobs at IDW and stay on Sonic. I cannot imagine the horror of watching that whole... everything... happen. As someone who has been in a similar (abet still different) position within my own field, it's a genuine nightmare. Furthermore, the fact that many who made that move from Archie to IDW are still there, and that we haven't heard any ill-will from those who have since left/retired- maybe it's the optimist in me, but I want to believe that everyone's doing okay at IDW, and that's good.

Anyway, you didn't ask, but I decided to kinda make this *a thing.* So many people, myself included, sometimes squint at Archie/IDW and go eeeeeeeeh a lot. That does the entire story a disservice though. There's so much fun in these comics. Better yet, you can feel when the comic team is having fun, too. There's moments where the dialog or the art is just immaculate and you can tell that people were really excited about these parts. It's a joy to see.

So, I'm gonna talk about some of the joys I saw in this, or things I just really liked and kinda would like to see again.

1- Shadow and Team Dark's relation to G.U.N.

I like this. I like this a lot. I like Shadow not being afraid to be a snarky bitch, I like the fact that Shadow doesn't really enjoy working with G.U.N, I like the fact that G.U.N doesn't trust Shadow let alone the rest of Team Dark really. It's an alliance by necessity. Each member of Team Dark stays together because they WANT to stay together, but they only stay with G.U.N because, for one reason or another, they have deemed that their best possible option for now. There's a palpable tension that has a lot of history and can still be used in really fun ways like this. I deeply enjoy it.

Speaking of Team Dark-!

2- We Love a Bunch of Freaks

You're honor, that's a family. I love the dynamics. I love the trust and camaraderie and banter. I love the way they rely on one another and make sure to be there for one another. They took what is visible in the games and cranked it up to a 12, but it feels natural, especially when you take into consideration just how LONG these comics had gone on for. I talk about the history between Team Dark and G.U.N, but there is a history between Shadow, Rouge, and Omega as individual people too, let alone being a team under the thumb of a military force.

This is love right here, and I love it.

3- I Missed the Critter Smiling

Shadow smiles... so much in Archie. I love it. And for those of you who are confused and might think this is out of character, I point again to SA2. He smiles rather frequently in that game, even if it's a smile that says 'oh I'm going to enjoy beating your ass.' He also smiles a bit in Heros, Battle, Rivals, and SHtH05, though not as much.

4- The Art, Story, and OCs are Fun

The art is FUN! That first set of panels in particular- I love that. What a clever way to set that up! That's what I mean by you can feel that people were enjoying themselves working on this! Plus, this comic doesn't shy away from horror. I know we got that (beautifully done I might ad) in the Zombot arc, Scrapnik Island spinoff, and Dr. Starline with Surge and Kit. Like, whoever liked horror and had the inspiration for this stuff at Archie either made the transfer to IDW or heavily influenced some of the people on that team, because it's the same vibe. It's a classic, timeless sort of horror that I enjoy most, and it's very palpable here.

As an aside, they did a REALLY good job of making you like these new characters off the drop. I'm not saying I don't like the OCs of IDW (although I don't like Lanolin and, frankly, I don't think I'm SUPPOSE to like Lanolin. She's that perfect example of wanting more to be right than she does to help and I LOVE THAT because you get those people even in the best of causes but anyway). Eclipse though? As soon as that freak showed up on page and I read what he was saying, I loved the little gremlin. You feel for him, and for the Black Arms, which is excellent. They are still CLEARLY the bad guys- they don't HAVE to eat people, they CHOOSE to- but like... damn- you wish there was a way to make things right, and when you watch it all fall apart, you grieve a little. I'm sure if I read more of Archie I'd find more OC's I was meh about but it's just something I was thinking about as I kept going back and looking at Eclipse's body language and facial expressions. Like- look at this bugger-

He lobbied on Shadow's behalf for Black Death to NOT kill him because he so desperately wanted a 'big brother' who could join his 'family' and meet all the new babies and everything. He wanted so badly for Shadow to like him and like being with the Black Arms and make a new life and lkajsdfl;jasd augh....

5- Shadow feels like Shadow

Oh fuck yes.

Mind you, there are other times in Archie where the characters DON'T feel like a natural progression of their game counterparts. I've seen and read moments where Archie Shadow feels very... wrong... but in this? You're 100% right. They are VERY themself in this and it's a treat, a little hard candy for the soul to suck on. I am delighted.

6- It's The Little Things

Maybe it's just because I get the volumes and not the individual comics, but I don't see the fanart submissions or the Q&As. You use to find those sorts of things in all kinds of publications. I remember when I was getting my first game magazines in the mail, there would be stuff like that. It was always fun to page through.

I would adore if they brought those back, but I can also see why they wouldn't. While I think the fandom has gotten much more relaxed in some ways, in others, it's still nutty and weird and, frankly, a little terrible sometimes, but maybe that's just all fandoms. I dunno.

Anyway, it was nice to see that sort of stuff again. I missed it <3

So yeah, this was a lot of fun to read

Thanks again for the recommendation. I deeply enjoyed it.

It's wild too, because there are so many people who are now a part of Sonic's comic history that I remember on here just... goofing off. @bumblekast's Ian Flynn went from working as a writer at Archie to being a head writer at IDW, but I remember reading random posts of theirs online. @chibijenhen and @spiritsonic I remember being on Deviantart and following them. I remember finding bits and pieces of @tysonhesse's work online. I just, all these people, kinda showing me that, if I wanted, I could give a shot at tossing my hat into that ring, too. I ended up going a different way career wise, but now, I'm seeing all these awesome people AGAIN in an online space I'm in and going, 'You know... maybe I can try this for real.'

I don't know. It's just... it's been giving me a lot of hope, and hope is nice, especially when you're stubborn enough to foster it and give it reason to grow.

Maybe one day, that'll be my name in the credits, if I work hard and I'm lucky.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, yeah? <3

[danses-with-dogmeat]

🦀👑 'was that your first kiss?' for Danse please 🥺

You are a GENIUS

I love this so much, I actually can't--

Thanks so much for giving me an excuse to write this 😅

I hope you love it!

"Here. I wanted you to have this."

Danse's voice was low as he reached towards you, a parcel in his hands that he'd produced from behind his back. It was a medium-sized box, carefully wrapped in newspaper, with a tidy silver bow on top. You grinned at him as you took the gift from his tentative grasp.

A blush was slowly spreading across the ex-paladin's cheeks, but you tried not to make it obvious that you'd noticed this evidence of his nerves.

"T-thank you, Danse, but... What is this for, exactly?"

You'd only come home from a minuteman assignment, only been gone a little over an afternoon. It wasn't your birthday, or any other significant holiday, as far as you knew.

"Well, I... It's just a 'thank you,' of sorts, I suppose." One hand went up to scratch at the back of his neck as Danse's eyes refused to meet your own. "I wasn't sure how to repay you-- if I ever even could, for everything that you've done for me all this time. This was just a way, I thought, to let you know how much I appreciate it all."

Your smile only broadened at his words, but still, you didn't move to open it quite yet.

"I don't need you to say thank you," You told him gently, "I would've helped you. No matter what, I hope you know that."

Danse swallowed hard, his dark eyebrows knitting together over his downturned gaze.

"But still," You continued, moving a hand to lightly touch his forearm, "I do appreciate it."

He stiffened a bit at the contact, but nodded in understanding and didn't pull away completely.

"Now, come here. Might as well make ourselves comfortable instead of just standing here in the doorway." Your hand slid down to grasp with his gingerly as you pulled him to the living room couch to take a seat, setting the giftbox onto the worn coffee table in front of you.

"Alrighty, here we go." Your fingers twiddled with excitement as you removed the paper from the box with as much care as you could muster. You didn't want to ruin his perfect little wrapping-job, after all.

You could swear Danse held his breath the whole while, even as you pried open the edges of the carboard box within, and pulled out the... piece of metal?

"I... I love this, Danse, I really do." You said slowly as you turned the thing around in your hands, your gaze studious as you examined the strange item. "I just..."

You were at a loss.

"Um... what is it?"

When you turned to him, Danse's eyes were wide.

He swallowed hard again, and cleared his throat before answering.

"It's a... a modification. For Righteous Authority. I noticed that you still tend to use the weapon quite frequently, but that you hadn't made any changes to it over the time it's been in your possession." His fingers began to fidget as his eyes wandered to and fro, still avoiding your own like they'd set him ablaze if he looked too long. "And... I also noticed that you tend to use it as more of a ranged weapon than I did when I modified it for myself, so... in your hands is a fine-tuned beam focuser, which allows for better range without sacrificing accuracy and keeping recoil relatively mild."

You blinked at him as Danse reached forward for the box.

"A-and still inside is an overcharged capacitor. Which will give you much greater power and ammo capacity. I can install them later, but... I wanted to surprise you while not leaving you unarmed."

"Wow, this is... I really do love it, Danse. You know what I need more than I do." You chuckled as your fingers pressed over the shiny, cool metal, admiring the way it shone in the dim light of the room.

"Well... The same could be said about me." Danse said quietly, "When you helped me through... well, everything. When I'd thought of every option, or believed I'd considered every course of action that was possible, and then you showed up, and... You changed everything. Made the impossible, possible. You saved my... My life." His voice began faltering slightly by the end of it as he continued looking down between the two of you, his gaze resting on the couch cushions below.

"This was a small token of gratitude to say the least, but... It's what I could offer. I just hope that it's enough to express how grateful I am. How much you... you mean to me."

Slowly, you set down the... capacitor? Or was it the focuser? Either way, you set down the specialized piece of laser rifle modification back onto the table, freeing your hands as you turned on the couch to better face your companion.

You waited until his gaze finally tore away from the couch, and slowly, jerkily, made its way up to meet yours as he took in your movement; and then reached out your arms and steadily moved forward to pull him into a tight embrace.

All movement from the ex-paladin ceased as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. It was like hugging a warm statue, with how stiff and still he was throughout, and yet, he made no move to pull away.

A moment passed, and briefly the thought of releasing him passed through your mind, but just as the consideration entered your consciousness, Danse's hands raised to return the tender gesture, and you felt him release a breath, relaxing into your contact as his fingers tightened over your back and shoulder.

"You mean a lot to me too, Danse." You whispered to him through the hug.

"You have for a long time, and... I know this has all been difficult-- beyond difficult, since everything happened, but I want you to know how strong you've been. It's... been an inspiration to me, and to Haylen, and Preston, and countless others."

He released another deep breath, this one shakier than the last, as he clung to you even more tightly.

"And I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here. That you made it through all of that, that you stayed in the Commonwealth... Stayed with me. I know it can't be easy..."

"You... you make it easier." Danse said back, his voice barely more than a breath. "Sole, truly, I could have never made it out of this alive if it weren't for you."

He pulled away now, carefully unwinding his arms from around you, but allowing his fingers to drag lightly over your skin as he sat back to look you in the eye.

His own were almost glossy with emotion, and you felt something in your chest jump at his expression. At the affection you found there, the appreciation, the...

Am I just seeing things?

You blinked, but when your eyes opened again, that emotion was still there, strong as ever.

It was the way Nate/Nora had looked at you so often, the way your family looked at you when you returned home, the way your own eyes appeared when looking down at a peacefully sleeping Shaun.

At least, you could swear, you saw love in his expression.

And god... did that mean... could he see it in yours? It must have been there. You'd been in love with the man long enough to know he should be able to see it, but as tactically perceptive as Danse was, emotions weren't always his specialty.

Without a second consideration from the sane part of your mind, you leant forward, closing your eyes as your hand fell to his wrist, and as your lips touched his.

Danse's pulse was racing beneath the touch of your fingers, and just as had been true with the hug, he was still as stone as you pushed further into the kiss, the softness of your lips a stark contrast to the firmness of his own. Like a gentle wave meeting a rocky shoreline, slowly, the feeling seeped through the cracks and sunk into him, and Danse finally reciprocated. He tilted his head opposite yours, experimenting almost awkwardly, still with stiff lips and a clumsy movement of his hand reaching up to hold the base of your neck mechanically. You allowed his touch to pull you in further though, your lips kneading against his, coaxing the rigidness out of them as best you could, in an attempt to communicate every feeling that had just passed through you, and trying to get him to do the same. All of this whilst earnestly hoping that you hadn't misread things between the two of you.

Your head jolted in surprise, as you heard a soft sigh escape Danse's throat, something heating deep within you at the pleasured sound.

Then, just as soon as you began it, Danse ended the kiss, pulling back swiftly as he regained himself.

Your eyes blinked open, an apology ready and waiting on your tongue, before it was swept away by the shear redness of your companion's face. His blush would've put a tato to shame, and the wideness of his amber eyes resembled that of a pair of melons. Now, it was all you could do to keep from laughing at the absurd look.

"Is everything okay? I... I mean, was that alright?" You managed to ask without too much levity in your voice.

Danse was petrified, his mouth still partially open as his eyes stared at some nothingness, far in the distance.

"Danse?" You tried, and some semblance of the ex-paladin seemed to return to him at the sound of his name.

"I, ah... ahem." He shook his head, almost comically, before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time since the start of this talk of yours.

"What... did we?" He began, but never quite finished the question, just looked at you in confusion.

"I kissed you, yeah." Now it was your turn to blush, as your eyes failed to meet his. "I'm sorry if that wasn't what you were expecting, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just..."

"No!" He said too quickly, too loudly, cringing instantly as he realized the way the word had left him. "No. It didn't. I was a little surprised, yes, and maybe reacted differently than I would've like to, but... It's only because, well... I've never really... um..."

He trailed off, and suddenly a light clicked in your mind.

"Wait, Danse... was that your first kiss?"

His eyes widened again, the flushed look of his cheeks that had began to slowly vanish redoubled in their efforts to turn the whole of his face that deep crimson once more.

"I-I-- Well..."

You smiled at him, feeling relief on your end that any perceived awkwardness on his part perhaps merely came from inexperience, and not from the possibility that he hadn't wanted to kiss you at all.

"It's okay, it's... I shouldn't have asked it like that, I'm sorry."

He seemed to relax a little at that.

"And I shouldn't have done it so abruptly, I just... I've been holding onto my feelings for you for so long, and I just couldn't seem to bottle them up any--"

"Y-your feelings for me?" Danse interrupted, but his voice stayed soft, non-accusatory, more... curious. "But how... With everything you know about me, about who-- what I am, how could you still..."

"Love you?" You finished for him.

Danse's eyes widened again, almost as if he was just realizing exactly what you were getting at.

As if you hadn't been trying to communicate it for weeks leading up to this.

You shook your head slightly, an evidence of your own disbelief, and smiled at him.

"With everything I know about you, Danse, how could I not?"

[lotusmi]

how to manifest with states specifically for the void state (if there are any mistakes or misinformation please correct them 💕)

States depend on how often you go back to them not how long you stay there for.

Simply knowing and accepting that you always wake up in the void is enough. If you are having problems with accepting your desire you can use methods which are optional such as affirming, visualizing, scripting etc.... note affirming once is okay 💜 you don't have to keep repeating it if you don't want to! You're still going to be in the wish fulfilled if you affirm it once or a hundred times it doesn't matter about how much you affirm it matter about how frequently you go back to that state.

Feelings such as feeling euphoric may not occur and that's okay you're still in the wish fulfilled state as long as you accept your desire and claim it as yours. And fulfill yourself in imagination visualising is not the only way to fulfill yourself. Methods such as affirming can also help this process. Give your desire to yourself in imagination give it to your inner man set yourself free. Feeling = knowing and accepting your desire.

States are easy to change as we are just I AM we can change states through intention for example I'm in the wish fulfilled it's done .. and boom you set the intention and now you're in the wish fulfilled. Negative thoughts are usually indicators that you have fell out of your state.

So to use states for waking up in the void is basically just knowing you can wake up in the void since affirming is my fave method. Whenever I think about the void I affirm I always wake up in the void aware it's done I'm in the wish fulfilled. I affirm once then move on with my day. Note there is no set time on how long it takes for your state to become your dwelling state. Just keep coming back to your state.

My favourite method to make my state my dwelling state is every hour I will affirm (or any other method like subs ) as much as I want it can be once also. And if I have time I will try and conjure the feeling. If I don't I just affirm that I already have it. It's like the 10 minute method where every hr for 10 mins you can do anything like affirming or vaunitng for your desire.

I like to SATS or the lullaby method at night. Sometime I do SATS one day and the next day I do the lullaby method. In SATS I visualise in words basically I "hear" myself talking to my friend about how I woke up in the void. And for lullaby I affirm that I always wake up in the void aware. These methods work fast for me as before bed you're most likely feeling sleepy or tired and at that time your subconscious is more open. Also when you wake up... when I wake up I usually vant or affirm.

Ending note.... you got this persist in the new story set yourself free imagination/4D is the only reality give yourself/your inner man your desire fulfill yourself and know/accept that you have your desire already. Don't identify with doubts and dismiss the 3d stay firm. ❤

p.s if there any spelling or grammar mistakes please ignore I wrote this at like 3 -4 AM in the morning. 💀

Great job :)