#rather than blah thing that means nothing

[amerasdreams]

THIS is partly what I mean. I need more stillness and rest than most. Or I get burned out fast, I'm consumed by the horrible, rote, meaningless activity and it even drains me of energy for real things, creativity, things that matter. A state of constant tension (which I have anyway but even more). NEVER a life I want to live.

I need a workday of 4-5 hours-- unless it's work I love and am passionate about-- with the rest being rest, immersing in nature, creativity, hands on things, volunteer, interacting with kids and animals, etc.

I dont care about a lot of material things anyway. So I don't need a lot of money for superficial things like fashionable clothes, fancy cars, things thst font matter compared to things that aren't quantifiable. I am the sort of person who is really not made for this society at all, with its relentless consumerism and shallowness, hollowness-- I strive for meaning, the things that are suited to my skills and natural inclinations

[milo-is-rambling]

Me vs outlining a perfect plan for my day in my head which I can be the only one allowed to change the schedule vs my mom asking me to do 2 simple tasks

[flippedorbit]

do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?

[nosyrobin]

I saw this was in your list of things to write but nobody's sent you an ask yet (I think) sooo...

How would an Omegaverse Batfam react if M!Sibling!reader presented as an Alpha/Beta/Omega? Would they be more protective if reader was an Omega? More like a sibling rivalry situation if they're an Alpha?

||OMEGAVERSE AU!BATFAM X BATBRO!READER||

A/N: thanks for requesting! Here’s your order. <33

ALPHA

If batbro was ever an alpha, which I hc that if the batfam was in omegaverse that all the boys would either be betas or alphas. If batbro was an alpha, there would definitely be some kind of rivalry between the boys and batbro. But never too serious. It would line wolves playfully roughhousing until one says “ima be the main alpha when blah blah blah dies.” Then it gets a little serious.

But other than that, it’s probably nothing much rather than the batfam making sure you don’t crash out and act crazy around omegas. Dick probably tries to make you do dates because he already found himself one from a hook up. You can deny all you want but really your older brother just wants you to be happy with your omega.

Jason probably warns you about real dangerous omegas he heard around when patrol as red hood, he probably puts a tracker on you.

Tim, he doesn’t care much since you are an alpha like the rest of the family. He’s a beta, he’s smart enough to know you can take care of yourself. But at the same time there are dangerous omegas that will try and drug his brother he cares for since he is a Wayne. So he puts a tracker onto you as well.

Damian tries hard to not care for you. He glares at you, he basically growls at you. Trying to put on a hard shell, but he can’t help but stand by you everytime. He’s an alpha, and to another alpha to another. The pack must protect each other.

BETA

If batbro was a beta, I feel like the family would be very normal about it. Not disappointed that their brother is not an alpha, but at least he’s a beta.

The family is so glad their brother is a beta since beta’s are practically human beings in the omegaverse. No rut/heat, no aggressive or submissive behavior that can lead to tragedies. Just pure normal behavior.

Though that doesn’t mean your alpha and beta brothers won’t be protective of you. Of course they’re protective of you! You’re the one that puts the brothers and family together like glue like Alfred. You’re sane, you’re calm, and you’re a beta. You’re the package they need to relax after a terrible patrol.

Neither the less, it’s pretty chill for batbro who’s a beta.

OMEGA

Oh boy..if batbro was ever an omega….the batfamily is so protective over their omega family member. Always making sure the omega male has suppressants on during heat season. If batbro was ever around an alphas that wasn’t any of the batfamily members, Jason and dick are immediately behind the omega trying to see if the alpha has any bad intentions. Alphas know another alpha. Especially Jason since he knows how alphas can get around omegas.

Damian wouldn’t hesitate to chop off any alpha’s head for his brother. And Tim, Tim doesn’t mind doxing and scaring a few alphas away from his brother.

Bruce, ooooh boy. Bruce would definitely go Batman mode if an alpha even dares to try and be aggressive to his poor omega of a son. Jason would even give the alpha a little red hood visit with a gun loaded in his hand. These two don’t play.

They always keep tabs on you, because in omegaverse being an omega is basically a death wish. But being in Gotham is even worse than a death wish itself. They don’t care if you trained to fight as well and can kick mean ass. There can still be people that can always beat batbro up so they just track him 24/7.

[etherealkissed88]

learn indifference ⋆˙✧⋆

indifference = “lack of interest, lack of concern”

since we already know the 3d is always neutral and has no original meaning, we know that as the operant power we are the ones that assign ‘circumstances’ and ‘negative’ thoughts meaning.

we should continue being indifferent to the 3d meaning we dont care how it looks because it never means anything. being indifferent means no giving the 3d power, energy, no entertaining thoughts that dont serve us, no holding our desires above the pedestal, no accepting and creating stories based on our current 3d and dwelling in them.

remember that we are not our thoughts, we are not our circumstances, we are not our emotions, doubts, states, or anxieties. our past experiences have no power over us until we decide it does.

how to be indifferent:

be internally fulfilled (satisfy your inner self w the desire which is now reality) so that you feel the knowing of already having your desire which means it will be easier to not give a fuck about the 3d

accept the end and only the end: know that the 3d could be changing in your favor for example, a lady was manifesting a better high paying job and she got fired from her current job for whatever reason. because she got fired, someone recommended her to a new job which was higher paying and she got that job (which was what she wanted). imagine if she accepted the 3d when she lost her job instead of only accepting the end goal. this is why nothing in the 3d matters and why the 3d cant be trusted. whatever you see, dont identify with “this isnt working” blah blah blah because you should be practicing indifference like that lady. she didnt gaf about the 3d and continued accepting she was already her desired self

trust the law: the law is always working and failure does not exist. you identify as a desired version of you and fulfill? ok now its done. theres nothing else to do but continue being that person. dont let anything in the 3d crash you down. dont even entertain the option of “failure”

know the 3d is a reflection of imagination: it has no mind of its own. the only thing it knows how to do is reflect self/imagination so know that at every moment, you always call the shots. this is all you so why care or validate the 3d when its only a reflection of you?

hold yourself higher on the pedestal: when you put yourself (inner self/imagination) first, you become attached to anything else. finding validation in yourself only instead of the 3d. when you want something, immediately fulfill yourself with in imagination instead of searching for fulfillment in the 3d

stop giving the 3d attention: have you ever heard of “whatever you focus on grows”? when you find yourself being aware of the 3d, just shift you attention elsewhere

“As the end is accepted, you become totally indifferent as to possible failure, for acceptance of the end wills the means to that end. When you emerge from the moment of prayer, it is as though you were shown the happy and successful end of a play although you were not shown how that end was achieved.” - ng

“The best denial is total indifference. Things wither and die through indifference. They are kept alive through attention. You do not deny a thing by saying it does not exist. Rather you put feeling into it by recognizing it, and what you recognize as true, is true to you, be it good, bad or indifferent.” - nd

before indifference: *allowing negative thoughts to consume you, accepting the 3d ‘negative circumstances’ as true, when you imagine something and look at the 3d you feel easily discouraged and start to be a victim to it, feeling like you have to ignore the 3d because youre scared of it, you feel the need to search for answers in the 3d all day because you see it as more important than it actually is, you are attached to the 3d and your mood changes when a single little thing looks “bad”*

after indifference: *nothing in the 3d shakes who you are being in imagination because you know who you are internally being is the only truth, you dont care about experiencing things in the 3d that are the opposite of your desire because you know you always call the shots, if you get discouraged you get your ass back up and know yourself to be the operant power, you arent attached to the 3d and searching for its validation*

so when you are indifferent to the 3d, you dont care about it, you arent afraid of it, you know it holds no importance or original meaning therefore you dont let it influence who you are being in imagination. think about when people pass by a homeless person on the street: they might think about it in the moment but most of them would go thro the rest of their day forgetting about it because they just didnt care. think about that one person who always knows they look good and their jealous friend tells them they look bad: that person would not care about outside voices because they know that they look good and they only accept internal validation

your only job is accepting the desire that the inner self experiences, as true while being indifferent to the experiences of the human self

kisses, jani ☆

[csuitebitches]

Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it

How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?

How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?

How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?

Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. 🤍

Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.

First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.

People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?

By knowing how to tell a story.

That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.

Experience 

People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry… experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.

Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.

Hobbies and interests 

Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 

There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 

Vulnerabilities 

Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 

However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 

Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 

And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 

Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality

Storytelling 

Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.

Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 

Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.

A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.

The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.

For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”

Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”

Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.

Vocabulary 

A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 

Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 

Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 

A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 

Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality

[always-a-king-or-queen]

C 👏 S 👏 LEWIS 👏 WAS 👏 NOT 👏 MISOGYNISTIC

IM SO SICK OF THIS TAKE

“But he said girls shouldn’t fight in battles—" No, actually. What he said was “Battles are ugly when women fight.” Which literally translates to “in a war where women are required to fight to help win it, it means the war itself is really bad.” And this literally just means that the war has gotten so bad that women have to fight, not that women shouldn’t fight. Just that they shouldn’t be forced to. Anyway, remember Lucy?? Lucy who rode to battle in The Horse and His Boy?? Lucy who fought as an archer?? “But Susan didn’t—" Yeah. Because she didn’t want to. No one was forcing her not to fight. She had free will to fight or to not fight, and she chose not to because she didn’t want to, not because a man made her stay home.

“He punished Susan for growing up—" S i g h. This is the one I see the most often. “He did Susan dirty” “he made her suffer because she liked lipstick” “etc etc blah blah blah” First of all Narnia is a children’s book series. For CS Lewis to delve into why Susan forgot Narnia, talk about her dealing with the death of her entire family, discuss her grief, and write about her eventual return to Narnia (more on that in a second), it would’ve made for a pretty dark and heavy children’s book, and Lewis said that he didn’t think that was something he wanted to write. But he also encouraged people to finish Susan’s story themselves, and said she might eventually make her own way back to Narnia. Not only this, but Susan’s name means lily, and the waters around Aslan’s country are covered in lilies. Coincidence? I think not. I think it symbolizes she was going to go back. (Especially considering I think Lewis was very careful in choosing each of the Pevensie’s names, since they all relate to their character).

Also, Lewis did not condemn Susan simply for growing up and liking makeup and clothing and boys. If so why would he have written about Aravis and Shasta/Cor, or Caspian and Liliandil? Why would he have written about Susan and Lucy being beautiful and having many suitors? So no, he wasn’t condemning her for that, and in fact he wasn’t condemning her at all. It’s extremely probable that her family’s death would have brought Susan back to her senses. Because here’s the thing: she forgot. She threw herself so much into the world and approval and convinced herself that her life as a queen and her acquaintance with Aslan was all a silly game they played as children, that it wasn’t real. But, she very well could remember again, and I 1000% believe she did.

“All his female characters were weak and did nothing—" My friend. Lucy Pevensie was a female. She discovered Narnia. It was because of her. Her siblings would never have found it without her. Lucy is one of THE most important characters in the entire series. And her title? The Valiant. Lucy’s very title as queen denoted her bravery and fortitude without one even knowing her. As for Susan, she was not any weaker for being “The Gentle.” I would say gentleness is honestly one of the strongest traits a person can have, because it takes a lot to live and be gentle. Also remember Aravis? A major character in The Horse and His Boy and future wife of Shasta, Aravis literally nearly killed herself to escape an arranged marriage. She was not someone to be dictated to; she made her own choices and escaped rather than submitting. And in the end, she’s still fiery, just a little more humble and with less of a chip on her shoulder. Then there’s Polly, who is the more logical person in The Magician’s Nephew and tries to stop Digory from ringing the bell that wakes the White Witch. A boy causes her to awaken, not a girl. It was Digory’s fault she woke up, not Polly’s!!

Also, Peter and Edmund do not ignore their sisters because they’re girls. They listen to what they have to say and speak to them as equals. They don’t forbid them from fighting; Susan chooses not to, but Lucy goes straight into the heart of the battle with them! So don’t even say Lewis made his female characters weak. They were the backbone of much of the series and without them much of the plot would never have happened!!

So don’t you ever say to me that CS Lewis was misogynistic because it’s the furthest thing from the truth

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

Trigger Warning: Drug Use (Marijuana) / Discussion of death & loss / Transcript under the cut

Nancy: Are you going to tell me where we’re going?

Vanessa: Ever heard of savoring the moment? Basking in the adventure of the unknown?

Nancy: This sounds like a slasher film in the making.

Vanessa: You’re no fun, but fine. We’re going to my secret spot.

Nancy: Why are you taking me? What if I told someone about it?

Vanessa: You said you’re not a narc. Besides, we broke bread together.

Nancy: Oh, I see. I have dirt on you, so now you have dirt on me?

Vanessa: Wooow, Blondie! You have some serious trust issues.

Nancy: [mutters] Well. I don’t know you all that well..

Vanessa: I’m not mad. That makes sense. That just means I have to work extra hard to get you to trust me. I must warn you, I’m annoyingly persistent.

Nancy: What?

Vanessa: Nothing!

Nancy: Ok, seriously. What are we doing here?

Vanessa: Looking for my stash...ah fuck! Did someone jack my- ah-ha! Here she is!

Nancy: Who?

Vanessa: [sings] Mary Jane, I love her just the same.

Nancy: You brought us all the way out here to smoke pot?

Vanessa: What, you’d rather do it in front of the nuns? Get in here.

Vanessa: So, what’s your deal?

Nancy: My deal?

Vanessa: Yeah, like, why are you here? I doubt you saw a packet in the mail and thought, ‘I’d sure love to spend my senior year at a boring Catholic boarding school’. Unless you heard about all the hot guys here, then that makes sense.

Nancy: Wasn’t my idea.

Vanessa: Ok. So, what happened?

Nancy: [huffs] Well, if I talk about it then it never goes away, does it? That’s kind of the whole point.

Vanessa: [hums] Well, you’re in the right place, that’s for sure.

Vanessa: [murmurs] All you have to do is pray, and it all goes away.

Nancy: What’s your story?

Vanessa: Not much of a story. I was raised in the church. Heir to my family’s fortune. Blah blah blah. You know how it is, being a Landgraab and all.

Nancy: It wasn’t always like that. My brother was supposed to be next in line, but he died when I was 4.

Vanessa: Fuck, I’m sorry.

Nancy: It’s- I barely remember him, so..

Vanessa: [after a beat] My mom died giving birth to me. My father says I’ll spend the rest of my life being great to atone for it. That’s actually all he says to me.

Nancy: I don’t think my father knows he even has a daughter. I bet he doesn’t know the color of my eyes- he hasn’t looked me in them my whole life.

Vanessa: [laughs] What the fuck? We're really messed up, huh? You know, you’re not like any of the other girls here.

Nancy: Is that a bad thing?

Vanessa: No. I’m not like any of them either.

Nancy: [coughs aggressively]

Vanessa: [laughs] Don’t swallow it! We should head back before they start room checks. You do not want to catch Sister Anges in the halls after curfew.

Vanessa: [cackling] Move your ass, Landgraab!

Nancy: Shhh! We’ll get caught!

Sister Agnes: And where are you two coming from?

Nancy: We? Um. We...

Vanessa: From the greenhouse, Sister Agnes. I was just showing the new girl around. Nancy says she loves her some pot-

Nancy: -tted plants! Potted plants!

Sister Agnes: You should know the rules better than anyone, Ms. Villareal. No loitering in common areas without a chaperone. Up to bed now.

Nancy: Pot? Really?

Vanessa: I thought it would be funny!

Vanessa: Today was pretty fun. You should come hang out with us during rec. Dina and Nina are total bitches but they’re funny.

Nancy: Sure. Yeah. Cool.

Vanessa: Cool. ‘Night Blondie.

Nancy: Goodnight...Red.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Sharing a bed with Tangerine is less awkward than you'd anticipated, at least for you.

Prompt: one bed ~ "watch where you're going! You almost took my eye out with that thing!"

Warnings: tangerine is just an awkward guy with a crush, swearing, allusions to being intimate

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

"I'll take the sofa," Tangerine pipes up as you both walk into the hotel room, his eyes landing on the small, rather uncomfortable looking, love seat that is pushed in the corner of the room.

You drop your bag, rolling your shoulder, and then turn your head to look at him like he's gone mental. 

"Absolutely no one is asking you to do that, Tangerine," you say and glance around the room, pointing to the normal queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

"See, there's plenty of room for us both," you add casually, looking down again and using your feet to pull off your sneakers, ignoring the disconcerted look your partner sends you.

 "Just because we're pretendin' to be a married couple doesn't mean we hav' to sleep like one, luv." 

You narrow your eyes at him. "Oh trust me, I don't wanna do any marital things with you," you say, feeling warmth in your cheek. You walk to the mirror and fix your hair. "I'm just saving you from a back ache. Would you want me to take the sofa?"

"No," Tangerine says immediately and as if sensing the rest of his sentence you spin around again and point your index at him.

"And don't give me that I'm the man so blah blah bullshit, okay?" 

Tangerine sighs and raises his hand in surrender, deciding he can bring this up again later.

He does when you're brushing your hair and he's brushing his teeth, and you're both looking in the mirror. You're almost touching hips in the small bathroom, but you don't mind.

When you had imagined sharing this room with him, you'd imagined it awkward and tense. Only, you're currently feeling none of those things. You feel content, happy even, to be around him in such a domestic setting.  

You'd never admit this aloud but you like him. Sometimes more than you should.

Tangerine however looks like he's losing his mind. "I can always buy another room," he offers. 

You tug the brush through another knot and roll your eyes at him. "And risk blowing our cover? Brilliant."

He spits out his toothpaste and thinks for a moment. "Okay, well I can—"

You turn around to look at him, leaning your hand against the sink and interrupting his word vomit, "What's your issue? You've never slept in the same bed as a woman or something? You're being so weird for absolutely nothing. It's no big deal." 

Tangerine wants to agree with you, tell you he's calm and cool and not freaking out, but his heart is hammering in his chest it almost hurts. He looks at you, feeling somewhat dizzy at the mere idea of sleeping next to you.

It's stupid. You're his friend and friends share a bed all the time. It's no big deal, like you said.

So why does he feel like this?

"I've slept with women," he says it wrong and you laugh. 

"Cheers, Tan."

Tangerine's cheeks turn a vibrant shade of red and he's never felt like more of an idiot in his life.

Your eyes soften when you see how embarrassed he is and you cup his face in your hands, smiling at him. "Hey, listen, I don't know why you're becoming so worked up over this but I pinky swear I won't jump you in your sleep or anything," you say, chuckling and this time Tangerine smiles a little.

"It's just sleeping, kay?"

Your words seem to relax him until a few minutes later and you're both laying in bed, blankets wrapped around your bodies. It's raining outside, the sound slowly lulling you into a deep slumber.

You shift on your stomach, cheek pressed into the pillow contently as you swing your arm across the other side, momentarily forgetting that there's another person there. 

"Woah," Tangerine groans, his voice hoarse, grabbing your arm and holding it up and away from his face. He blinks. "Watch where you're going, darlin', you almost took my eye out with this thing." He shakes your arm and the bracelet around your wrist dangles.

You hum and whisper, "It's from you, y'remember?"

Tangerine can't really see the bracelet in the darkness so he sits up, making you shift as you groan, and he turns on the light.

"Why?" you whimper at him and, because you have no choice, you sit up with him, your eyes bleary as you adjust to the light. You let him look at your bracelet.

It's the charm bracelet he'd given you on your birthday last year with charms from all the cities he and Lemon had visited without you—when you hadn't been needed on that particular job—Tangerine knew how much that bothered you so he'd gotten you this. 

"Ya wear this all the time?" he asks softly, blinking away his exhaustion to focus.

You blink, nodding as you yawn. "You haven't noticed? I wear it all the damn time." Tangerine must have somehow not recognized the bracelet, which makes him feel like a prick.

He traces the bracelet with his thumb, his chest swelling with pride. He shakes his head, not answering verbally, but he looks at you. You're tired. You're struggling to keep your head up and your eyes open as you let him move your arm around. 

He stills when your head lolls and your cheek hits his shoulder but he doesn't tense.

Finally, Tangerine is relaxing. He can hear the rain and the sound of your steady breaths on his shoulder, your arm going limp in his hand. He smiles softly and lowers your arm on his lap, his hand then coming up to caress some hair from your forehead. 

How inappropriate would it be to wake you and press his lips to yours?

The answer is very so he doesn't. Instead, he shifts again and flicks off the light, moving down the mattress until your head is comfortably on his chest. You stir, waking up a little and moving closer to him, but then you're asleep again and Tangerine hums. 

You feel safe in his arms, he deduces from the way you're sleeping, and his smile widens.

"Goodnight' my darlin'," he whispers and kisses your temple so gently he almost doesn't recognize himself.

His hand finds your wrists again and he fiddles with the bracelet as once more, his chest now warm with love. His heart leaps when you shift again and you nuzzle your nose into his shirt, making a small content sound.

He makes up his mind that he has to buy you more things now, until eventually you'll be covered in gifts from him. 

Until, finally, you're fully and truly his.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion

[oishiyani]

🦐 ; Bigger Hints

warnings ; implied yandere behavior, contains nsfw, stalking, dark explicit content, gore(?) well slightly, NOT proof read (im sorry)😿, fem reader

wc ; 2,241

might make a few more bunch of these with the others in mind 😸!

maybe taking on the offer of the one and only fyodor dostoevsky wasn't such a bad idea at first. taking on the job to be an undercover spy for him, your job was to only spy on the list of people he gave to you. atsushi, dazai, blah blah blah.. a whole bunch of random people you don't even know from before. well not until now that you're already trying to pinpoint their whereabouts.

and in return, you get money. that's right- money.

you liked money, with it's own multiple purposes- to buy new clothes, food, accessories, some new shoes.. oh how it was such a dream for you to achieve those. i mean, the job was to only spy on them, don't act suspicious.. and don't get caught, those were the last thoughts before you accepted the job, signed the contract you were offered from fyodor.

fyodor.. was a strange and quite gave off an unsettling vibe for you. from his outfit dressed oddly to his dark mauve colored eyes gazing at you as you try to drink your tea in peace while you two were in the same room. why'd he have to look at you like that?! it was making the atmosphere quite a bit awkward so you shifted your gaze somewhere else quickly after meeting sight with him.

focus on something else... oh the music! yes, yes, y/n. just listen to the music and enjoy your food, don't look at fyodor for god's sake!

it had been already more than a few times of exchanging stares from each other between you and fyodor, you had to ask yourself why does he have to look at you so often? not like something's wrong with what you're wearing right? or maybe there was something on your face?

you assumed that fyodor has an interest in orchestra music. he would always play them while you two were doing nothing, his eyes closed as he listened to the tune while you sat there or while resting. you weren't allowed to bring your phone in fyodor's base. it was forbidden but you don't dare to ask why.

"soo.. how long have you been listening to orchestra music, fyodor?" you asked in hopes to lessen the unhandy feeling. starting a conversation to expect a reply when he did the opposite. now that made you felt quite embarrassed- or maybe he didn't hear you through the sound of the music running in the background?

great, now you just wanna bury yourself under the dirt.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

as days passed, fyodor's behavior made quite a curve.. rather than usual.

now, starting a conversation with him was the least likely thing you wanted to take action on. thinking that he was the person who didn't like to be disturbed after the 'awkward' event that happened a few days ago. but now was different.

he was getting quite getting verbal with you, besides the conversation of your report on the strange men you spied- fyodor started making side comments after your reports. it would sometimes be questions of what else did you do besides spying? or what did you eat today? or, did you take a bath?

then to be surprised to feel a vibration from your pocket after finishing your break in fyodor's base. receiving an unknown number through your phone. the message stating 'this is fyodor.'

now that felt the slight goosebumps on your skin. how'd he even get your number? you don't remember giving out your number to anyone these past few weeks.

you shrugged it off, telling your self it was no big deal. being familiar with fyodor didn't set you off, although you still wonder how'd he get your number from the start.

the next day you asked fyodor on how'd he get your number, to be only answered by silence and another music piece of orchestra playing in the background, was he avoiding your question- or did he not hear it again?

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

the next few days again, you receive such special and luxurious gifts outside your doorstep from an unknown sender. they would vary, to sets of bouquets, expensive chocolates, high quality essentials, and branded clothes and bags. and a gigantic fluffy teddy bear.

of course you were really shocked. at first, you thought that the sender might be sending a bunch of these gifts to the wrong person or the wrong address. but unfortunately the gifts didn't give any clue who was sending it, not even a note or an initial somewhere. truthfully you wanted to return it out of guilt, feeling that you don't deserve much of these- still thinking this must be for another person but mistaken you for that person. yet you still kept them, stacking it around the empty spaced corner you had in your dorm.

you're making money out of this job you have, you can get all of those one day if you finally start a career and become successful one day using the saved up cash you get from your job.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

on the last day of your contract, which stated that you only needed to do this for a month. unexpectingly your relationship between fyodor had become more.. closer?

fyodor started to question more about your personal life, your family, past history, relationships, your friends, experiences that you found funny. he listened while you kept talking. and one time, you swore that you heard him mumble, but you were in the middle of talking as you were pouring the kettle filled with tea onto your empty tea cup.

sitting on the fancy looking sofa, fyodor who's roots are surprisingly removed from his chair he usually sat on- instead, he sat near the single fancy looking chair just beside the long sofa you were sitting on.

"i'd love to hear your voice forever."

"sorry, i didn't hear what you said! what were you saying again?" you spoke as your hurried to place the kettle back to its old position.

to his reply, "oh- nothing, you can continue."

you blinked for a moment, "alright, so-" continuing what you were saying without a single curiosity on what he previously said. you assumed maybe it was just the wind? well that was funny for a wind to sound like fyodor that time. but once again, the poor oblivious y/n was going about to dive in the danger zone.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

"n-ngh.. ah-" fyodor hissed under his shortened breath, huffing as he watching from the desktop in front of him as his hand was moving up and down furiously around his cock from the displayed footage in his desktop.

a live footage of you, completely naked after your shower. it was such a delightful image to see in his eyes, your body wet, the way the water droplets drooped on your skin, your pair of tits who fyodor was craving to fondle.

god, it was making him so crazy. watching you dress up in a sexy looking dress- it was even the dress fyodor sent you. your bare ass faced in front of the camera made his action fasten- he bit his lips, his hand pumping his throbbing cock till he reached to his climax. making his cum stain on the screen of his desktop.

fyodor gulped the lump on his throat, calming his breathing when you were almost finished with dressing up yourself- you were grabbing a pair of heels then a doorbell suddenly rang on your door. it was 8pm, now who could that be? "coming!" you shouted, grabbing the purse that was on your bed.

fyodor watched you wear those pair of heels in a haste, you tried to run after wearing them- yet still being careful not to trip. he continued to watch you out of curiosity on who was on your doorstep in the middle of the night. unfortunately for him, the creek to your room showed a silhouette of you and another person who was taller than you, had quite a large figure, and was a man, he thought.

the built-in camera inside the teddy bear he sent you recorded the conversation coming through the hallway, both of you and the man's voices echoing loud enough for the camera to reach the volume. to fyodor's reaction, it really was the worse that y/n can imagine.

"are you ready for our date?" the voice of a man spoke

"mhm, didn't expect you to get here at the exact time we talked about!" your voice replied.

something inside fyodor was burning intensely, his heart felt a painful ache he couldn't prevent- his hands balled into a fist while his eyes glared at the screen after hearing what he just heard. a date? with this man he never knew of? how ridiculous.

he thought that you were getting the hints he was giving, although to you- it barely even got into your mind that he was into you by showing the sudden curve of behavior.

he had to make a bigger hint on who you only belong to.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

the contract ended with fyodor, you were now a cashier for a bakery- still saving up money for the career you want to pursue.

everything was as normal as usual, a day where you work, go home, eat, sleep. then to wake up to your new fiance cooking you a good smelling breakfast in the morning. you met your partner by just stumbling upon him by the street, spilling coffee on you that stained what you were wearing, offered to pay and treat you to a restaurant- he insisted alot so you couldn't help but agree, then that's where all the talking started.

he was a night shift worker who worked as an engineer. while you worked from afternoon to around the evening.

then suddenly, every important people in your life, disappear one by one.

receiving an email of a photo of your fiance caught kissing another woman in a club- heartbroken then went to seek comfort through your friends, but they refused to be in contact with you, you didn't know why!

you were in the lowest point of your life.. you seek your family, calling your mom- hoping that she'd pick up but to misfortune hitting you, you only got a message that says they're not available. for after 30+ calls every hour?!

you don't know what's happening.. you ask yourself what is happening? you were confused, so confused. you lied there on your bed for who knows how many days you were sobbing with red puffy eyes surrounded with tissues all over the place.

curled up into a ball, you were fired from your job for being absent for weeks without any reason. now that just made it worse for you- the feeling of being back to zero, now who were you to turn to now?

'fyodor..' wait, that's right.. fyodor! maybe you could take his job again, in hopes to get progress through life being rough on the road.

you sat up from your bed, feeling a bit of back pain from lying for too long. you stood up and quickly grabbed a jacket and wearing it- there you took the route you were once familiar with. to the way to get to the man fyodor's place.

finally arriving to his place which was located in a forest, you walked up to the door and gathered the courage to knock. just knock y/n.. just like before, like you always did.. fyodor knows you right?

with a silent moment, you knocked 3 times. then a few seconds passed you overthinked that maybe he doesn't live here anymore. or maybe he wasn't hear- or maybe he just didn't want to answer the door-

the sound of the doorknob turned, you were startled but your body felt nervous for seeing a person you haven't seen for a while.

and there you met eyes again with the man, one and only- fyodor. he still looked the same as ever from the last time you saw him, he greeted you with a smile as he looked down at you.

"fyodor! i-"

you were cut off by fyodor's sudden offering of a small box with a ribbon wrapped on it.

"what's this..?" you asked.

"oh, open it so you can find out." fyodor replied.

you took the small box out of the palm of his hands, with one pull of the strand of the ribbon untied it. you opened the lid of the box.

a flash of horror and disgust was on your face, immediately recognizing what was inside.. it was the finger of your fiance.. the finger where he wore the matching rings he gave you when he proposed to you.

"what the fuck!" you dropped the box out of shock, you looked at fyodor with your legs feeling weak as they tremble- your breath started to shake. you felt stunned. paralyzed.

fyodor smiling at you, how did he get that in the first place..? you had so much questions running your mind, they continue and continue.. and continue till your nose was covered with a cloth.

your vision blurred, you felt your consciousness fading. what was happening? were you dying? you finally collapsed, being caught in fyodor's arms as he gazed at you the way he gazed you from the beginning.

fyodor's arms wrapped around your unconscious body, pulling you close to kiss your forehead. a smile of victory.

"you're mine.. all mine my little мышь"

[riality-check]

tw for mentions of substance abuse (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7)

ao3

Steve Harrington has been awake for fifty four hours. With luck, he'll be able to eke out another eighteen. Three days seems to be the sweet spot, even if he only makes it there half the time and, of that half, it only works half the time.

It's better than nothing.

Maybe four days is the sweet spot. Ninety six is close to one hundred, and that seems like a good omen.

Omens don't really matter though. What matters is staying awake.

So, Steve chugs his coffee and walks into the conference room. Coffee isn't enough, not nearly, but it'll do until he gets desperate enough to take something.

He really does try to only take them when he's desperate. It's easier that way, to just do it when he feels like he needs to rather than measuring dosages and remembering times. Hours start to blur around hour forty of being awake.

He walks in, sits down in the chair closest to the door, and is met with a withering glare from Eddie Munson.

Listen. Steve isn't happy about this either, but at least he doesn't look like he stepped in dog shit on the way here. Then again, Steve doesn't have the luxury of ever looking truly unhappy.

Eddie is a rock star. Mean is part of his brand, while mean is the antithesis to Steve's.

Whatever.

"Are you kidding me?" Eddie says, still staring at him, but Steve knows he's not who he's asking.

"He's the best person for the job," Chrissy, Eddie's manager, says.

"We don't need him."

Someone taps Steve's left shoulder. He turns to see Jeff, the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, give him a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Steve," he says, and Steve shakes his proffered hand.

"Happy to help," he says, and it's only half a lie.

The drummer and the bassist - Steve would probably be able to remember their names if he wasn't so exhausted - wave their hellos from a few seats away.

"Hi, Steve," Chrissy says.

He takes another swig of his coffee and gives her a little wave in response.

"We don't need a pop singer to write lyrics for us," Eddie says, still not letting this go.

"Yes, you do," Steve says. He sets his coffee cup down on the table and opens the folder he brought with him. "I read through the lyrics of every one of your songs."

"You didn't even listen to them?"

"Would have taken too much time."

That's a lie. Listening, even with the lengthy guitar solos, probably would have taken less time. But Steve needs something to fill the hours when he's supposed to be asleep, and reading, that slow process with its ample, awakening frustration, is the perfect thing.

"You became so much less interesting after your first album," he says. "Every one of your songs talks about the same thing. Conquering evil, killing demons, blah blah blah."

"That's what's in right now," Eddie snaps.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches the drummer and Chrissy make the same motion. They pinch the bridges of their noses, clearly frustrated.

Steve sees why Chrissy wanted to talk to him.

"It is," he concedes. "But I also read the lyrics of every song by the bands with top ten hits. They don't talk about it nearly as much. They sing about other stuff. And they don't use an F major chord in every one of their songs."

"We don't-"

"We kinda do, Eddie," the bassist pipes up. "I'm a little sick of playing F."

Eddie takes a breath. Steve takes the opportunity to take a pill.

He found a way to make it less obvious for people who have something to say about it. Steve will take one from his pocket, yawn, cover his mouth, and swallow it dry. Easy peasy. They don't notice, he doesn't have to deal with people who don't get it making comments.

Except when he does, this time, Eddie narrows his eyes. Like he knows what he's doing.

Steve doesn't like that look.

"Have you read my stuff?" He won't ask if Eddie has listened to any of it. He knows the answer is no, if he keeps bringing up genre like that really means anything.

Eddie doesn't respond. He keeps those narrowed eyes trained on Steve and stays silent.

"Didn't think so," he says, and he slides over the thick stack of papers Robin stapled together for him last night. "Here's everything. Read it. Tell me if you like it. I'm only helping you if you give a shit. This goes two ways, and I don't want to waste my time if you think I'm wasting yours."

Eddie doesn't take the stack, but the drummer, sitting next to him, tugs them closer. "Thanks."

"Let me know tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Jeff says, eyebrows raised.

Steve forgets that most people don't actually take advantage of their twenty four hours.

"End of the week," he says instead, and he relaxes when Jeff does.

The drummer starts flipping through the pages while the bassist looks over his shoulder.

"Need anything else from me?" Steve asks Chrissy.

"I don't think so," she says. "I'll call you back to set up a time for Saturday."

He's amazed by the fact that someone as sweet as her works with someone as pretentious as Eddie.

"Sounds good," he says, and he walks out, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie's eyes on him as he goes through the door.

It only halfway works.

The pill should kick in soon, within a half hour, maybe shorter because of the coffee. Maybe he'll write something. Maybe he'll work on the piano melody he's been tinkering with for the past week. Maybe he'll read the latest book Robin picked up from the library, something interesting enough to be worth the frustration of the moving letters, something that will still fill the time.

He'll make it to seventy two hours. Then he'll crash because his body is a worthless piece of shit, and he hopes this is the half of the time when he doesn't have any goddamn nightmares.

Maybe he should pop another pill, just in case.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Central City

ectoberhaunt24 day 13- old hero, new world fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny meets a parka man and a red pajama man

masterlist ao3 part 2 of TCAB

Danny flew invisible for a while, passing through several cities before he felt a chill in the air.

He dove down toward the city he was flying over. He could hear the sound of fighting and he flew in that direction, feeling the delicious cold increasing. But he had to stop when he got to the fight scene. There was a man dressed in a fluffy coat holding a gun that was shooting ice, and opposite him was a man in a red onsie with zigzag horns coming from his ears. The red man seemed to be trying to run fast but kept slipping on the ice.

He frowned, wondering which one was supposed to be the hero and which one the villain. They both looked rather comical.

Invisibly, Danny made his way closer, subtly freezing both men’s feet to the ground while they were monologuing at each other.

“I’m going to defeat you blah blah blah”

“You'll never win blah blah blah”

“Villainy rules blah blah blah”

“Justice rules blah blah blah”

Then, moving so that he was between the two men Danny made himself visible while cackling madly like a crazy evil mad scientist villain man.

“You both shall lose you losers! For, I am the greatest being of all time. My chilling,” he smirked, “powers are surpassed by none! Mwahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahhahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahhaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Danny cackled madly, glad that he didn’t need to breath so that he could crackle longer than anyone had ever caclked madly before.

“Ummm…. Who are you?” said the red pajama man.

“Yes, who dares interrupt my legendary defeat of Central’s abysmal defender?” said the eskimo man.

“Hey! I’m going to defeat you!” exclaimed the yellow horned man.

“Never!” yelled the furry, parka obsessed man.

“Neither of you shall win!” Danny said, throwing out his hands and making the ice creep up the men’s legs. “For I am the supreme user of all things cold and icy! None shall defeat me! Least of all a North Pole explorer and a horned red pajama man! Mwahahahahahahhaahhahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahhahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahah!” Danny laughed, enjoying the men’s expressions of outrage.

“And since I am the most evil of evildoers, I shall take…” Danny looked around, “That!” he said pointing at the gun furry coated icicle man was holding and levitating it towards himself. “This is mine now!” he exclaimed, holding the gun aloft.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“No! Kid, give that to me! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“But it’s mine! You can’t have it! I built it! Give it back!”

“It doesn’t matter if you made it, you’re using it for evil so it needs to be locked up! Give it to me, kid!”

Both men were struggling to get out of their icy bonds, but they were both failing rather miserably, Danny thought. Then again, Danny’s ice is pretty awesome.

“Well, since both of you cannot free yourselves of your icy bonds then that means that I am the mightiest, and I deserve to have this whatchamacallit! And there’s nothing you can do about it! Mwahahahha–” Danny started but choked on spit and dissolved into a coughing fit. 

The men were staring at him, which, rude. They weren’t even asking if he was okay!

Whatever. He had got a cool new toy to play with. He wondered what powered it. All the other fancy guns he’d seen were powered by ectoplasm. It would be cool to take a look at whatever this was.

He turned back to the two men. 

“Sayonara, suckers!” he said before going invisible, stifling his giggles as he fled.

[yeollie-plz]

Hello! I'm a new follower and I love you're writing! I was wondering if you could do a fiction of Andrew Garfield x reader? I'll leave the scenario up to you :)

Not Exactly As Planned

Andrew Garfield x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Andrew has been acting suspicious lately and you've all but convinced yourself that he's cheating.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurities, Y/N insert

Gif credits to owners!

"I'm telling you, Andrew has been acting strangely lately." Your best friend raised her eyes at you in an accusatory gesture. "Stranger than usual..." You trailed off, returning her look with an annoyance laced one of your own.

"I'm just nervous...you know?" You let your eyes wander to the cup sat in front of you. It's once sugary taste now bitter to you with the revelation of your confession.

Your best friend sat her own cup down, "So what? You think he's lying to you? Cheating on you?"

"I don't know, but its hard not to rush to the worst conclusion."

"Blah, blah, blah, you have trust issues. I know! But trust me that man would rather sit on a hot iron before ever hurting you!"

You rolled your eyes, "You're right..."

"Yeah, I know I'm right. Now finish your drink so we can go, the guy I went on a date with last weekend is right there." She rushed from her seat and dragged you up with her. You struggled to finish the sip you were taking as she jostled you up to your feet.

As you two walked away, you spoke up again. "'Sit on a hot iron?'" You turned to her so you could read her expression.

"Hey! I never said I was good at metaphors. Only relationship advice!"

"If only you could apply your advice to your own love life." You said pointedly.

"Hey!"

Later that night, you were sat on your couch watching tv, alone. Andrew had yet to come home. You were worried of course, but that worry soon warped itself into a different kind of worry. You were once again worried about your relationship.

Although your friend had attempted to help you push away those negative thoughts, they began to creep in once again. Then crept in the insecurities. And now you were no longer focused on what was playing on the television.

It wouldn't hurt if you just snooped around a bit, would it? I mean it was your apartment too. A quick peak wouldn't do any harm, you concluded, and lifted yourself from the couch.

Moving towards your bedroom, your heart began to beat faster. Not sure if you would find something or get caught. But you pushed the fear aside and walked to Andrew's nightstand.

You pulled out the top drawer, seeing only a few pictures, a book, and some other random items. Pulling out the bottom drawer, you lifted up a few papers to peak further in. Only to find nothing but more papers. One day he'd have to organize all of this, you shook your head, and lifted yourself back up to your feet.

You sighed, now you had to face the closet. You had a feeling you'd find nothing in the nightstand, but somehow knew the closet would be a different story.

You began to shuffle through his side of the closet. Moving things aside to get a better look. You even dug through his dirty to clothes to look for marks on his shirts or receipts in his pockets. Nothing!

You were about to give up when a box at the very top of the shelves caught your eye. Tilting your head, you had never noticed this box before. You decided that must have something in it.

So, you grabbed a chair from the kitchen, dragging it into the closet behind you. Pushing yourself onto it, you reached up to grab the box. You were just about to have it fully in a safe hold when Andrew walked into the doorway and startled you by asking what you were doing. Somewhere between you dragging the chair across the apartment and you dangerously balancing on top of it, Andrew had come home and heard you.

You jumped slightly, letting the box fall from your hands and almost falling off the chair. Andrew caught you by the waist and helped you stabilize yourself.

He laughed at your clumsiness, "What are you doing?" You looked around trying to find an excuse, he followed your frantic movements. Both of your eyes then landed on a small black box. He met your confused look with his scared one.

"This is not how this was supposed to happen." He concluded suddenly.

"What?" You were confused as you looked at the little box again. Oh. My. God. That was a ring box!

"Well I guess, since I probably can no longer surprise you with it." He moved to pick up the box, getting down to one knee. "Y/N, I love you so much. You are my soulmate. And this isn't exactly how I wanted to do this but in a way this is very us. So, Y/N will you be mine forever? Will you marry me?"

You nodded your head quickly, squeaking out a yes. He stood and pulled you into a hug. Tears began to fall from your eyes as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I had this whole thing planned, I was going to take you to dinner. Walk along the river, to this beautiful candle lit stage." He hummed in thought.

"I thought you were cheating on me." You admitted.

"What?" He pulled away in shock, trying to read your eyes.

"Well, you were being suspicious and sneaking around and I just thought the worse. That's why I was snooping around."

"Oh goodness, love, I never meant to make you feel like that. I just really wanted to make it special for you." You shook your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek.

"It's okay, I'm kind of in a just got engaged high now. Nothing can bring me down." Suddenly you pushed out of his arms and ran out of the closet.

Andrew called after you, "Where are you going?"

"To tell everyone!"

[solomons-finest-rum]

I SAW YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I know this is such a basic idea but I adore the idea of Alfie and his wife going to get another puppy or doggo as a sort of 'companion' for Cyril bc Y/N would definitely believe that "Cyril deserves his own companion too Alfie 🥺", I love your fics so much and thank you for the blessing of your work angel ❤️

Hi love! Thank you so so much for the very kind words! 🥰🥰🥰

Initially Alfie wasn't really on board when it came to getting another dog, but not for the reasons you might think.

He was afraid Cyril would feel replaced by the new puppy.

Yes, he was a more caring man than he'd initially let on, but still Alfie was convinced that you fell for his whole song and dance about "no more bloody dogs an' that is final, that!" and he wouldn't have to explain.

Of course you didn't believe him, not even for a second. You knew Alfie better than anyone, but not even your reasoning could get through that tough and stubborn exterior.

Sometimes Alfie got too deep in one of his foul moods and you just had to wait it out.

He of course remained convinced that you believed his poorly constructed facade and that would be the end of that.

Unfortunately for Alfie, his wife remained something of a certified expert in dealing with his moody nature and so you devised a plan.

A plan as cunning as that husband of yours.

You already knew that with Alfie the more revealing truths of his character were the things carefully left out of the narrative and so tricking him remained the only option.

But tricking a trickster, well, that looked roughly as easy as stealing from the king of thieves.

So you took a page out of your husband's book and terrorised Ollie until he joined your little charade.

"Mrs. Solomons, I'd rather we didn't sneak around the office..." "But I am Mrs. Solomons, aren't I?" "Well, yes...?" "So what's mine is his I reckon, blah, blah, blah, 'till death do us part, all that jazz, now hold the door for me, will ya?" "Mrs. Solomons, but your husband doesn't like it!" "Cheer up Ollie, darling, I'll just be a second! Now, where does he keep the bandages?" "Mrs. Solomons, are you... Fuck! What is that?!" "That is a dog, darling, don't look so shocked... Hand me that bottle." "Mrs. Solomons, I know what dogs are and this ain't it!"

You see, the charade had to be believable.

It had to work.

So the dog had to mean something more than just a dog, you had to give it all a believable story.

As fate would have it, you overheard your neighbours gossiping about a gang holding illegal dog fights near Whitechapel.

So you recruited four biggest members of Alfie's gang and got yourself a dog.

Or two.

Or ten.

"Got" would be the term used loosely here, truth be told you stole them all and ordered the men behind the ring executed, but potato, potat-oh.

All of the poor creatures were given a good loving home, except one that looked both the scariest and the most injured.

That one you decided to keep and with Ollie's reluctant help you managed to clean up most of his wounds.

Perhaps the greatest surprise of all was Alfie's reaction.

Contrary to his usual habits he said nothing as soon as he entered the office.

He looked at you, then at the dog, then at Ollie.

You chose your best impression of a deer in the headlights for the occasion.

(Granted, Ollie got the worst of the squinting and a very menacing hum thrown in there just to let him know who's boss and that the aforementioned was very much disapproving of the impromptu gathering in his own private office, thanks very much.)

As soon as Ollie left, though, the dog was given a proper introduction and all your worries left you when you saw Alfie smile under all that beard and initial suspicion.

You figured, though, that if you were to keep your husband on your toes, you'd expect nothing less in return.

[2rats1gogh]

if i had to locate myself somewhere among the fans of House of the Dragon, i’d say i’m team green, but it’s slightly more complex than just that.

It’s not like I necessarily want Aegon on the throne, but rather I simply don’t want Rhaenyra on the throne.

Because, at the end of the day, legitimate heir or not, she would be a bad queen. When did she ever do anything for the smallfolk? When did she ever care about anyone but herself, her children and her many lovers? What did she accomplish, what did she do to earn my support? Is she “the Breaker of Chains”? “The Builder”? Literally anything? Name one thing she has done to be considered worthy of becoming a queen.

What makes you think she would be a better queen than Aegon?

“She loved her children!!” Okay um that proves literally nothing? Cersei loved her children as well, and so what, did that make her a good leader?

“She embraced her sexuality and had sex with whoever she wanted, meaning she is independent and can choose for herself, and blah blah blah…” again, so what? having sex with lots of people just because don’t fucking make you a good leader?? Aren’t you familiar with Robert Baratheon?

“She is the legitimate heir, Viserys named her!” shut up, you know that is not a valid point.

“She is older” Age ≠ maturity/wiseness/leadership

“She is woman, feminist, girl power, women are always better leaders!”

[doin-just-fine]

The People Wanna Know: Dissociation

Q: “How do you tell when you’re dissociating, and what kinds are there?”

A: 🛸 Great question! When figuring out my plurality we had a few questions about dissociating and how to tell the difference between that and being lost in thought and blah blah blah. SO! Here's what we've got for you!

🛸 Many people will describe dissociating as "checking out" which is super vague and leave a lot of questions as to what exactly that means. Not to mention that some people just kind of live in a state of dissociation and don't have a reference of "normal" so I will try to give you both. What does it mean, feel like, look like to dissociate? Meaning: Dissociating happens when there is too much stress for the mind to handle. Things like a traumatic event can cause dissociation or just everyday mundane situations that lead to dissociation like going on auto pilot when you're driving or reading a book. Immediately after a traumatic even it's that feeling where time slows and nothing feels real like you're watching the events around on a tv screen instead of being there in persons. I think what most people wonder about or need clarification on is random moments of dissociation due to an over active trauma response. Most systems experience long term trauma that puts them in a constant state of fight or flight. This causes them to have a very overactive stress response when they are finally in a safe environment. Sometime people feel as though they dissociate for no reason, others over things most would consider minor stressors, on top of the majors stressors that just come with life. Having an over active stress response like this can lead to dissociation disorders like derealization (feeling like the world around you isn't real) and depersonalization (feeling like you yourself are not real). These occur typically when someone lives in a state of dissociation more often than not but can also be used to describe the the sensation dissociation at any given time.

Feeling: This varies person to person/system to system. As previously stated you have the feeling of the world around you not feeling real and the feeling of you yourself not being real. You can also feel both of these at the same time which can be very disorienting. This can lead to struggling to follow conversations or can feel like you're half listening to someone but splitting with out actually splitting your attention externally. It can feel like playing a 1st person video game. It can also feel like not processing information in real time. Dissociation is basically a disconnect from your surrounding, mind, body, emotion, identity, and memories. Dissociation can look like any one of these things on it's own or in combination with another. For us it's typically an emotional dissociation rather than a personal or surrounding feeling. In moments of stress our emotions turn off and we don't really feel things as they happen. If we're lucky, only in hindsight can we break down what we were feeling if at all. This can look like no feelings period or being calm cool and collected only to breakdown later about the stress. For those of us who don't experience a constant state of depersonalization or derealization, dissociating can be easiest to identify after the fact. Dissociation can affect the memories of an event making them difficult to recall or align correctly, something you only notice after the event has passed and you try to recall it, or feeling your emotion switch turn back on and having everything hit you at once but only when you feel safe again, or tuning back into your surrounding and realizing you missed your bus stop. Dissociation can also feel inward. Like you are retreating into you mind. Things may feel far away or even sound far away. If you can hear your headmates talk in your headspace, dissociation can be retreating internally and being pulled into headmate thoughts or conversations. This is one we observe in our partner system. We'll be talking to them and we'll see their eyes glaze over or they don't response and when we grab their attention they'll say something along the lines of "people are being loud" or "people are having big feelings". This kind of dissociating is also what switching can feel like for some.

Look: Not all dissociation is visually identifiable but if it is it typically look like the person not moving, staring off into space, speaking but clearly internally preoccupied, confusion. They may look like they aren't listening or maybe they look a bit lost. They may have a slow response time or may lose track of their thoughts a lot. But for some, like us, they can just look "normal". Looking normal is a survival technique. Some people, like us, were brought up in an environment where fully checking out was not safe. Some people never disconnect from their surrounding because they had to be aware of everything around them all the time. This is valid. The brain is an amazing thing and is capable of multitasking even if that multitasking is being aware of your surroundings while also checking out from them. I do it all the time.

🛸Differences between Dissociating and: - Brain fog: Brain fog is just general confusion and slow thinking and processing. This typically come without feeling like the world or yourself isn't real or difficulty recalling the moments of brain fog or feeling disconnected from your emotions. If one prone to dissociation the feeling brain fog can lead to dissociating. - Being lost in thought: Being lost in thought can be a form of dissociation. However, there is planning your day and then theres dissociating about your day. Planning your day feels like your actively participating in it and dissociating about your day feels like your disconnected from it.

🛸I hope this was helpful! This is what we've gathered knowledge and experience wise on the topic of dissociation. If you have anything else to add pls reblog with your additions so people who need the recourse can see it! If you have any more questions about dissociation or if you need any clarification leave a comment or ask me directly!

REMEMBER: You're gonna be ok. You're gonna figure it out. Be kind and gentle with yourself and others. Asks are open. Have a nice day.