#there are daily games you can play to slowly learn

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

At a certain point blaming the school system for failing to teach you every fact becomes an excuse to absolve yourself from learning on your own time as an adult. Maybe you had bad teachers and curricula, maybe you never did the assigned reading, maybe you were taught propaganda, but it’s okay to start now. It’s okay to learn geography from online games. It’s okay to get entry level books from the library on a subject. It’s okay to explore Wikipedia and other reputable websites as a start. You can learn as an adult. You should continue learning as an adult.

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[foreveradreamaway]

streaming- MV33/1

summary- a compilation of moments from maxs streams

i really loved writing this as i always have small idea that aren’t long enough to be their own post, if you have any small idea that goes with this or just in general then please comment it or send it to me and i will make a part two or another post similar <3

max loved to stream every now and then. he loved the interactions with fans and getting to play with his friends. you also loved when max streamed because it gave you some peace and quiet for a while, it also allowed you to do some house work without max following you like a lost puppy.

you had made numerous appearances in his streams and his fans loved it. probably enjoying seeing you both as actual humans and getting to see how you both live your daily lives together. some fans had made a compilation of the many times you made an appearance in one of maxs streams.

🏎️

max sat in his gaming chair immersed in whatever game he was playing. you needed something from the room he was in and it couldn’t wait.

you opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible and creeped over to the thing you needed. apparently you weren’t quiet enough and he heard you. he moved one side of his headset off his ear.

“sorry, i just needed to grab the end thing for the hoover.” you sheepishly smiled. he only grinned in return. you took this as the opportunity to walk up behind him so you were in the frame.

“what are you playing?” you questioned as your face finally came in shot.

“im playing cod with lando, charles and carlos”

“aww cute” you sent a quick wave to say hello to everyone that was on the other end of the camera. however your eyes were quickly caught by the top of maxs head.

“can they hear me?” you questioned, he nodded. “okay. hello everyone, it’s your favourite person in the world here and i just needed to show you something” max had a confused look on his face as he watched you through the camera, wondering what you were about to show.

your hands reached for each side of the head set that was on his head and slowly removed it and handed it to him. your hands then went to either side of his head and tilted it down.

“max gets really bad headset hair guys and it will literally stay like this for the rest of the day” max’s hands quickly went up to his hair to attempt to fix while you and the chat couldn’t help but laugh.

“shut up” he grumbled as he lifted the head set back onto his head. “love you baby!” you called over your shoulder as you left the room.

“i hate her”

“i heard that!”

🏎️

“mijn liefste, wil je zo pasta? Ik ben er nu een paar aan het maken” you can’t be seen as you poke your head round the door.

“Het gaat goed, dank je schat” he replies while not taking his eyes off the game but removing one side of his headset. “welke pasta ben je aan het maken?”

“i know i’m learning but im not that good yet max” you laugh.

“i said ‘what pasta are you making” he replies, suddenly feeling hunger bubble his stomach.

“i’m not sure yet. are you sure you don’t want any? i’ll surprise you” making food has always been one of your love languages, your mum had shown you to cook as soon as she could and you picked it up quick.

“yeah go on then” he finally turns to you and smiles as you walk away. when he finally turns back he sees the chat filled with questions and people telling him how cute you both are.

“yeah she is learning dutch. i’m teaching her” his face lights up as he talks about you. “it’s very easy for her though because she already knows other languages so she picks it up quickly” his smile never leaving his face.

🏎️

max is looking intensely at the chat in-front of him, reading everything is the chat. answering a couple questions. he does this until he sees a familiar name come up.

“‘answer your phone’ what?” he quickly picks up his phone to see that he has ten missed calls from you. he is quick to call you back.

“max stop putting your phone on do not disturb and silent” you scold. he always did when he was streaming, he always said it was because he didn’t want to be disturbed however sometimes it was important. like now.

“sorry schat.”

“do you want anything from the shop? i’ve already got your m&ms and tomato soup.” max had a soft spot for m&ms and everyone knows about this man’s love of tomato soup.

“no i’m okay thank you baby. what are we having for dinner” max had a massive smile on his face. half because he was talking to you and because he knew how much everyone watching would love the conversation.

“well you’ve got mean prep” you couldn’t help but laugh as max groaned loudly and threw his head back. he hated meal prep. don’t get me wrong he loved being healthy and eating nice food but sometimes he just craved your cooking. “and i’m having a stir fry.”

“ugh whatever. i want stir fry”

“i know baby. ill make you one as soon as your nutritionist will allow me too”

“okay fine. when will you be home?” max kept the phone close to his mic to make sure everyone would be able to hear you on the other end of the phone.

“not long, i took the ferrari so it won’t take me long to get home. i don’t have my keys so be ready to pick up your phone and open the door! okay, i love you bye” you ended the phone call quickly before he could say anything about you taking his car.

“i swear she prefers my cars over her own” he laughed as he read through the chat again.

🏎️

when you moved in with max you demanded that a sofa be put into his gaming/office room. he got you the cosiest sofa he could just to make sure you were comfy. max spent a lot of time in the room and you missed him when he was in there.

before you lived together, you tried to sit on the floor when you were round but you just weren’t comfortable enough so that’s when you demanded a sofa. if max was streaming or just had some admin stuff to do, you would just sit on the sofa and enjoy each-others company.

max was streaming, as per usual, while you sat all snuggled up on the sofa across the room. you had one the comfiest jumper of his that you could find, his joggers, a blanket covering your whole body and tucked under your chin and you glasses that sat on your nose.

max had specifically bought a pair of joggers that were too small for him. one day he came home to see you wearing a pair of his that were far to big for you and when he questioned you, you said that you just enjoy wearing his clothes. so the next day he went and bought a pair that were to small and placed them in his waldrobe. from then on they were yours.

you were also a secret iPad kid at heart. your iPad was literally your prized possession and you took it everywhere with you. now was no different as you sat there with your ipad resting on your legs as you watched tik tok.

“look” you turned the ipad around so that it was facing max, he leant on the arm rest of the chair to get a better view of what you were showing him. it was a cat.

“we should get sassy and jimmy one” he laughed as you nodded. he sat back into his chair and caught what the chat were saying. many people asking where you were.

he grabbed the camera from its holder and turned it to face you, showing you under the blanket. he got up out his chair and moved to sit next to you on the sofa.

“you are actually such an old man” you laughed as he struggled to hold the camera so that it would get a view of both of you. “give it to me” you took the camera from his hand and wrapped your other arm around his neck to bring him closer to you.

“hey guys, it’s your favourite person in the world here” the camera now had a perfect view of both of you as you put a quick peace sign up to the camera. you quickly nudged max and his fingers quickly went to the same position as yours. “i want to show you all my outfit, hold this baby” you handed the camera to max and threw the blanket onto him as you stood from your seat.

“max, show them my whole body my love” you laughed as he was only showing the camera your legs. “i’m trying Schat” you leant forward a bit and moved maxs hand so it faced where it should be.

“okay so my glasses are from specsavers, they are the only people i trust with my glasses. even if i need a new pair i would rather fly home than get a pair from anywhere else. because if they messed my glasses up i would just hear my mum in my ear saying ‘should have gone to specsavers’. my jumper is maxs- where is this jumper from?” you questioned him.

“umm its a zara one i think”

“okay so the jumper is from zara and these joggers are from nike. can i even say that? do they even sponsor you?” max’s laugh could be heard from behind the camera before he replies. “yeah it’s okay. i think” his face fell into a sheepish grin behind the camera.

“my socks are from god knows where. and the blanket is from also god knows where.” you gave the camera a big smile as you fell back into your previous position.

“you are the new version of maxplaining”

“shut up”

🏎️

“can we play fifa?” you were sat on the floor, cross legged, next to max while he sat in his gaming chair. “you only want to play fifa because you always beat me” he huffed.

“exactly” you grinned at him.

[jinxedbychaos]

Echoes of Insanity Ch. 2

Bound by Chaos

No summary as I'm not good with those

Jinx (Powder) x Twin sister

Past-

Playing by the canals of Zaun, I chase after Powder, her laughter coming out as she zigzag around me, trying to stay just out of reach. The clouded water glistens in the dull light, the distant sound of Zaun's factories a familiar sound in our daily lives. Vi sits on a rock nearby, her eyes never leaving us, a small smile on her face as she observes.

vi's in charge while our parents are at work, and even though she tries to put a tough front, she cares about keeping us safe.

Suddenly, Powder darts behind me, determined to catch up to me. I try to run faster, but my foot catches on a rock hidden in the dirt. making me fall to the ground. pain stings through my knees as I land hard, scraping them raw. tears start to fall off my eyes, and I can't help but let out a chocked sob.

Powder gasps, immediately scared that she might have hurt me. "Ash! I-I didn't mean to, I was just tryin to catch you!" She speaks in a shaky, panicked voice.

Vi already besides us "It's okay, Pow. Accidents happen" Vi says, glancing at her, then back at me with a reassuring smile. "besides some scraped knees wont stop Ash, right Ash?"

you sniffle, wiping away the tears and nodding slowly. Vi grabs a piece of tissue out of her pocket an gently starts cleaning the blood off my knees. She leans in blowing some air on the scrapes like our mom does when we get hurt. "See? all better".

Powder shuffles closer, still looking guilty. She reaches for my hand, her lip quivering. "I'm sorry, Asha. I didn't mean to…" Her eyes shiny with unshed tears, and i can see how guilty she feels.

i squeeze her hand, giving her a small, watery smile. "I-it's okay , powder" I mumble, trying to reassure her. feeling a little more steady now that Vi's taken care of me.

Vi stands and offers her hand to us. "come on, why don't we go home. I'll teach you a new game on the way" she says with a smile, her tone light, trying to lift our spirits.

I grab her hand, already feeling the excitement bubbling inside me at the thought of learning something new from Vi, Powder clings to the other hand.

The scrape on my knee long forgotten, as I follow my sisters, even in the bad times, being together makes everything feel just right again. Vi squeezes our hands, pulling us gently along, and I can't help but feel safe and loved, all the pain fading away under the warmth of their presence.

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

Present-

Vi uncovers a large garbage pipe hidden in the ground and quickly scans the area for enforcers.

"Oh, man, not again! I just got this shirt-" Mylo whines, but he's cut off as Vi shoves him into the pipe with a swif kick. Claggor follows, then Powder and me, with Vi coming last.

We slide through the dirty, narrow pipe, letting out startled yelps as we descend. At the end, we tumble into a pile of garbage in an underground disposal area.

"Thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this." Mylo grumbles, pulling a piece of trash out of his hair.

"Well, this time's the last time." Vi replies

"Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?" Claggor ask, still looking a bit shaken.

everyone suddenly turn to face powder and me. surprised by the accusation, we both try to defend ourselves.

"We didn't do anything!" Powder blurts out. "We didn't touch anything!" I quickly add.

"you could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do" Mylo snaps, glaring at us.

Just as I'm about to fire back, Vi cuts in.

"Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses" She climb out the pile of garbage "so, if you're done beating yourselves up, let's get this home"

We walk thtough the dimly lit disposal area until we find a trapdoor in the ceiling Vi drags some boxes with the help of Claggor an climb up, pushing the door open. she helps Powder and me out first, Then follows.

We step out onto the streets of Zaun, unaware of the two boys following us. As we pass by a boy casually rolling a barrel back and forth with his foot, he smirks. "nice haul?" he asks.

"you could say that" Mylo replies, looking smug.

Vi shoot Mylo a disapproving glare.

"I heard there was some action across the river" the boy continues, flipping a coin between his fingers.

"is that so?" Vi replies, about to move on, but two boys suddenly appear in front of us, blocking the way.

"But now you're, you're tracking this mess of yours through my streets." the boy says

"your streets? what makes you think-" Vi starts to snap, but Claggor quickly interrupts

"listen, we don't want any trouble, okay?" Claggor says, trying to defuse the situation.

One of the boys smirks "hear that, Deckard? They don't want any trouble."

"you know, in my experience trouble finds you" Deckard say, signaling toward Vi. "There's no reason this has to get ugly. How about you share a little taste of your treasure there, and we'll call it even?"

"No, no, no We worked to hard to-" Mylo starts, but Vi cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder before stepping forward to face Deckard.

Taking the bag off her shoulder, Vi asks "just a taste?"

"just a taste-" Deckard begins, but before he can finish, Vi swing the bag into his face, knocking him to the ground.

I jump, startled, and I can feel Powder do the same. suddenly, Vi tosses the bag at us, Powder grabbing it.

"huh" Mylo and Claggor grunt in unison, snapping into action and getting ready to fight.

Deckard groans and pushes himself up, his expression turning fierce. one of his friends rushes to Mylo, shoving him to the ground and starts landing punches.

Powder and I watch in shock, taking a few steps back, trying to distance ourselves from the chaos.

Claggor quickly moves in, shoving the boy off Mylo, but on the other side, deckard lunges at Vi, throwing wild punches. She fights back, each hit landing with brutal force.

Powder and I stand frozen, watching in horror as the fight unfolds. I see Powder fall to the ground, sitting back in fear.

Claggor punches one of the man in the face, throwing him back. he crashes to the ground right in front of us, his eyes locking onto ours and then the bag. Panic floods through me, and I grab Powder's arm "Run" I shout. Powders puts the bag around her and we run down an alley, the thug chasing after us.

back in the street, Vi, Claggor and Mylo are still fighting. unaware that we've taken off. Vi manages to knock Deckard to the ground, while Claggor is shoved against a wall. He grabs a handful of dirt and throws it to the face of the thug. The boy stumbles, and Claggor takes the opportunity to bring him down.

Meanwhile, Mylo is struggling beneath another thug, taking punch after punch. Vi rushes to his aid, grabbing a wooden plank and smashing it over the guy's head, knocking him out cold. the three of them stand, bruised but victorious, ready to leave the scene.

As they begin to walk away, Deckard, clutching his side, stumbles to his feet and pulls out a knife. "wait!" he says in pain.

Vi turns around, stepping closer to him. she leans down, staring him dead in the eyes. "wanna se how that ends?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous.

Deckard meets her gaze but says nothing, staggering back as he decides against pushing further.

Vi straightens up and glances around, realizing something "Where's Powder and Ash?" she asks her voice tense.

Meanwhile, Powder and I sprint through the narrow alley, not daring to look back, our breath coming in ragged gasps as we keep running, fear driving us forward.

We threw some crates in the way, desperately trying to slow the boy chasing us. "Oh! You little…" he grunted as he stumbled but kept running.

We darted through the cluttered alley, our breath heavy and frantic. When we reached a dead end blocked by boxes, we quickly hide behind a wall, trying to quiet our panting. Powder clutched the bag tightly, just we it seems like the boy might turn the other way. we accidentally knocked over a wooden plank.

"No, no, no, no!" I whispered, trying to grab the plank before it fell but it hit the ground with a loud bang.

Making the boy tur toward the noise.

Panic flooded me as I searched for any scape. Powder, clutching Mouser, quickly started loading it with nails, her hand shaking. A few nails falling to the ground. "Come on, Mouser, I need you!" she whispered urgently, her voice trembling.

I glance back at her, heart pounding, as she throws Mouser toward the boy's feet. We both held our breath, watching, hopping for a miracle. The parts turning and clicking together… then pink smoke burst out with a small pop.

disbelief crossing our face as the makeshift bomb failed. The boy smirked and started walking toward us, his eyes locked onto the bag.

We back away scared, our backs hitting the railing. In a split second decision, I unclipped the bag from Powder and I throw it into the river, the boy goes to grab it but fails and watches as the bag sinks.

As the boy is distracted, I grab my sister's hand and we bolted, weaving through the alleys, running as fast as we could until we finally reached the meeting spot. Vi, Claggor and Mylo were already waiting for us.

"Powder! Ash!" Vi called out when she saw us, and we ran straight to into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Where's the bag?" Mylo ask, looking around, concern quickly filling his face as he realized it wasn't with us. Vi glanced at us too, frowning.

Still catching my breath, I stutter "He… he was following us" "He was going to catch us." Powder ads.

"I-i threw it into the river." i say with guilt.

"You did what?!" Mylo yelled, his frustration boiling over.

"we're sorry" Powder and I say in unison, both of us felling the weight of our mistake. Powder looked down, her voice small as she speaks "I tried to stop him with Mouser, but… it didn't work."

"Who saw that coming?" Mylo shots back, putting his arm up.

"doesn't matter. The stuff's gone" Vi interrupted "at least least you two are okay" she said softly, putting a hand on our shoulders.

Vi walks over to the building's door and pushes it open.

"Okay? what about us?" Mylo complained. "I get my face bashed in, and the just get a pass?" He continues as well all stepped inside.

"yup" Vi replies flatly, closing the door behind us.

We crowded into the old elevator. Vi lowered the lever, turning the flickering lights on as we began our descent into the Undercity.

Powder and I leaned against the railing, the weight of guilt heavy on our shoulders. Mylo still fuming.

"Every time" Mylo grumbled, glaring at us "Every time they come, something goes wrong." he pointed at our direction "They just jinx every job"

Powder and I are about to defend ourselves when Vi cuts in.

"Just drop it Mylo" Vi says, starring straight ahead as the elevator slower to a stop. The doors cracked open, and she pulled her hood up, stepping out into the streets of the Undercity.

We follow her, weaving through the crowded streets filled with vendors and people. At one of the stalls, Mylo steals some fruit from a sleeping merchant, stuffing it into his pocket with a smirk.

we continued down the streets until we reached The Last Drop. without a word Vi pushes the door open, and we all slipped inside.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Ch. 1 - Ch. 3

There should be another chapter by Sunday.

Don't forget to leave likes and to repost

[istharoth]

In love with a 2-D Character?! Mortkranken Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

↪ Yuri Isami:

Boy oh boy, he does not play games but it's a game which includes anomalies? Something his occult (in this AU) self is intrigued by? He's definitely picking up the game

Obviously, at first glance he knows you're a great doctor, just like him, so he selects you.

You like Classical Music too? Hello?! He's longing for the day you become real because you're everything he needs.

Someone he can speak to on an intellectual level (and possibly learn from?) he's not going to let that chance go!

He also probably likes Jin's favourite character but you dislike them. So what? He likes them so that doesn't matter. (though he's a bit curious to know about the animosity)

He's the kind of person who would slowly change his habits into yours

Oh, that brief mention of your coffee/tea order? Yeah, that's his daily drink now.

Oh you like chemistry? Guess you and him have chemistry *wink wonk*

Isn't big on merch I feel but also gives collector vibes.

Let's go with the latter, he's a collector. Merch? He's going to get it.

He likely started the game later, so he missed out on some official merch. He's looking everywhere for that limited merch

HE NEEDS TO GET HIS HANDS ON THEM

If not, you'd be disappointed, and he'd be disappointed.

Intensely in love with you, definitely has a shrine of you.

Was squealing when you and he held hands. HELLO?! BEFORE MARRIAGE?!?

Has mediocre luck overall but calculates how much he needs to get you and efficiently gets you. (by not pulling on other character banners)

He's trying to get your SR maxed out, also will not listen to people who say a certain set is better for you. No. whatever goes with your colour scheme is best for you.

↪ Jiro Kirisaki:

Does not play games. Even if he does, forgets to log in.

Very easygoing, and likely doesn't have the story completed but feeds on fan stuff.

I feel like he wouldn't like the entire nurse x doctor thing in fics because it reminds him too much of his own job and he wants to relax. (To all the doctors and nurses out there, we appreciate you in this household.)

Coffee shop AU? Possible. "And they were roommates?" Maybe. College AU where you both have different majors but come across each other one too many times and have the same friend group but you're intensely awkward around him? YES. (but that's my preference)

Selects you as his first choice!! YEAH and pulls on all the banners cause he literally couldn't care who he gets.

*Cue SSR* "...okay, anyway." *does a 10 pull on the other banner*

Goes to cons only to come home with a thousand less bucks than he started with.

Generally likes your voice, and has a playlist of the songs your voice actor has covered. He's hoping they can cover some of his favourite songs.

You know that one Turning Red scene where the MC is drawing herself and that guy at the store? YEAH. THAT'S HIM.

Except his yume is faceless, and he doesn't post any of it online.

Definitely respects you, even if you're just a character in a game. Also! Has a fan account, but he rarely ever uses it. It's just there to retweet fanart of you + official pictures cause he loves you.

Prev [Obscuary] [Case Closed]

[biggestsimp12]

Ticci Toby x Childhood friend genderfluid Reader We'll meet again...Some sunny day..

requested by: no one. I just had a dream last night this scenario and NEEDED to write it down. (the requests in my inbox can wait a little more hehe.)

--–—

(I know this song is about war but the part with the ''We'll meet again, don't know when, don't where. but i know we'll meet again some sunny day..'' matches a part of the story i have in mind-)

--–—

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the playground. Toby, a small figure with unruly hair and a slightly crooked smile, clutched a worn teddy bear. He was five years old, and every day at kindergarten felt like navigating a minefield. The laughter of the other children rang out, but it was a sound that brought him no joy. For Toby, the playground was a stage for his daily struggle, a place where he was both audience and performer in a play he never wanted to star in. The sudden jerks of his body and the strange words that slipped from his mouth when he was upset made him an easy target for their teasing. Yet, amidst the sea of unkindness, Toby remained hopeful, a beacon of innocence in a world that was slowly learning to be cruel.

He sat on the edge of a wooden bench, the paint chipped and faded from countless summers of use. The teacher had placed him there after another failed attempt to integrate him into a game of tag. His eyes darted around the playground, watching as the children squealed and ran, their shadows stretching long on the yellowing grass. Toby's chest tightened as he wished he could join them, but he knew better than to try again. They had made it clear that his peculiarities were not welcome.

As the laughter grew louder, a stray soccer ball sailed through the air, propelled by the clumsy kick of a child too eager to hit their target. It headed straight for Toby, a silent missile of rubber and plastic. His instincts took over, his arms shooting up to catch it before it could smack into his face. The sudden movement sent a spasm through his body, his muscles tightening like a bowstring. He threw the ball back without looking, a reflexive reaction to the fear that had become all too familiar.

The group of kids who had been playing nearby froze. Their giggling ceased, and their eyes locked onto Toby. He knew that look, the one that said he had done something wrong again. They approached him, a pack of hyenas closing in on their prey. The biggest kid, Billy, a towering figure in Toby's eyes, stepped forward. "Why'd you throw it back, weirdo?" he sneered, his teeth glinting in the fading light.

Before Toby could respond, a small, unassuming figure stepped in front of him. It was Y/N, a kid from his class who rarely spoke up. They was the kind that hovered at the edge of groups, never quite fitting in, but always observing with a gentle curiosity. Their eyes were wide and their voice trembled as they faced Billy. "Leave him alone," they whispered, their fists balled at their sides.

Billy, caught off guard, took a step back. He looked from Toby to Y/N and then to his friends, who had also stopped in their tracks. Billy barked a laugh, his eyes glinting with malice. "What are you gonna do about it?" he taunted, his chest puffing out.

But Y/N didn't flinch. They held their ground, their small body a sudden mountain between Toby and the looming threat. "I said, leave him alone," they repeated, voice a little stronger this time. Billy's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the unexpected challenge. Then, with a snort of disbelief, he turned and stomped away, his pack of followers trailing behind him like a shadow retreating from the light.

Toby stared after them, his heart racing in his chest. He looked down at Y/N, whose hand was still outstretched as if to ward off the bully. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice thick with relief. Y/N nodded, their gaze darting to the ground before looking back up at him with a tentative smile. "Are you okay?" they asked, the words echoing with genuine concern.

Without waiting for a response, Y/N reached into their pocket and pulled out a small bag of Haribo gummy bears. "Here," they said, holding it out to Toby. "My mommy gave them to me. I don't like them much as i like peach gummy rings better, but I thought maybe you would."

Toby took the bag with trembling hands, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Thanks," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a few of the bears and sat back down on the bench, expecting Y/N to leave now that the danger had passed. But to his surprise, they sat down beside him, their legs swinging in unison with his.

"I'm Y/N," they said, their voice soft and unassuming. "What's your name?" Toby looked over at them, the first time he had really seen them up close. They had a smattering of freckles across their nose and a mop of hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in days. There was something endearing about their disheveled appearance, something that made him feel less alone.

"Toby," he replied, his voice still shaky. He took a deep breath and popped a gummy bear into his mouth, the sweetness washing over his tongue.

Y/N giggled at the sight. "I'm so happy to meet you, Toby," they said, their eyes lighting up. "You know what happens if you eat too many of these?" They leaned in conspiratorially, their breath smelling faintly of mint. "I heard that if you eat a whole bag of gummy bears, your boogers will turn into gummy worms!"

Toby's eyes went wide with a mix of horror and fascination. He looked down at the bag in his hand as if it contained the secrets of the universe. The idea was ludicrous, but at five years old, reality was still a malleable thing, and Y/N's imagination was as vast as the playground around them. He took another gummy bear, turning it over in his fingers. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N nodded solemnly, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, my cousin did it. She had these huge gummy bears stuck in her nose!" And with that, they proceeded to demonstrate, pushing two of the small, squishy candies up their nostrils. Toby watched, his jaw dropping as the gummy bears disappeared, one after the other.

Then, without warning, Y/N's expression changed. They began to make strange, guttural noises that sounded like a cross between a T-Rex and a choking kazoo. Toby's eyes widened in surprise as they leaned over and started tickling him, their fingers like tiny feathers dancing over his ribs and belly. "It's the Haribo Gummy Boss!" they exclaimed, their voice a mix of laughter and the prehistoric sounds. "They've taken over my mind!"

Toby squealed and squirmed, his body convulsing with giggles. Without thinking, Toby bolted, his legs pumping as he squealed like a little girl, the bag of gummy bears forgotten on the bench. Y/N followed, their dinosaur noises growing louder and more ferocious as they pretended to be the terrifying Gummy Boss in hot pursuit. The chase was on, and it was all in good fun, the kind of fun that didn't care about the stares of the other children or the rules of the games they didn't understand.

As they darted around the playground, dodging swings and sliding to a halt at the bottom of the slide, Toby felt something new, something he hadn't felt in a long time—joy. The kind of joy that didn't come from being the fastest or the strongest, but from the simple act of playing with someone who didn't care about his flaws. Someone who saw him not as the kid who talked to himself and had weird tics, but as a fellow adventurer fighting off imaginary monsters made of sugar and gelatin.

~

"Why do you have to move out?" His voice was soft, almost lost in the rustling leaves above them.

Now, at sixteen, Toby's tics had become less pronounced, but the whispers and glances from his peers remained. Y/N had grown into a gentle young person, their quiet strength unshaken by the passage of time. They had always been there to protect Toby, their loyalty unwavering. So, the idea of them leaving didn't sit well with him at all.

Y/N sighed, their eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for the right words. "Someone broke into our house," they finally said, their voice laced with a sadness that was palpable. "Mom and Dad have to fix a lot of stuff. We can't stay there right now. At least, I can't stay there now. I have to stay with my grandparents for a while."

Toby's heart sank. He knew what it was like to leave a place because it didn't feel safe anymore. His own father had a temper, one that had often left bruises hidden beneath his clothes. The thought of Y/N being torn from their home, from him, was too much to bear. "But, you can't just go," he protested, his voice cracking. "What about school?"

Y/N looked at him, their eyes filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "I'm gonna be home-schooled until I can go back," they said softly. "It's only for a little while. Lyra promised me she will take care of your bullies until then." But the way their voice trailed off told Toby that they didn't believe it any more than he did. They had always been the one constant in his life, the one person who didn't treat him like he was made of glass. Now, they were being taken away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"But when?" Toby pressed, desperation creeping into his voice. "When will we meet again?"

Y/N looked at him, their eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored the clouds gathering above. "We'll meet again…don't know when…don't know where," they admitted. "But I promise, Toby, I know we'll meet again.." They reached out and squeezed his hand, a silent promise that no distance could break.

Toby tried to smile, but it was like trying to hold back a storm. "Okay," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "Some sunny day, right?" He tried to cling to the hope in those words, to the idea that no matter how dark the clouds looked now, the sun would always find a way to shine through.

Y/N nodded, a tear slipping down their cheek. "Some sunny day," they echoed, their voice equally as soft. And with that, they turned and walked away, their shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of the world. Toby watched them go, feeling a part of himself leave with them.

In the months that followed, everything felt even more isolating without Y/N's presence. Billy and his band of bullies grew bolder, their jeers and shoves a constant reminder of Toby's aloneness. His father's alcohol-fueled rages grew more frequent, the house a minefield of shattered glass and slammed doors. Even Lyra, his fiercely protective sister, couldn't shield him from the harsh realities that seemed to close in around him like the shadows of a closing curtain.

Then, one fateful evening, Toby's world shifted on its axis. He and Lyra had decided to escape the tension at home with a rare nighttime drive. The wind whipped through the car windows, carrying the sweet scent of blooming lilacs and the distant hum of the city. The radio played a soft melody that seemed to soothe the chaos within them, a temporary balm for the storms they weathered.

Toby's eyes were glued to the road ahead, lost in thought about Y/N. He barely registered the car's drift onto the gravel shoulder. The sudden jolt snapped him back to reality, just in time to see the tree rushing towards them, a silent sentinel in the dark. The world spun into a blur of metal and glass, the sickening crunch of impact echoing through his mind. The airbag deployed with a violent pop, stealing his breath.

In the weeks that followed, Toby's heart felt as shattered as the glass that had showered him that night. He retreated into himself, the once-vibrant boy now a ghostly shadow. His laughter was replaced by silence, his appetite by a void that no food could fill. His eyes held a faraway look, as if searching for something just beyond the horizon of his vision. The only thing that remained was the pain, a constant reminder of what had been lost.

The days grew shorter, and the nights grew longer, filled with the echoes of machines and the smell of antiseptic. The hospital walls closed in around him, a prison of white and beige, a stark contrast to the colorful world he had once known. Every time he tried to recall Y/N's face, it was like grasping at smoke, slipping through his fingers. The memories grew hazier, as if someone had taken an eraser to the pages of his life.

Then, the hallucinations began. Figments of his imagination playing cruel tricks on his fragile mind. He'd see Y/N standing outside his hospital room window, their hand pressed against the glass, their smile as bright as the day they had met. But when he'd look again, they were gone, replaced by the cold, unfeeling stare of the world beyond. And then there were the nights, when the hospital was at its quietest, and the only sounds were the whispers of the nurses and the beeps of the machines. He'd see Lyra, her spirit lingering in the halls, her eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored his own. Her corpse was a twisted reminder of the night that had changed everything, a specter that haunted his dreams and his waking moments.

The voices grew louder... They spoke of injustice and vengeance, urging him to right the wrongs that had been done. They whispered sweet nothings of release and peace, painting a picture of a world without pain, without fear. Toby's mother, her eyes red-rimmed and desperate, took him to a psychiatrist, hoping that medicine and therapy could mend what was broken. But the doctor's calm demeanor and gentle probing only served to fuel the flames of anger and despair that raged within him.

One night, as he lay in his bed, the vision of Lyra grew clearer than ever before. She stood at the foot of his bed, her eyes filled with a fierce determination that made his heart race. "You have to do it," she whispered, her voice echoing through his mind. "For me. For us. For all the nights we cried together." The room grew cold, the air thick with the weight of her unspoken words.

The voices grew louder, more insistent, weaving a tapestry of anger and grief. They painted a picture of a world where the scales of justice had been tipped by the cruel hand of fate, where the only way to set things right was to take matters into his own hands. The whispers grew into a cacophony, a symphony of vengeance that filled every corner of his being. He knew what he had to do.

With a swiftness that belied his fear, Toby plunged the axe into his father's chest. The man's eyes shot open, his face contorted in shock and pain. A garbled cry was the only sound that escaped his lips before they went slack, his lifeblood staining the bed sheets a deep crimson. Toby stared, unable to comprehend the reality of what he had done. The voices grew louder, screaming in triumph, urging him to complete the purge.

He moved through the house with the precision of a predator, setting fires in each room, watching the flames dance and grow. The heat grew intense, the smoke thick, stinging his eyes and filling his lungs.

He stumbled through the smoke, his eyes burning and his lungs filled with the acrid scent of burning wood. His father's lifeless body lay behind him, a grim testament to his rage. The heat grew unbearable, licking at his skin like the flaming tongue of a dragon. His breath came in ragged gasps, the smoke stealing the oxygen from the air.

But amidst the chaos, he heard it—a voice that cut through the roar of the fire like a knife. "Toby!" It was Y/N, their voice a beacon in the dark. He turned, his vision swimming, and saw them standing outside through the bedroom window, their face contorted with fear and desperation.

Y/N had come to visit, not knowing what they would find. They had felt something was wrong, an instinct that had driven them across town to Toby's house. The sight of the flames had filled them with dread, and they had sprinted through the smoky halls, calling his name. Now, as they watched Toby's silhouette collapse, the world around them seemed to melt away.

~~

Three years had passed since the fire. Toby had survived, but the voices had never truly left him. His eyes darted around, searching for the one that Slenderman had sent him to find.

On the day of the fire, amidst the chaos and the smoke, he had seen a figure—tall, thin, and dressed in black. It had moved with an unnatural grace, the shadows seeming to bend around it. The figure had reached out a long, pale hand and pulled him through the flames, saving him from the inferno he had created, making him his proxy in exchange. In the aftermath, Toby's memory was a jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces he wasn't bothering to find anymore.

Now, as the moon cast a silver path along the river, he saw a silhouette. The figure was small, almost delicate, with a gait that seemed familiar. His hand tightened around the handle of the hatchet, the metal cold and unforgiving. As he approached, the silhouette grew clearer, the outline of a person walking with their head bowed, lost in thought. The voices in his head grew louder, urging him to complete his task, to serve Slenderman without question.

But as he stepped into the moonlight, Toby's heart skipped a beat. The figure looked up, their eyes wide and filled with confusion. And then, like a puzzle piece snapping into place, he realized it was Y/N. The years had changed them, but the kindness in their eyes remained the same.

Y/N squinted, trying to make out the person approaching them. "Who's there?" they called out, their voice trembling. "What do you want?"

Toby froze, the hatchet heavy in his hand. The mask he wore to conceal his identity from the townsfolk who feared him was now a barrier between him and the one person who had ever truly seen him. He took a step closer, the moonlight glinting off the lenses of his goggles. "It's me," he said, his voice gruff from disuse. "It's Toby."

Y/N stopped, their breath hitching in their throat. They took a tentative step forward, their eyes searching his face, looking for the little boy they had once known. Slowly, they reached out and pulled the goggles from his face, revealing the hazel eyes that had held so much innocence in the past.

"Toby?" They chuckled in disbelief, their eyes watering as they said, "We finally met again. But not on a sunny day, huh?"

Toby's body twitched, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the fragments of their conversation. The hatchet felt foreign in his hand, a tool of a life he couldn't remember choosing. He nodded, the motion stiff and unnatural. "Yeah," he murmured, the word barely leaving his lips. "Y/N, right?"

Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for a spark of recognition that wasn't there. They nodded, the corners of their mouth turning down slightly. They stepped closer, their arms wrapping around him in a fierce embrace. Toby's body tensed for a moment, unused to the warmth of human contact, and then he melted into it, finding himself hugging back, the hatchet forgotten at his side.

When they pulled away, Y/N led him to the river's edge, the water splashing slightly at the shore. They sat down on the cool grass, the soft fabric of their shirt brushing against his worn clothes. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the promise of rain. Y/N took a deep breath and turned to him, their voice quieter now. "Remember when we used to sit here and gossip?"

Toby's eyes searched theirs, desperate to find a connection, but the fog of his memories remained. He nodded, even though he couldn't recall those moments. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words sticking in his throat. "I don't remember much.

Y/N gave a sad smile, patting his hand gently. "It's okay," they said. "You don't have to remember everything. We're here now." They picked at the blades of grass, their fingers deftly weaving them into a chain. "But do you remember the day you caught the soccer ball?"

Toby nodded, the memory a flicker in the back of his mind. "The day you protected me from Billy," he murmured.

Y/N looked at him, their eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I didn't just do it because you were my friend," they confessed. "I did it because I had a crush on you, Toby. I've had one for as long as I can remember. Though I was too much of a coward to tell you at least on the day Ieft. What happened to you after I left is still unknown to me, but I want to apologise for any pain that I caused you. Emotionally, I mean, since you can't feel phisical pain."

Toby stared at them, his eyes widening. He had never thought of Y/N in that way, not really. They had always been his protector, his confidant, but love? The concept was as foreign to him as the words that had just been spoken. The voices in his head fell silent, their whispers replaced by the thundering of his heart.

Y/N's cheeks flushed, their eyes darting away from his. They picked up a pebble and tossed it into the river, watching the ripples spread. "I know it's weird," they murmured. "But I had to tell you."

Toby sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Y/N's words pressing down on him. He didn't know how to feel, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn't let Y/N get hurt. "You have to go," he said, his voice urgent. "They're looking for innocent people. If they find you here with me, they won't hold back."

Y/N frowned, their confusion deepening. "What are you talking about?" they asked, their voice trembling. "Who's looking?"

But Toby was beyond words. His eyes grew wild, the voices in his head screaming at him to protect Y/N. In a split second, he made a decision that would haunt him for the rest of his days. With a trembling hand, he raised the hatchet, the cold wood heavy with the weight of his fear. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'm s-so sorry."

With a swing that was more a plea than an act of violence, he brought the handle of the hatchet down on Y/N's head. The sound of impact was muffled by the thunder of his own pulse in his ears. Y/N's eyes rolled back, their body going limp as they slumped to the ground, but quickly being caught by Toby.

~~~

When Y/N woke up again, their head was pounding and their ears ringing. The cold, damp earth of the woods was replaced by the familiar scent of their own bedroom, the darkness pierced by the moonlight streaming through an open window. They sat up with a gasp, their hand flying to the tender spot on their head. It was sore, but there was no blood, no wound. They looked around, their heart racing, trying to piece together what had happened.

The last thing they remembered was the feel of the hatchet handle connecting with their skull. But here they were, in their own bed, dressed in the same clothes they had been wearing when they had found Toby—or thought they had. They reached over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp, the soft glow casting shadows across the room.

There, on the nightstand, lay a crumpled piece of paper. Y/N picked it up, their trembling hand smoothing out the wrinkles. The handwriting was messy, a scrawl that looked as though it had been etched by a child. Yet, there was something eerily familiar about it. Their heart sank as they read the words:

"Never walk in the woods alone at night again unless you have some death wish. Meet me tomorrow at 4 p.m. at the tree with lots of centipedes on it. You should recognize it by the bzbzbzbz sound they do. Cya."

Yep, definitely not a dream-

--–—

The end <3

—–--

bonus:

(a rather ugly lazy sketch made by me with my new phone's pen that i don't know how to use-)

--–—

(Sorry if he seemed too OC or anything like that, I tried to keep him on the slightly canon track-)

[barcalover86]

loved your jealous gavi fic .

Could we get a angry bird gavi fic where his always moody but reader knows how to deal with it 🥺

Thank youu!

Masterlist

Pablo was always in no mood when he would lose a game, knowing that it was somehow his fault after all, which often that wasn't the case.

You learned that your boyfriend needs time to calm down and then you can go talk to him.

The truth is that he isn't calming down before he touches you in some way. Holding your hand, feeling your fingers playing with his..

You had some type of magic in you. Your eyes could make him get lost, and your voice would make him stop everything he is doing to listen to you.

Now, it was one of those days when he was really moody. It wasn't really because he lost the game, but also because some players would have told him something that really bothered him.

You didn't live in the same place, but decided to go to his after Lewa called you to tell you that your boy is not feeling too well. You wanted to make him feel better and stopped somewhere to buy some food for both of you.

You were standing at his house in Barcelona with food in one hand, and in the other a picture of him with a pen.

It was really late, and you texted Gavi right before the match that you are going to sleep earlier because you have some things to do tomorrow morning. He saw the text and only decided to say back one good night, hoping to see you soon.

You managed to knock on the door with all your things in your hands, and after 3 or 4 minutes, you saw your boy with a tired and sleepy face opening the door.

When he saw you standing right there, he immediately smiled and took the food from your hands.

"Holaa!" you said childish.

"Amorrr" he said after putting the food down and going for a hug.

"If my favorite player isn't too tired right now, could he sign me something?"

When he saw the picture of him and the pen from your hand, he chuckled.

"Ayyy, for sure, cariño, but come in first."

You laughed and came into his house. Now, that you could see him better, he wasn't tired anymore. His eyes were sparkling. He was only wearing some shorts and when he hugged you again, your cold hands on his warm body made him shiver a bit.

"Lo siento!" you chuckled.

He kissed you and then he started to ask a lot of questions. "How did you get here?" or "Why are you here?" or " Are you cold?" and a lot more. You answered him honestly and then sat at his table to eat the food you bought.

"You still didn't sign my picture!"

He immediately took it in his hands and signed it before he went to you to kiss you all over your face to sign you too.

You were laughing hard. He was always like this when he saw you after a bad game, and you were thankful that he wasn't that type of boyfriend who was letting his anger on you.

"So, why were you moody with your teammates, cariño?"

He sighed and explained all to you. How did he behave to his teammates, and how did he get angry because of some player. He blamed himself again for the loss, saying that he didn't play like he wanted tonight.

You explained to him that your teammates are as sad as he is, and having a bad behaviour with them wasn't going to make things better, but even worse. You told him that some games are better and some are the opposite, because even the best one have to lose sometimes to not get bored of just winning.

At that, he slowly laughed and promised to you that tomorrow when they had training, to go and apologise to his friends.

After you ate, you went to sleep because you knew how tired Pablo was. You cuddled, and the next morning, you two had to go to your daily tasks.

He went to training and apologised like he promised before being teased by his teammates that you are the only one who can calm him down. He was really thankful for having you in his life and smiled proudly that you were his and he was yours.

I don't know if this is exactly how you wanted, but I hope that you liked it.

[ladylooch]

I’ll paint the scene for tonight! The Devils are playing but Captain Nico isn’t and he isn’t traveling to Long Island to see the guys, however, he is inviting some of the guys over (or not) but he is watching the game because he feels that is his duty as captain to watch and support everyone. But you have been missing the captain, as you went from spending every day together to him having daily training sessions and actual games, and you’re in the mood! But he refuses to pay attention because of the guys and his “commitment” and you do what every petty girlie would and tease the fuck out of him… 😂😂 you can continue I just enjoy imagining Nico sweating for it!

Ohhh captan Nico… always focused on his captain duties and not on you. When will he learns? Maybe tonight 😈

Twice.

That’s how many times you and Nico have had sex since he returned from Switzerland. You had gone to visit for 6 weeks during the summer, but eventually had to return home to your job. As much as Nico begs you to quit, you’re not comfortable relying on him for your survival… yet.

Nico sits on the couch with an iPad, making little notes every so often as his team plays without him. He is perfectly healthy, but they wanted to give rest to the NHL roster for the last pre-season game against the Isles. 

You thought, this would mean you were going to get lucky, completely forgetting about the burning responsibility Nico feels for his team, whether he is on the ice or not.

Annoyed with his lack of attention, you clear your throat from where you stand in the hallway.

“Hm?” Nico mumbles without looking at you. Your lingerie is too damn sexy for him to be so disrespectful. 

“Babe.” You murmur, looking down at your plumped breasts then back to his face. He begrudgingly takes his eyes from the screens. His mouth drops open when he sees all the peeks of your skin between the garters and silk. 

“Holy shit.” He moans, licking his lips and tossing his iPad. You slowly step forward. You drag your fingers along the swells of your cleavage until his focus is completely off the game. He reaches for your hips as you come to straddle him. His hands immediately go to your ass. His long fingers pull your cheeks apart, working his hard erection against your folds. 

“They score!!!!!” The announce booms behind you. Nico’s eyes drift around your body. You grip his chin, bringing his brown gaze to yours and making him absorb your tongue.

“You look at that game again, I’m walking outside like this to see if there are any other takers.”

“Babe.” He whines, melting into the couch as you rock your hips.

“The boys…”

“Aren’t going to choke on your dick tonight.” His eyes sparkle, slight smirk tugging a corner of his lips up.  

“No, they aren’t.” He agrees, nostrils wide as he watches you crawl, one leg at a time, to rest between his spread thighs.

You look at his straining erection, biting your lip, then giggling at how desperate he looks when your fingers work the waistband down. His firm cock pops out. You lean forward, letting your hardened nipples trace along his thighs. His breathing stutters. Your tongue traces his plumped head. 

Suddenly, the New Jersey Devils captain doesn’t remember his team is playing an hour and a half away.

Instead, his focus is on your soft mouth stroking his rock hard length.

[solacescastleglow]

🩰🍳🌿 Daily Life Aesthetics 🌿🍳🩰

What do you do when you can't motivate yourself to do things without a moodboard, but you don't want to look at a screen? Print the moodboards out of course! These will be going into a binder along with some troubleshooting notes so I can get things done even when my executive dysfunction is an issue. I highly endorse making these, the process was so fun.

Morning Routine

light stretches, the clean feeling of having just brushed my teeth, sesame turkish bread with hummus, reading with bleary eyes, chai lattes, the certainty of knowing exactly what I'm going to do that day, upbeat music, fresh air through the windows, saying good morning to my cat, picking out a cute outfit.

French

the sound duolingo makes when you get 10 in a row, nasal vowels, repeating phrases under my breath, understanding a new sentence for the first time, writing a ç by hand, watching french movies with french subtitles, studying the republican calendar to learn new nouns, understanding cooking and ballet terms instinctively.

Studying

the ritalin kicking in, getting 100% on a quiz, write now edit later attitudes, marginalia, a cup of tea slowly cooling next to my laptop, messy desks, flashcards, today's study schedule on the wall, feedback from professors, watching online lectures at 1.75x speed, going to a cafe to think.

Leaving the House

the sun on my face, buying flowers for the house, the smell of a secondhand bookshop, museums, getting a little treat, sitting in the shade, reading on a park bench, farmer's markets, the sound of rain hitting an umbrella, picnics, finding a cool record, seeing people wearing pretty outfits (and telling them that).

Exercising

winning badminton, feeling not exhausted but satisfied after a game, seeing my muscles actually move when I flex them, happy baby pose, better posture, laughing through the pain when doing bicycles, going on a walk, connecting with my sibling through pilates, high reps on the lightest weight possible.

Going to Therapy

the catharsis of crying, the ache in my chest fading after years of heaviness, allowing myself to be a kid again, feeling more whole, finding parts of me I thought were gone forever, knowing I can handle whatever life throws at me, laughing with my therapist about serious topics, curling up in a safe corner of my room.

Working on my Book

designing characters, research, writing rich descriptions of settings, planning out illustrations and page layouts, bringing imaginary conversations to life, watching over someone's shoulder as they read what I've written, finally getting a frustrating sentence right, dreaming about children who will see themselves in my writing.

Housework

a little nudge from the robot vacuum, the smell of steam coming out of the iron or dishwasher, exhausted satisfaction after finally getting the fitted sheets on, laundry in the wind, everything in its place, a clear mind in a clear space, rinsing the dust off the damp duster, the smell of fresh laundry.

Planning my Week

neat rows of binders, colour coded spreadsheets, calendars with everything in place, vision boards, grocery lists crumpled in a hand, knowing exactly how this week will go, step by step guides to each task, feeling safe in case of emergency, a messy journal and a neat wall calendar, time blocking.

Personal Finance

putting away 50% of my income into savings, being surrounded by beauty, a comfortable sinking fund, transferring money between sub-accounts, getting everything I've ever wanted, investing in things I'm passionate about, creating stability for the future, being debt free, being able to get a little treat with what I've saved.

Participating in my Religion

a cheekful of wine, the presence of g-d in the room, candles on ornate candlesticks, tikkun olam, the cycle of the year, awe as the ark opens, ripping challah apart, the grounding points of the magen david when I squeeze my necklace, playing with tzitzit, praying sounding like birdsong, the dusking of a new day.

Cooking

mise en place, the smell of garlic and spices, bubbling pots on the stove, the whole house warmed up, chatting with my dad, fresh vegetables, mountains of parmesan cheese, the chime of the pressure cooker, pretty plates, sitting down to eat with family and friends.

Showering

double cleansing, feeling literally squeaky clean, gourmand scents, leave in conditioner making my hair feel like seaweed, the tingly feeling of glycolic acid, burberry her mixed with cocoa and coconut, scented candles to set the mood, listening to self improvement podcasts, smooth skin.

Nighttime Routine

cookies and chamomile tea with my family, watching tv, calling 'goodnight' down the stairs, overheads off and warm lamps on, teeth feeling so clean after an everything toothbrush, reading in the faint light, filling out my journal, nighttime yoga, daydreaming about the future, an easy slip into a deep sleep.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

They call you what? - Jake Seresin and Bradley Bradshaw x Roomie! Reader

A/N: So this is part of the new beginnings universe and I have loved getting to explore this universe with these three!

Read the first part here

Living with two naval aviators was proving to be a pretty steep learning curve. Their terminology, jargon, and abbreviations were usually lost on you and more often than not you ended up googling things to keep up with conversations.

You were sitting in the living room reading a book when one of these conversations were going on, Jake and Bradley walking in the front door both still clad in their uniforms from work. “Can you believe the new guys call sign? That’s just brutal.” The words came from Jake’s lips as Bradley shook his head in return, both their eyes falling on you.

“What’s a call sign?” You never took your eyes off the book as the words left your lips, eyebrows just scrunching up in curiosity as you tried to place why what they were talking about was so funny. They spoke navy, as you liked to tell people, and it felt like a foreign language to you. You had been trying, you really had. But, there’s only so much a girl could do.

The silence in the air was palpable as you looked up from your book, awe-struck looks on both of the pilots faces. They were frozen in shock, Jake’s look more exaggerated than Bradley’s as was his dramatic tendency.

“You really don’t know what a call sign is?” Jake wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement and clear disappointment as he leaned against the wall, eye brows raised in his cocky and arrogant fashion. “Nope, not everyone knows your secret navy language.” You shrugged and put your bookmark in your pages, being able to tell this was going to be a long conversation.

You sat the book down as Bradley sank down into the couch beside you, looking over at you. “Think of it as nicknames that we go by almost exclusively.” He shrugged, making it sound super simple. The answer made you nod, looking at both of the men as you waited for them to tell you what their call signs were.

“Mine is hangman.” Jake looked pretty damn proud of himself and you tried to hold in a laugh, which earned you a scoff in return. “Hangman? Like the child’s game?” You finally let out the laugh you were holding in, covering your mouth. “D-does that mean people think about strangling you when they say that to you daily?” You were uncontrollably laughing now, getting a glare from Jake as Bradley cracked up beside you as well.

“Well, rooster. Why don’t you answer that for her? And I swear to god if you play the dead dad card.” Jake’s voice was sharp and cold as you slowly stopped laughing, your face softening at the end of Jake’s words. “Yeah, mine is because my dads was goose. But at least I gave mine to myself. Hangman here, wasn’t so lucky.” Bradley deflected the conversation back to a fuming Jake, who walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He immediately brought it up to his lips, taking a long swig. “Well, I’m still the only aviator with 2 confirmed kills, so it doesn’t matter. Clearly I’m the best.”

You just scoffed at his words as you sat there deep in thought, looking between the two boys. They were best friends and yet they bickered like an old married couple; it was very amusing to you. You waited out the silence and the dramatic fuming before speaking up, your voice thoughtful and hopeful. "Can I have a cool call sign?"

Bradley smiled and immediately nodded as he went to work thinking of one, Jake smirking and chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?" You huffed as you looked at him, his cockiness practically oozing out of his pores. "AAR; that's what it is." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to decipher what on earth that could mean, "Annoying ass roommate." You huffed and threw a pillow at the blonde, making him yelp quietly before Bradley spoke up.

"You know, I think it's time we let the professionals pick out her call sign. Y/N, it's time you meet our squad. They're going to be the ones who pick it out for you. You meet them tomorrow." Bradley patted you on the shoulder before he stood up off the couch and walked towards his room, hangman frowning in the kitchen. You were not supposed to be integrated into his life like this. This is not how it was supposed to happen. But, now, you were slowly starting to take hold.

[sagethegaywitch]

TFP Autobot Headcanons (Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Ratchet)

GN reader

TW: none

Genre: fluff

You will be a human assigned to an Autobot to keep you safe after you discovered their hideout with the rest of the human gang.  For now, the Autobots will have a platonic love for you.

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

Optimus Prime:

He was reluctant at first to take you under his wing, but he worried that Ultra Magnus and Ratchet wouldn’t have time for you, and Smokescreen and Wheeljack are equally bad influences.  He also doesn’t have much time to look after a human, so he’ll be very apologetic, telling you bluntly how this partnership will go.

He’s very busy as the leader of the Autobots, and he’s often spending most, if not all, of his time patrolling for threats or Energon.  Your relationship will go very slowly, but eventually, with a bit of pestering from you, he might take you on his daily drives to get to know you better.

He soon falls in love with driving you around in his cab.  You’ll be listening to your own music, working on some homework, or playing games on your phone, but you remain quiet because you know Optimus likes his peace.  It’ll start slow, maybe he’ll allow you to play your music aloud or even let you connect to his speakers.  Eventually, he’ll make comments on your music taste before transitioning to full on conversations.

He enjoys learning about human culture, and in return, he’ll tell you about Cybertron and his life before the war.  He treasures the rare moments when you get too lost in your thoughts and you ramble for hours during the long drives.  When you realize you’ve been talking his audio receptors off, you’ll apologize, but he’ll always reassure you and ask you to continue.

If you ever fall asleep in his alt-mode during the long drives, he avoids all rough terrain and will try to drive a bit slower to not jostle you too much.  He might even play some soft music or park completely to let you sleep peacefully.

As you two grow closer together, he’ll hang out with you when you’re at the base.  Instead of retreating to his room to work more, he’ll become a more common presence in the common room.  He’ll hover over your shoulder as you do work or watch from a safe distance when you play games with the other humans.  If you ever struggle with school subjects, he’s downloading everything off the internet revolving around the topic, and he’ll let you sit on his shoulder as he projects a small diagram to help teach you.

Although he has a lot of respect for you already, his affection will only skyrocket if you manage to get Ratchet to relax a bit.  He cherishes his friend and only wishes for him to take a break and relax, so if you manage to do what Optimus has been trying to do for centuries in a few months, Optimus will be so grateful for your persistent human spirit.

As time goes on, he lets you ride on his shoulder because he doesn’t like it when the humans run around on the ground where they might accidentally get stepped on.  He even got Ratchet to make him a necklace-like thing that can clip onto a harness you wear just in case you slip off.  He converses with you often as you sit there and likes that you’re on the same level as him now instead of him talking down at you.

When he tried to pick you up from school one day, you got a lot of questions from your friends the next day about the large semi-truck that took you home.  You think of a quick excuse, but Optimus is deflated to hear that his alt-mode is not a common human vehicle.  He’ll reluctantly have Bulkhead or Bumblebee pick you up from now on.

Overall, he’s very dad-like and will scold you if you ever get too rowdy.  He sees you as the reason he needs to defeat the Decepticons once and for all, just to protect you.  Although he was reluctant at first, he’s glad that you're his ward and that he gets to grow closer to you everyday and exchange knowledge.

Ultra Magnus:

He complained to Optimus when he assigned Magnus to be your guardian, and he did it right in front of you too.  He made it well known that he didn’t want to watch over you, saying he was much too busy to be concerned about a little human.  A quick talk with Optimus has him grumbling to himself about being demoted to a human babysitter.

Since he made his distaste of you known from the first day, you try to be more reserved and not be a burden to him. Eventually he caves with some persuasion from the other humans and Autobots.  He’ll schedule a formal meeting with you to get to know you better, and it’s kind of funny to see you sitting on Magnus’ desk, him glaring down at you in what he thinks is a friendly manner.

You eventually have to lecture him about human customs and how this is not how you make friends, which eventually leads to you telling him that you feel abandoned and lonely when you see the other humans interacting with their guardians.  He finds your sudden change in attitude enlightening, not knowing that you felt that way.  He will apologize and relax only a bit to have a real conversation with you.  After the talk, you two commit to working on developing this new relationship and friendship between a human and an Autobot.

As you get to know him, he will remain uptight around the others, not wanting to let his guard down and be seen as weak.  But, in privacy, like that one rare time he took you for a drive to get away from the idiots he works with, he softens up and rants to you about his emotions and the pressure he feels.  If you listen to him without judgment and even offer him helpful advice, he’ll listen to any frustrations you may have with your friends, parents, and/or school.  He’s a very good listener and he also has wise advice to give, although he does make Cybertronian analogies that you don’t quite understand.

He’ll start to take you out for drives more often if he sees you struggling mentally, and he’ll let you sit in silence to take a breather or let you speak your mind.  He’ll always make up an excuse to save you the embarrassment and questions from the others.  Eventually, you just ask to go on drives just to spend time with him, which he finds shocking, but he enjoys your presence.

If you ever fall asleep in his alt-mode, he’ll let out a loud sigh before driving right back to base.  Others will ask him why he’s remaining in his alt-mode, but he’ll just drive right past them to his room.  He can’t risk you being in danger in such a vulnerable position, but he also does not have the spark to wake you up when you looked like you needed the nap.

When he takes you on drives in his alt-mode, he’ll usually be distracted looking for Decepticons or anything out of the ordinary.  At first, he wouldn’t let you play music from his stereo, and he still doesn’t unless it’s music he approves of beforehand.  He’s very picky with his music, but he’s not very selective when it comes to podcasts.  He loves listening to all sorts of podcasts to better understand the human world.  From true crime to the news, he’s interested in all of them, and he’ll listen to whichever ones you enjoy.

At base, he does keep an eye on you, but he’s not actively watching out for you when you do your homework or play games with the others.  As your friendship grows, if you need a quiet place to work, he’ll let you sit on his desk and join him as he works.  He’ll be secretly delighted if you take an interest in his work.  He loves talking about his work and his duties, so he’ll gladly talk about the reports he has to write and might even tell you a few stories of his favorite past battles.  He’ll also be intrigued by your homework, wondering what’s the importance of human history or math.  He might even download some human textbooks to learn more about what you are taught in school.

He is a wonderful tutor if you ever need homework help.  Although he’ll pretend it’s a chore, he wants you to have the best education and be an intellectual, so he’ll dedicate one of his precious I-pads for human textbooks/knowledge and will use it to tutor you in subjects you're weak in.

Overall, he has a rough exterior, but he is capable of having emotions.  It just takes a bit more effort to break through to him, but he’s huge on communications, so talking to him about both of your issues will have him respecting you more.  Your relationship is based on mutual respect, and if you don’t turn your back on him, you have a very protective and knowledgeable guardian at your side.

Ratchet:

Similar to Ultra Magnus, Ratchet did not want to be your guardian, but at least he complained to Optimus in private.  He claimed he was much too busy with his research, fixing things up around base, and manning the spacebridge to be concerned with human affairs.  Optimus managed to convince him to give you a try and if you became too much of a hassle that you could be transferred to a more willing member.

Ratchet will have the dignity to not ignore you, but he’ll do the bare minimum.  He won’t pick you up from school because his alt-mode is too unusual for that kind of setting, but he’ll at least say “hi” to you each day.  One of the only ways to get his attention is if you’re an intellectual like him and point out a mistake he’s made in his work.  Since you’d probably be friends with Raf, he’d teach you all about Autobot science and math, which allows you to see Ratchet’s miscalculation.  Ratchet will just stare at you, shocked, as you explain what he did wrong before walking away.

It will literally keep him up at night, even though he doesn’t get much sleep to begin with.  Eventually, he’ll have you start checking his work.  He’ll probably attempt to email you his calculations, but it overwhelms your computer, leading to him just putting you on his shoulder and bringing you over to his computer.  You two spend hours looking over his research, checking for any mistakes.  After a few weeks of this, he’s startled to find that he doesn’t trust his own work without you approving it first.

Like you help him with his work, he’ll help you with your work.  He’s very smart, so he quickly understands human math, but he’s very old school.  He’s like those older parents who are confused and upset about schools changing the way certain things are done.  He gets particularly upset if you have math issues and you tell him the way he is teaching you isn’t the same way the teacher told you how to do the problem.

He rarely lets you sit in his alt-mode because he doesn’t do a lot of driving or patrolling.  But, if Optimus forces him out of the base, he’ll take you on a driving break and will drive around the mountain ranges where the base is located.  More often than not, he’ll just park on a nearby rock formation and watch the sunset with you, wanting to see the stars and constellations.  He’ll say they’re different from the ones on Cybertron and will love it if you point out the more prominent ones and tell him the stories behind them.  If you’re lucky, he might project some images of the ones on Cybertron and he will teach you about their history and significance as well.

If no other humans are at the base, he’ll let you play music on the speakers while the both of you work.  He doesn’t let a lot of people do this because he’s afraid Miko will abuse the power and play her loud music.  He’ll appreciate it if you play softer music like jazz or even songs without words.  He’ll start to tap his foot if he likes the song, so you have a playlist of songs that you notice he likes.  He’ll eventually realize that you only play songs that he likes, but he’s too proud to point it out.

If you have a sleepover at the base and if you’re an insomniac like he is, he will scold you and try to force you to go to sleep.  You’ll just use his words against him, trying to persuade him to get some sleep too.  You both will just be bickering with each other for a bit before you two come to the same agreement that you both need your rest.  As part of the deal, he will transform into his alt-mode and you will sleep inside.  He won’t let you bring your phone inside or any other distractions so you have to go to sleep and you’re inside so he can’t transform to do his work.

Overall, he’s very grumpy, but after he warms up to you, he’ll become very interested in the human mind.  If you are able to match both his intellectual talk and his sarcastic comments, he’s more likely to admire you and offer to work with you.  He’s just a very tired bot, and he appreciates that the younger human that follows him around is making him feel more lively and youthful.

[forevernneverending]

5/5

“Not a day goes by without laughing thinking about Terje”

DAILY: Jarle Kvale is a front man in Vreid - and was best friends with Terjo Bakken.

OSLO/SOGNDAL: It's almost ridiculous how quickly time flies. Think 10 years.

But it doesn't feel like he's completely awake. We talk about Terje for the day.

JARLE KVALE IS one of the people who knew Terje Bakken best. They grew up in the same hamlet. Together with the brothers Vegard and Terje made up Jarle a tight trio. First in games and fun on the football pitch, where Terje was the goalkeeper.

- We had our own place, the Sauaperla stadium up there. There were many hard battles, Jarle remembers. But at the age of 12-13 there was less and less football, - more and more music on the two teams -

- THE TASTE OF MUSIC WAS Growing up probably mostly came via Terje's older brother and their friends. It started with Kiss and Metallica, but soon things got tougher. Terje started of all places in the accordion club.

He got an accordion at the age of 11 and quickly learned to play. He wasn't like that

long there, Jarle tells.

All the way back in 1994, Terje started Windir as a one-man band. He played all the instruments and made all the tek stars and all the music himself on the first two CDs.

The third musical friend in the neighborhood, Jorn Holen, played drums on everything Terje made, but he was a member of the other metal band on the farm - Ulcus Molle together with Jarle.

THE PERHAPS IMPORTANT

GUEST, outsider

the factor for the teenagers being able to create a proper musical platform was Jorn's father, Svein Holen. He let the young people spend time in the barn, first in a small cramped room, later in a much larger one, which they decorated and polished up seventeen.

- I am eternally grateful to Svein for this, Terje was too. We talked a lot about how lucky we were to be able to drive to ourselves, when we wanted without fixed incubation times and adults as determined.

Here the young people were slowly but surely to play different instruments.

And the two bonded slowly but surely together. But there was still a way to go for Terje, because he was ready for - HE WAS A searching person, always looking to try new things. You can tell he was a bit restless. loose soul, who liked to go his own way. He was a little worried about what others thought of him, says Jarle.

But even if they continued as two bands right up until 1999, they worked closely together and they almost always played together. Listen to and tease each other and talk a lot.

- We could sit all night discussing. Like that time we sat down in the morning and talked about the hospital policy in Sogn and Fjordane. I have no idea how I got there.

So, in 1999, Terje was ready to take a step further and the six-piece band Windir say the light of day then the collaboration developed between best friends

Jarle and Terje moved on.

They wrote most of the lyrics and songs, doing each for themselves at first, because they sat down and perhaps sewed Jatane together. Or tip each other.

VREID, WHICH IS the band in which Jarle and Jorn are still in, saw the light of day almost 10 years ago, and today has a large international career. The band is a draw at the biggest metal festivals, both nationally and internationally.

And has many big near misses behind him. Windirfans can be heard and seen everywhere.

- They come with t-shirts with the Windir brand, with tattoos of our emblem and of Terje. I have seen many large tattoos of him.

They have CDs, records, pictures, in short, everything possible.

Terje or Valfar has a very large position out there, 10 years after he left. He is an icon. Big role model for many bad musicians and fans. He never bir gloymd.

- Keifor this position, do you think?

- He did something no one had done for. He then mixed folk melodies and black metal.

Terje was totally preoccupied with local history and boiled it together with music for parish metal. It did not bother him. Today, parish metal is a well-known style in the global metal scene.

An approach and a style that many new bands use. All thanks to being a man. Silver and extremely talented. He is one of the greats, quite simply, says Jarle Kvale.

FOR THE GOOD, they, Vreid, Windir and Ulcus Molle PLAN a memorial tour, where big-brother Vegard will sing at Windirlätane.

- It will be special. It's actually funny how quickly time has passed. Think 10 years ago. The loss of Terje is still there, but it doesn't feel like he's fully awake. We talk about him until the day. He is present in our lives, says Jarle Kvale.

He thinks it will be a good thing to travel on tour and play the old songs.

- It will be good for our own, but it will be completely safe. It's also good for all the fans, who like Terje so much. We must remember and honor him properly. But first I have to go to the barn and climb the old laths again. It will be strange without Terje...

(Now I cry)

[insanecowboy]

KENMA x YANDERE READER

⚠️ warnings :: stalking , thoughts of murder , one sided obsession / love .

if anyone wants part 2 let me know

The first time you met, you were in the hallway. A tall boy with black spiked hair standing next to him. Ranting about god knows what.

But he looked unreal. You had to rub your eyes and make sure you weren't just imagining him. You learned from your friend that his name was Kenma Kozume. This scrawny cat-like gamer incel that you saw in the school hallway was all you could think about for the next few days. At first, you just stared from a distance. Watching him eat lunch with his friend Kuroo, going to volleyball practice, and taking the train home.

You quickly memorized his daily routine. Kenma was always very aware of his surroundings. He knew he was being watched. Unsure of what to do, he confided in his best friend.

"You're probably just being paranoid" is what Kuroo said.

Next, it turned into stealing. Anything Kenma used was yours. His chapstick? In your possession. A dirty tissue? Pinned on your bedroom wall. A sweaty black t-shirt? You use it as a pillow case now.

On the day before nationals, Kenma was more worried than ever before. You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. You stood in the bleachers up top. Watching Kenma play was troubling. What if he got hurt? Or worse, he loses the game and lets all his teammates down. You couldn't let that happen. But you couldn't do anything now. It was too late into the game to intervene.

After the game was over, you couldn't take it anymore. You needed him to love you, to cherish you, to forfeit all of his possessions to you. That's when you thought of a brilliant plan to make him yours. You would start by introducing yourself to him. This part of your idea was probably the hardest. However, it needed to be done. Then, you would slowly make everyone he knows detach from him. To dislike him. All he would have left would be you. Finally, you can have him all to yourself! The only problem was Kuroo. He's been Kenmas friend for so long. How would you ever get rid of him?

You thought of muder, but that felt too far. Besides, that would cause a mess. What you needed was help from a girl. You would make her and Kuroo fall in love just how you love Kenma, then he would be too busy with her to realize how he hasn't talked to his best friend in weeks! You don't know anyone that would be willing to be Kuroos fake girlfriend, but that doesn't matter. You can figure it out later, right?

[tookishcombeferre]

So, I know I made a really long and super rambly post about the episode the "Sorcerer's Secret." But, I am not done because I want to bring together the threads of a few posts I've made before.

One of the things, I find, as someone steeped in the show almost daily with my kid like a really, really strong tea, is that the characters in the show are very human. Despite living in a high fantasy setting, the emotions they have are very real.

This is true of like ... ALL the characters. They're all incredibly real people. And, I LOVE THAT! It's so lovely. It feels super old school 90s cartoon-like because of that. There really aren't any totally flat major characters. Which, is something I only ever really see in Bluey and Sesame Street as far as more "modern" programming goes. (And, let's face it, Sesame Street is just a super old school thing that has kept running into the modern era.)

That out of the way, I think it's super important to recognize a few things.

Human brains are not meant to operate in isolation. And, specifically, what I love about Season 2 is *a lot* of characters who were previously isolated coming out of isolation to find acceptance and start to trust more deeply. We see this in Vivian in the "Sorcerer's Secret" episode as she learns to trust her ability. We see Cedric actually *enjoying* things - genuinely - for once! We see Baileywick opening up about things that are personal to him beyond just his work. Trust is being built between Sofia and her friends/ mentors, and she's the bridge between them and he friends.

However, one of the things I really like, specifically with Cedric's arc, is that it ebbs and flows. He is, at times, self-interested. But, over time, as trust is built, that starts to dissipate more and more. He becomes more genuine. He's freer with his emotions going into Season 3. He's a little less uptight. He's a little less self-centered. He's a little more loving.

I can imagine, based on Cedric's experiences, that trusting anyone would be difficult. It's much easier to create distance when hurt has been felt for a long time. And, yet, time and time again we see him breaking down the barriers of his heart to let people in.

I love "Sidekick Clio" as well. It's a great episode. It sends me into peels of laughter every time I watch it. But, I also think is shows just how much Cedric wants to *be wanted.* And, for a while, the games, the pranks, the joys of creating the effects for the play provide him that. Yet, you can see James light up in that episode as well. There's a connection there. Something is being built there. The walls are slowly coming down.

And, yes, Cedric still struggles with wanting to take over the Kingdom. He does put active roadblocks in the way of the characters in certain episodes as the antagonist right up until his redemption. But, it leads to a really beautiful moment of writing and dilemma. It leads to an important discussion of "Am I good? Am I crazy? Am I bad? Or has life left me some kind of mix of all three that I must sort through, understand, and then decide how to act on?"

Cedric has been led to this juncture by the love he has for his apprentice and this amazing person who has shown him nothing but kindness EVEN when he has been lousy. But, at the end of the day, the question he's faced with is "Am. I. Evil?"

And, the answer is no.

But, in order to get to that oh so satisfying conclusion, we have to build into it. We have to see the trust develop. We have to see the walls of the tower come down brick by brick. And, sometimes that's messy, BUT it doesn't make the things he taught Sofia any less real, or the love he has for her any less valid when he shows it.

It just makes Cedric messy. It shows that trust is a process. It shows that human relationships are complicated. But, the love we feel as people who are healing and learning to build trust is very real. The apologies we make when we're on the other side of our hurt count. And, we can all find paths to forgiveness and atonement through communication and service. (The Valjean metaphor lives on.)

My final thought I want to wrap up with is this.

In putting all the lifting of this relationship on Sofia, we run into three problems.

The first is losing her as child. Part of what helps Cedric is just that Sofia exists. He gets to watch her succeed, have hope, and be a kid. He gets to see her have some of what he, likely, wishes he had but, due to the Incident, didn't get to have.

How much more willing would Cedric be to protect her childhood because he didn't get one? How insensced would he be/ is he over how Sofia has been treated by the Protectors because of this?

(Cedric has absolutely told off the Amulet. 1,000/10 he has yelled at it for making her do too much.)

Cedric understands Sofia. He knows what she could lose, and has lost, because he lost it. I think that's a profound part of his dilemma between his goodness and his villainy.

The second thing is focusing solely on how "Sofia fixes" or "heals" Cedric is that it detracts from the other meaningful moments on Cedric's journey. You mean to tell me that seeing Vivian succeed at disappearing bubbles or helping Clio literally fly weren't also meaningful to him? Or, that his growing relationship with James wouldn't have also reminded him of himself? Or, the depth of a relationship he seems to have with Calista, and that that love wasn't also important to his transformation? Or, even as Cedric himself seems to imply in his speech on DotS, that his desire to HAVE a relationship with his sister and Roland again that doesn't involve being nitpicked wasn't fundamental to his redemption arc?

If Cedric lets evil win? He doesn't have hope of reconnection with the people he wants most to rekindle relationships with or to continue to be in the lives of those he cares about most. He can't be the world's best uncle from exile.

The final thing is that, as I mentioned in a past post, it really detracts from Cedric as accepting the love he is given and working to trust. I think, without recognizing the difficulty of that, we lose a fundamental part of his character and why he's so compelling. He's experienced a lot of hurt and a lot of isolation, and that takes TIME to heal from. Somehow, despite this, he finds good in things and tries to grow it. And, we see that occur more and more instead of less and less as the seasons go on. This culminates beautifully into DotS and "In Cedric We Trust."

Cedric has let himself return to who he was before he was hurt. Because, there is no way the kid who just wanted to calm his sister down and make her look cool was evil in his heart of hearts. So, instead, Cedric has learned to see himself for who he is ... as good. To use a quote that, at least one other person will probably get a little chuckle from, "the evil has been defeated" and, even when it seemed all hope was gone, hope and goodness found a way in anyway.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. If any of this sounds incoherent, I have some kind of mystery virus and am not feeling all that well. So, pardon my crazed ramblings.

[rin-and-jade]

'Tis My Cue?: A Post on (system) Triggers | PART 2

Here's a little warm up. Anyone knows the answer for 2 + 2 ? It's 4, right. But you didn't think on how you get the answer, you just knew. Another one, you were on recess and time's up, so you calmly go back to your work/class and stopped kidding around. How did you learn this signal? Yeah... talk about that, Boss.

--

Yippie--part two is here! IF you haven't read the first, here is the link. The first trigger post is more focused on trauma based, fight and flight response,, the second one will truly delve on the process and how triggers affect switches even deeper.. discussing how the subconscious plays a role on making this possible.

TLDR section: Fast Pass Available! Scroll most bottom.

No need for introductions, right?

We already knew that triggers means sparking a fuse--particularly an emotional reaction, which part one explained in-depth. In addition, triggers can also evoke certain memories and actions that were previously learnt.

The types, followed by previous terms, that are most often successful in triggering parts are: Dynamites (thoughts), Landmines (environments), and Grenades (interoception)

Here on, we will only focus on this specific kind of trigger, why they're often strong to evoke a reaction that causes a switch, and short elaboration on the process of shifting through different states of alters.

Bare in mind that these triggers, although usually most successful on facilitating switches, will not mean you would have a 100% guarantee at all times.

The other meaning of a trigger

Outside of the common usage of this word which is often used to create warnings (abbreviation like TW) that is used to prevent negative thoughts from resurfacing, 'trigger' in this today's context resembles closer to a program or a code.

Like alright, i know some of ya'll are game nerds,, this is no different than a minecraft sculk sensor with some redstone contraption.

So, trigger in this context would specifically refer to how you're able to execute or adapt to a necessary task or rules you adhere. A cue, like a 100 meter runner, relies on listening that resembles a bang. In more practical usage, this also can be specific words, environments, or even some favorite words that causes a response. A learnt one.

Now, while all three type of "bombs" have different cues that pulls an alter out, they all still generate the same response that leads to a switch. Just that some are more obvious/external, or more hidden/internal.

So.. how does this work again?

One example: you're a host doing daily chores, a familiar figure suddenly entered your peripheral vision.. it's the one you associate with the most negative experiences at the past.

This encounter generates a copious amount of discomfort alone, which made you wary and unsure how to go by,, high chances, you were expected to endure and hide any negative reactions.

As you slowly begin to worry, the trigger had worked, you then coped by dissociating and everything starts to get fuzzy. Any existing alters who had more resilience or took on a protective role often notice that something is wrong, and so, the trigger was the cue to your brain to start fronting another alter that is more adept on a certain situation.

In conclusion, the process looked like this:

New stimuli -> processes and identify the object/situation -> attempts to react to the stimulus in an appropriate manner -> brain regions associated with priority and behavior are involved -> which brings out the specific alter that is made for a task

Nonetheless, it is an adaption for any person, though for systems,, the speed and awareness to recognize external threats and switching with designated alters varies widely.

Boogie traps?!

Right.. i never explained that how your brain identify triggers like. They don't.

What?!..

Yeah silly... it can't see or hear, it can only know if it is similar to the past, no matter what the relevance seems to be. This is how false alarms happen. False what again? Well, try explaining why you have an alter stranded outside at front that has nothing to do with its current role or proficiency.

Oddly enough, this can also happen if you deviate from your conscious state of being aware of the external world and think of something, or daydream, that may have any subtle cues an alter is familiar with,, good luck being spawned by accident, guys.

...

Im still on topic. Do you know that the efficacy of triggers heavy depend on two things? Yes, the intensity and dissociative-factor.

Why these two? I'd say, the easiest way to explain this is how Intensity helps your brain gauge how serious or urgent the matter is to start adapting with another facet (or parts, in system's pov). While the D-factor is what suppresses your fear response from the 'salience network' which gives way for your 'central executive network', the one that controls priority and task switching, to bring out an alter that is necessary for a task at hand.

Because, if you were not to get knocked out to a dissociative haze, your salience network, which acts as a threat radar, would immediately slam the danger button that activates your 'ventral attention network' which is often related to upkeeping with tasks that require high cognitive/attention demands; The common situation a system would experience: Front stuck.

If you were to not be clutched in a front stuck, it would mean your D-factor suppressed the danger sense from your salience network, creating a catanotic state instead.

If you are seeking for front stuck information, i had a post on my tags, #jeducates or this link instead.

Last words

That's all to it on the second part--oh, and the reason why this is possible is going back to the basics:

Alters are made up of compartmentalized memories, and those who held a specific experience to the situation, will recognize the cue that helps them react appropriately. It is just benign (co-conscious) until a familiar cue caused that whole brain process to perform a switch,, now that's what a trigger is.

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Oh man, i hope this didn't flop as bad. But what do you guys think? There's so much about triggers and switches that i still can't elaborate due to how advanced and many more studying you guys need in required to fully comprehend it, so i tried to compile this as simple as i could.

Although, i hope this alone is still informative, we've went through the basics on the first part, so this is only for explaining the internal process that people often cannot put to words.

I also intend to release another educative post about phantom limbs by mid-November, please look forward to it if you're interested!

TLDR SECTION

Triggers as Signals: Beyond trauma-based responses, triggers are cues or signals that our brain has learned to respond to, often through past experiences. Some cues, such as specific environments, thoughts, or body sensations, can quickly facilitate a switch to another alter who’s better suited to handle a given situation.

Examples of Triggers: The post focuses on the three most effective types for triggering parts in DID:

Dynamite (Internal triggers like thoughts)

Landmines (External triggers from environments)

Grenades (Physiological triggers like heart rate or pain) Each trigger type has its own way of initiating a switch, often activating a specific alter to manage the experience.

Trigger Process: The process looks something like this:

New stimulus -> Brain registers and identifies it -> Appropriate response begins -> Specific brain regions assess the priority of the reaction -> Triggered alter takes over as needed.

False Alarms & Accidental Switching: Sometimes, “false alarms” occur, where cues remind the brain of past experiences and cause an unnecessary switch, even when the alter’s role doesn’t fit the present situation.

Intensity & Dissociative Factor (D-Factor): Trigger effectiveness depends on two factors:

Intensity: How urgent the brain perceives the stimulus to be.

Dissociative Factor (D-Factor): The degree of dissociation that helps suppress fear and allows the brain’s executive functions to bring out a part who can handle the situation effectively.

How This Affects Switching: When dissociation lowers the "salience network" (our inner alarm system), the brain activates the "central executive network" to manage task-switching, often leading to a co-conscious or full switch. If the brain instead signals high danger, it may create a front-stuck situation where switching becomes harder. If the brain suppresses the danger, it would instead bring you into catatonia.

Final Note: This is a deeper look into triggers beyond trauma. The brain’s use of learned cues to help switch and adapt keeps each alter equipped to handle their own tasks.

- c

[moonpool-system]

Plural Coining: Fronting Spoons

[pt: Plural Coining: Fronting Spoons]

There's a subset of spoon theory that specifies "types of spoons". This is the concept that different categories of activities can take different types of spoons, meaning that you could have spoons for one activity, say, going to the post office, but not the spoons for another activity, like doing the dishes. This is equivalent to how you, of course, couldn't eat soup with a grapefruit spoon- I mean you could try, but it sure would be slow and painful.

What I'm presenting is an expansion of that concept, for plurals trying to learn to hold front intentionally/on their own. Fronting spoons refer to the amount of energy you have to hold onto front, before the body/brain puts in whomever it deems "correct". For us, that's almost always me & my frontstuck subsystem, but it could be anyone for the individual system at any time. With examples though, I'll be using the same "default" headmate for simplicity. It takes energy to use the body and to stay co-conscious when you're trying to stop switching/coconning uncontrollably, and that's what fronting spoons are all about.

Let's go over some specifics and examples!

🥄 Fronting spoons work similarly to regular spoons, in that if you push past your limit, you'll likely end up burnt out later and regenerate your spoons more slowly while you recover. For example, Headmate A is the brain's default, and Headmate B is used to fronting a little bit daily. One day, B gets caught up in a long event, and stays in front the whole time. This exhausts B's fronting spoons - A stays in front for the next three days brcause B isn't able to access front due to needing to recover.

🥄 Fronting spoons are likely to be affected by any other differences and sways you find normal in the fronting schedule of your system. For example, the system is inside deciding on a video game to play. Headmates C and D like video games and indoor activities, so they might find they have a larger pool of fronting spoons at the moment than Headmates E and F, whom like outdoor activities and socialization.

🥄 Your system may find that being co-conscious and fronting take up a similar pool of spoons, with simply being conscious taking up less and using the body taking up more. This is how we experience it as the coiners and how systems we've observed do as well, but every plural is different, so please let us know if you find co-consciousness and fronting to have separate spoon pools! We would find it very interesting. As an example for this one, Headmate A has been in front all day, with Headmate B in co-con. Headmate B now wants to front for a short time, but B is exhausted from spending all day aware of front in co-con, and will have to wait until tomorrow.

🥄 Many guides for various types of created systems stress practicing switching little by little and building up skill over time. This is a possible way to build up your pool of fronting spoons so you can do more with the body in time. For example, Headmate G struggles with fronting and instead usually watches Headmate H. With Headmate H's permission, G tries to control only the body's voice for a short time, and finds that takes less spoons. G works on controlling the voice for slightly longer and longer periods, until G can now control limbs of the body as well. Now, G fronts for very short periods and slowly is able to stay for longer each time. Like exercise, G goes to the limit but doesn't push past it, and is able to strengthen G's personal pool of fronting spoons over time.

Feel free to add your own experiences or even contrast the details we've outlined here - we want this to be a concept that's community-built, and we're only one system's perspective. We hope everyone finds this useful!