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hyperactively-me · 4 months

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Okay so I just found your account and hello??? You’re amazing???? I’m OBSESSED with your king!Simon stuff and I will be binging it immediately.

Do you have any thoughts or can I make a request on a blurb if queen!reader never forgave Simon after his outburst? Like if she just couldn’t get past the hurt of his words and their marriage was never the same?

ho hoh hooo. yeah. let's get down and dirty with this one

(noncanon)

king!ghost x reader -- alternate ending to 'anger' warnings: heavy angst, unhappy ending, hurt/no comfort, don't worry this is NOT canon!!!

Your relationship with Simon, once a haven of stolen kisses and whispered promises, became a haunting abyss of regret and desolation. The walls of the castle echoed with the hollow footsteps of your irreparably broken relationship. Simon's attempts to mend the bridge were met with a cold silence, the wounds of his harsh words refusing to heal.

The only thing was you still loved him. You loved him so much, but how could you trust him again? How would you know that he wouldn't turn against you again, casting you out and disposing you like you were merely a nuisance he had to deal with?

A relentless ache settled in your chest some time ago, refusing to leave. Pain became a constant companion, woven into the very fabric of your existence. The days dragged on like a never-ending slump, always trying your best to avoid him when you could.

News had traveled around the palace staff that you two were no longer speaking, although Simon had tried to multiple times, only for it to end in bitter argument again and again. Those arguments heightened your anxiety, always reminding you that he thinks you're not good enough, which inevitably became your inherent belief. You stepped on the shards of your shattered love, cutting your feet on the remnants of a relationship that had once been your refuge.

Yet, hints of love still lingered in the shadows, and your anguish refused to subside. Or, was it love? Or was it just a longing for things to return back to the way they were? Who knows.

Simon's presence, once a source of comfort, now felt thick with tension. In the times you did have to be around him, you were curt and icy, no matter how many times he tried to talk to you, all in an attempt to shield your wounded heart. You would avoid his gaze, barely even looking at him.

More weeks pass by in a monotonous haze, your love for Simon now transformed into a bittersweet kind of poison. The remnants of his touch, once your lifeline, something you craved, now squeezed at your heartstrings with a vice grip. The ache in your chest persisted, a cruel reminder that apologies alone couldn't mend a broken heart.

One evening, you sat out in your garden, staring at nothing in particular with bags under your eyes from a lack of sleep. You didn't hear Simon approach, his eyes narrowing in on you with regret. He reaches out, a desperate plea in his touch, but you immediately recoil.

Simon pulls away, his face contorted into sorrow and frustration.

"Please, just talk to me," Simon implored.

You swallow thickly, looking away to avoid the intensity of his gaze. That familiar ache in your chest intensifies, a silent scream echoing in your mind.

"I can't keep doing this," Simon admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I miss us. I miss you."

You put up your hand in a 'stop' motion.

"Ghost, please. I can't... I can't go back to the way things were," you whisper, refusing to look up at him.

His eyes, once filled with determination, now mirrored the desolation that defined your relationship. A heavy silence sits between you two.

"I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it," Simon continues, his voice edged with desperation. "I'd do anything to take it back."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. "Simon, love can't fix everything. Trust has to be earned, and... I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I can't forgive you. You've caused me so much pain."

Simon's shoulders sagged even further, as if the weight of the universe pressed upon him.

But your resolve remained unyielding. The pain of his words lingered, leaving scars that ran too deep to heal with mere apologies. The walls around your heart had become impenetrable.

Simon stood there for a moment, the weight of your words settling over him like a heavy cloak. His face was etched with a mixture of sorrow and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the wind carrying his words, leaving behind a charged silence.

Without waiting for a response, he turned away, leaving you alone in the garden with the echoes of a love that once flourished but now lay in complete and utter ruins.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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mirandamckenni1 · 7 months

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youtube

The Best Theory of Autism you've probably NEVER heard of... The monotropic mind theory of autism might help you explain autism to your friends and family. Discovering monotropism was like finding out I am autistic all over again! 💛WATCH NEXT💛: You are NOT Lazy: 12 Tips to Succeed with Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA): https://youtu.be/JoXIJhnFAdI Could you actually have Dyspraxia (DCD)?: https://youtu.be/8dYz6pCjEy8 TikTok Explains Why your Masking SUCKS | Actually Autistic TikToks: https://youtu.be/KyXtGGMtiK8 📹 My Videos mentioned 📹: 10 Signs you have Pathological Demand Avoidance: https://youtu.be/1Uq1n8UQ3hc What masking feels like from the Inside: https://youtu.be/H4vcMWB7fuQ Autistic Special Interests are NOT what you think...: https://youtu.be/yaZ10mYCQsM Do YOU Have Pathological Demand Avoidance?: https://youtu.be/XTdx_oSjLBs 14 Signs You Actually Have Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA): https://youtu.be/bO6Nua9jkBQ Could you actually have Dyspraxia (DCD)?: https://youtu.be/8dYz6pCjEy8 You are NOT Lazy: 12 Tips to Succeed with Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA): https://youtu.be/JoXIJhnFAdI 📒 Sources 📒: DSM-5 Diagnostic Criteria: chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://ift.tt/AItSvbQ Development and Validation of a Novel Self-Report Measure of Monotropism in Autistic and Non-Autistic People: The Monotropism Questionnaire: https://osf.io/ft73y/ Attention, monotropism and the diagnostic criteria for autism: https://ift.tt/NdxEMSv A Productive Irritant: A Celebration of the Life of Dr. Dinah Murray: https://ift.tt/EpbdHiF Dinah Murray, researcher into autism who developed the novel theory of ‘monotropism’ – obituary: https://ift.tt/kEwSgpI Stories from the Spectrum: Wenn Lawson: https://ift.tt/4dDNyux TikTok on Monotropism: https://ift.tt/W3HGSPE Autism isn't an Illness: https://ift.tt/PMYsn5W. Wikipedia Pathological Demand Avoidance: https://ift.tt/AHVubzv Me and Monotropism: A unified theory of autism: https://ift.tt/P1vQxek Monotropism.org: https://ift.tt/UV1xfT2 Interoception: https://ift.tt/bwK08Qg Idioms list: https://ift.tt/3wHy1re Role of Intolerance of Uncertainty and Anxiety: https://ift.tt/9nEm13u Borderline personality disorder (BPD): https://ift.tt/brP2fNT NHS Borderline Personality Disorder: https://ift.tt/flLxRdI Dyspraxia in autism: association with motor, social, and communicative deficits: https://ift.tt/c1oqzsf Specificity of dyspraxia in children with autism: https://ift.tt/Ngjvuz7 Monotropic Split: https://ift.tt/jO5matv 00:00 What is autism? 03:09 How to explain it? 04:26 Why do we hate Eye Contact? Language stuff 10:50 Why do we have Sensory Differences? 12:55 Why do we Stim? 15:13 Why do we have Special Interests? 18:20 Why do we need Routine and Control? 20:57 Why do we think Literally? 22:40 Why do we get Stuck and HATE interruptions? 24:30 Why Pathological Demand Avoidance? 26:28 Why do we have Intense Relationships? 29:05 Why do we have Dyspraxia? 30:25 Why do we have Meltdowns, Shutdowns and burnout? 33:00 Why are we all so Different? 📖 *Books I'd Recommend about Autism 📖 : Aspergirls by Rudy Simone: https://amzn.to/3xSZ6Mg Different not Less by Chloe Hayden (read if you want to cry): https://amzn.to/40fKx2m Unmasking Autism by Devon Price: https://amzn.to/3LhMV3j *These are affiliate links. The channel will receive a small commission if you buy anything on Amazon after clicking through with this link. There's no extra cost to you; any money will go towards putting out more content. I'd love to post twice a week and put more time into research for these videos. Thank you so much - I really appreciate every like and comment! DISCLAIMER: I am a second-year psychology student and a late-diagnosed #actuallyautistic individual. I am not a qualified healthcare professional. via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mBbOOzhoGQ

#IFTTT #YouTube #Youtube

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thatsfuckedcorbin · 1 year

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last night i dreamed about cheating on michael again, this time w thomas instead of a rando stranger named jonathon lol. woke up feeling disgusted w myself and hating myself n ended up googling what it meant bc i feel terrible for having this as a recurring dream. here's what i came up w.

stress/anxiety. tends to trigger my intrusive thoughts. i have finals rn and had an 8am statics final this morning.

i need to chill out. be curious and open and helpful to others. these are traits i admire abt thomas.

insecurity / fear of abandonment. this one makes mild sense ig but is more when the other person cheats on u but still, i think the sequence of having smth go wrong and begging for forgiveness & feeling like i don't deserve his love is a sign of insecurity / fear of abandonment. like giving a reason for things to go wrong. creating a source for my anxiety.

missing michael / not getting enough attention. he's been tired, going thru finals, + dealing w shit from zach. understandably, we haven't talked much lately. i'm wanting more from the relationship. craving attention & care which thomas gave me.

christian also shows up whenever i have a cheating dream & i think it's just bc of the intensity of, ig lovebombing? that i experienced from him, followed by abandonment. like at this point he's a symbol for all of those things that i'm so scared of & that make me think everything is gonna go wrong. i think him showing up just about sums up everything. he was comforting in this one n didn't play a huge role.

i don't ever wanna tell michael abt this sequence of events / dreams bc i don't want him to think i /actually/ wanna cheat on him or anything. i love him so so much which is why these dreams always weigh so heavily on me and i feel so guilty. but hopefully understanding more about myself, my needs, and my fears / insecurities will help. i don't think i've had this dream since midterms so it would make sense.

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bangtanflirt · 2 years

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Ruin Me, Pretty Please? (Part 12)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader x Jimin

NSFW CONTENT (18+ ONLY)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the campus’s it-boy. Y/N is a socially anxious recluse. When Jungkook accidentally witnesses Y/N’s sexually sadistic nature, it awakens a new side of him.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12 > Part 13

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, humiliation/degradation, female domination, praise kink, social anxiety, toxic masculinity, fear of coming out, jimin has ptsd from a bad past domme, insecurity, attempt at infidelity (not by any main character), general angst

Jungkook wakes in a blissful haze, with soft snores against his neck. He looks down at the older boy pressed against him--morning wood and all. On his other side is you, already awake and scrolling through social media. When you notice the awakened presence beside you, a smile creeps up on your lips. Jungkook uses his free hand to pull you in for a kiss. The soft pecks slowly get more intense as you give his bottom lip a gentle graze with your teeth, prompting him to swipe his tongue against the roof of your mouth. You two spend a couple minutes lost in each other’s lips like that, until a gagging noise pulls you apart. Both of your heads snap to the source of the sound: an awake Jimin gagging in fake disgust at the sight.

“At least brush your teeth you horny fuckers.”

“Good morning to you too Jimin” you chuckle, noticing the groggy voice from his no-doubt sore throat.

“I think we’ve done filthier things hyung” Jungkook adds, dipping his head back down to kiss you again.

The older man gets up and off the bed, unable to hide his smile much longer.

“You two heathens have fun. I’m gonna freshen up and make some pancakes.”

___

The next Anthro lecture goes by as usual; the only difference being your increased anxiety as presentation day plagues your mind. You feel bad for Minhyuk for having to put up with your constant jitters when planning out how to present, but the man seems determined to help you through it.

“You probably hate me” you groan with your head in your hands.

“Definitely. I totally can’t stand you for volunteering to do the hardest part of the research and creating the entire outline by yourself.”

“That’s because I want to proactively make up for what a mess I will be during the presentation.”

Minhyuk throws his head back in laughter, patting your back in an attempt to be reassuring.

The man clearly doesn’t feel the stab of a hundred daggers shooting at his back, courtesy of Jungkook’s deadly gaze. You don’t notice either, too wrapped up in your conversation with your partner.

It doesn’t help that Jungkook’s own partner, Da-Eun, doesn’t seem too interested in discussing the project either—choosing to use the time to get Jungkook’s opinions on other matters.

“Is this one better or the red one?” She inquires, leaning in to swipe between two bikini pictures in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be asking your boyfriend these questions?” He scoffs, shooing away the phone.

Da-Eun’s lips purse into a thin line.

“You never cared about him before” she bites before turning away and checking her phone.

It’s true. Jungkook had never cared about such things before. Heck, he would ruin a relationship just for fun if it meant getting sex. But now, his skin crawled at flashbacks of all of his immoral hookups; he wonders how you and Jimin viewed him when hearing all the stories circle through the halls. The worst part is that he didn’t even do it for the sex, but rather for the gossip. He used to revel in the “alpha” reputation, feeling secure in acting just like all the other men in his family. But now, the figures he used to aspire to be are the men he pities most: men more concerned with their hypermasculinity than having basic human decency.

He looks back at you and Minhyuk, with a softer gaze this time, reigning in his unwarranted possessiveness.

___

“I’ve been debating the right moment to say this, but I think now’s as good as ever. Jeon Jungkook, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

Jungkook lightly shoves an overdramatic Taehyung, who insists on cheering him on during practice.

“Ow, is that how you treat your biggest fan?” He clutches his chest in faux agony.

“I just wish my biggest fan wasn’t so cringey” he laughs, heading to the locker room with Tae on his trail.

“Or….you wish it was someone else in general, don’t you? Like that guy you like.”

The younger boy hushes his friend, paranoid at who could be overhearing.

“Sorry!” Tae continues in low whispers, “I just wanted to know the progress. You don’t tell me shit anymore.”

Jungkook refuses to make eye contact, choosing to focus on changing and trying to hide the guilt on his face. He knows he’s been distant from Taehyung lately, too insecure to bring up his thing with you and Jimin. There have been countless times where he wishes he could talk to Tae about how to navigate these life changes—but the words get pushed down his throat. Taehyung still thinks of him in the image he’s crafted: carefree playboy. And even though Tae is a good guy when it comes down to it, he’s not sure if the two would even be friends if Jungkook had never put on his womanizer persona. He’s beyond grateful of how accepting he is with the whole liking guys thing, but even then, Taehyung keeps making tasteless jokes about him “making guys into his bitches now.” Will he no longer see Jungkook as friend material if he finds out that he’s the one “being turned into a bitch?”

“I’m just not ready to talk about it, Tae. Especially not in the men’s locker room!”

“Okay, okay. I’m backing off for now, but I won’t hold my breath forever! I want my best friend back, not this lame version of him who’s always spaced out and secretive. And I better see you at Sana’s party tonight. No excuses!”

___

“One Iced Americano and one Peppermint Mocha” the barista announces, summoning you over to grab both drinks. You hand over the Americano to a stressed Park Jimin, who mutters a thanks, with his eyes still glued to his screen. Your surprised to even get those words out of him, considering he’s been in a zombie-like state for the past forty-five minutes.

“And….DONE!”

The entire café looks at your table, eyeing the man who looks as if he’s just won the lottery. Jimin sees you shift in your seat at the attention and instantly mouths an apology, head now low to avoid further attention.

“It’s okay, I think I would have done the same thing if I turned in an assignment 14 seconds before the deadline.”

“I’m in shock I pulled that off! I feel like a free man, Y/N. The world is at my feet.”

You can’t help but giggle at his sudden shift in mood, going from grouchy keyboard zombie to a man reborn.

“I honestly felt my life-source drain away just watching you work. I feel like I deserve a reward too. Want to come over and watch a movie tonight? I’ll make guac if you bring chips.”

“Tempting, but how about a party?”

Your brows raise.

“Park Jimin wants to throw a party?”

“Oh hell no, my cats would hate me forever if I let drunk college kids anywhere near their territory. I was suggesting going to Sana’s party.”

“That sounds fun! You should go! I think I’ll sit this one out though. Parties aren’t really my element.”

As cool as you try to sound, Jimin’s far too intuitive to not pick up on your disappointment.

“Wait no, forget about it. Movie night sounds good!”

“Jimin, it’s okay. Please go have fun. You deserve it after the hell week school has given you.”

“No, it’s fine, really. I’m feeling tired anyway so it’s probably better to stay in.”

You narrow your eyes at him, not buying the excuse one bit. You saw how his eyes lit up when bringing up the party just as much as you saw his shoulders droop at your refusal. As much as you appreciate his willingness to sacrifice, you absolutely hate dragging others down because of your anxiety. It’s one of the key reasons you don’t do boyfriends in the first place: you don’t want to hold anyone back. You need Jimin to understand that he’s not your boyfriend, thus he doesn’t have to do any of this for you. However, putting a temporary bandage on things seems much more appealing than getting into that conversation. So that’s exactly what you do.

“Look, I didn’t want to resort to this, but you made me. Park Jimin, if you do not get your cute ass to that party tonight, I will make you edge for so long that you start to forget what an orgasm even feels like.”

___

The sorority is decorated with strobe lights and streamers, loud music engulfing every attempt at a conversation—to the point where dancing and hooking up are the only viable options. Jimin chooses the former.

It’s been a while since he’s danced at a party instead of a studio, but it’s easy to adapt when the rhythm flows through him so effortlessly.

It’s when Rihanna’s “Please Don't Stop The Music” comes on that he notices the small crowd cheering him on. The attention is doing wonders for his praise kink, and he’s determined to bask in every second of it. Life, however, seems to have other plans, as his joy is short-lived. Around the time of the second chorus, his crowd-examining eyes make their way to the couch in the corner—where he sees an infamous mop of brown hair being tugged on by a handsy redhead, with her tongue down his throat, no less. As if feeling the gaze on him, Jungkook pulls away and turns to the source.

That’s when Jimin stops dancing.

He knows he shouldn’t feel betrayed since there were no labels on the three of you, but he feels once again stuck in a loop of insecurity. Why does everyone he grows attached to want someone else? Or multiple people? Why can he never be enough?

He pushes through the sweaty bodies to get out of the building, trying his best to block the intrusive thoughts about what his old domme used to say.

You’re just a plaything, pup.

You expect me to take you seriously when I know how easy you are. How much of a broken slut you are.

Aftercare is for people, not sex toys.

Tears pool around his eyes by the time he makes it outside. Already trembling, the cold weather does no favors to comfort him. And so he walks to the bus station, alone and shivering, wishing he could have been watching a movie with you instead.

____

A/N: I’m back!! Hope you like this part, and feel free to interact!

Tag list: @ttaekookss @lolalee24 @sweeneyblue1 @bandaged-despair @mwitsmejk @madygswich @namjooncrabs @akshstudios @severely-mentally-ill @everythangggoes @nikkiordonez12 @lathraios @channiespup @dreamamubarak @xoxostrawberrymilkxoxo @sonje78 @shadowmoon21

#jungkook x reader x jimin #jikook x reader #bts smut #sub bts #sub jungkook #sub jimin #university au #dom reader #bts au

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whumpster-fire · 3 years

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His Dark Materials Thoughts: Daemons and Disability / Neurodivergence

More stupid His Dark Materials thoughts and headcanons because I still can’t get over this series.

I’m really curious how various disabilities would interact with having a daemon. I’d guess that for a lot of conditions the daemon could basically fill the role of a service animal, especially if the person had the condition from childhood so they could settle in a form that was capable of helping - e.g. daemons assuming forms with strong senses of smell to check for allergens. And this would probably be true for some neurological conditions where there’s something physically messed up in your brain.

However, I think for neurodivergency, it’s different: if the human is neurodivergent their daemon is neurodivergent as well. And while a human and daemon are “one being,” daemons still have their own personalities and emotional needs.

Using autism as an example because I’m autistic and can speculate based on my own experiences:

Autistic people are usually very close to their daemons, even by the standards of the setting, because while anyone’s daemon inherently understands them better than other people do, the gap is much, much wider for ND people. Real talk, I think I was drawn to this series and the concept of daemons so strongly because the idea of a companion I could fully trust and interact with without the constant fear of breaking some unknown and unspoken rule and who fully empathized with me was something I wanted soooo badly.

A lot more sensory information is “transmitted” between human and daemon than most people notice because the brain tends to filter it out. Autistic people’s brains aren’t as good at filtering out “junk” sensory info though, and this includes what comes through over the bond between them. You can’t actually see through your daemon’s eyes but autistic people tend to feel shared sensations more intensely and pick up on things like smells and textures that a neurotypical brain would tune out (and this works in both directions). This makes autistic people more vulnerable to sensory overload than in our world.

Sometimes only one of the pair is verbal, or at least verbal with others / much more comfortable talking to others. If it’s the human, people tend to not notice because “daemons should be seen and not heard” is kind of the norm in the setting but if the daemon is speaking for the pair most of the time it’s seen as weird. Some autistic people may also be more comfortable talking to other people’s daemons than to the humans, which isn’t technically part of the taboo but it’s pretty frowned upon.

For both tactile-seeking and tactile-defensive people, the daemon’s settled form is often determined by the need for physical affection - either because as they grow into teenagers it becomes less socially acceptable to touch other people as much as they need to, or because the only touch that feels safe for the pair is with each other. A settled form doesn’t always follow the human’s preference, but is always a form the daemon is comfortable with and likes. Daemons settling in forms their human actively hates is rare, and usually means there was already serious conflict between them with the human refusing to accept their nature - i.e. sailors’ daemons usually take seabird forms or mammals like otters or minks that can stray away from the water, settling in a dolphin form was noteworthy for a reason because it’s such a drastic act, and IMO that was probably caused by the human trying to abandon the sea entirely and fighting with his own daemon about it until she was like “Let’s see you take us away from the sea now!”

But anyway: daemons don’t just settle in forms based on symbolism or social convention if it’s going to make both them and their humans miserable and/or mess up their relationship IMO, and usually they show a preference for forms similar to their settled one in the years leading up to settling (e.g. Pantalaimon clearly liked his stoat/ferret and wildcat forms and mostly took other ones for reasons of practicality and convenience, and I said this in another post but I think he became a pine marten because it was the closest he could get to combining the two). If a pre-adolescent human and daemon are super cuddly with each other and that touch is really important to them, the daemon will probably settle in a form that’s compatible with that. It’s rare for autistic daemons to settle as something as small as a mouse where they could only be carefully pet with one or two fingers, for example, and they usually take mammalian or sometimes avian forms.

Brushing a daemon’s fur, and other techniques such as joint compression that are hard for a person to perform on their own body, can help both of the pair calm down and cope with sensory issues.

Unfortunately, given how fucked up the culture in Lyra’s world is, I shudder to imagine how they treat neurodivergent people. I can totally imagine people treating this closeness as the cause of autism and not a symptom, and treating it as a child “being socially impaired because they only interact with their daemon / let their daemon do too much for them and never learn to socialize with other people.” Aside from attempting to cure autism with Intercision, there are probably a bunch of horrible, abusive treatments passed off as “therapy,” like forcing children to do therapy sessions with their daemon trapped on the other side of an opaque, soundproof wall (doesn’t interfere with their bond if it’s within the separation limit, but keeps them from seeing / hearing / touching each other), caging the daemon, muzzling them to keep them from speaking for their human, or even not letting them sleep in the same room.

Another common problem is parents / educators treating an autistic person’s daemon like a service animal and offloading their responsibilities on them. Just expecting them to handle something like a meltdown or panic attack by themselves because “You’re part of them, you understand them!” and ignoring that the daemon also has fears and anxieties and sensory issues.

Expectation: Your autistic child’s daemon understands them better than you ever could and will be able to quickly and discretely calm them down from a meltdown / sensory overload without you needing to get involved and actually do your job as a parent.

Reality: You have two autistic children who share a soul and feel each other’s emotions and pain, and one of them likely has at least one sense that’s way more sensitive than a human’s. They can certainly be a source of comfort and support to each other, and can pick up on each other’s warning signs and remind each other to use coping strategies / get out of stressful situations and not try to “push through,” but this is a skill that takes time and maturity to learn, and it only works before the pair are completely overwhelmed. As stated above autistic people feel sensations and emotions from their daemon extra-intensely, and vice versa. A full-on meltdown or panic attack is such an overpowering flood of negative emotions that, combined with the stress of whatever caused the meltdown in the first place, usually just overwhelms both partners, especially in children. The best you can hope for is whichever one holds it together a bit longer is able to help their partner into a safe place and ask someone for help. Even if the daemon (or human) doesn’t have a meltdown their emotional battery will still be absolutely drained for probably the rest of the day.

#His Dark Materials fandom #daemons #silly headcanons #autism #not whump

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sunflowersbloominthewinter · 2 years

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Dependent Personality Disorder Diagnostic Checklist

Original post made by shitborderlinesdo on tumblr. All information comes from the DSM V.

Section I

Must check TWO or more of the following:

I have cognition problems and difficulty perceiving myself, other people, and events.

I have affectivity problems and difficulty controlling the range and intensity of my emotional responses.

I have problems with interpersonal functioning and being aware of my own actions and feelings.

I have difficulty controlling my impulses.

4 / 4

Section II

Must check FIVE or more of the following:

I have difficulty making decisions without first getting advice from others.

I prefer for others to take responsibility in major areas of my life.

I have difficulty expressing disagreement with others because I fear loss of their support or approval.

I have difficulty starting projects or doing things on my own, mostly because of a lack of self-confidence rather than a lack of energy.

I go to excessive lengths in order to get support from others, to the point of putting myself in unpleasant or uncomfortable situations.

I feel incredibly helpless when I’m alone because of fears I have that I can’t take care of myself.

I urgently seek out new relationships as soon as a relationships ends, as I tend to see relationships as a source of care and support.

I am intensely preoccupied with fears of being left to take care of myself.

8 / 8

Section III

Must check ALL of the following:

My symptoms impair my personality and social functioning.

My symptoms are consistent across a broad range of personal and social situations.

My symptoms have lasted a while and started in early adulthood or earlier.

My symptoms are not caused by medication, drug use, or another medical condition.

I do not have another medical condition (such a chronic illness) which would make me naturally dependent, and my symptoms are purely psychological.

Section IV

Common Symptoms and Behaviors Associated:

I have separation anxiety.

I’m an incredibly passive person.

I hate making decisions and need opinions from others before feeling comfortable making a final call.

I depend on others to know things like where I should live and what kind of job I should have.

I am a different person depending on who I’m with at the time.

I feel better working when I have a supervisor.

I tend to do exactly what others want, even if their demands are unreasonable.

I feel like I sacrifice a lot for the people around me.

I am willing to tolerate lots of abuse if it means keeping peace.

I become easily attached.

I have low self-esteem and doubt myself a lot.

I often take criticism and disapproval as proof of how worthless I am.

I easily lose faith in myself.

I like for people to be overprotective of me.

I get anxious when faced with decisions.

15 / 15

#oh shit we probably have dpd #fuck #dpd #dependent personality disorder #self dx #self dx dpd #self diagnosed #dpd traits #dependent traits #mental health #mental illness

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

Recommendation engines and "lean-back" media

In William Gibson’s 1992 novel “Idoru,” a media executive describes her company’s core audience:

“Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

It’s an astonishingly great passage, not just for the image it evokes, but for how it captures the character of the speaker and her contempt for the people who made her fortune.

It’s also a beautiful distillation of the 1990s anxiety about TV’s role in a societal “dumbing down,” that had brewed for a long time, at least since the Nixon-JFK televised debates, whose outcome was widely attributed not to JFK’s ideas, but to Nixon’s terrible TV manner.

Neil Postman’s 1985 “Amusing Ourselves To Death” was a watershed here, comparing the soundbitey Reagan-Dukakis debates with the long, rhetorically complex Lincoln-Douglas debates of the previous century.

(Incidentally, when I finally experienced those debates for myself, courtesy of the 2009 BBC America audiobook, I was more surprised by Lincoln’s unequivocal, forceful repudiations of slavery abolition than by the rhetoric’s nuance)

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/20/lincoln-douglas-debate-audiobook-civics-history-and-rhetoric-lesson-in-16-hours/

“Media literacy” scholarship entered the spotlight, and its left flank — epitomized by Chomsky’s 1988 “Manufacturing Consent” — claimed that an increasingly oligarchic media industry was steering society, rather than reflecting it.

Thus, when the internet was demilitarized and the general public started trickling — and then rushing — to use it, there was a widespread hope that we might break free of the tyranny of concentrated, linear programming (in the sense of “what’s on,” and “what it does to you”).

Much of the excitement over Napster wasn’t about getting music for free — it was about the mix-tapification of all music, where your custom playlists would replace the linear album.

Likewise Tivo, whose ad-skipping was ultimately less important than the ability to watch the shows you liked, rather than the shows that were on.

Blogging, too: the promise was that a community of reader-writers could assemble a daily “newsfeed” that reflected their idiosyncratic interests across a variety of sources, surfacing ideas from other places and even other times.

The heady feeling of the time is hard to recall, honestly, but there was a thrill to getting up and reading the news that you chose, listening to a playlist you created, then watching a show you picked.

And while there were those who fretted about the “Daily Me” (what we later came to call the “filter bubble”) the truth was that this kind of active media creation/consumption ranged far more widely than the monopolistic media did.

The real “bubble” wasn’t choosing your own programming — it was everyone turning on their TV on Thursday nights to Friends, Seinfeld and The Simpsons.

The optimism of the era is best summarized in a taxonomy that grouped media into two categories: “lean back” (turn it on and passively consume it) and “lean forward” (steer your media consumption with a series of conscious decisions that explores a vast landscape).

Lean-forward media was intensely sociable: not just because of the distributed conversation that consisted of blog-reblog-reply, but also thanks to user reviews and fannish message-board analysis and recommendations.

I remember the thrill of being in a hotel room years after I’d left my hometown, using Napster to grab rare live recordings of a band I’d grown up seeing in clubs, and striking up a chat with the node’s proprietor that ranged fondly and widely over the shows we’d both seen.

But that sociability was markedly different from the “social” in social media. From the earliest days of Myspace and Facebook, it was clear that this was a sea-change, though it was hard to say exactly what was changing and how.

Around the time Rupert Murdoch bought Myspace, a close friend a blazing argument with a TV executive who insisted that the internet was just a passing fad: that the day would come when all these online kids grew up, got beaten down by work and just wanted to lean back.

To collapse on the sofa and consume media that someone else had programmed for them, anaesthetizing themselves with passive media that didn’t make them think too hard.

This guy was obviously wrong — the internet didn’t disappear — but he was also right about the resurgence of passive, linear media.

But this passive media wasn’t the “must-see TV” of the 80s and 90s.

Rather, it was the passivity of the recommendation algorithm, which created a per-user linear media feed, coupled with mechanisms like “endless scroll” and “autoplay,” that incinerated any trace of an active role for the “consumer” (a very apt term here).

It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I disliked about algorithmic recommendation/autoplay, but I knew I hated it. The reason my 2008 novel LITTLE BROTHER doesn’t have any social media? Wishful thinking. I was hoping it would all die in a fire.

Today, active media is viewed with suspicion, considered synonymous with Qanon-addled boomers who flee Facebook for Parler so they can stan their favorite insurrectionists in peace, freed from the tyranny of the dread shadowban.

But I’m still on team active media. I would rather people actively choose their media diets, in a truly sociable mode of consumption and production, than leaning back and getting fed whatever is served up by the feed.

Today on Wired, Duke public policy scholar Philip M Napoli writes about lean forward and lean back in the context of Trump’s catastrophic failure to launch an independent blog, “From the Desk of Donald J Trump.”

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-trumps-failed-blog-proves-he-was-just-howling-into-the-void/

In a nutshell, Trump started a blog which he grandiosely characterized as a replacement for the social media monopolists who’d kicked him off their platforms. Within a month, he shut it down.

While Trump claimed the shut-down was all part of the plan, it’s painfully obvious that the real reason was that no one was visiting his website.

Now, there are many possible, non-exclusive explanations for this.

For starters, it was a very bad social media website. It lacked even rudimentary social tools. The Washington Post called it “a primitive one-way loudspeaker,” noting its lack of per-post comments, a decades old commonplace.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/21/trump-online-traffic-plunge/

Trump paid (or more likely, stiffed) a grifter crony to build the site for him, and it shows: the “Like” buttons didn’t do anything, the video-sharing buttons created links to nowhere, etc. From the Desk… was cursed at birth.

But Napoli’s argument is that even if Trump had built a good blog, it would have failed. Trump has a highly motivated cult of tens of millions of people��— people who deliberately risked death to follow him, some even ingesting fish-tank cleaner and bleach at his urging.

The fact that these cult-members were willing to risk their lives, but not endure poor web design, says a lot about the nature of the Trump cult, and its relationship to passive media.

The Trump cult is a “push media” cult, simultaneously completely committed to Trump but unwilling to do much to follow him.

That’s the common thread between Fox News (and its successors like OANN) and MAGA Facebook.

And it echoes the despairing testimony of the children of Fox cultists, that their boomer parents consume endless linear TV, turning on Fox from the moment they arise and leaving it on until they fall asleep in front of it (also, reportedly, how Trump spent his presidency).

Napoli says that Trump’s success on monopoly social media platforms and his failure as a blogger reveals the role that algorithmically derived, per-user, endless scroll linear media played in the ascendancy of his views.

It makes me think of that TV exec and his prediction of the internet’s imminent disappearance (which, come to think of it, is not so far off from my own wishful thinking about social media’s disappearance in Little Brother).

He was absolutely right that this century has left so many of us exhausted, wanting nothing more than the numbness of lean-back, linear feeds.

But up against that is another phenomenon: the resurgence of active political movements.

After a 12-month period that saw widescale civil unrest, from last summer’s BLM uprising to the bizarre storming of the capital, you can’t really call this the golden age of passivity.

While Fox and OANN consumption might be the passive daily round of one of Idoru’s “vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organisms craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed,” that is in no way true of Qanon.

Qanon is an active pastime, a form of collaborative storytelling with all the mechanics of the Alternate Reality Games that the lean-forward media advocates who came out of the blogging era love so fiercely:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/06/no-vitiated-air/#other-hon

Meanwhile, the “clicktivism” that progressive cynics decried as useless performance a decade ago has become an active contact sport, welding together global movements from Occupy to BLM that use the digital to organize the highly physical.

That’s the paradox of lean-forward and lean-back: sometimes, the things you learn while leaning back make you lean forward — in fact, they might just get you off the couch altogether.

I think that Napoli is onto something. The fact that Trump’s cultists didn’t follow him to his crummy blog tells us that Trump was an effect, not a cause (something many of us suspected all along, as he’s clearly neither bright nor competent enough to inspire a movement).

But the fact that “cyberspace keeps everting” (to paraphrase “Spook Country,” another William Gibson novel) tells us that passive media consumption isn’t a guarantee of passivity in the rest of your life (and sometimes, it’s a guarantee of the opposite).

And it clarifies the role that social media plays in our discourse — not so much a “radicalizer” as a means to corral likeminded people together without them having to do much. Within those groups are those who are poised for action, or who can be moved to it.

The ease with which these people find one another doesn’t produce a deterministic outcome. Sometimes, the feed satisfies your urge for change (“clicktivism”). Sometimes, it fuels it (“radicalizing”).

Notwithstanding smug media execs, the digital realm equips us to “express our mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire” by doing much more than “changing the channels on a universal remote” — for better and for worse.

Image: Ian Burt (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/267206444

CC BY: https://creativecommo

ns.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

Bad Liar

Moreid (Spencer x Derek)

Masterlist

Summary: Ever since his first day at Quantico, Spencer has had only one thought on his mind: SSA Derek Morgan. He knows that any sort of relationship would be inappropriate, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of fantasies from flooding his mind.

Category: Spicy fluff, smut alluded

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of sex, fantasizing, suggestive touching, kissing, very light cussing.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. I know that I haven’t been very active and haven’t posted anything in a while, but sometimes life just happens. Hopefully this was worth the wait…

Spencer had heard the phrase “I never stop thinking about you.” He’d heard it in reference to love and relationships when people were apparently so madly in love they couldn’t stop thinking about the other. He never really bought that. Love was just a bunch of feel-good chemicals that couldn’t affect the amount of time spent thinking about another person. Plus, how could anyone ever constantly think about a person? There were so many other things to think about like surviving high school, getting into college, graduating, of course his mom, and then getting into the FBI, and how he would surely not be able to make it all the way through Quantico training. No one could ever think about one person all the time. No, definitely not.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

His first day at Quantico he saw Derek Morgan, and he realized that he was wrong. He was so utterly and outrageously wrong.

Because after he saw him, heard his voice just once, his exceptional mind kept those interactions on constant repeat.

He was lucky he was so good at multitasking otherwise he would have definitely failed by now.

Not like he still wouldn’t.

He couldn’t sleep, not with someone like Derek Morgan intruding his every thought, every midnight desire. On top of that, they were about to go into the hardest week of physical training yet, and Spencer knew that this was the one challenge that his brain could not overcome.

The one redeemable thing about the humiliating experience he was sure would come during the following days was that he’d get to see SSA Morgan again. Sure, it'd be more embarrassing to fail in front of him, but at least he’d get to see him a few more times before they kicked him out for being the scrawny kid he’s always been.

The feelings of excitement and anxiety twisted his gut into a wonderful knot, keeping him from yet another night of sleep. Somehow that made it both harder and easier for him to get up when the clock hit 4:45.

Spencer looked between two blinds covering the window on the right, allowing him to see that the sun was still about an hour from rising. Slipping on his given shirt and pants, he hoped that there would be some source of caffeine at breakfast, preferably coffee.

He trudged into the bathroom to find his roommate already awake and dressed. “Big day. You excited?” Jeff, a man about a head shorter than Spencer but at least twice his width in pure muscle mass, asked.

Spencer just grunted in response.

“What? You’re not excited to get pitted against someone else so that you can flail around in an attempt to spar?”

“I’ll stick to teaching you the technique,” he quipped.

Jeff laughed. “It’d suit you better. Unfortunately your wizard brain and forbidden library won’t help you in this one. But dammit if you aren’t the smartest guy here.” Jeff shook his head as if it were a shame.

Once they were ready, along with the rest of the NATs, the group was directed to jog across campus to the building they’d be training in. The day was off to a bad start.

Spencer did his best to distract himself from the actual running bit, trying to analyze the people in his group and those they passed as they went.

Bored, hungry, important, invisible… Derek?!

He turned his head to follow the tall man with short black hair and dark eyes as the group passed him on the sidewalk.

No, that wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. Agent Morgan is waiting for us at the facility.

Spencer tried to hide the slight disappointment that came over him. He felt so stupid for looking for him everywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Even his own knowledge and logic was failing him when it came to this man he knew next to nothing about expect for his shining smile and intense eyes and toned biceps and amazing abs and powerful legs and delicious stamina and strong hands that could grip his neck and hold him down and his defined hips bones that Spencer knew would dig into his thighs and certainly leave bruises if he were to…

What was his issue? He couldn’t be thinking that way about one of his trainors.

Although it helped the jog pass by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? Or at least imagining having fun.

When they arrived at the other facility, they were provided a quick breakfast, unfortunately no coffee today, and then led to the top floor with an entire wall traded out for floor to ceiling windows.

The room they entered was massive, large mats rolled out edge to edge, and the smell was musty. It felt humid, sticky sort of, and Spencer hated to think about why that was.

He quickly scanned the room and found his target immediately. Across the way, Derek had his opponent mid flip, landing harshly on his back with a thud. He helped the poor guy up, laughing a bit as he did so. His pearly whites were on full display when he looked up and caught Spencer’s eye. Spencer quickly diverted his gaze, opting instead to look down at his twisting hands.

“Today we will be focusing on hand to hand combat,” Derek announced once the group had wandered closer. “You never know when the perpetrator will decide not to run and instead to attack you, or when you will find yourself without any weapons other than yourself to protect you. The first thing we are going to practice are some basic jabs. Grab a partner and follow our demonstration.”

Derek and the man he’d thrown on the ground earlier, Grant, demonstrated the seemingly simple movements that Spencer and the rest of the NATs were supposed to replicate. Of course, everyone else made it look easy, but Spencer just couldn’t wrap his head around what his arm was supposed to be doing where and when. It was frustrating, even more so than he’d prepared himself for.

“Keep your shoulders here,” that velvety deep voice said, accompanied by his large hands on either of Spencer’s shoulders, adjusting them to more of an angle.

All Spencer could do was swallow hard and nod. He didn’t even dare to look back at him.

“And spread your legs,” Derek said. His breath seemed to get closer to Spencer’s neck with every word, and quieter as he went along. But surely that was all in his head? Right?

Spencer’s startled eyes turned to look at the older man. The edges of his mouth twitched before resuming that stern, professional demeanour. “It’ll help you balance.” With that, he nudged Spencer’s foot farther backwards with his own and walked away, leaving Spencer feeling unnecessarily exposed and confused.

The guy across from him, Harold, one of the only people who had been genuinely nice to Spencer from the start, was watching the whole interaction with suspicion.

The day trudged on with not much change. Spencer’s skin was still on fire from where Agent Morgan had touched him, but he tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t really like being touched. He knew that was a lie, especially in this instance, but it didn’t stop him from telling it.

After lunch, training continued. But at least it got more interesting.

“Grant just got called out on a case, so I’ll be needing someone to help me with this demonstration.” Derek waited just about three whole seconds before smirking, the mischief written all over his face. “Come on? No one wants to volunteer? It’ll be fun, I promise.” When he was met with more silence (even the guys like Jeff didn’t want to be thrown around by Derek), he was forced to choose someone. “How about… Reid.”

Spencer’s head shot up from the back of the group. No, no, this is not good.

Spencer had been dreaming about getting thrown around by Derek for a few months now, but this was definitely not what he’d had in mind.

The crowd slowly parted and Spencer had to face the music; he was going to be humiliated in front of everyone, like nothing had changed since high school.

Sighing, Spencer forced himself to the front of the group. “Lay down for me, knees bent, would you?”

I’d do anything you asked, was Spencer’s initial response in his head. What he really did was shrug and follow instructions.

“The reason we practice this move is because at some point or another, you will find yourself in either position.” Spencer wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until Derek legitimately stood over him, a leg on either side, then proceeded to get down on his knees, essentially sitting on top of Spencer.

He couldn’t even focus on what Derek was explaining anymore. Breathing didn’t exist. There was no way this glorious man was sitting on top of him right now. All he could think about was how prominent Derek’s ab muscles were through his tight shirt and how he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and run his tongue over them. Spencer could almost imagine what they would feel like; the rise and fall of his muscles, the small hairs covering his body… Spread your legs, he had said to him.

“So then Reid would grab my wrist…” Derek’s use of his name brought him back to reality. If only he could live in his fantasies for longer.

Spencer looked up at Agent Morgan confused. Derek’s eyes got wider and looked at his right hand and then down at his own left wrist. Spencer somehow got the message and reached his hand over to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist. “Good,” he declared. “After that, he would hook his left foot on the outside of my ankle.”

Spencer quickly followed orders, trying to force his brain to supply him with the information he’d missed.

“Then, he’d use my weight against me to flip me over.” Spencer’s eyes got big when Derek said that, mentally panicking that he could never be strong enough for that. Derek nodded at him, so Spencer tried to roll over, and to his, and everyone else’s, surprise, he actually could.

Within seconds Spencer was sitting on top of a very pleased Derek. “It’ll work every time. Of course, if your unsub is skilled he’ll lock you in and flip you back over and potentially pull your arm out of your socket,” Derek explained while doing just that to Spencer, minus the arm-out-of-socket thing, “But we’ll take this one step at a time.”

Derek was back on top of Spencer with his legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip, but quickly let go to help him up. Spencer gladly accepted the help.

Spencer doesn’t exactly have what one would consider a “big dick.” He always thought that was something to be ashamed of but standing there, getting hard in the middle of an FBI training academy, he couldn’t’ve be more grateful.

The NATs were sent back to work on the newly demonstrated move with their partners. Just as Spencer was about to flip Harold over for the third time, he looked over his head and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“What is it with you two?” Harold asked in return.

“What?” Spencer repeated. Harold nodded in the direction he was just looking, and Spencer followed his gaze. Derek was walking by, but nothing else seemed of import. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Harold snorted. He was a lanky man like Spencer, but just a bit shorter and with glasses. Sometimes Spencer envied his glasses, as his contacts often got on his nerves. He continued, “The touching, the constant eye contact, the word choice that could be inherently sexual, and then literally sitting on top of you? When there were plenty of other men and women he could have picked for that demonstration? Tell me you don’t see it.”

Spencer mulled over these words for a few seconds before flipping Harold over. Looking down on him, he said, “I don’t think that means anything.”

“Then maybe you need to get a new prescription,” Harold said, pointing to his eyes.

Spencer shook his head. “What do my eyes have to do with this?”

Harold sighed. “God, your gaydar is so broken.” He flipped Spencer over, stood up, and walked away.

Shortly after, class was called and they were all let go for the remainder of the evening.

“Reid, can I speak to you for a moment?” Agent Morgan called out as the first of the NATs started to leave. A few caught Spencer’s eye with unanswered questions in them, but no more than the mound of questions Spencer had been asking himself.

Without answering, Spencer walked over to the corner of the room that Derek was standing in. He could tell that he was waiting for every single person to leave the room before speaking.

Spencer thought for sure he was getting kicked out because of how horribly he performed throughout the day.

To his surprise, that’s not at all what the outstandingly attractive man had to say. “I wanted to let you know that you did a good job today during the demo. Not many people handle that so well.”

Spencer waited for him to say more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. Derek actually seemed a bit nervous if Spencer could read him right. He replied cautiously, “Thanks.”

Derek cleared his voice and said, “Yeah. And if you ever want to stay late and work on some moves I’d be happy to help.”

Spencer just got more and more confused as his interactions with this god-like man increased. “Thanks,” he repeated. “Why are you offering to help me like that?”

Agent Morgan shrugged. “You’re one of the smartest people in FBI history to come through here, and definitely the youngest. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t become an agent, and I want to see you succeed. That’s all.” He shrugged again, and if there was anything Spencer had learned from the profiling section of his training, someone being over-casual was usually a sign that they were stressed about something they viewed with extreme importance, and were trying to play it off. Why would he be stressed to talk to me?

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Will you be here tomorrow?” Spencer asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice. Who was he kidding; Derek was already one of the top profilers in the Bureau.

“I will be. You can plan to stay after then.”

Spencer nodded and walked away, but not before glancing back one more time. Harold was right; they did make a lot of eye contact.

The next day couldn’t go by faster. Spencer had spent practically the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, trying to figure out if Harold was right or not. There was no way. Spencer was just Spencer, a NAT, and Derek Morgan was, well… Derek Morgan.

He probably just thought that Spencer was a hopeless case and needed extra help. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

When the day was over, Spencer wasn’t just relieved like he usually was, but he was excited too. It no longer mattered to him what the reason was for him being there late, he just wanted to spend more time in the presence of SSA Morgan.

“I was thinking I’d help you with that second move we learned today, the cross-punch jab combo,” Derek announced. His voice echoed just a bit off the walls of the training center now that it was completely abandoned.

He walked over to one of the punching bags lined up just a few feet from the wall, and Spencer followed him in a manner that could only be described as a lost puppy. Spencer could keep track of all sorts of numbers, but the sheer amount of repeating memories morphing into new thoughts morphing into full blown fantasies was even too high for him to count. He’d never known of a drug so powerful.

“I’ll show you the move again, then I want you to try and copy it.” Derek stepped closer to the bag and executed a textbook one-two combo, the muscles in his arms and back contracting in perfect unison. God, Spencer wanted so badly to just reach out and run his hands all over this pristinely sculpted man, but he denied himself, letting his hands tremble in place instead.

Spencer stepped up to the bag next to Derek’s and attempted to do the same thing. Derek watched with a sharp eye.

After a few reps, the skilled agent took long strides that landed him only inches away from the younger man’s back. “Keep tension here.” His hands engulfed Spencer’s waist and twisted them to the side with the ease of swatting a fly.

The feeling was so overwhelming Spencer thought he might never be able to move again, and honestly, he didn’t want to. Standing there in the grip of that man was really all he’d been wanting for months now.

The only thing that pulled him out of his trance was the way Derek’s fingers lingered as he walked around to Spencer’s front, drifting down far enough to send a clear message, one that even Spencer couldn’t miss, but not far enough to be completely intrusive.

But Spencer wanted intrusive. He wanted nothing more than for Derek Morgan to invade his personal space to the point of no return.

He looked at the older man with shock and a burning question, but didn’t flinch or move back. Derek simply bit his lip and scanned Spencer up and down at what felt like a snail’s pace. He felt like a helpless deer being sized up by a lion for his next meal.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d been wanting nothing more than to be in this very same situation, or one of the multitudes of variations he’d created in his mind, but now that it was here could he really go through with it? Was it really the best idea? Did he really want this? No, he couldn’t.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

The only signal Derek needed was the simple nod of Spencer’s head.

And he got it.

Like a snake ready to strike, Derek brought his lips to Spencer’s in an instant. His questioning fingers had an answer, returning to their strong hold over Spencer’s hip bones.

Spencer knew what was happening was completely inappropriate, but couldn’t find the will to care. The man he’d been dreaming about, spending every waking and non-waking moment obsessing over, was actually interested in him too.

All his fantasies were flashing before his eyes, Derek’s muscles now completely exposed to him. He frantically pawed at him, trying to feel and memorize every millimeter of the beautiful body before him, like every inch was another drop of water in his achingly dry mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Derek whispered. “Patience. Not everything can happen at once, remember, one step at a time.”

Spencer took a moment to breathe and look into the warm eyes he’d been drowning in. Only for a moment, though, as he had a lot he wanted to do, starting with kissing his way down this man’s chest.

Derek laughed a little at Spencer’s impatience when he placed his hands on his broad shoulders and lips on his burning hot skin. He didn’t mind, though. Unexpectedly, the young man knew how to use his mouth. He couldn’t wait to explore that particular skill set some more.

Within the next few minutes, bodies were slammed into walls, forced to the ground, and pushed further down into the floor than was previously thought possible. The echo of the room only amplified the intoxicating sounds and the wall of windows overlooking the campus only increased the arousal.

Spencer would have a new appreciation for the musty smell and sweat induced humidity in the room from now on.

The tension for the remaining month before the NATs graduated was unbearable. Harold made sure to point out the nauseating amount of glances passed between the two men, but was respectful enough to not point it out to everyone. He tried to deny anything had happened, but Harold wasn’t having any of it and let Spencer know he was a lousy liar, something he definitely needed to work on.

Come graduation day when all NATs would be receiving their department assignments, Derek made sure to personally hand Spencer his.

He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper with one bolded line reading: “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Spencer immediately looked up and locked eyes with Derek. He simply smirked in return.

Maybe his fantasy of having something more with the agent would become a reality after all.

Taglist

@90spumkin

#criminal minds fanfic #derek x spencer #moreid #dr spencer reid fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #spencer reid #reid #derek morgan #morgan

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eppysboys · 3 years

Note

I think Paul stans hate Stu because Stu was just as mean back but never got called out for it

Well, that's incredibly misguided of them!

First of all........this idea that Stuart was 'just as mean' comes from fans pointing at three sources* in partiuclar and drawing conclusions to soothe their own anxieties about Paul not being perfect. This is not a case, from my point of view, of two people bullying each other in equal mesaure, whatever that means. Yeah, it sucks Paul gets all the bad press for picking on him and being jealous when George was jealous and John + George were cruel to Stuart too. I'm not denying that, I'm not trying to make Paul a villain. I just object to the weird /need/ to make sure Paul comes across as clean and shiny as possible and take some quotes and twist them into a case for a Stuart Sutcliffe that 'was just as mean'.

Consider that just about everyone Stuart knew would use the word 'gentle' to describe him - never one to initiate a fight. But he would stand up for himself at times, and good on him. So maybe, just maybe, he got fed up with John's friends picking on him constantly with jealous jabs and snapped back? Just a thought?

*First source is the money thing. Something Paul never mentioned himself (maybe understandably worried about the unfair 'stingy' label he's gotten by some people). The money quote was in the context of borrowing packets of cigarettes, but we don't know how much money Stuart and John were borrowing to wind up Paul. Stuart had spit out the silver spoon and was not recieving welfare because he had entered art school too young to be eligble and wasn't recieving help from his mother, it seems. I understand that's not how inter-class tensions work, but you know.

Second is Stuart refusing to let Paul and Dot stay over at Astrid's place and having an intense outburst in the aftermath of Paul and Stuart's fight on stage.

"Dot must have sensed things were coming to a head, because the next night, while she and Cynthia were “dollying up” at Astrid’s house, the phone rang. It was Stuart, convulsed by a white rage, sounding completely irrational. When he learned that Dot was there, “he insisted that Astrid toss me out,” Dot recalls. Astrid calmed him down enough to determine what had happened: Paul and Stuart had finally had it out, not in private but onstage in the middle of a set, in full view of an astonished German audience."

I don't excuse Stuart's cruel and mean side. I'm just cautious and sympathetic because I remember that in the lead up to that fight was the start of Stuart's health problems (headaches, weight loss, nausea attacks, exhaustion, indigestion) that were causing great frustration and pain for him and would lead to 'uncharacteristic anger flare ups and paranoia' + Paul and George had upped their game and were treating Stuart especially poorly since he had come back from Hamburg and rejoined the band + Paul had been taunting him with certain words about Astrid, someone he loved and cared about most of all + other personal stressors + all the shit we don't know.

*Third is the from the same source above, (presumably it's Dot) saying Stuart 'flaunted [his friendship with John]. Time and again, he put it under Paul’s nose and gave it a scornful swish.'

So that's it, from what I've seen, is the case for Stuart being 'just as mean'......... compared to mountains of first hand sources outlining a situation where a gentle, passive young man is teased and picked on and tries to retaliate despite being outnumbered and outsized and his efforts to be a good friend to these people.

He died at 21 before he could have the opportunity to reflect on his behaviour like Paul did. How biographers frame their relationship is not his fault and not his doing. If you don't want the Stuart vs Paul thing to be a bigger deal than it is, then have compassion for both of them and don't pick sides! They were boys!

I understand wanting to analyse how biographers talk about this and apply context and stand up for Paul where it is deserved, but I've seen wild takes that are clearly a product of anxiety about how Paul is framed and the need for everything to always be everyone else's fault and never his.

#asks #maybe i'm more sensitive because of experience with bullying+ chronic health conditions that alter your temperament and how it affects you #or maybe it's just common sense and empathy for two teenagers in a very stressful environment!#Personally #I think Stuart just deserved better friends in the first place ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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emilyoftheshadows · 3 years

Text

Aside peasant! I came to see your cats, not you.

Hello everyone! I have been a bit absent lately form tumblr, but life hits you like a truck. I have come back with another fluffy rowaelin drabble based on the prompt above. I hope you guys enjoy :)

wordcount // 1204

**********

Aelin’s phone buzzed from under the mess she had created around herself. The sound disrupted her train of thought, causing her to glance away from the bright laptop screen set on her lap. Her day had consisted of nothing but staring at that bright screen in front of her, adding on to the mass of writing she had started only hours before. Aelin had managed to push off her mid- term paper with the skill of a trained procrastinator with years of experience. The paper was on a topic she truly cared about, the issue of misrepresentation of women in the film industry, but her motivation had been slim pickings and time had passed her by at an alarming rate. With 1 hour and 32 minutes before midnight, Aelin was typing like her life depended on it. Quite frankly, it did.

The assignment was more than important for Aelin and determined a good chunk of her grade that semester. With her nerves on edge, she had barred Rowan from the apartment all day to avoid further distraction. One heated glance, or the brush of his arm against hers as he sat down next to her and she knew it would all be over. So with a quick peck on the lips and some minor shoving, Aelin had sent Rowan out for the day to do anything but be at their apartment.

As she tried to retrieve her phone from the piles of pillows, blankets, papers, and pens sprawled out on her couch, Mango pounced on her hand, ready to attack the source of sound. All day he had pranced about Aelin’s work area sniffing papers, batting at the air, and occasionally napping next to her leg. The fat cat was dumb as a rock, but Aelin was more fond of him than she cared to admit. His purring eased her nerves and provided a short relief to her stress. She shooed the bastard off of her hand though, finally grasping the phone stuck between the blankets tangled around her lower body.

For a quick moment, she debated whether or not to answer the call. Her communication with Rowan had been sparse all day and she didn’t have the time to sooth his anxieties about her own until after midnight. But, as Mango plopped down on her lap once more ready to be loved, Aelin decided this call would be her short break for the rest of the night.

Rowan’s face popped onto her screen, a scowl already present on his beautiful face. Without even talking, Aelin knew she was in the dog house.

“Baby, why haven’t you been answering me? I sent you texts about lunch, coffee, and dinner that you haven’t answered. Have you eaten at all today?”

Rowan knew her too well, because she hadn’t eaten now that she thought about it. There was a possibility that she had scarfed down some crackers earlier, but Aelin couldn’t recall whether the memory was true or not. Her buzzard was being a helicopter boyfriend, with good intentions, but she couldn’t have him come home ready to argue and distract her further in the process.

“I know, I’m sorry babe. I am so stressed right now and time slipped by me all day and I never got the chance to eat.”

Rowan started to react to her statement, mouth opened wide in an attempt to argue but Aelin butted in again.

“Stop, stop I know. Here’s the deal: you go get takeout for two as a late dinner, you come home silently and go eat by yourself while I multi-task and continue to finish the paper that is now due in 1 hour and 15 min thanks to this conversation, then after I submit we talk about today and I apologize for my bad habits. Sound good?” Aelin knew she was being a bit snappy, but Rowan was a big boy and knew her moods for what they were.

“Okay baby, sounds good but can I add one more thing to that deal?”

Curious, Aelin tilted her head to encourage his next statement.

“I get the bastard too until you're done with your work.”

Aelin looked down at the orange and white lump in her lap, purring with content as she stroked his ears in a constant rhythm. Ironically, Rowan had been hesitant about Aelin bringing her cat when they moved in together all those months ago. But they both knew that Aelin and Mango were a packaged deal, you got all or nothing. So, Rowan had bitten his tongue and gotten ready to deal with the hell that was a cat. As time had gone on though, the two boys had gotten along better than expected until Rowan was a full blown cat dad, buying Mango special mouse toys from the local pet shop in Terresan.

Because of this budding relationship, Aelin wasn’t surprised that this was his only demand. As much as she hated to give Mango up, Aelin would do whatever she had to get Rowan out of her hair when he got back.

Looking back at the screen, Aelin wanted to wipe that smug smile off of his face. Instead, she responded with a short "fuck you" instead. As Rowan’s emerald eyes lit up and laughter rumbled out of his chest, Aelin smiled back and hung up the phone. Mango watched with wide eyes as she set her phone down, woken up by the abrupt noises. With a few good kisses to his head, Aelin lifted him unceremoniously off her lap so she could replace him with the computer once more.

Aelin began to type and revise, once again losing track of the time. The paper was almost done as she heard the keys jingle in the lock. With one more read through for mistakes, all she had to do was submit and her personal hell would finally be over. As the door opened, Aelin snatched the fatass from his perch on the couch arm and attempted to hide him behind her body.

The door swung open, Rowan appearing with his keys in one hand and their food in the other. Aelin smiled at the sight before her. With his casual joggers and raggedy gray t-shirt, he still took her breath away every time. As Rowan turned back around to set their food down on the table in front of her, Aelin opened up her arms for a hug.

"Hey babe come here I mi-" Rowan cut her off mid sentence, determined to get his part of the deal and go hide to eat his dinner.

"Aside peasant! I came to see your cat, not you." Rowan towered over her, grabbing the pudgy animal from the hiding spot behind her back. As he whisked the cat away from the room, his food container in the other arm, Rowan turned around and winked at Aelin from her position on the couch.

How dare he. Well if that's how he wanted to be tonight , Aelin could dish out what she was served. This little game Rowan started was about to get intense, but before she could torture the man chowing down Chinese food in their kitchen, Aelin needed to finish this damn paper.

taglist:

@rowaelinismyotp

@morganofthewildfire

@throneofmak

@whimsicallyreading

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autisticandroids · 3 years

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hey so you know how you said a while back that cas doesnt really have a moc/demon dean or soulless Sam equivalent but if he did he would act the same bc hes horny and loves dean?? I agree and he would just do it WAY more unabashedly. my question is, in the version of spn where the writers are smarter AND more homophobic, how would they justify cas's actions? bc they cant use the cloak of humanity bc cas doesnt give a FUCK about humanity. so what would they do

okay the thing is that cas doesn't have a demon dean/soulless sam style arc because it wouldn't... do anything? the thing about cas is that he doesn't have inhibitions in the traditional sense. like he doesn't... feel the eyes of god or society watching him.

i had a long conversation with @pietacastiel the other day about whether cas has the capacity for "should" - and he really just... doesn't. there are two things that stand in for "should" for cas - one, "if i do this, [insert other person (usually dean but not always)] will like me," and two, "[insert person who i trust and obey] has told me to do this, and i will obey their command blindly because i am a good boy."

like, basically, number one is an essentially machiavellian calculation. he's trying to be someone that other people want around, so he makes himself useful to them or enjoyable to be around or likeable or what have you. it's entirely self-serving and probably wouldn't change if you took away his inhibitions or his empathy or his conscience or whatever.

number two is like... it's too intellectual to count as inhibitions, exactly - it's explicit rules that he has set down for himself, without internalizing. to give an example, cas knows that he's not supposed to watch porn in a room full of dudes, and he's not supposed to talk about it, but he will never understand WHY those things are true. he will just obey those commands.

in terms of other ethical behavior that cas demonstrates... the thing about cas is that he's just a nice person? he's highly empathetic, he likes to make other people happy, he likes to be friends, he's a sweetheart. he genuinely wants the best for people. he particularly wants the best for his nearest and dearest. this is what's going on when he heals babies, or decides that he's not gonna kill kelly, or sacrifices his life for dean. he is fundamentally doing what he wants. he wants dean to be alive more than he wants to not be dead, you know?

this is actually one of the things that makes cas so dangerous: empathy is fickle. if the only thing that's standing between you and murdering somebody is you liking that somebody and wanting to be their friend, you might murder them once they piss you off. or once something comes up that makes them being dead more valuable to you than you being their friend. and this is why cas is kind of a terrible person! this is why he's constantly doing war crimes. he doesn't really have a system of ethics.

now, here's the thing: cas does carry around a lot of guilt, but it's deeply ineffectual. it doesn't really change his behavior towards other people. it only really does two things: first of all, it convinces him that other people hate him and don't want him around. this intensifies his desperate need to be liked, and therefore his trying to be liked, but isn't the root of it. second of all, it makes him punish himself, stuff like trying to stay in purgatory.

now, if we did a demon dean/soulless sam situation on cas... what would that look like?

well, he would certainly lose all that guilt he's carrying around, but how would that affect his behavior? the main two effects, i think, would be to make him more confident and therefore bolder in terms of trying to be liked, and make him stop punishing himself/deciding that he deserves bad things.

the confidence boost might lead to him, say, throwing himself at dean a bit more than he does, but i don't think the change would be radical. i think it would just be kicked up a notch. but it's an issue of rational judgement more than inhibitions so i think he would stay basically the same. now, cas' judgement isn't the best, and in the context of relationships at least, if nowhere else, his guilt complex does semi-effectively combat his natural tendency towards total overconfidence, so it might have some serious effect, but i still argue it's rather a matter of degrees.

and him not punishing himself so much might lead to him doing things like getting more mad when dean treats him poorly, but not that much more, because fundamentally the reason cas doesn't get mad when dean treats him badly isn't because he thinks he deserves it - he does think that, but mostly he's just scared that if he gets mad or sets boundaries dean won't like him anymore. again, it's a matter of judgement. he's probably less scared that dean won't like him anymore if he sets boundaries because the elimination of the guilt complex makes him less convinced that everyone hates him, but the anxiety is still there - it's just less intense.

in terms of cas' other sources of ethics and inhibitions - wanting to be liked, obedience, empathy - these would be affected differently if he was like soulless sam and if he was like demon dean.

if cas lost his inhibitions the way soulless sam did... he wouldn't change that much, at least in terms of his personal relationships. he would lose his capacity for empathy, which means that he would be more likely to be a dick to randos on the street, or commit war crimes, but it wouldn't really change how he conducts his relationships, because the inhibitions he holds in relationships are intellectual, they're a matter of judgement anyhow. honestly i think he might still, for example, happily die for dean, if we're arguing that soullessness comes from a lack of empathy or conscience rather than a lack of all emotion, because his desire for dean to be alive is entirely selfish. he likes the world more with dean in it and that's that. so i think soulless cas would be more likely to be a dick behind the scenes - maybe pull some godstiel arc ass shit again - but it wouldn't necessarily change his treatment of those closest to him that much.

now, a demon dean style loss of inhibitions would look different, because demon dean's basic emotions weren't dampened - he was made more selfish and hedonistic and rebellious, and didn't care about other people. interestingly, demon dean didn't seem to lose his capacity for empathy - remember in black when he punched that guy who was abusive to that girl? he didn't do that because it was the right thing to do - he did it because it felt good, because he empathized with her situation and it gave him a rush to get her out of it. so a demonized cas' empathy is intact. but his "shoulds" - those are all out of whack. he's actively rebelling against them. obviously he would simply no longer obey the ones that are like, "follow this rule and you will never know why." but he would also stop trying to be liked. i think demon cas might in fact tell dean that he's been in love with him for years - while screaming an itemized list of every fucked up thing dean has ever done to cas in his face, and telling him to never speak to him again. hell, we've seen cas throw a temper tantrum like this before - "you're not my family, dean, i have no family" in the man who knew to much. demon cas would be like that except without it then causing him to have an immediate mental breakdown.

i would argue, however, that cas has had his own loss of inhibitions comparable to demon dean and soulless sam - crazy cas. it even follows the alliteration pattern, heh. this is because cas' inhibitions are far more in his brain than his heart, and to get rid of them you need to impair his judgement, not fuck with his feelings. like, his shoulds are entirely intellectual. i want to be liked, therefore i should do this, which will effectively cause other people to like me. i want to be a good boy for god/dean, therefore i will obey this rule they gave me. if you fuck with cas' judgement, you fuck with those inhibitions. so arguably crazy cas is cas' equivalent to demon dean and soulless sam.

anyway, to answer your question, i feel like soulless cas wouldn't necessarily need a cover, like, he might, oh, i don't know, covertly arrange more opportunities to be alone with dean or stuff like that, but he's not going to try and sleep with him because he still has most of his inhibitions in tact. demon cas they might have to admit is in love with dean and then kill, because i think demon cas would probably kiss dean and then punch him and leave. you know. and crazy cas we saw in canon.

#spn #asks #anonymous

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rocorambles · 4 years

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Maybe Everything Will Be Okay (Part 1)

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Summary: You are the ex-manager of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team and Oikawa’s ex-girlfriend and now you’re about to get together with the 3rd years for the first time in 10 years. Will everything be okay?

Part 2, Part 3

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. The mantra cycles in your head, but it’s hard to fight down the rising anxiety in your chest as you stand in front of the entrance to the Aoba Johsai volleyball court. The place that once was a source of so many joyful memories is now the reason for the tremble in your steps as you approach the doorway.

10 years. An entire decade. That’s how long it’s been since you were in this very gym encouraging the reserved first years...a mental image of a turnip and an apathetic face makes you chuckle. That’s how long it’s been since you were on the sideline, distributing water bottles and towels as you cheered on a team of exhausted boys decked in turquoise and white. That’s how long it’s been since you’ve seen him.

At the thought of him, all warmth you felt from the fond memories vanishes and you grimace. Maybe I should just turn around and leave...Your rambling thoughts are cut off by a gruff voice.

“Y/N! What are you doing just standing outside? Come in and say hi”

Sharp green eyes look at you expectantly. Iwaizumi looks good. He’s always been muscular, but time has done him even more of a favor and he’s broader than you remember. However, what really gives you the confidence to enter the gym is the kindness and affection in his gaze and you both smile as you rush to embrace him. When you part, he playfully grabs you in a headlock and lightly musses up your hair.

“I know you’re a big shot career woman in Tokyo now, but you really couldn’t come back and visit even once since graduation?” You awkwardly chuckle. “You know I didn’t leave here on the greatest terms. I just needed some time to live and grow on my own.”

Iwaizumi nods in understanding as he releases his hold on you. “I get it, but you do know that nothing’s changed between Maki, Mattsun, me, and you, right? You’ll always be just as much of our friend as Shittykawa is.” The mention of his nickname makes you flinch and Iwaizumi pats you on the back. “He’s not here yet, so come and catch up with the rest of us old-timers.” And with that, he’s pulling you over to the bleachers where Maki and Mattsun are loudly laughing and chattering away.

The next 15 minutes are a pleasant blur as the three boys interrogate you about what you’ve been up to and how you’ve been and you do the same to the three of them. Before you know it, pleasantries turn into playful bantering which turns into raucous laughter and now you guys are an undignified mess of idiotic insults and belly clutching laughter and it feels like you’re all 3rd years in high school again as opposed to a group of adults in their late 20s. But everything comes to a screeching halt when you hear the sound of the gym door opening. You already know who’s there, but it doesn’t stop your heart from sinking as you slowly turn your head and see the handsome brunette standing in the doorway. “Yoohoo!”

Iwaizumi is instantly up and baring his fangs as Oikawa saunters closer to all of you.

“Oi, why are you so late, Shittykawa?”

“Iwa-chan, so mean! Don’t you know it’s fashionable to be a little late? I guess you wouldn’t know though since there isn’t a fashionable bone in your gorilla body.”

“That’s rich coming from the plaid short wearing dork.”

Their bickering continues as Maki, Mattsun, and you watch on. Mattsun snickers. “It’s just like old times.” Maki laughs before softly placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Today’s reunion will be okay. I promise. I’m glad you came.” You feel better when you see his reassuring smile and give a tense smile in return, but your hackles raise right back up when you turn around and see that Oikawa is now standing right in front of you three. You’re given a few more minutes to yourself when Maki and Mattsun try to bully him into buying their ramen since he made you all wait, but soon enough you feel a body sitting far too close on the bleachers next to you.

You look up and meet chocolate brown eyes intensely staring at you. “Y/n, it’s been a while.” You hate yourself for the way your stomach churns and your heart flutters. He’s still so handsome...no, he’s even more handsome now. What used to be a slightly childish face has now morphed into the chiseled face of an adult pro-athlete and there’s a depth to his stare that didn’t used to be there. “Oikawa…”

He scoffs in annoyance. “What happened to Tooru?” Rage ignites within you at those words. “You lost all rights to a first name basis when you decided to put me and our relationship on the back burner.” A flash of irritation sparks in Oikawa’s eyes and he looks like he’s about to open his mouth and retort, when all of a sudden the tension in his shoulders drop and he lets out a sigh instead. “Look, I was selfish back then. I’ll admit it. But I do want to talk privately after we all hang out tonight. We didn’t end things on a good note and I just need some closure.” He trails off and looks at the ground as you stare at him in bewilderment.

Is this really the same boy you used to date? The same boy who flirted with hoards of fangirls? The same boy who fearlessly led his team on the court? You’ve never heard him admit he was wrong about anything and you’ve definitely never seen the vulnerability that’s seeping from his sloped shoulders and downcast face. Looking at him brings back memories, both good and bad. You reminisce on the feel of his calloused hands entwined with yours, the weight of his head in your lap as you run your hand through his sweaty locks after an intense practice, and the pressure of his lips as he hungrily kisses you after an exhilarating match. But you also remember the heated arguments only stoked by both your stubbornness, you remember the nights you cried yourself to sleep, and you remember the cutting insecurity as you watched him flirt with pretty cheerleaders.

Silence settles between the two of you as you quietly mull his request in your head, but soon enough you are turning to face him. “Ok, let’s talk afterwards.” Ten years is a long time and if you’re being honest with yourself, you also want some closure. The last time you saw each other ended with both of you screaming at each other and coldly agreeing to part ways as you both stormed away. Days passed and a small part of you waited, hoping to see at least a text message or any semblance of an attempt to at least try and end things on a calmer note. But that sign never came and you were too stubborn to do it yourself. Little did you know that a certain brunette had also been stubbornly waiting, sitting on his bed with his legs curled to his chest and his chin tucked over his knees, scowling at the phone charging on his nightstand every night. You both waited and waited, but then summer ended and both of you left for your respective universities.

Oikawa’s head shoots up at the sound of your voice and he stares wide-eyed at you for a brief second before a grin stretches across his face. And then he is leaping out of the bleachers and running over to sling his arms around Maki and Mattsun, ushering you all out of the gymnasium as you make your way to your old favorite ramen shop. Iwaizumi trails behind them as he falls in line with you. “Is everything okay? Shittykawa wasn’t being an asshole was he? If he was, I’ll beat him up for you.” You chuckle as you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “I can defend myself even if I’m not built like the Hulk like you are.” This elicits a flurry of lighthearted jabs and mock fighting between the two of you as you continue on your way. Maybe, just maybe, everything really was going to be okay.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa #oikawa tooru #aoba johsai

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chapstick-addict · 3 years

Text

SURVIVING THIS SUMMER (& FALL) WITH SATURN'S RETROGRADE by Abby Rose

Saturn Retrograde in Aquarius:

The power planet is naturally in this fixed air sign (astrology).

Starts May 22-23 to the 10-11th of Oct. (depending on the source)

Starts in our sky @13 deg. & 31’ and will complete it’s “return” @6 deg. & 53’

Saturn’s KEYWORDS:

Self-discipline

Authority

“Strict daddy of the zodiac” (as paraphrased by allure)

Stability

Tradition

Aquarius’ KEYWORDS:

Independent

Forward-thinker

Unpredictability

The drive to evolve

Rebellious

Tarot Cards Representing the “Return” Energy

(14) Temperance & (11) Justice holding hands as (15) The Devil and (18) The Moon dance around them. We can not be afraid of the Devil nor the dark. The Moon will light his face (& our egos) so that we can look into his eyes & say, “No. You don’t control me.” But! We can’t hate/punish the Devil (our egos). It will only make us resentful. It will only make him retaliate even more (did someone say shadow work?).

What does this retrograde mean for us?

Astrologically & plainly as possible:

Our fears, roadblocks to our better-selves/dreams/ goals will resurface hard, attack us with all their might. They’re here to disrupt but also to teach us what’s really important: healthy & honest relationships with ourselves and others. It will also make us more prepared for our dreams.

Inevitable changes are happening. Nothing to stop it. To resist is futile, dragging your feet against the future will only hinder you. You will be left behind if you try. Don’t try to take control of the situation or relationships because you will fail and do more harm. Spiritualities and values will have tremendous upheaval. Perspectives will shift, be re-evaluated.

These changes bring opportunities- chances to accept responsibility for yourself but this is also applied on a global scale. Collectively, it is time for us all to take responsibility for how we care for this planet and how we treat each other. ( I mean, that’s always been the theme, right? But now Saturn won’t let us run away. The time’s up.) Social issues that can not be swept under the rug no longer. Chance to take action in fighting for 👏 human 👏 rights 👏.

It’s also time to set up boundaries so you can honor yourself. In order to do that, you have to communicate openly with yourself and with loved ones. Saturn will help you with that because all that is hidden will come to view. Hence your fears and lessons repeating in full swing.

Everything is coming back to full circle. Actions & words have a more powerful and heavier effect. They always did but now we have to grow more conscious of how our own actions/words have so much might. Our “karma” is being tallied, Saturn is our judge. People will also resurface from the past, mostly those who you’ll regret seeing or those who regret seeing you. This is probably the root of jealousy and you should make peace with this either way. Or the green bugger will try to eat you alive. If you are not the one bitten with envy, humbly be happy and recognize/accept all of your prosperity (‘cuz you deserve it, hun!)

Saturn in Aquarius allows us opportunities to let go, break away from the people and habits that no longer help us. That fills us with toxicity and prevents us from actualizing our goals. Saturn in Aquarius (according to refinery29), tells us to learn these repeating lessons and apply them to our muscle memory. So we can break the chain! All this chaos happening will make us better, stronger if we pay attention and not ignore our issues and our needs. All the chaos that will unfold is not really unprecedented: it’s our words & actions adding up.

Since the planet is so far away, it’s movement across our sky is longer than most of the other planets. It’s effect is even more intense and will be hard to face. You may feel sluggish and extremely anxious than usual. Saturn does remind you to care of yourself and rest when needed. When you do have those anxiety attacks, it’s Saturn (once again) revealing what you try to hide for so long. It’s being focused on so you can make those changes! It will be a true test of will, this retrograde, of relationships, the world, & yourself. You must recognize when it is time to fight and when to surrender (it does not mean you are weak). Don’t let your ego tell you what to do. It is only one part of you & it's too comfortable in the material world. Saturn is here to shake up our comfortability & make our egos grow-up. This is an opportunity for you to reflect on your journey as a spiritual being so far & make beautiful transformations!

*** A good reminder to ground yourself constantly and stay connected to your body.

*** Don't try to pull off any sketchy behavior (ex: lying, cheating, stealing) because you'll be, most likely, caught.

Sources:

https://www.astrology.com/article/saturn-retrograde-2021/

https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2021/05/10485815/saturn-retrograde-may-2021-meaning-effects

https://www.allure.com/story/saturn-retrograde-guide#:~:text=Saturn%20is%20testing%20you.&text=According%20to%20AstrologyKing%2C%20during%20this,your%20body%20during%20this%20time

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zo2paintedlady · 3 years

Text

LGBTQ+ Novels/Memoirs

Here is the book list from my LIS 618 class. The links will bring you to their Goodreads pages.

The 57 Bus by Dashka Slater (2017) *based on a true story* "One teenager in a skirt. One teenager with a lighter. One moment that changes both of their lives forever. If it weren't for the 57 bus, Sasha and Richard never would have met. Both were high school students from Oakland, California, one of the most diverse cities in the country, but they inhabited different worlds. Sasha, a white teen, lived in the middle-class foothills and attended a small private school. Richard, a black teen, lived in the crime-plagued flatlands and attended a large public one. Each day, their paths overlapped for a mere eight minutes. But one afternoon on the bus ride home from school, a single reckless act left Sasha severely burned, and Richard charged with two hate crimes and facing life imprisonment. The case garnered international attention, thrusting both teenagers into the spotlight."

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Saenz (2012) "Aristotle is an angry teen with a brother in prison. Dante is a know-it-all who has an unusual way of looking at the world. When the two meet at the swimming pool, they seem to have nothing in common. But as the loners start spending time together, they discover that they share a special friendship--the kind that changes lives and lasts a lifetime. And it is through this friendship that Ari and Dante will learn the most important truths about themselves and the kind of people they want to be."

The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson (2016) "Two boys. Two secrets. David Piper has always been an outsider. His parents think he’s gay. The school bully thinks he’s a freak. Only his two best friends know the real truth – David wants to be a girl. On the first day at his new school Leo Denton has one goal – to be invisible. Attracting the attention of the most beautiful girl in year eleven is definitely not part of that plan. When Leo stands up for David in a fight, an unlikely friendship forms. But things are about to get messy. Because at Eden Park School secrets have a funny habit of not staying secret for long…"

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender (2020) "Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle...."

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe (2019) "In 2014, Maia Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, thought that a comic of reading statistics would be the last autobiographical comic e would ever write. At the time, it was the only thing e felt comfortable with strangers knowing about em. Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma of pap smears. Started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity--what it means and how to think about it--for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere."

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver (2019) "When Ben De Backer comes out to their parents as nonbinary, they're thrown out of their house and forced to move in with their estranged older sister, Hannah, and her husband, Thomas, whom Ben has never even met. Struggling with an anxiety disorder compounded by their parents' rejection, they come out only to Hannah, Thomas, and their therapist and try to keep a low profile in a new school. But Ben's attempts to survive the last half of senior year unnoticed are thwarted when Nathan Allan, a funny and charismatic student, decides to take Ben under his wing. As Ben and Nathan's friendship grows, their feelings for each other begin to change, and what started as a disastrous turn of events looks like it might just be a chance to start a happier new life."

Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert (2017) "When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (along with her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse."

The Music of What Happens by Bill Konigsberg (2019) "IMax: Chill. Sports. Video games. Gay and not a big deal, not to him, not to his mom, not to his buddies. And a secret: An encounter with an older kid that makes it hard to breathe, one that he doesn't want to think about, ever. Jordan: The opposite of chill. Poetry. His "wives" and the Chandler Mall. Never been kissed and searching for Mr. Right, who probably won't like him anyway. And a secret: A spiraling out of control mother, and the knowledge that he's the only one who can keep the family from falling apart. Throw in a rickety, 1980s-era food truck called Coq Au Vinny. Add in prickly pears, cloud eggs, and a murky idea of what's considered locally sourced and organic. Place it all in Mesa, Arizona, in June, where the temp regularly hits 114. And top it off with a touch of undeniable chemistry between utter opposites."

Odd One Out by Nic Stone (2018) "Courtney "Coop" Cooper Dumped. Again. And normally I wouldn't mind. But right now, my best friend and source of solace, Jupiter Sanchez, is ignoring me to text some girl. Rae Evelyn Chin I assumed "new girl" would be synonymous with "pariah," but Jupiter and Courtney make me feel like I'm right where I belong. I also want to kiss him. And her. Which is . . . perplexing. Jupiter Charity-Sanchez The only thing worse than losing the girl you love to a boy is losing her to your boy. That means losing him, too. I have to make a move. . . . One story. Three sides. No easy answers."

Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy (2017) "'Ramona was only five years old when Hurricane Katrina changed her life forever. Since then, it’s been Ramona and her family against the world. Standing over six feet tall with unmistakable blue hair, Ramona is sure of three things: she likes girls, she’s fiercely devoted to her family, and she knows she’s destined for something bigger than the trailer she calls home in Eulogy, Mississippi. But juggling multiple jobs, her flaky mom, and her well-meaning but ineffectual dad forces her to be the adult of the family. Now, with her sister, Hattie, pregnant, responsibility weighs more heavily than ever."

Rethinking Normal by Katie Rain Hill (2014) "Have you ever worried that you'd never be able to live up to your parents' expectations? Have you ever imagined that life would be better if you were just invisible? Have you ever thought you would do anything--anything--to make the teasing stop? Katie Hill had and it nearly tore her apart. Katie never felt comfortable in her own skin. She realized very young that a serious mistake had been made; she was a girl who had been born in the body of a boy. Suffocating under her peers' bullying and the mounting pressure to be "normal," Katie tried to take her life at the age of eight years old. After several other failed attempts, she finally understood that "Katie"--the girl trapped within her--was determined to live."

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera (2017) "On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They’re going to die today. Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they’re both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There’s an app for that. It’s called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day."

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan (2013) "New York Times bestselling author David Levithan tells the based-on-true-events story of Harry and Craig, two 17-year-olds who are about to take part in a 32-hour marathon of kissing to set a new Guinness World Record—all of which is narrated by a Greek Chorus of the generation of gay men lost to AIDS. While the two increasingly dehydrated and sleep-deprived boys are locking lips, they become a focal point in the lives of other teen boys dealing with languishing long-term relationships, coming out, navigating gender identity, and falling deeper into the digital rabbit hole of gay hookup sites—all while the kissing former couple tries to figure out their own feelings for each other."

We are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson (2016) "Henry Denton has spent years being periodically abducted by aliens. Then the aliens give him an ultimatum: The world will end in 144 days, and all Henry has to do to stop it is push a big red button. Only he isn’t sure he wants to. After all, life hasn’t been great for Henry. His mom is a struggling waitress held together by a thin layer of cigarette smoke. His brother is a jobless dropout who just knocked someone up. His grandmother is slowly losing herself to Alzheimer’s. And Henry is still dealing with the grief of his boyfriend’s suicide last year. Wiping the slate clean sounds like a pretty good choice to him. But Henry is a scientist first, and facing the question thoroughly and logically, he begins to look for pros and cons: in the bully who is his perpetual one-night stand, in the best friend who betrayed him, in the brilliant and mysterious boy who walked into the wrong class. Weighing the pain and the joy that surrounds him, Henry is left with the ultimate choice: push the button and save the planet and everyone on it…or let the world—and his pain—be destroyed forever."

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson (2020) "Liz Lighty has always believed she's too black, too poor, too awkward to shine in her small, rich, prom-obsessed midwestern town. But it's okay -- Liz has a plan that will get her out of Campbell, Indiana, forever: attend the uber-elite Pennington College, play in their world-famous orchestra, and become a doctor. But when the financial aid she was counting on unexpectedly falls through, Liz's plans come crashing down . . . until she's reminded of her school's scholarship for prom king and queen. There's nothing Liz wants to do less than endure a gauntlet of social media trolls, catty competitors, and humiliating public events, but despite her devastating fear of the spotlight she's willing to do whatever it takes to get to Pennington. The only thing that makes it halfway bearable is the new girl in school, Mack. She's smart, funny, and just as much of an outsider as Liz. But Mack is also in the running for queen. Will falling for the competition keep Liz from her dreams . . . or make them come true?"

#lgbtq+ literature #lgbtq+ books for adolescents #lgbtq+#book list #lgbtq+ book list #novels/memoirs #ya books #lgbtq

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monchikyun · 3 years

Text

VII. wanna be yours

Gavin has gone over the speed limit plenty of times before, but never because he was just hurrying to meet someone he personally cared about. A first that makes him worried about his ability to stop his feelings from ruining everything before it gets too late. And it’s not like Connor is in any immediate danger, he would be a lot more panicked if that were the case since he has trouble regulating his natural responses - unfortunately so. Still, the poor android deserves better than to suffer through distress with no one around who would keep him above ground. A job he is more than willing to accept. He’d even go full-time if there was an opening, because none of his demons could ever prevent him from handing a helping hand to the person who lives inside his heart, just as long as their interactions stay platonic.

He clutches the steering wheel as he makes the final turn, wondering how on earth has he managed to fall this deep.

A part of him is really glad he did, but the rest is too busy wallowing in self-hate to take his feelings outside the confines of his polluted mind. He’s afraid they might be contaminated too, that he’d infect Connor with his foulness.

It’s still snowing with no signs of stopping any time soon, which might make their future trip rougher than he plans, but he welcomes it nonetheless. Grateful for the pleasant chill provided not only by the snowflakes that land in his hair and on his leather jacket as he exits the car.

Because he knows something warm is waiting for him inside.

Connor lives in a comparably small apartment tucked behind walls of a building resembling a cardboard box dotted with square holes more than anything. Not the kind of place he would associate with the android were they a little less familiar with each other. It was the only available location that would tolerate his beast of a roommate while being relatively close to work, Connor told him the first time he visited him. Come to think about it, he has only been here just two or three times. Not nearly enough, considering he’s supposed to be his biggest friend, (as far as he knows.) Though it’s difficult to imagine the android having a separate social life outside of work, bearing in mind how isolated he has become since the awful day in March. It took so much effort just to cut through his defences with harsh words that were meant to remind him that at least some aspects of his life are not going anywhere. A genius plan that got turned on its head as time went on, putting him right here, about to press Connor’s doorbell.

One wordless buzz and he’s already rushing up the stairs, ready to get rid of the aggravating anticipation that is making him sweat in the coldest day of the month.

Connor opens his front-door right as he’s mentally preparing himself to knock, beckoning him inside with a tear-stained face instead of greeting.

After he’s sure they’re in complete privacy, he checks Connor over for any physical damage before he can focus on the emotional one, just in case.

“You ok?” he asks like the stupid idiot he is and makes three long steps towards him. An automatic reaction that requires no additional thought.

Connor answers by slumping against his chest, once again making good use out of his shoulder. Luckily, Gavin is strong enough to stabilize their bodies before they tumble to the ground. While he tries to calm his shocked heart down, two warm arms envelop his back, fingers grasping his jacket like it’s the one thing keeping him from crumbling to pieces. At this point, Gavin has lost all hopes of holding himself back, because he finally completes the embrace while painting comforting circles onto the android’s own back. The quiet whir of Connor’s inner machinery is resonating through his body, easing his piled-up anxiety.

He feels the need to say some reassuring phrase just so he can claim he tried his best to fully soothe Connor’s pain, but even breathing is an exceptional achievement for the detective in this hazy moment. So he just closes his eyes and lets himself lose inside his damaged friend’s warmth.

The smell of fresh laundry clinging onto the android lulls him to some transient sense of tranquillity, and he almost lets his hand wander toward the inhumanly soft hair when he realises he is enjoying this too much and gets thrown back into the grim reality in which Connor needs him because he’s sad and lonely and doesn’t know how to handle psychological pain, not for any other reasons.

Then he gets impolitely reminded that the android owns a dog half his size by a damp snout getting too acquainted with his behind. It at least elicits a small chuckle out of Connor and the next second he’s left with an irrational void strangling his insides, begging him to get the pretty heat-source back into his arms.

“Sorry about that.”

He really doesn’t want to see the sad smile again, but he’ll take it over those anguished tears any day.

“It’s still weird. Don’t know if I’m ever gonna get used to it.”

He reaches for Connor’s bare temple, being very careful not to accidentally brush his fingers against it. He can’t afford any more mistakes tonight.

“You don’t like it?”

They are sitting side by side on a surprisingly comfortable sofa, trying their best not to breach the awkward status quo that hangs between them. Small-talk isn’t his favourite thing in the world, but if it’s with Connor, he might even grow to like it. He’s learned much superfluous information about Sumo and all his weird quirks, which he’s exchanged for stories about his late feline friend who had left him a few days before Connor first appeared in the office.

“I do.. it’s just… uncanny.”

“As in you could forget that I’m not a real human being?”

“No-“

“It’s fine.” He turns his head so he can look directly into Gavin’s soul. “Actually, I have a very android-like favour to ask of you.”

Yet again rendered speechless, he just nods, never losing the intense eye-contact.

“Just promise you won’t freak out.”

“I won’t.” He most certainly will.

Connor takes a deep breath, which is nerve-racking enough already.

“I’d like you to register yourself as my legal owner.”

As if on a cue, Gavin’s heart leaps in his throat, making him unable to exclaim his disbelieve.

“Just hear me out before you interpret it in the wrong way.” Like he has any other choice.

“There might come a time when my proc-… when my consciousness gets compromised, and I’ll lose control over what happens with my body… In other words, I might die one day.” Connor must see the horror projected onto his face, because he quickly adds, “I’m not saying I will, it’s just a possibility.”

Well, that has done absolutely nothing to make him feel less unnerved.

“And seeing as I have no relatives, being a machine and all that, it would be the assigned owner who decides my ultimate fate.”

Gavin conjures an expression that is meant to convey understanding, despite having no clue about how he should feel about this sudden request.

“I want it to be you. I want you to have a piece of me left if I-“

“Okay, I’ll do it. Just stop talking about your death like it’s something I’ll ever have to deal with.”

The relief emanating from the whole of Connor alone would be worth agreeing to this insanity, but the fact that the prospect of it all somehow makes him unreasonably happy pushes him over completely.

He just hopes it won’t further complicate their already complex relationship.

@a-convin-new-year

#aconvinnewyear #convin #low-temperature burn #sorry this chapter is such a train-wreck but at least it exists xD #i've been feeling not great lately to say the least #idk if I should take a break or keep going till I'm all caught up :D

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