#or maybe thats my anxiety

[weirdraccoon]

Ominis: What's wrong with you two!? Don't you have a conscience?

Sebastian: Yes, I do!

MC: What's that?

Sebastian *frowning*: It's the little voice that tell us if what we're about to do will kill us or not.

Ominis: It's supposed to tell us whether something's right or wrong!

MC: Ooohh~ And you listen to this voice?

Ominis *flatly*: Clearly.

Sebastian *shrugging*: Sometimes. It's rather easy to ignore.

MC: Hum. I've never heard of this voice. And you know? In the muggle world it's not healthy to hear voices. Maybe we should go and get you checked. My old psychiatrist was fun.

*after explaining what a psychiatrist is*

Ominis: I'm really not surprised you had one.

Sebastian: Wait. That means I can turn off the voice!

[k1tty5]

day 6: burn

[3-aem]

thinking about touch starved touch sensitive gojo again. Absolutely desperate for even the most grazing touches from getou and yet overwhelmed by it all.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠…𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛. ~

💙👻🩵👻💙👻🩵

(𝙰𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚝 𝙶𝚋𝚘𝚢𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾 𝚘𝚗 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝𝙰𝚛𝚝)

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟷𝟸: 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 💗)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟼𝟷𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢🩵

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕…𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 (𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’𝚜) 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘…𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 ☺️🫶🏾!!

𝙸.𝙸. (𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾): 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎 = 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗, 𝙼𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚑𝚎𝚖 = 𝙻𝚎𝚘!!!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢😙🩷🙌🏾˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Yeesh…you have a deeper Raph chasm than Raph himself…” The red eared slider lightly joked as he caught a glimpse of his smaller counterpart. 

The younger counterpart in question didn’t even seem…remotely phased by the remark, looking over the city of NYC like it was going to be his last time doing so. 

But the smaller turtle felt like he was being slightly watched…(which, he in fact was) he then looked up and locked eyes with his older counterpart. “…Huh? W-Were you talking to me?”

“Nope. I was just talking to my imaginary friend Mr. Snoozle— of course I was talking to you.” Leon said sarcastically, raising an eye ridge at the other teen. 

Leo blushed slightly at the elder’s sarcasm, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Sorry…I-I was spacing out…I do that a lot.”

“Yeah…no kidding. I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes and all I’ve gotten from you were six 'mhm’s', three 'yup’s' and seven 'dang that’s crazy's'.” The older one snorted, “If I didn’t know any better, it seems like you don’t wanna talk to me.”

“No! I-It’s not that!” The smaller turtle immediately protested, fiddling nervously with his fingers as he gazed at the streets of NYC once more. 

Which…was really the only thing he could do right at this moment. 

Besides…the city always looked so…pretty in the evenings. 

Well, if there wasn’t crime happening…

…Which was, like, a good 40-50% of the time but still.

“So…what is it, then? Why did you take me to a random rooftop in the smack middle of NY? 'Cuz, no offense…but I was having a nice first place winning streak in Fashion Famous before all of this.” The taller turtle said.

The honey brown teen raised a doubtful brow, “…You play Fashion Famous?”

“Psh…who doesn’t?” Leon scoffed, “But that’s a question worth discussing for another day…” He said as he leaned his shell against the rooftop guardrail as he looked up at the afternoon soon to turn to evening sky, “So tell me..what’s going on, dude?”

“…I…I needed to talk to you…” Leo mumbled. 

“I…can see that.” The elder giggled, “But, what did you wanna talk about?”

The younger fiddled with his fingers nervously again, picking at his thumb’s hang nail slightly as he avoided the other’s gaze entirely now, “…How…H-How do I become a good leader…?” 

Leon blinked in confusion, darting his eyes around the rooftop looking for someone else before letting out a humorless laugh, “Uhuh…whahahat?”

“I-I said…how do I become a good leader…?” Leo repeated, a bit quieter this time.

“…You’re asking me that?” The slider asked incrediously.

“Yes…!” Leo emphasized, getting off of the rail to look at the taller turtle, “How do I—”

“U-Uh…this is…flattering and all, b-but I reheally think you should talk to my Raph about…that.” The red eared slider interrupted, rubbing his arm anxiously and tensing up a bit as the other mutant looked at him with confusion and distraught.

“What? Why!?” Leo asked, getting up from the ledge to look fully at his older counterpart.

“Well, I’m not the oldest turtle in the family like you. I’m the second youngest. Raphalla has more experience, more wisdom and aaaaall that good stuff.” The lime green eyed turtle said as he grimaced awkwardly, picking at a hangnail as well.

Great minds think alike, I suppose…

The honey brown eyed mutant blinked, “I…so? Your still the leader of your team—“

“Welp…this conversation has been fun but I gotta go—”

“But—”

“I have a toooooon of stuff to do now that I think about it…”

“B-But I—”

“And besides, I’m sure your leadership skills aren’t as bad as you think they are—”

“PLEASE!!” The younger shouted as the older tried to leave, making the other flinch slightly at the sudden and random yell, “…Please. J-Just a small piece of advice! A-A hint…! Anything!” 

The taller mutant sighed inwardly, turning around as he crossed his arms— not in a malicious way…but it was really the only form of body langauge he could do at the moment other than picking more at his skin…

…Which, he promised Donnie he would try to stop doing…

“…Why do you want my input so bad…?” The lime green eyed teen asked, mentally cringing at how weak and fragile he sounded.

“I…I don’t know.” The younger mumbled quietly as he sat down against the ledge on the building, hugging his knees to his chest, “I just…figured you would know some stuff…”

“Some…stuff?” The other pressed.

Leo rolled his eyes, “You know what I’m taking about; being a good leader and all that shit!” 

“Pfft— HAH! Trust me, dude…I’m just as lost as you are with this whole 'being a good leader' thing.” Leon chuckled, sitting down next to his counterpart.

“…What are you talking about?” 

“I just became a leader, like…two-ish weeks ago? I dunno…the past weeks have been a complete blur.” The red eared slider explained, holding in an amused snort as he saw how genuinely shocked the other turtle was by his new lore drop. 

“My Raph was originally the leader of the team but after my family defeated the Shredder…my Dad was just all like: 'Blue, you’re the new leader now' and the rest was history…” 

“…Just like that?” The honey brown eyed teenager asked in pure surprise. 

“Just like that.” Leon confirmed. 

“Well, fuck me, then…” The smaller teen grumbled in defeat, burying his face in his knees as the other let out the amused snort he’s been holding in, “I’m good, thanks.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” The younger grumbled at the older’s immaturity. 

…He needs to make a mental note to himself to never let his own Mikey and Leon be in the same room with one another…

“I personally think you have nothing to worry about, though. You seem like you’re doing a pretty good job—” Leon tried to say. 

“But I’m not!” Leo exclaimed as he interrupted the older, mentally punching himself for making a loud outburst again, “I-I’m…not…”

“My brother’s don’t listen to me.” The smaller teen explained, his voice either demonstrating frustration or self-depreciation…

…Leon couldn’t tell.

“They always assume I want to be bossy or I want to be controlling but in reality I just wanna protect them!” The honey brown eyed turtle seethed, “I-I just want to be there for them a-and help!!! I knowthat we’re all the same age and I guess it seems like I’m babying them but I kinda have to because they aren’t responsible! They wouldn’t know responsibility if it walked up to them and punched them straight in the face!!”

The lime green eyed mutant rubbed his arm, tapping his fingers on his knees to try and calm himself down; getting overwhelmed was not a good look on him. 

Plus, it clashed with his autumn shade. 

“…Just, uh…trust yourself…?” The elder tried. 

“But I don’t!” The younger shouted, “I’ve tried and tried and tried to lead but they just. don’t. listen! I-I can’t lead people who don’t want to be lead!” 

“…Your Dad picked you to be the leader for a reason—”

“Well I don’t even know what that damn reason is! ” Leo seethed, burying his face into his arms, “My brother’s want Raph to lead…they don’t want…me. They want someone collective and strong and dependent as their leader; someone who they can be relient on…s-someone who they can trust…”

The smaller mutant let out a wet scoff, looking to the side of himself, “…I’m none of those things…” 

Almost on cue to the emotional moment, Leon slapped his younger counterpart upside on the head…hard. 

Leo let out a small squawk, rubbing the back of his head as he glared at the other. 

“What the freaking hell was that for?!” Leo seethed. 

“For saying a bunch of dumb shit!” The older seethed back, “Y'know that’s my job, right?” He said as he crossed his arms, glancing straight ahead as he saw the sun peeking out from behind a building….

…It was honestly giving the Attack on Titan intro and Leo wasn’t complaining one bit.

“Look…I’m not going to lie to you; being the leader isn’t easy.” The lime green eyed teen exclaimed knowingly. 

“Gee, I wonder what gave you that idea.” The other grumbled under his breath. 

“Just let me cook!”

“Well, right now you’re burning.”

Leon just rolled his eyes at the smaller’s sassy remark, continuing, “I get it, okay…? Being the leader is…challenging. Especially when you know the people your supposed to be leading don’t…want your leadership— or at the very least aren’t used to it.”

The lime green eyed teenager got up, brushing his legs off as he looked over the building’s rail, seeming like he was…trying to remember something, “It’s…a lot. Your still a kid but you’re literally forced to manage all of these responsibilities and high expectations everyone has for you…”

The older sighed, playing with his mask tails as he glanced at the ground, wishing it had an answer to his and Leo’s predicament, “A-And you don’t…you don’t know what those expectations are…” 

The taller mutant sighed, looking back at his younger counterpart, “But you just…gotta keep going…y’know? Your Dad picked you to be leader for a reason, I’m sure.” Leon assured. 

“But my brother’s—”

“'Want Raph?'” The red eared slider said, “Wehell, you aren’t Raph, now are you?”

“…no.”

“Exactly. So stop trying to compare. You’re Leonardo. Lead how Leonardo would lead.” The elder smiled softly.

God, he sounded so freaking…wise right now!!!

“But…I don’t know how Leonardo leads…that’s why I’m asking you…!!” The younger said. 

Leon snorted, “You gotta figure it out, then! Only you can determine how Leonardo leads. Yes…we’re both Leo’s in a sense but we’re different people…you feel me?”

“I…I-I feel you.” The honey brown eyed teen nodded slightly, “I just…I just don’t wanna mess anything up, I guess…”

“Hate to break it to you…but you 100% will. That’s the great thing about being, well…you. I don’t need to be an alternate version of you to know you fuck things up constantly.” The older Leonardo joked lightly, his soft smile turning to a smug grin as he saw how appalled his younger self got at the comment. 

“And you’re going to fuck up a lot of things when you’re leading your brothers…I’d be lying if I said you wouldn’t. But…overtime you’ll get better…you won’t be perfect…but you’ll get better.” The elder announced, looking over his shoulder to lock eye’s with Leo, “And sooner or later your younger brother’s will learn to trust you to lead them…but you have to trust yourself first.” 

Leo’s eyes widened slightly, looking back at his older self with nothing but…respect and compassionnow. 

His advice actually made…sense. Which is an actual shock because all the things he usually says is just plain old gibberish. 

“So, you gonna pay me?” Leon asked as he sat back down. 

“Huh?” The younger said as he tilted his head in confusion. 

“I said: Are you gonna pay me?” The older asked again, “Advice doesn’t come for free, y'know.” And in a result to the random question and statement, Leo scratched the side of his head, glancing away nervously, “I mean…I have some Jolly Rancher wrappers in my pocket if you’d like that.” 

The older Leonardo raised an unamused brow, biting back a genuine smile at the younger’s attempted transaction. 

“…I’ll…take that as a maybe…?” The shorter mutant quietly guessed. 

“I’ll pass…but I appreciate the offer.” The red eared slider laughed, wrapping his younger counterpart in a hug as he rested his hand on his side, squeezing it comfortingly, “With you and me as our brother’s leaders…there’s absolutely nothing we can’t solve!” 

The older mutant faltered, scratching his chin in sudden realization, “Besides girls…I still haven’t decoded them yet.” 

Leo randomly let out a laugh at the joke, shaking his head as a couple snorts and squeals followed. 

The older Leo raised an amused brow, chuckling lightly at the other’s giggle fit, “Ohoookay…it was never that fuhunny.” 

“Ihi nehehever sahaid ihat— snrt! Yohour hahahand!!!” The younger Leonardo squeaked, holding the other’s wrists loosely. “Oh.” The lime green eyed teenager hummed, his amused eyeridge raise now becoming…smug, “You don’t happen to be…ticklish, do you?” 

The smaller mutant gulped as his counterpart muttered out…the word; and so casually too?!

“N-Noho! N-Nohoh I’m nohot!” The honey brown eyed turtle squeaked out despretley, letting out a city-wide squeal as Leon pinched his hips with his free hand whilst still trapping/wrapping him in a hug. “Really? Well, last I checked, people who 'aren’t ticklish' don’t usually squeal when their hips are squeezed, bud.”  

“Ihihat’s— snrt! Juhuhust stahap!!” 

“If my memory serves me correctly, you said you 'weren’t ticklish', right?” The elder said as he wiggled his free hand near the other’s stomach. 

Which, in fact, was enough to keep the other boy completely howling with laughter. 

Leo screamed, twisting and turning to try and steer away from the tortuous fingers, “N-NohO nohOHO snrt WAHAIT-!!!” 

“Soooo…you obviously don’t mind this, right?” Leon smirked as he used his left hand to scribble around the smaller turtle’s tummy while his right hand wrapped around his shell and tickled his underarm. “IHI MIHIHIND! IHI snrt MIHIHIND snrt AHA LAHAHAT!” The younger mutant squeaked out in panic, flailing and shouting about. 

“But why~? You’re obviously not ticklish.” The red eared slider shrugged casually. 

“IHI SNRT SNRT AHAM!!” The smaller mutant suddenly confessed, pushing on the taller’s chest, “IHI AHAM SNRT  IHIHI AHAM SNRT SNRT IHI SNRT AHAHAM!!” 

“Oh! So…you lied to me?” The older mutant questioned as he clamped Leo’s thigh repetitively.

The complete audacity of this kid…

It was impressive, honestly…

Leo hiccuped, burying his head in the elder’s shoulder, “NOHO! IHI— snrt! GYAHAHA PLEHEHEASE!!” 

“Noho! You lied to me, you little twerp! Ugh…the betrayal! And here I thought we were having a nice little bonding moment!” The red eared slider cried dramatically as he stuffed his hands in Leo’s underarms.

The younger Leonardo loudly squawked, snorting up a storm as the elder continued to relentlessly tickle him to pieces, “L-LEHEEEEEEEHEON!!”

“Hm~? Yeah~? What is it, bud?”

“PLEHEHEASE!! NAHAT SNRT SNRT THAHAT!!!” The honey brown eyed mutant squealed, his yell bouncing off the walls of the buildings of New York. “Why~? Is it your tickle spot~? Your tickle tickletickle spot~? 'Cuz your tickle tickle ticklish~?”

“SHUHUT UHUHUP!!” The smaller turtle howled as Leon scribbled his nails along the other’s plastron patterns, “OHO MY GAHASH YOHOUR SOOHOH MEAN!!!”

“Mean?” The lime green eyed teenager repeated innocently, “I’m not mean~! I’m just asking you a couple questions.” 

“I-IHIHI CAHANT SNRT SNRT SNRT BREATHE!!” 

“That sounds like a yohou problem, but hey! That’s just me…” 

“OKAHAY!!!” The younger wheezed, happy tears pricking out of his eyes; awaiting to fall, “STOHOP! STOHOHAP!!” 

“Stopping stopping…” The elder teenager giggled, doing as he promised and stopping. He wrapped his younger counterpart in a hug, letting the shorter turtle snort and snicker in his shoulder once more, “You got this…okay?” He assured. 

“W-Whahat…? Whahat snrt snrt doohoo I snrt hahahave??” Leo questioned through his giddy laughs which Leon couldn’t help but huff fondly to, “The…Thehe leading thing, dude. You got it, okay? Just remember what I said and you’ll be fine.” 

“I dohon’t eheheven remember whahat yohou said toohoo beehee honest..” 

“I can tickle you again to help you remember—“

“N-NONOHO IHIHI’M GOOD!” Leo emphasized, hugging his middles and burying his head into Leon’s shoulder deeper. The elder just hugged him tighter, resting his cheek on the top of the younger’s head.

The two didn’t know a thing when it came to leading…

But they were going to try…they were going to try leading…

…Because that’s really all anyone could ask for…

Their best. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[kiisuuumii]

@kiisuuumii (doomsday)

[maypersonne]

Shang Qinghua really does think that he is unlovable huh

He really thinks that he is of no value to anyone if he isn't making himself useful he will be disposed off and that will be it

He genuinely believes no would ever want him so he manipulate and posture as a lesser so to be seen as a necessary annoyance rather than the pest he believes himself to be

He hates all the work he has to do but he prefers exhaustion to the paranoia and anxiety that eat him up when he isn't showcasing his value

He is in a constant battle just to be acceptable rather than loved so he can just be in the presence of those who are dear to him

Like damn like father like son I can see where binghe got all his issues like airplane bro stop unloading it all on your OCs look you gave the poor dear anxiety

[bacchuschucklefuck]

riz gukgak is SO distressing to have as a favourite character I can never funckign rest out here

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive never liked powerless saiki aus because the entire conclusion of the series is him accepting his powers as being a part of him that he cant change so like.. in aus where the power remover works, half of his development is erased..

if he had been "powerless" for longer, we wouldve gotten to see him realize this himself and im genuinely sad that we didnt.. we got to see him realize that being powerless wasnt the change he wished it would be and that its something he cant change, but its literally over a two day long period and we miss out on sooo much potential development..

and then in aus where hes born powerless, people think he would have the exact personality and development that he THOUGHT he would if he got rid of/didnt have his powers, like NO ? "without powers he would be another satou-" NO he would be a shy, borderline flamboyant, weird, awkward, genius LOSER.

he would have a more normal relationship with his brother (still probably competitive but in a way more average sibling way and kusuke wouldnt have had the motivation to become so murderous) and he would probably be even more friendless but with less trauma.. he may or may not have ever befriended akechi at all, and the classroom incident wouldnt have happened.. even some of his current friends might not be around if not for coincidences due to his powers or direct involvement from his powers.. (nendo and kaido would for sure still be there though, but this only ensures the idea that he would be the biggest fcking loser ever)

he would still be saiki, but. his powers are a key part of him. he would be totally different without them, but NOT in the way he thinks he would..

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

[scificrows]

Is there a 300 page essay about Murderbot's armor (specifically the opaque helmet) as a not-so-subtle metaphor for masking in a clearly neurodivergent character already? Because I need it.

The way Murderbot is unvoluntarily without its opaque armor in All System Red in front of the crew (i.e. unmasking) and appears surprised at its own strong facial expressions and other people's reaction to it? The vulnerability that comes with that and how Murderbot spends pretty much the rest of the book wearing or actively missing its armor which keeps it safe from the mortifying ordeal of being known (yet sometimes other characters suggest it might help for it to not opacify the helmet in order for others to see it as a person and to trust it (and in the end idk if it would have achieved the rewards of being loved by its humans and have had its needs met if it hadn't unmasked in this relatively safe environment sometimes)).

Also there's the whole avoiding-looking-directly-at-people-and-using-drones-instead thing which Murderbot usually hides using the opaque helmet, but whenever it doesn't have that people notice it and many react negatively/confused. I think that's a whole neurodivergent-applicable situation in and of itself? Like damn

And then Mensah encourages Murderbot not to wear armor on Preservation station since it would not need it there, Murderbot is hesitant but ends up not wearing any (like 4 books later when we finally get to that bridge) (going for the comfortable clothes it chose for itself instead, with very strong feelings about the whole being able to make choices thing that I cannot go into further at this point because I would absolutely end up BITING SOMETHING OR SOMEONE).

And I'm not going to advocate for unmasking all the time in any setting because hell no, sometimes it absolutely sucks and people are irritated by Murderbot's now visible quirks and are afraid of what they don't know, but many GET TO KNOW Murderbot better and because there are other people that make sure Murderbot is safe and respected and are willing to get people fired for it if they disrespect it (Pin-Lee my beloved) Murderbot can experiment with this situation without being exiled to some abonded part of a planet and other people are forced to spend enough time around ot to learn to respect it and even like it. I just....... It must be so scary and Murderbot is handling so much at once and in this essay I will

PS sorry this is a disorganized mess but so am I and I have so many Thoughts and even more Emotions and so little patience.

[curioscurio]

When the blood work comes back completely normal and you're relieved but still left with no answers

[boydyke]

by the way. begging ocd positivity posts and any posts about ocd or targeted to ocd havers to never ever again say anything resembling "if you're worried about being a bad person, it just means you're a good person! you wouldn't be so scared of bad things if you were actually bad." Is your brain the size of a pea. Can you think maybe for a minute why telling people with an obsessive anxiety looping disorder that results in self harmful compulsive repetitive behaviors (that if left to fester will get worse and worse) that if they feel bad it means they're actually good. Do you want to send people with ocd directly to hell forever or do you just not stop to think about things very often

[nexus-nebulae]

me as a kid: i have all these problems

every adult around me: you're not old enough to know what's wrong with you, you're fine

me as an adult: i still have all these problems

my doctors after i finally got the opportunity to choose them myself: oh my fucking god why have you never gotten help for all these problems. you should have seen me 10 years ago

[ebonytails]

(clasps my hands) Hi everyone, i'm doing a quick interest check !

Please only respond if you would consider becoming a patron of mine! I want to see what site people would prefer the most and where my audience is. :-]

As for rewards, I have many ideas! From regular WIPS of all my work (school, commissions, boothing, etc), to Livestreams (If my internet allows it), to timelapses, etc! Also commission discounts :-)

[the-trans-dragon]

Day 2 of Starting Adderall Again:

->I decided to shower, and then went to the bathroom to shower.

-->I remembered my shower was dirty because maintenance recently worked on my toilet and somehow they got chunks of caulk in the shower, and also I hadn't cleaned it since I moved in about 7 months ago

--->Remembered I also wanted to mop since they'd come into my Clean Space with their Outdoor Shoes

---->Went and got the mop but the mop pad was dirty

---->Threw away the dirty mop pad and got a clean one on

--->Went and mopped the bathroom, which room about 60 seconds

-->Turned my focus towards the shower again and started looking for the cleaner

--->Spent probably 5 minutes looking under all the sinks before *remembering* that I'd used it about a week ago and maybe had left it on the counter

---Found it the counter

-->Sprayed the shower with cleaner

--->Decided to wash the sink while the cleaner was working on the shower

--->Finished the sink in about 5 minutes and then washed the shower for 3-5 minutes

-->Turned on the shower to let it rinse all the cleaner off

->Showered in about 10 minutes, much faster than normal because I didn't spend *any* time trying to remember what I was doing, and yet still did all the steps??? Effortlessly????

I managed to mop the bathroom, clean my sink, clean my shower, ***and*** take a shower, in like??????? 30 minutes?????

And it was all virtually effortless. I had to briefly talk myself into doing it, and then ponder "am I getting needlessly distracted? *Should* I mop too, or just clean the shower?" but it didn't really stress me out to wonder about it. I just...had thoughts in my brain...and they didn't really do anything useful...so I just decided to go ahead and mop, since my brain hadnt come up with any good reason *not* to.

I am in a state of peaceful awe and contentment.