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captain-mj · 10 months

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Vampire Part 4

The plot thickens and Ghost takes off his mask

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Soap had a hard time sleeping after getting all of his housework done. All he could think about was Alejandro’s offer and the way the two men looked intertwined. He thought of what it might be like to be between them. Threesomes had never been high on his fantasy list, usually it was bumped down by the numerous fantasies about vampires. Being bitten, biting, being picked up, being fucked in front of a mirror. Blasphemy and heresy in equal measures.

But a threesome just climbed higher on his list. His little crush on Ghost also just got a lot worse. He had never seen Ghost’s mouth not soaked in blood before. His lips were so red. His fangs poked into his bottom lip and he was so pale. More than that though, his throat had recent bite marks. Meaning Alejandro or someone else bit him often.

Soap’s heart fluttered in his chest and he ended up sitting up, needing to do something with his hands. He grabbed one of his sketchbooks and started to draw Ghost again. This time, he managed to get more of his face. Connecting it with the eyes he knew so well, he tried to piece him together.

He put music in and made sure his alarm was set. He tried his best to sleep most days but sometimes his circadian rhythm just wouldn’t let him. Between that and the adrenaline from earlier, he knew it was likely a losing battle.

Soap drew those fangs dripping in blood, his to be specific but you couldn’t tell from the sketch, and then tried to figure out what Ghost’s nose looked like.

Turns out even adrenaline wears off because he woke up to his alarm while drooling all over the sketch. He sat up slowly and his neck cracked.

“Fucking hell.” Soap stretched and wandered up around the house. He checked that there was a party nearby that the vampires could snatch people from before going up to his Ghost. In the morning, he’d go to the pack house to meet up with Farah, but for now, he’d hang out with Ghost. Like every night.

Soap smiled. When he became a familiar, he didn’t realize he would be a paid friend.

The door was locked.

The door was never locked.

“Ghost?”

“Go away.” Ghost sounded strained, like he was in pain.

Soap panicked. “Sir, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Ghost didn’t respond.

“Sir, please.”

“Johnny.” Ghost said coldly and sternly. “I am fine. Just… come back later, please.”

Soap sighed. “Okay…” This was the second night this week that Ghost didn’t spend with him. It was selfish of him. But Soap was getting worried that Ghost had gotten… bored with him. He was immortal but he had long learned that didn’t mean much. They grew tired and bored of things quickly if they weren’t just right to catch their fancy.

In the room, Ghost felt like he was dying. His body ached all over. His ears kept ringing. His mouth had been stuffed full of cotton. Ghost hadn’t needed to breath in so long but he needed to right now.

The ski mask Soap had given him was ripped to shreds on the floor as Ghost gulped for air, but it just… wouldn’t go into his lungs. Nothing he did gave him relief from the suffocating feeling.

Something seared in his chest and there was a sharp pain growing.

Bloody tears ran down his face until his vision was red.

It didn’t stop until midnight and Ghost reluctantly knew when it was. His birthday. Technically, the day he turned but he didn’t know what his actual birthday was anymore. These days were always awful but never this bad. Usually there was just an uncomfortable feeling so he had no clue why his body decided to remind him what pain was.

He slowly ran his hands through his hair, feeling… something.

No.

NO.

His denial could only do so much though. His ears were pointed. And from the way it felt, rather long. Even if his mask wasn’t destroyed, there was no way it would cover them. Ghost looked at his nails, noticing they were longer and sharper, as well as a nice obsidian color. He’d be glad he no longer had to paint his nails if not for the growing hate in his soul.

Sometimes, when he was selfish or lonely or sad, he’d pretend he was human. Just… for a bit. It was easy if he didn’t look in mirrors or run his tongue over his teeth.

But the hands in front of him were not human. The way the hair tickled the tips of his ears was not human. Even his fangs fit differently in his mouth.

Ghost scratched at the flesh on his wrists, watching the darkened blood cover his nails. He felt sick. He’d need to eat soon. Soap had gotten him used to nightly feedings but… he couldn’t stomach going outside.

Rudy, the fucking psychic Ghost swore, knocked. “Simon, are you pouting about your lover again?”

Ghost tensed. “Don’t come in.” Mist was already pouring through the door as Rudy appeared in front of him. His face fell.

“Simon. It’s nice to see you again.”

Ghost looked away. “I can’t let Soap see me like this. Please don’t let him see me like this.”

Rudy sighed and knelt in front of him. “He’s into vampires you know. I don’t think he’d care if you look a little less human.”

“I don’t want to be less human. I feel like I’m pretty inhuman as it is.” Ghost let Rudy take his wrists. “New nails.”

Rudy hissed and shook his head. “You’re not healing thanks to the little transformation you decided to have. Used everything you got.”

Ghost didn’t like the implication that it was on purpose but he let it slide. “I’m not going out there. I don’t have my mask. And Soa-”

Rudy covered Ghost’s mouth to quiet him. “I know. I get it. Look, I just came back okay? You can have a nibble off me and then we’ll figure it out.”

Ghost relaxed and mumbled.

“What was that?” He mumbled again.

“Simon.”

“I said thank you… Also stop calling you that.”

“Would you prefer batling?”

“Nevermind.” Ghost pulled Rudy in his lap easily and nosed at his throat. He took a deep breath. All vampires smelled a little too sweet and Rudy was no exception, but he could also smell fresh running blood under his skin. He sank his teeth into Rudy, feeling him tangle his fingers in his hair. His eyes closed as he drank, holding his body even closer.

A simple tap on his shoulder and he pulled away, swallowing. Rudy leaned in and kissed him before licking the blood off his lips. “Not as good the second time around.”

Ghost nodded and kissed him back, feeling slightly less terrible. “How can I hide this?”

“You could just… not hide it? There’s no reason too.”

Ghost didn’t understand what Rudy meant. He was covered in scarring. He looked like the dead.

“You’re handsome.” Rudy smiled. “Even if you look a little older now.”

Ghost cupped Rudy’s face, examining him. He was perfect. Everything a vampire should be. A perfect predator.

Ghost was that when his mask was on. When no one could see.

Rudy pulled away and lightly kissed his cheek. “Do you need anything, handsome?”

Ghost laughed softly and smiled, his new fangs biting into his lip a little. “I’m fine.”

Rudy paused and softened a little. “You have a nice smile. You really should let people see it more. I know Soap would love it.” He teased but it was good natured. Gentle. Like he knew just how fragile Ghost was in this moment. His hand ran through Ghost’s hair. It was long and went to his shoulders, a nice soft ginger.

“Thinking of bleaching it.”

“Why?”

“It’s going to have to be seen more. I don’t know. Just think it might be smart.”

Rudy patted his head. “I’m liking the implications. Think you’d make a cute blond.”

Ghost was glad he was not well fed enough to blush. Rudy would tease him “Just… give me a little time.”

“Not too much though, you understand?” Rudy glared. “I don’t want you to get lost in your own head again. Does no good for anyone.” He did leave him alone though.

Interviewer: So why did you come back?

Price: Well, I know Simon’s birthday of course! This is the year when he goes through some changes. You’d think this stuff is gradual since we live forever but our bodies change fast, just spread out.

Interviewer: Interesting. Like phases?

Price: Precisely. First year, a vampire is a fledgling. They require a lot of care in those states. Especially if they were like him and unhappy about the change. You have to keep them fed, keep them from going into the sun, teach them what they need to survive. Then, when you reach a century, some vampires get gifts. Turn into a cat, turn invisible, stuff like that. Extra things that don’t always come with the package. And today. His 800th birthday. When your ears come in. He’ll finally be a grown up.

Interviewer: Did you warn him?

Price: I was going to but it seems I was a tad late. Didn’t want to interrupt him.

Interviewer: Right… Well, what was Ghost like as a fledgeling?

Price: This interview is over.

Soap was on the other side of the house, stressing about this decision. He finally decided yes, he did want to take Alejandro’s deal. So he found him.

Alejandro was lounging on the couch, clearly waiting for something. Soap was pretty sure it was Rudy.

“Alejandro, sir.”

“Yes?” He sounded mildly irritated to be interrupted in his lounging but he sat up anyway.

Soap sat next to him. “I… Your deal.”

Alejandro looked intrigued. “Yeah. The deal. You keep quiet and if you want, I show you what Ghost kisses like.”

“I want to know.” Soap said softly. Despite everything else he had done, sleep with Rudy, get felt up by Alejandro, watch Alejandro and Ghost do… things, for some reason, this made him nervous. It was just kissing.

Alejandro touched his face carefully and had him face him. He held him so tight Soap could barely move. Soap parted his lips to speak and Alejandro leaned in, kissing him softly. His eyes stayed open and so did Soap’s. It felt too intimate. Too much. Soap quickly closed his eyes. The kiss was… gentle. Not really what Soap had been expecting. He couldn’t lean into it thanks to the hands stopping him.

Alejandro pulled away too soon. “I’m rooting for you, little buddy. I think you two could be good for each other.” He smiled.

Soap was out of breath and flustered. “Thank you…”

Alejandro shook his head. “You’re cute. It’s endearing.” He stood up. “Rudy and Ghost seem to be busy. I’m bored.”

Soap hummed. “I had a party invite? It was so you guys could grab something but you could go there?”

Alejandro nodded. “Thanks Soap. Bat.” He turned into a bat and flitted off before Soap could respond.

Soap checked the time and since it was only a little bit after midnight but no one needed him, he caught up on the sleep he missed. It felt weird, but he decided that was better than trying to find out what Ghost and Rudy were doing together.

Gaz woke him up at 5:30 sharp. “You still going to the pack house?”

“Your boyfriend tell you?”

“Yes. I’m going to tell them I had you run errands for me so they don’t want to know where you’ve gone.”

Soap stretched and caught Gaz up on what little he knew about Ghost refusing to let him in or leave his room. Gaz looked a bit concerned. “I’ll talk to him. He has a soft spot for me.”

Soap knew that to be true. He had seen Ghost pick Gaz’s sides in house arguments he wasn’t even involved in and terrorize half of Gaz’s boyfriends. They acted more like siblings than roommates half the time. Made sense Gaz had Price as his adopted Dad. “Thanks, Gaz. I just… worry, ya know?”

Gaz was clearly trying not to make a face. “Sorry, your worry is just really sour and bitter. Trying not to breath too much.”

Soap laughed and got up. “Let me figure out what these werewolves want, yeah?” He fist bumped him and followed the directions to their house.

It was nice. A little smaller but with an actual car and a giant backyard. Three dogs were running about in it.

Soap knocked and all three dogs stood up.

Oh. Not dogs. Definitely not dogs.

They walked on their hindlegs over to him and he tried to not let the intense feeling of uncanny valley and nausea distract him.

Now that they were closer he could see their size and could pick out Alex. Alex waited until his front paws were on the fence to shift back. It meant Soap wouldn’t see him naked. Well… His lower half at least.

“Hey there!” Alex smiled. “Glad you could come.”

The other two werewolves grabbed blankets to wrap around themselves before joining. One was an older lady with blond hair and the other was Farah.

Farah rushed forward, careful to keep the blanket around here. “You’re early!” She smiled. “So here’s the deal. I need your help rescuing someone from a vampire. Once it’s sunrise, we’re going to sneak in and steal her.”

“And you need me why?”

“In case the vampire shows up of course! You’re The Ghost’s familiar. None of them are going to touch you.”

Soap hummed. He supposed there was a sliver of truth to that. But anyone who knew Ghost well enough, knew that Soap was not something he’d kill for. He liked the vote of confidence though. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

Farah smiled. “Thank you so much. This really means a lot to me.” She went inside, presumably to get dressed. The other lady had switched to a robe while he was distracted.

“My name is Kate, but most people call me Laswell. It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and smiled. “Farah has been really worried about her girlfriend.”

Alex leaned in. “Just friend. Hasn’t asked her out yet.”

Laswell frowned. “Seriously?? Still? Jesus.”

Soap blinked at the word, pavloved into expecting a hiss or sizzling sound from one of his companions. There was nothing.

He missed his vampires all of sudden.

God, maybe he did need to get out more.

Farah came out and started to lead the way, ironically towards his house meaning they could’ve met up at his house and saved Soap walking at 6 in the morning but whatever. The other werewolves didn’t come with.

“So. This friend.”

“Her name is Malika. She’s been being controlled for who knows how long!”

Soap noticed she wore a choker around her neck. It looked odd with the rest of her outfit. It was plain, not made to draw attention but then she had black… lace? Satin? He didn’t know fabric. But it covered most of her skin.

“I have scarring.”

Soap quickly looked forward. “Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s cool. Better than when a vampire asked if I liked being collared. Or you just asking. But yeah, I have scarring.”

“What from?”

“I just said I didn’t like being asked.” Farah huffed, but there was a lot more bark than bite to the words. “I didn’t always have a pack and people are cruel.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You got anything like that?”

Soap sighed. “Growing up Scottish in Britain was certainly not ideal. Neither was being gay. Can’t say I have any scars from it. Least not physically.” He grinned at her.

“Must have a ton of mental ones if you want to be a bat.”

“Hey, they’re cool. Live forever. Turn into a bat and fly.”

“Watch everyone you love die. Kill people nightly.”

Soap hummed. “Only bad people.”

“You think every vampire follows that?”

“Mine do.” When Soap was the one in control, but he didn’t let that slip. That night at the bar was different.

Farah didn’t seem to buy it. “Right. Well, we’re here.”

The house was disheveled and held together by tape. The windows were boarded up and Soap didn’t see how anyone, let alone a vampire lived there. They tended to be high maintenance with high standards.

“You sure?”

“Yep! Malika is in there and I have to save her and you’re going to help me.”

Soap sighed. “Yeah, alright.” He grabbed one of the wooden stakes that marked the fence and handed it to Farah before grabbing his own. He checked the sun to see it was well over the horizon. “Alright, they should be sleeping. If Malika is injured or anything, do you have medical supplies at your house?”

“Basic stuff for when we shift.”

“Okay, good. My house is closer but we’ll only go there if there’s an emergency okay? My vampires may also be asleep but its better if we can just bring her straight to your house.”

Farah nodded. “Agreed.”

They both snuck into the home through the front door. It was weird, not needing an invitation. Or having to invite them in behind him.

All these years had started to fuck with his brain and Soap was just now putting together how much it was. When he got irritated, his first instinct was to hiss. When he smiled, he rarely showed off all of his teeth anymore, as if he himself had a pair of fangs to hide.

It was occurring to him now that if for any reason Ghost changed his mind and refused to turn him, Soap would still be very different. Not only because a good chunk of his life would have been waisted on a pipe dream, but such deeply ingrained habits would haunt him.

How could he live as a human when open windows give him anxiety because what if sunlight comes in? When he knew what the wind through his hair from over a 100 feet in the air felt like?

Soap wandered further into the house. It was incredibly dark which not a good sign. The vampire may be a light sleeper.

Farah sniffed the air and started to lead again. She stayed quiet and moved slowly so Soap could keep up even in the pitch black areas. Soap felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he started to reach for Farah. But Farah gasped and rushed forward just as his hand touched her shirt.

“Malika.”

The lady was pretty, but that wasn’t the focus. The focus was the wound on her throat. Several bite marks, none of which were healed. Barely any blood dribbled out and she was so pale.

Farah scooped her up gently.

“My place.” Soap whispered. “Trust me, i-”

Something grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and yanked him off the ground. He felt weightless right before he smashed into the floor. The wooden stake slid towards Farah but she had her hands full with Malika.

“Just go.” Soap yelled before managing to get up and start running in the opposite direction. He made it down the hall before he felt it grab his feet and start to drag him further down.

It was big and clearly old. Very, very old. Soap wondered how many children it had. How many of those children had children. Poor thing, living like this. A vampire this old should have help.

Soap kicked it in its nose though because his survival comes first. He scrambled further away and it gave chase.

“Ghost! I’m Ghost’s familiar!”

It didn’t even understand him. It just kept coming.

Soap couldn’t find the exit. Every room looked the same. Luckily there was nothing else there.

He saw a loose board covering a window and yanked. The sunlight would keep it at bay long enough for him to get it open and get out.

“Ha. Bitch.” Soap grinned right before it lunged straight at him.

Straight into the light.

He watched it set alight. Watched it burn alive.

He didn’t want it to die.

Soap quickly tried to push it out of the light but it was too late. It hit the floor and shattered like porcelain. He stood there, frozen for a while.

“Oh no. Oh no no no.”

Soap reached into the dust, hoping to find something. Anything. A way to know its name.

He’d have to ask Malika. Hopefully the poor thing had enough intellect to tell her.

Soap wanted to cry. It had been an accident. He swore it was just an accident.

He started to head home quickly, wanting to leave what he had done behind. Maybe Ghost would be up. Maybe he could just ask him to sit with him while he buried his head in the blankets and pretended this never ever happened.

Soap closed the door behind him.

“Will you just shut up and let me help?” Alejandro hissed behind him.

Farah growled. “I’m not letting you feed off her.”

Rodolfo sighed and it was clear this was an ongoing argument. Soap wondered once again how long he had been out there. “Our saliva has healing abilities. She’ll bleed out at this rate.”

“It’s true.” Soap backed them up.

“Oh. Thought you were dead.” Alejandro said it so flippantly. Like it really didn’t matter.

Soap wanted to cry again and he blamed it on the already emotional day he was having.

“Glad you’re not?” Alejandro added awkwardly. “But anyway, let me help the little familiar. Don’t want her dying on my watch. Her master can be mad at you, not me.”

Farah snarled but Malika was getting paler and still was dead asleep, so she relented. She gently let Alejandro take here, stepping back just a tiny bit so she could still watch. Alejandro’s tongue flicked out, licking the wound just once. The skin started to stitch back together, but Alejandro didn’t give her back.

Instead, he turned to Soap. Both he and Rodolfo did. Price was on the couch, casually sharpening a blade.

“What happened?”

Farah hit his shoulder. “I told you what happened.”

Rodolfo sighed. “And we believe you, but we mean after you left him alone. You’re clearly fine. Any vampire worth their fangs would’ve ripped you to shreds for theft.”

“Told them I was Ghost’s.” Soap lied, hiding his ash covered hands behind his back.

“Ah. Makes sense. We can’t just… Soap, you can’t just do that!”

Soap winced. “Look, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. Look at the condition she’s in.”

“It’s horrible but you can’t…”

Footsteps. Unsteady footsteps.

Soap heard Ghost’s voice as he stood on the steps.

Unmasked.

Ghost was unmasked.

He was blond.

He had bleached blond hair from the looks of it.

And freckles.

And pointed ears with little piercings.

And the soft ruby lips Soap thought about all the time.

“Don’t scold my Johnny. That’s my job.”

Price hummed. “Nice to see you again, Simon.”

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vertumnanaturalis · 11 days

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While this particular sheet isn't fully finished & public yet, I did wanna post these publicly while I was thinking about it - My headcanon calendar, approximate dates for when IWATEX takes place, and characters indivudual birthdays on both the Vertumnan Calendar and the traditional Gregorian Calendar! I get a bit rambly with this so the explaination behind my reasonings for things is below the cut:

The Vertumnan calendar is simple: 12 months of 30 days between the four normal seasons (Quiet, Pollen, Dust, and Wet), followed by a slightly shorter 28 day month for the already uniquely short Glow season, for a total of 388 days on an average year. Leap years with a single extra day would still occur just much less often than on Earth, only needed once every 17 years (aka 16 average years followed by 1 leap year), with that final extra day being added onto the end of Glow. This also matches with the years on Earth "laping" the years on Vertumna every 16/17 years; A character's 16th birthday on Vertumna would've been their 17th on Earth, their 32nd Vertumnan birthday would've been their 34th Earthern one, ect ect.

This also goes by several key things that aren't against canon information but contridictory to what was in early forms of the design document; the first is that days on Vertumna are nearly identical in length to days on Earth, still following a day divided into 24 hours of 60 minutes with each minute being composed of 60 seconds; the second is that weeks are assembled into batches of 7 days and (currently) follow the modern naming scheme for Sunday through Saturday.

The reason for keeping the day such a near identical length is that in practice it is actually incredibly hard to permanantly readjust the average humans sleep cycle to something longer (or shorter!) than their natural circadian rhythm. Even just an hour longer would have a cumulative effect on people's sleep cycles, getting more and more tired an hour "earlier" than the day before. This only stop becoming a problem if the days were almost perfectly twice as long as one on Earth, but having days that long - especially on a planet with two suns - would likely cook the planet to deadly temperatures during the day, while leaving the far side to drop insanely low each night. And yeah, sure, this one could be waved away by having each of the characters genetically modified to have a circadian rhythem that matches the length of their new day, but that requires both reader/writer and all characters to start adapting to a whole new lingustic system for describing units of time, which is also my entire reasoning for keeping the modern week setup. In theory, building up a whole new system of hours and names for week days is a lot of fun! And it can be, I've done it before, I'm halfway doing it again!

Which is how I learned that actually using said system casually and naturally is a WHOLE different beast, and not one I particularly want to explore in this fandom worldbuilding exercise. I think that in-universe the days of the week would be renamed over time, the same way that I think each given month would eventually have a more unique (and easier to use/identify) name than "Early Pollen" or "Mid Wet". Another headcanon of mine is that the founders actually did attempt to rename them before launch Onesday Twosday Threesday ect ect... But that between the adults deeply ingrained existing habit of calling things by their current names & the younger Earthborn colonists + spaceborn kids having secondhand exposure to the concept through media brought from Earth, it never actually caught on (except for Twosday taking over Tuesday, despite it being the third day of the week).

On another point entirely; The Gregorian calendar dates seen here are all founded on the age 11/year 2 Valentines day event. I ended up settling on that day being February 14th, 2204. Theres a few reasons for picking that year in particular; when I first started toying with the idea, it would've put their landing date during 2203, and I thought that it was a nice pun on the then-current-year 2023 (and, now having hammered it out further, having the landing year be 2202 is a nice nod to the game being released in 2022); One of the early humanties class events has a reference to space travel being "a passtime of billionaires in a previous century", and the standard english usage where I'm from would have this imply that more than a century had passed since that point, but it doesn't automatically mean it that either (think about using that phrasing to talk about something today; if you were talking about things that happend between 1900 and 1999, would you say that they happened in the previous century or a previous century?); the third reason is that its a shout out to one of my other favorite games, Stellaris (a space exploration/empire management sim), which always has the starting year of 2200.

Again, a lot of this is conjecture & opinions, just headcanoning pure and simple, but I've put a lot of thought into this over the past year. I'll eventually have a public copy of a calendar covering all 10 years of the canon game & update the npc sheet to have their local and Earth birthdays (as yes, I have gone and given them all specific birthdates, though I haven't finished calculating the Gregorian dates for the unimportant characters yet), but I'm in the middle of a frustrating medication adjustment & dealing with other personal issues that make it fall lower on my priority list rn.

If you have any questions or thoughts on any of this I absolutely wanna hear them, and as always all of this stuff is free for people to use-as-is or remix or takes part of to incorperate into their own headcanon system freely, and if you ever make anything based on or inspired by or referencing any of this stuff I very much would like to see it.

#i was a teenage exocolonist #iwatex #my docs #rambling #not exactly finished docs but its close enough while still being rambling #also I should get around to making a pinned post because its too easy to lose track of my indivudual posts linking each sheet #but I have never once made one of those and have 0 idea what to put there #oh well. I'll get to it eventually

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years

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chamomile, chapter fifteen

A/N: the gif in the moodboard is by @anqmorphic

summary: thanks for the key by the way

warnings: kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex (condom, they learned from their slutty mistakes), dirty talk, praise, slight overstimulation, crying during sex

word count: 2051

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

previous chapter - series masterlist

Snapping your fingers out from the soft cotton of your underwear, you reached over to pick up the piercingly ringing phone.

“Yeah?” you answered groggily.

“Hey,” you heard Spencer say, “can I come up?”

“Spencer, I gave you a key last week so that you could just come curl into bed with me without waking me up.”

“Oh shoot, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to-“

“No, I wasn’t asleep this time,” glancing over at the small round clock on your bedside table, you then muttered under your breath, “even though I should have been hours ago.”

“Okay, well, I’ll be there in two flights of stairs,” he ended the call, and you put down the phone.

This had been your usual routine for a few weeks now. Whenever he had a restless night, whenever the loss of Emily haunted him, he would end up at your door. He’d said that even after all the other things he did to help make things better, he still couldn’t sleep when he finally came home unless you were there. He’d call and wake you with a tone clearly prepared for rejection and you’d just get up and let him in. You didn’t mind it, you actually quite liked it. No, you loved having him in your bed, having him close, it was the fact that you knew the reason why his brain could only come to a rest when you were near, what he was struggling with when he would come crawling into bed with you that stung.

But tonight, you couldn’t sleep. Sure, you were exhausted, but you couldn’t fall asleep. A lot had changed in the last few weeks. The team had scattered and broken and distorted into something that didn’t feel completely like your family anymore. You couldn’t stand change. So, the trouble with sleep tonight did make a lot of sense… and you were kinda working on that problem right before he called… good thing it was dark and there was only space in the bed for him to curl in behind you, so he wouldn’t be able to see how just flushed you still were.

Hearing the front door creak open, it only took a few seconds before you felt the mattress dip and an arm wrap around your waist.

“So where were you tonight?” you scooted back into his body, noticing immediately that he had taken off most of his clothes, surely because of the summer heat. So often on nights like this, he’d just forget about that part, barely even take his coat off. “The gun range?”

“Yeah, I just came from there, tried to clear my head, tried to get a sense of, I don’t know, control maybe? But before that, I was at JJ’s, then Henry woke up from a nightmare and she had to go take care of that, so I left…”

You couldn’t lie, it had been a little weird having her come back. She seemed nice enough, but it was still just a little weird. Like, now the original was back, and you feared that the rest of the team was now comparing you to her even harder than before. Nevertheless, you just closed your eyes and said, “I’m happy that your friend is back. That you have a whole village who cares about you.”

“Yeah,” he kissed your shoulder, making your whole body recall what you’d been doing just a few minutes ago. “But what about you, huh? Why are you still awake? You’re usually so strict with your circadian rhythm.”

“Um, I don’t know,” you lied, your brain still being fuzzy was hard to ignore, “guess it’s just one of those nights. But I’m happy that you’re here now. Maybe that’s just what I need,” sliding a hand up to rest on his forearm, pulling him that much closer to your body.

“Let’s hope so,” he breathed out, noticeably relaxing behind you.

Laying here with him, your mind couldn’t help but wander back. For a moment there, you thought he might distract you enough to forget, shake you back into reality, but now that he was here and you could feel him, you could feel all of him, you really couldn’t stop the fantasies from just flooding your mind.

You tried not to give it away, not to move, keep your breathing the same, but it seemed to be too tall a task to order.

Letting out a small sleepy groan right next to your ear, your prickling body instinctually rocked back into it, rolling your hips gently. Feeling him intuitively reciprocate, grinding lazily into your backside, it almost had you thinking that you’d fallen asleep, that you were just dreaming. A very nice dream indeed…

Barely noticing that you’d let go of your controlled breathing, letting it instead run wild, you felt soft, slow kisses land all across your shoulder and neck.

Now, his hand was moving as well. Just ever so slowly touching up and down your side, all the way down your exposed thigh and up again.

“Spencer,” you breathed heavy.

“Mhm?” he hummed, and you felt the vibrations of his voice shoot right down between your legs.

“Spencer,” you whimpered quietly, rubbing your thighs together without even thinking about it.

“Yeah?” he nipped lightly below your ear.

“Yeah,” you rolled your hips firmly back into his now equally aroused form.

Reaching up to turn your head slightly, “you sure?” he searched your blown pupils.

Caressing your right leg down along his, you then hooked it over him, spreading your legs in the process, “Spencer.”

Letting go of your face, he slid the hand down to your right thigh, touching it softly, inching his thumb up to play with the hem of your underwear. “This it, huh?”

Wiggling in his grasp in an effort to get his fingers to touch you where you desired them, you gasped lightly, “yes.”

Removing his palm from your inner thigh, you quickly felt his fingertips lightly ghost over your panties, up and down your covered slit, giving you just enough to make you rock your hips in search of more.

“You told me you couldn’t sleep,” he applied more pressure, circling your clit slowly through the soaked fabric, “maybe this will do the trick,” and finally dipped his fingers below the waistband.

Burying your face in the pillow, you grabbed onto it with your right hand as well, feeling like you might pass out if you didn’t hold on for support.

Cursing under his breath as he trailed his fingers through your folds, feeling just how ready you were, “fuck Y/n, what’s got you like this already? I only just got in the door. Did I interrupt something?”

Letting you grind into his palm for a few moments, you mewled in pure bliss, “maybe…”

“Maybe, huh? This,” he easily slipped his middle finger inside, “is a maybe?”

“Mhm,” you damn near bit down on the pillow.

“Well, I’m sorry that I interrupted you, baby,” he quickly added his ring finger to the party, pumping them in and out of your weeping hole, “really, truly, so sorry. However can I repay you?”

Struggling to reply, you mumbled with a smile, “maybe you could do the job I was about to make one of my toys do?”

“Oh boy,” he faked an enormous pout and joked, “you tell a girl that you love her and that’s what you become in her eyes? A sex toy?”

“If the shoe fits, right?” you teased right back, through a moan.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” he smirked, burying his finger so deep inside of you that you felt the muscles in your legs start to tremble, “If you want me and not some silicone from your bedside drawer, then use me, please. Nothing would make me happier.”

Turning your head to stifle your loud cries as you came undone. Felling his forearm pin your right thigh, he kept you spread open through all of your wiggling, letting him draw it out as long as he could. It was first when you nearly kicked him in the shin that he withdrew his pistoling fingers and let them ghost over your puffy sensitive pussy, making your whole body jerk.

Keeping his body close to yours, he breathed with you, getting you back down to earth. “Was that enough melatonin or do you want more before you try and fall asleep?”

Still feeling the tent in his boxers softly grinding into your ass, mixed with the teasing patterns of his fingers, you breathed out, “take your clothes off.”

And with that, his hand was out of your panties and ripping at the fabric adorning his body, faster than you could say Worcestershire.

Rolling around to face him, swiftly pulling something out of his pants pockets, you tugged off your thin tank top and before you could reach your underwear, you felt his quick fingers find them once again and rip them down your legs.

Wrapping a hand around his hard length, his eyes fluttered shut and he wrapped one of your legs around his body, drawing you as close as possible. The latex you felt under your fingers sent a small sting to your abdomen, but as soon as his lips found yours, your body was soon overloaded with too much good to remember the bad.

Both of you filled the kiss with longing moans, as you rubbed the head of his cock all over you, easily making him just as soaked as you were.

All it took from him was the smallest of thrusts, timed just right in your up and down motions, for him to effortlessly fill you up in one fell swoop.

“Oh my-, fuck!” you gasped, pulling back from the kiss.

“That enough for you, baby?” he snaked his arm tighter around you, holding you in place as he rocked up into you.

“Yeah-, shit, you’re perfect!”

This was amazing. This felt so amazing. He felt amazing. Fuck. Even if one day he did, you knew now that you’d let him break your heart again without a second thought.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you heard Spencer pant as he stopped his hip’s sharp movements, hindering you from reaching the edge you were already so close to. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Burying your face in his collarbone, you sniffled, “I love you, I love you.”

“Y/n,” he gently pulled your face back, “are you alright?”

“Please don’t leave me,” it blubbered out of you, “I love you so much, please don’t stop,” wiggling your hips, trying to make him start again.

“I won’t.” he vowed, “I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly picked up his movements once more, this time keeping it slow and deep. “You’ve got me, I won’t let go. I’m not going anywhere.”

Screwing your eyes shut as you felt the orgasm wash over you once more, Spencer pressed his forehead against yours and assured you over and over again, “I love you, I’m right here… I’m here… I’m-, oh fuck…”

Staying like that, still connected, for what might have been 5 minutes or, who knows, it could have been 50. You didn’t know, your whole being was just soup right now. Liquid. A puddle.

“I love you,” you whispered into his sweat glazed skin.

“I love you too, but Y/n, please answer me, are you alright? Was this too much, too fast?”

“No, no, this was perfect, you are perfect, I just-… I love you so much…”

“Are you okay?” he repeated once more, not feeling content with the loving words you were spouting at him.

“Yeah, I am, I think so… are you?”

“Am I?” he sounded surprised to hear you even ask. He wasn’t the one weeping. “Yes, Y/n. I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry I cried…”

“It’s okay,” he assured you gently, “please don’t apologise.”

“I promise I won’t next time. Next time I’ll, um,” thinking hard about what could be opposed to crying, “giggle or something.”

“Y/n,” his fingers played with your hair, “I don’t care if you’re laughing, crying, screaming or whispering. As long as you are okay, that you are enjoying yourself, then it’s okay.”

Snuggling your face deeper into his skin, “I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, Y/n. I love you too…”

#lea’s writing #chamomile #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid series #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you

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underagoldenmoon · 3 months

Text

COULD THE UNDER A GOLDEN MOON PROTAGONISTS SURVIVE CASTLE DRACULA?

(inspired by Tumblr user @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula)

HAZEL:

So first things first, we need to de-ghostify Hazel, because ghosts Do Not Have Blood. And blood is. Kind of Dracula's thing. Plus she can't die as a ghost except under certain circumstances :)

So yeah that's Happening.

So Hazel would probably accept the crucifix, but that doesn't matter so much; she doesn't carry a mirror so she wouldn't die shaving.

She knows that ghosts exist (she is one. Well, was for the purposes of this. No I'm not explaining how she comes back to life, this isn't canon.) I'm not sure that she'd know what vampires are, but from the start she's seeing clues that Dracula is Not A Normal Human Being.

She had to become a people-pleaser while she was alive to keep herself safe. So she's mainly fine on the Not Annoying A Rich Jerk front.

I'm assuming that the characters aren't aware of who Dracula is beforehand, and similar to Jonathan Harker they initially assume he's just a normal guy. So she has no reason to bring a weapon. She doesn't own one anyway (Starry is the only one who does. Unless you include Golden's whittling knife).

The second she's told not to explore, she gets suspicious. She assumes that Dracula has a Dark Secret. At this point she starts trying to imply about how she used to be a ghost because she doesn't realise it's an Evil Dark Secret she thinks it's a Cool Dark Secret (not a Sexy Dark Secret because she is a lesbian). But as time goes on, she realises that Dracula is not to be trusted.

She's had to learn to be stealthy; there are cats who hunt ghosts. So she won't necessarily get caught.

She's choosing the castle over the wolves if it comes to that. All of them are, really. They're teenagers they're too young to die /hj

If she happens to be Romantically Staring Out of the Window™ while Dracula is climbing, she does get curious. "Curiosity killed the cat" type situation - but actually, this convinces her that Dracula really is dangerous.

She might try to mislead him with a few lies about England once she realises this; she's been trustworthy up to this point, since she knows her way around well, but Dracula might be able to tell. In which case she's dead.

But if she doesn't try to be too clever and doesn't get too obvious in her attempts to drop hints that she's a ghost, Hazel would survive Castle Dracula.

GOLDEN:

Golden, too, would take the crucifix. Ze reads a lot of fantasy stories. Never ignore the strange old woman's warnings.

Let's be honest – ze is not going to put up with being forced to stay up all night. Ze needs a regular sleep schedule, and ze would rather die than have hir circadian rhythm messed around with.

Also, hir instincts are pretty good – ze's going to work out that there is something going on.

Unfortunately, this does not help hir.

Ze is not going to put up with any jerk for long, let alone a rich one.

And ze's wanted to try lock-picking for a while… and all these locked doors are so tempting…

You'd think that the fact that ze reads a lot would save hir. But no. Ze's clever, but ze has no common sense. Negative amounts, really. If ze's lucky and works out Dracula's a vampire, even that won't save hir.

Because ze died picking that lock to try to get into the room.

Sorry.

Golden would not survive Castle Dracula.

MOON:

Honestly, I think Moon is the protagonist who would last the longest if they were all to die at any point. Golden dies after being caught lock-picking, Hazel (if she dies) is too clever for her own good, and Starry… well, you'll see.

Moon would accept the crucifix out of awkwardness if nothing else. Because how do you turn it down without making it a thing? That doesn't really matter – he's not going to shave anyway, he's a cat. But still.

He trusts Dracula at first – why wouldn't he?

He works out, as time goes on, that there's something dodgy about Dracula, and since he's been raised to distrust ghosts and gods, he's going to Panic. Like when Jonathan was just. Running around the castle. He would do exactly that.

He would avoid doing anything to anger Dracula once he realised there was something weird – he's used to the idea of supernatural creatures that can destroy you if you look at them the wrong way, though he hasn't met one. Yet :)

He would probably try to help Dracula – the idea of tricking him would occur, but he'd decide against it. He knows some supernatural creatures can tell if you're lying. He's not going to risk it.

He spends a lot of time staring out of the windows, so he sees Dracula climbing the walls. At this point he is certain that there's something going on.

But don't worry – he has a plan.

A terrible one.

He tries to climb out of the Castle. And he nearly makes it.

He's bested Dracula, he's escaping, he's –

Fallen off a cliff to his death. Sorry.

Moon could not survive.

STARRY:

I think that Starry was the hardest to get an idea on. She's the newest protagonist, so she's not been floating around in my brain for… two to three years, I think? I think I started version one in 2021. Certainly during Covid lockdown.

Good grief.

Anyway, Starry takes the crucifix because she knows by now that if there are rumours about strange things, it's better to be safe than sorry. She decides pretty early on that he's a ghost, which makes her distrust him. She doesn't like ghosts.

She does everything perfectly most of the time she's there. She's learned to act; she's had to.

She does nearly break when Dracula takes her stuff. After all, how will she live without her knife?

But she manages to control herself.

She's doing well; Dracula doesn't suspect. She makes sure to follow his rules whenever there's the slightest shadow of a chance that she could be discovered. But she quietly rebels, too.

Then she decides she's had enough and tries to fistfight him.

Life hack: do not fistfight a vampire. It will not end well.

Starry would not survive.

And I can't work out how to draw this so. Uh. Sorry about that.

#under a golden moon #character: golden #character: moon #character: hazel #character: starry #my art #art #This was actually really fun and a cool way to develop the characters!

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 3 months

Text

here is a preview for my next Armand/Daniel one shot (which I will hopefully finish and post sometime tomorrow) under a read more bc it's a bit long

It’s been nearly a month since Daniel and Armand have reconciled. Regaining his memories awakened those old feelings. After the interview, Daniel tried to go back to his normal life. He didn’t last long. Once he remembered Armand, he wanted him. It’s like he’s found the missing puzzle piece that completes him.

Which yeah, that’s not exactly healthy. But Daniel is old and sick; he figures he’s got ten to fifteen years tops. Years of drug use have had their toll, and there isn’t exactly a cure for Parkinson’s. So if he wants to spend his last few years with the love of his life, who cares? They’ve already damaged each other in all the ways that matter. And yet, there’s still so much love there.

Daniel loves Armand so much it makes him crazy.

Worse, it makes him insanely horny. They haven’t fucked yet. Armand tried getting in his pants the very night they got back together. Daniel had refused him, saying at his age he couldn’t get it up anymore. He’s about seventy-five percent sure that Armand knows he’s lying. Even without peeking in his head; he’s learned to read Daniel’s expressions well enough.

And Daniel has told him not to go digging around in there without his permission. As far as he knows, Armand hasn’t. It’s not so bad, not having sex. Not like he was having much before. Everyone his age is either married or in long term relationships. Sure, there’s a few other divorcees, but none he’s really interested in. So it’s been awhile.

It’s not like he’s not getting off in other ways. Armand bites him almost every night, and that feels just as good as sex. Plus, he knows for a fact that Armand considers it more intimate. Still, Daniel worries. With Louis gone off and living the single life–not that that will last long–Armand isn’t getting it anywhere else either. He doesn’t want it to cause problems between them.

But he can’t do it. Armand remembers him from his youth, when he was willing to try anything at least once. Back then he was a lot more flexible, and he didn’t sag in the wrong places. Armand may think he wants to be with him, but the experience will prove lackluster. He can’t do the things he used to do anymore. He’ll just disappoint Armand.

The nightlight clicks on, light catching Armand’s fiery eyes and making them seem to glow. “What’s wrong, my love? Usually you’re asleep by now.”

Sleeping during the day isn’t nearly as hard as Daniel expected it to be. His circadian rhythm has always been off, he doesn’t get sleepy till around 3 in the morning. Sleeping during the day has actually done wonders for his insomnia.

Daniel rolls to his side and meets Armand’s gaze. Armand installed those fancy windows he had in Dubai to Daniel’s house here in Brooklyn. They never really talked about it; Armand spent the night the first night and then just never left. Daniel doesn’t really mind; he wants Armand here.

“Can’t shut off my brain,” Daniel says.

“Perhaps I can help,” Armand says, and reaches a hand to his neck to stroke his thumb over the bite mark he left earlier.

Heat flares in Daniel’s core and he sucks in a sharp breath. God, he wants Armand. Wants those teeth inside him at the same time as his cock. He wants Armand to fuck him stupid. Sometimes, when it was really good, or especially intense, he would get all floaty after. Like he was disconnected from his body and everything was fuzzy and loose.

Armand’s eyes darken and his hand closes around Daniel’s throat and holds him in place. Then his mouth is on Daniel’s and Daniel sinks into the kiss. Armand always kisses him a little before he bites him, and it’s always nice. There’s a sharper edge to it now then there has been. Armand’s tongue is fucking his mouth, and his lips are moving against his perfectly.

Armand shifts, putting Daniel on his back. He uses his free hand to spread Daniel’s thighs so he can slot between them. He kisses Daniel until Daniel has to break away to catch his breath. Then Armand nuzzles into his neck and breathes in his scent. His hand moves to Daniel’s hair and snatches his head back. He licks a hot stripe up Daniel’s neck and Daniel moans wantonly.

Armand kisses his throat and sighs. “My beautiful boy, let me make love to you.”

Daniel stiffens. “I can’t, I told you-”

“Daniel,” Armand cuts him off, voice stern. “Tell me the truth. Why don’t you want to be with me?”

Daniel can feel his face turn red. “I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m not a spring chicken anymore.”

Armand’s brow furrows. “You mortals have such peculiar expressions. I suppose that’s referring to your age?”

Daniel looks away, nervously twisting his hands. Armand catches them and presses a kiss to the back of each. “You can’t disappoint me, beloved. I’ve longed for you these years apart. Let me have you.”

Daniel snorts. “I’m old and out of shape. It won’t be like it was before.”

“Do you truly think that matters?”

Daniel feels his chest tighten and he has to blink to keep the tears from welling. “Are you even physically attracted to me anymore? Because eventually the nostalgia will wear off and you’ll-”

“I’ll what, Daniel?”Armand says sharply. “Do tell me.”

“You’ll get tired of me. Realize I’m not the same person anymore. And you’ll leave.” Daniel didn’t realize how much he feared it, until he said it out loud.

“I’m not the one who leaves.”

Daniel winces. He might deserve that a little. He did run off quite a bit. But Armand let him leave, let him stay gone. If he really loved him, why didn’t he just find him and bring him back?

Armand’s gaze softens and he bends down to gently kiss along Daniel’s throat. Daniel allows it, sinking down into the mattress. It feels nice; arousal coursing through his entire body. Fuck, he wants Armand.

Armand nuzzles that spot right beneath his ear that always gets him hot, before sucking on it. It feels heavenly. Armand pulls back to pepper kisses over his throat. “I love you, my beautiful boy. I’ll never tire of you. I’ll never stop wanting you.”

He has such conviction in his voice. Daniel wants to believe it, but he isn’t sure. “I’m not beautiful, and I’m not a boy anymore.”

“You’re as lovely to me as the day I set eyes on you,” Armand says, then moves his mouth near Daniel’s ear. “And you’re my boy, always.”

#fic preview #not my best work #but with the mental health in shambles i'm proud of myself for writing anything #also if y'all read it and like it i will be compelled to finish and post it #i think tumblr may have made the format a little off too

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more-thoughts-than-money · 5 months

Text

Born “gifted”; grown chronically depressed

// long, personal post. basically a tutorial on express therapy (and by express I mean 10 years of rationalising, learning psychology on myself and fictional characters + 48 hours of not sleeping)

When I was grieving I spent 48 hours sleepless

it’s not that I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been on insomnia medication for 3 years now. I just had to “have a reason” and time to actually acknowledge my emotion and thoughts which caused my body to struggle with setting a “proper” circadian rhythm

Living with a 5 person family in basically a studio flat for 13 years of my life low-key harmed my ability to think and “feel” without privy eyes

this accidentally sent my brain into survival mode where I could only “think rationally” at night

So when we moved out and I got to have a room of my own

that’s when *serious* sleep problems started

my brain would just REFUSE to shut the fuck up

first off I was used to tv noise while falling asleep

i fixed it up with some rain sounds or watching ATLA when I was feeling funky

it distracted me enough

still I wouldn’t fucking sleep.

because my brain didn’t feel like it

probably hyperactivity which I could never “treat” with sport as an asthmatic kid

also an outcast but it is what it is

unable to name the cause of my insomnia I would just head to sleep at 10pm. Two reasons for that:

a) you know what they say! Don’t trust your thoughts after 10PM

b) 8h of sleep is THE healthy amount. And it seems like my brain likes waking up early for whatever reason!

yeah also I went through a fair share of medication before they got it right

anyways whoops I’m depressed now. Very depressed and even more anxious. Day by day my brain is giving me more compulsive behaviours and thoughts! Yaaay!

so I went through a 3 years worth of antidepressants

also a lot of unintended research (thanks, tiktok.)

basically I “subconsciously” KNEW what my problem is but “consciously” my brain refused I acknowledge it because haha living in the state of constant survival mode is way more fun! right?

right?

basically it was like being a doctor and being pretty certain about the diagnosis but having to go to some other doctor to objectively either confirm or discard my diagnosis

yeah anyways I changed medication, SNRI, venlafaxine

known to help some adhd folk with severe vegetative depression for “no reason”

Yeah basically my new psychiatrist kept on upping the dose until I got “a kick in the ass” so we know it works

and then my aunt died.

wELL my workaholic and emotionally constipated child brain would NOT acknowledge it

hell you’d catch me dead before I’d admit that I felt shitty but didn’t know how to deal with that because at the same time I “saw it coming”

No one ever told me she’s sick

I just saw her hair loss (or rather a sudden haircut change and awkward silence that followed) and had some foggy memory of someone saying her sister died of cancer

Mind you I don’t fucking remember my childhood that well

hell I don’t remember it at all but it is what it is

I just “know” some things and some are more of a “hunch”

I have this information buried in my brain but I can’t recall how it got there, ykwim?

yeah basically I was suspecting she’s dying of cancer but I was trying to stay optimistic and told myself I’m “overthinking it”

and I thought the mourning was “good enough of a reason” to stay up for 48 hours, write down my “thoughts” and wail all day long (yes, everyone gave me shit for crying growing up, how did you know?)

anyways yeah I did this and suddenly I “solved” the root of ALL my anxieties and minor paranoias.

as if it was a fucking riddle. Or a fucking house MD episode.

I hope you can understand WHY I’m so livid.

I SPENT OVER 3 YEARS ON ANTIDEPRESSANTS AND MADE ONE THERAPIST CRY JUST BECAUSE MY BRAIN WENT SO FAR INTO THE SURVIVAL MODE EVERY TIME I INTERACTED WITH A HUMAN BEING. IM JUST FUCKING AUTISTIC AND TRAUMATISED NOT “ANXIOUS” AND “PARANOID”

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE

Also I’m fucking dyslexic. But hyperlexic at the same time. I mean I’m hyperlexic in my native language, and I “remember” the spellings so I went undiagnosed

but I love technology. I want to be a CS student and then I’ll see where I can go from here. I’d love to work on an online learning platform for “gifted” children

y’know so they don’t lose their childhood but at the same time can associate learning with something nice and actually enjoyable

I think a lot of “gifted kid burnout” comes from the | dopamine <—> habit making | mechanism

so if children can learn they don’t HAVE TO be good at every subject and learn their “strengths and weaknesses” early on

Hardships later on won’t be as depressing

cause hey maybe I’m not the best at english but I know a lot about maths and I like maths and maybe when I grow older I can be a mathematician!!

you see what I mean?

at least this is what I’m trying to do for myself

generational trauma and neurodivergency running in the family made me develop some shitty coping mechanisms (example - perfectionism in order to cope with my actual time blindness and the “need” for structure while hating organisation and refusing “unreasonable” authority)

I wasn’t raised catholic, not really

nor was I raised queer lol

but my brain reacted to religion the same way people who went through religious trauma did

basically I put myself through religious trauma on accident!

fun, aye?

what I mean is, I grew up religious because that’s what “felt right”

tradition and all that

and then I realised the catholics hate me for no fucking reason

and then I thought “well fuck you too!” And called myself an atheist

later it went into agnostic

and a couple of weeks back I grew OBSESSED with religion

christian one I mean

Fuck I even started reading the nsrv bible in english (!)

and then I tried to interpret it “by myself” using some historical context and googling some stuff

WHAAAAAAAT! Turns out the bible is a product of its own time and is not to be taken literally!

That’s crazy innit?

Yeah and then I realised all of my recent hyperfixations (last two years) were a silent ways of rationalising ALL my “unreasonable” anxiety and trauma caused by; you guessed it

NOT UNDERSTANDING SYMBOLISM AND SOCIAL CUES AS IT IS

IN MY NATIVE FUCKING LANGUAGE

I can learn *any* language

I just need some books, movies, music in said language

But don’t ask me about any grammar. I don’t care about grammar. And you can’t make me. Idfk what present simple is but I can shove it so far up your ass your own mother won’t recognise you. so yeah

I’m great at learning languages cause they’re a “brainless” work for me

I mean

I learn languages for fun - it’s a tool to communicate with broader audience AND find more knowledge on the internet (I Google EVERYTHING in english)

and when someone tries to make it into an actual job of mine. This is when it goes downhill.

also english being coded as “language of knowledge” is my “main” language

my native language is way more complicated and I never really had to acknowledge my emotion in polish

I mean maybe I did but I just never wanted to cause I never learned that! English in comparison is simple. It allows me to communicate simple ideas without the need to “sound smart”

this and isolation from my peers (kids are bastards) gave me an actual “language barrier”

which isn’t the case really

it was just my overthinking

I started enjoying polish music way more recently cause I can never get the lyrics

so I listen only to what sounds “cool”

in english on the other hand the most of my music taste was built around midwestern emo and folk punk

cause I listened only to songs that felt “somewhat relatable”

yeah all of that understanding makes me want to write an essay but i kind of don’t care and I’m too lazy to do that!

so yeah this is how I “cured” my compulsions, anxiety, depression, irritability and perfectionism. By having fucking adhd and being a massive nerd. because I would hyperfixate on linux, customisation, open source applications, cybersecurity, programming

turns out I’m great at maths since I KNOW HOW to solve the problems

My brain is just too quick to do it step by step so I tend to skip and get lost in my own fuckin notebook 💀

schooling just made me believe I suck at maths and i should actually kms for trying to improve at it /hj /lh

And I suck at my own language. I know a lot of “complicated” words and can deduce what certain words mean (logically) but I have issues adapting my language to my listeners. I either cuss every other word (too comfortable; thanks mom LMFAO)

Or I speak like an university professor. To my peers. And they don’t know what the fuck is going on. And I end up isolating myself because of crippling fear of being misinterpreted. And people think I don’t have a sense of humour whatsoever because I don’t “get” jokes. But I joke a lot and am very sarcastic cause that’s just how I am. God damn it

When were y’all going to tell me not everyone thinks I want to use them and be a bastard overall when I need to ask someone for help. when. were. you.

icb I had to go to paid therapy, feed myself some subliminal messaging, deprive myself of sleep for 48 hours, force myself to talk to my dad about things I don’t understand or scare me, go manic for a week on venlafaxine, my aunt had to die and I had to have a reason not to go to school for 2 days for me to actually acknowledge my emotion instead of rationalising it.

also everyone in school + my therapist thinks I’m still manic and in need of hospitalisation. How do I even begin to explain it’s not that I have superiority complex, and I just realised I’m hella smart, just in a pretty unexpected way….. because thorough my entire life I never acknowledged it for the sake of being “humble”. bitch it’s not humble it’s the lack of self worth and being someone else’s doormat.

y’all think that if I say “house md and one tumblr post cured me” they’ll let me off the radar?

no honestly I have too much to catch up on (maths, c++, reading in POLISH, and learning German for fun) to actually care about “depressing” things of this world

I mean sure it does sound unhealthy in hindsight

but thing is

this is the first time in my life where I don’t feel hopeless both about present AND the future

and I guess that’s enough for now

I have “a goal” and that’s enough

Later I might catch a job as an actual university professor. Maths or computer science. Biology or physics maybe?

it gives me an excuse to be “eccentric” lol

cause the students are here to learn not to make fun of who I am and focus on that

sure it’s a funny anecdote to mention like “dude my physics teacher is fucking nuts but at least his lectures are interesting”

and that’s all I care about

I get to express myself instead of internalising anything

and the students get to learn

yay and yay

mutual benefit!

yeah anyway fuck I have so much shit to catch up on and I’m so lazy I actually have to reorganise my room and desk so I don’t try to do my homework in bed……. (Yes I was THAT depressed and lazy)

when I do my chores in bed I keep on losing my pens and I’m one minor inconvenience away from doing something I might not particularly want to do…….

yah

thats it I guess

If this post made anyone realise something (“connect some dots”)

congrats and I’m sorry you had to find out this way LMFAO

if not

scroll ahead, not the target audience probably

#neurodiversity #gifted kid burnout #mental health #txt #long post #personal #also you’re not “evil” but possibly have some developmental trauma. Probably. Who am I to judge. Have fun with the realisation!#hate crimes md #don’t take this too seriously #Im the last person I would take actual advice from #🦐🦐

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bump1nthen1ght · 1 year

Note

it sure would be awful if a terrifying creature of the night wanted to hold hands on a little graveyard walk date at night for halloween—

Sure thing anon! Halloween may be gone temporally, but it's always alive in our HEARTS

Graveyard Date Headcanons (GN! Reader)

- Your lover and you spend most dates at night; They’re not only nocturnal but also a little….alarming looking to most people

- (You’re not sure if it's their several sets of red eyes, their unhingable jaw with teeth sharper than a knife, or the fact that they are 7’3”. Maybe it’s a combo)

- But halloween was an extra special night! Not only do you get to spend fun night with your fave person, but they also get to go out and about!!

- (Yes they get a lot of compliments on their costume, they learn to rake the complimenr and go)

- But they aren’t necessarily ready to jump right into a night of social interaction, which you had predicted; You had already packed a some snacks and a good excuse so you could head out early to your favorite place

- It’s a little chilly, but the sky is clear and beautiful, the moon shining down in you as you stroll through the graveyard. You’re covered by a large pelt of a coat, a gift from your partner that drapes over you like a blanket

- The night is surprisingly quiet; You had expected some rowdy teenagers to be performing a seance, but it’s actually quite pleasant out

- Your partner is curled up to your side while you walk, one hand in yours and the other rubbing your bicep. You can feel their natural warmth, even through your jacket

- They point out the constellations, mapping the stars with their long fingers and explaining how those stories came to be.

- You split a small handful of candy while you chat, a little gift from the party you were at

- Maybe you lay down in a patch of grass for a bit; The night has made it slightly wet so your partner shifts you onto their lap,wrapping their arms around your midsection.

- You tuck your head under their chin, their claws playing with your hair

- You both gossip about some of the rowdier guests at the party and maybe some of the interesting costumes you saw

- (“I actually think that one dude’s vampire costume was pretty good, understated but effective.” “My darling, that was an actual vampire.” “Ohhhh.”)

- They will point out the lingering spirits that you can’t see

- “This young lady is dressed is very nicely, though I wonder how they fit her hoop skirt in the casket.” “That sounds cool! What’s her name?” “Adeline, and she likes your outfit.”

- Your non-nocturnal circadian rhythm catches up to you and alongside the help of alcohol, you doze off in their arms around 3 AM.

- You’re partner hoists you up gently, walking back to your shared apartment, admiring how cute you look.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #gender neutral reader #headcanons

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starlightandetherealshadows · 8 months

Note

fun fact not anon with another hastily researched fun fact: sleep schedules suck.

this particular fun fact is spurred by the situation I’m in. I’m going from a not doing things to a doing things sleep schedule and the transition isn’t treating me kindly.

Insofar as I can tell and remember, your sleep schedule relies on your internal clock of the 24hr system, AKA

THE CIRCADIAN RYTHM

Which is Latin for something. Not to be confused with the biological clock, apparently. The biological clock is a larger thing that tracks keeps the time a hell of a lot more than the day/night cycle. Plants even use it for seasons.

These biological clocks on the cellular level also affect a hell of a lot more than eepyness. Truthfully, I’m probably the least qualified person to talk about this, and other people have summarized it better. It’s actually decently interesting stuff, though. Medical News Today has a decent article on it. It’s sourced are good, I figure. Anyways, my melatonin is kicking in now, so I’ll close it off with the traditional ask:

Though I doubt anyone’s sleep schedule is good in the apocalypse, who in the group has the worst one? How about a scale from best to worst? And if you want to get really specific, do the alien friends have any differences in sleeping?

Hello my friend!!!

I learned all about the Circadian rhythm while in my bio classes hahaha my own is pretty solid I’m not gonna lie! I’m a morning person rather than a night owl, so I like to be knocked out by 11 at the very latest (ideal is a solid 10:00)

OKAY BEST TO WORST SLEEP SCHEDULE

Best

Cecelia/Chase: like clockwork, C will fall asleep by midnight and be up at 8:00 everyday. Unless they’re preoccupied, of course, then they can stay up later or wake up later. They don’t dream all that often, but they are a very light sleeper. They desperately miss coffee, too.

Delphine: Delphine doesn’t need to sleep 8 hours, but she likes to! Her body only really needs 5 hours to function, but when all the people she’s with need more than that, she’s trained her body to get used to around 7 a night. Succubus aliens don’t dream at all.

Ayana: she’s used to long hours and late nights because of med school and residency. she’s a night owl, and functions best with about 6 hours of sleep.

Veronica/Vincent: V’s sleep patterns are erratic, but they seem to be well rested whether they get 4 hours of sleep or 10.

Xa’eks/Xa’veed; the aliens on Nion 8 need about the same amount of sleep, but their days are longer on Nion 8, so with the time difference, X would actually sleep about 12 hours a day for maximum rest rather than the 8 hours humans would get.

Zero: the night terrors, nightmares, and tendency to sleepwalk keeps him from getting a good nights rest. Sometimes he avoids sleeping at all. Longest he’s made it without sleep is 64 hours. (Almost 3 days)

Worst

Zero when it’s day 3 of being awake and he starts seeing The Hat Man ^

#ask: answered #memento mori

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blujayonthewing · 3 months

Note

I'm inserting a crisp dollar into the Thoughts About Felix machine, wondering:

What are his sleeping habits like?

What are his coping mechanisms?

He's granted three wishes. What's the fourth thing he would wish for?

How would you describe him, using only emoji?

me @ this ask

Left to his own devices he's naturally inclined to be crepuscular; in his home village it was normal for most people to sleep both in the middle of the night and the middle of the day (though a little longer at night), and for the day to start well before dawn and end well after dark. Since he's kind of a loner and drifter at the moment he can usually still get away with this kind of sleeping schedule even after having left home; people get the impression that he never sleeps, or must sleep really poorly, because he appears to be out wandering around at all hours, but really he's just splitting up his sleep. After spending so much time in human/ mixed cities he has gotten better at being able to adjust to only sleeping at night when needs be, but he gets noticeably sleepy around lunchtime if he's not getting naps in.

He's a pretty light sleeper, partly because his hearing is so sensitive; he likes to be cozy, and preferably somewhere very quiet and dark, but he can fall asleep fairly easily almost anywhere. I feel like I have a lot of OCs who routinely stay up way too late/ refuse to sleep or, like, sleepwalk, or are otherwise Bad At Sleep, but actually his sleep habits are generally pretty good, unusual circadian rhythm notwithstanding, lol.

YELLS IT'S GETTING SO LONG SORRY I AM INCAPABLE OF BREVITY SDFKJHDFKGJ

Coping mechanisms! Small scale/ acute: he fidgets a lot, chews on things. He's mostly gotten himself out of the habit of biting his nails by redirecting to other stuff (he goes through pencils a lot faster than he actually wears them out with use). A big go-to is seeking space to be alone, particularly somewhere high up; as a kid he used to climb trees a lot, and now in aboveground cities he spends a lot of time sitting on roofs.

For bigger/ more ongoing things... it depends. On the one hand, it can feel comforting to surround himself with people by spending time in places that feel crowded without being intimate, like markets or popular taverns, but it stresses him out if people can tell he's Going Through Something, so he ends up isolating a lot instead, or just hanging out with animals and avoiding people (pigeons aren't usually good enough at humanoid body language to pick up on and ask about anything short of an actual breakdown, for one thing, but on the other hand breaking down fully in front of animals still feels significantly less stressful than in front of other people, somehow). He hates talking about himself, and he really hates trying to explain his feelings, especially when he's already having a bad time, so he doesn't really get a lot of support even when he really needs it. He mostly doesn't Journal His Feelings with his sketch/ travel journal, but I think he's more inclined to do so at least a little bit when he's trying to cope with something just because he's got no other good outlet, much less someone he can actually talk to.

In terms of coping beyond the immediate 'managing the feelings' sense, he always wants to understand things as much as possible, so a big part of coping with anything is to try to learn everything about it he can. Like, not that this has happened to him but he's very much primed to be the guy whose loved one disappears/ is killed under suspicious circumstances which sets off a chain of events leading to his single-handedly unraveling some deep convoluted conspiracy-- you know? Something extremely upsetting and Deeply Weird happened to him before the campaign started, and now he's obsessed with making sense of it. Honestly, now that I'm writing this all out, I imagine his interest in studying people and body language and social nuances and motivations came at least partly from a way to cope with not understanding those things intuitively like other people seem to, and being really bad at performing social skills correctly himself 🤔

Lacing my fingers in front of my lips pensively. The wishes question is so intriguing. ...... okay. I have his three wishes. The unwished fourth wish is 'I wish for [people who left him for dead] to forget that I exist.'

the lad in emojis: 🥺🤫🐈👁👁👂🔍🍂💬❔

#ragsy #HOLLERS. THANK YOU FOR MY LIFE. REALLY GOOD QUESTIONS #the emojis aren't in any particular order they're mostly the order I found them in scrolling the emojidex lol #one problem re: coping is that I think what would help a lot of times is being HELD but he doesn't really have any close relationships #loves people. would love to be close to some one day #also we are blithely pretending that dnd rules regarding long rests don't rule out jay's silly little gnome worldbuilding #gnomes are crepuscular I decided. wotc can bite me actually #all of my gnomes have spent a lot of time out among other peoples but felix is the worst at adjusting his behavior in general #so I wanna think of what it means for him specifically to be Conspicuously Gnomish-- one thing being 'sleeps at lunchtime'#my OCs #felix

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logan-sanders-enthusiast · 10 months

Text

electing strange perfections (in any stranger i choose) - Chapter 1/?

next | masterlist | AO3

Word count: 5117

Summary:

The fae world and the human world had always been mostly separate. Fae crossed between the two realms while humans remained oblivious to their very existence, and that was how it had been for centuries. But when the lines start to bleed, and humans start catching on, who's going to step in and put an end to the conflict that follows? Human or fae, fate does tend to fall into strange hands (aka, logince fae au)

((AN: this is like 60% based on an rp i did a while back on tumblr. I definitely strayed from the original storyline a lot but the idea and the characters are like… pretty similar i think. this is also incredibly self indulgent bc im a sucker for logince. enjoy :] ))

~ * ~

Humans liked to consider themselves to be intelligent. Masters of the world they lived in. They dug up coal to power their great machines, and cut down trees to put up the scaffolding for towering buildings. They sacrificed their share of the Earth for the wonders they saw fit to create, and they turned to each other with unsatisfied smiles, as if to say: ‘Look at that. Look at the greatness we have achieved’.

They never quite finished with their powerful innovations, there was always something more. Some turned to science, and quickly became bored, many claiming that we had already mastered the Earth, there was nothing more to learn. Yes, humans quickly convinced themselves that they understood most everything, and whatever they didn’t understand, well, they at least could pinpoint its existence, could say with confidence that it was infact real. Although this mindset has led to great discoveries, it is the hinderance of the most vital secrets that the Earth holds close to her chest.

Then again, perhaps it’s not always the important people making the important discoveries. After all, sometimes fate does tend to fall into strange hands.

~ * ~

Logan awoke just like he did every other morning, the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs, the sound of his mothers poorly singing along to some ABBA song, the summery morning air drifting in from his window that he always forgot to close, his homework still strewn across his desk from his late night study session. All was normal because that day was a normal day.

He got out of bed as usual, ten minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off, as he always tended to wake up earlier than he needed to. He blamed it on his circadian rhythm, and would usually bore his mothers to death with some scientific spiel whenever the topic came up, but if asked if he would set his alarm back ten minutes to compensate for it, he refused for whatever reason.

He put on his school clothes that he had laid out the night before, black jeans, a blue button up and a black tie, similar to what he always wore, formal and neat. He heard that type of clothing would get kids bullied in some schools, but he kept his head down, was quiet and polite, and his peers were always kind to him, even if he never found himself with many friends.

He brushed his hair, cleaned his teeth, made himself seem presentable, turned off his alarm once it went off, picked up his already packed schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder, before he went downstairs, everything going the way it always did. Today would be a normal day, why wouldn’t it be?

Logan’s feet had barely left the bottom step when one of his mothers swept into the hallway from around the corner. April was her name, named after the month she was born in. She often joked about her parents lack of creativity, and her surprise that her younger brother wasn’t named January. She was a shorter woman, with deep golden tan skin and kind eyes shining from behind a pair of round framed glasses. Her hair was long, dark, and curly, and her face was adorned with deep smile lines to compliment her dimples. Logan knew his mom had always been a beautiful woman, though he didn’t need to say it, his other mother, Natalie (named after nothing in particular, her parents simply adored the name), did her best to remind her wife every morning.

April walked to up to him with a skip in her step, going on her tip toes to run a hand through his hair “Oh Logan, look at you, always so professional looking. It’s high school, not a business conference you know?” she smiled fondly as she stepped back to admire her son.

“Mama, please, I have a reputation to uphold,” Logan replied, flattening down his hair. It was insatiably curly, and he always did his best to keep in neat. Just another trait he shared with his mama. People had always pointed out how similar he and April looked, ever since he was a child. April always tried to convince him that he had Natalie’s eyes, but he knew now that he was older that made no sense. Natalie, with her pale skin and pin straight brown hair, played about as much of a part in his genetic makeup as the anonymous man from the sperm bank played in his upbringing.

Logan’s almond skin, his poor eyesight, his curly, dark hair, all were traits he shared with his mama. He figured that the anonymous donor must have been tall though, as he was almost a head taller than both of his mothers, with a bit more room for maybe one more growth spurt.

“Oh please, all of your teachers already adore you” April hummed and tugged on Logan’s tie gently “At least lose the tie, it’s going to be hot today. Come on, breakfast is ready, we might even let you have two cups of coffee this morning if you promise to not stay up so late studying tonight” she said with a grin, walking out into the kitchen.

Logan followed behind her, the sounds of a familiar song filling his ears as he stepped into the kitchen alongside his mother.

‘-my destiny in quite a similar way. The history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself…’

“Waterloo? You couldn’t have picked a better song?” Logan teased lightly, immediately going to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Natalie turned her head around from where she was sitting at the kitchen bench “Excuse you young man, Waterloo is and always has been a hit” she argued back with a light-hearted tone, her voice still a bit rough from sleep..

“No, it was a hit in 1974. The Winner Takes it All is objectively a much better song, if we’re talking ABBA” Logan pointed out. Their musical debates were common in the mornings. It was all routine, his mothers put on a song, Logan came downstairs and critiqued it over coffee, rinse and repeat.

“Sorry honey but I have to agree with Nat on this one” April chimed in, sitting next to her wife “I mean, you can’t win Eurovision with a mediocre song. Besides, The Winner Takes it All doesn’t fit the morning vibe”

Natalie nodded to what her wife said, a tiny strand of her hair falling out of the tight bun it was held in “Very true. And really if we’re going to talk better ABBA songs, I’d consider Hole in Your Soul over any other song any day”

April put a hand over her heart in a dramatic fashion “Whoa hold on a second, you’re taking Hole in Your Soul over The Visitors? Now that’s crazy...”

‘-couldn't escape if I wanted to, Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you…’

Logan smiled a little to himself as his mothers continued to playfully bicker over ABBA. He took a sip of his coffee, drinking slowly so he didn’t burn his tongue.

His mothers had known each other for years, but for all Logan knew they could have known each other forever. He had never met two people who were closer than they were. They met in their sophomore year of high school, and Natalie proposed when they were both twenty-two, back in 1999. Of course, they couldn’t actually get married until about sixteen years later, for obvious reasons. Logan was ten at the time, he still remembered the wedding, and how much his mothers had smiled all throughout the ceremony. He was sure if he dug around in his closet a bit he could find the little black suit and tie he had worn, all dusty and stiff with seven years of no wear.

Logan eventually finished his coffee and put it down on the bench, filling his cup up again, slowly and carefully so as to not spill a single drop. Natalie looked over at Logan, not mentioning the second cup as it was merely routine for all of them by now “What’s on the agenda today Lo?”

Logan hummed, taking a sip of his coffee before speaking “I have a science project to wrap up, and then I might stay late to finish up my English essay in the common area”

“Why don’t you just come home and finish it?” April asked, tilting her head to the side.

“If I come straight home you’ll spend all the time I spend on work trying to pull me away from it, and I can’t risk that sort of distraction,” Logan answered.

April scoffed “Oh please, it’s probably not due for another month, you’re far too organised”

Natalie nodded in agreement “Yeah, you certainly didn’t inherit either of your mothers’ tendencies for procrastination”

“Well inherited procrastination or not, I’ll stay late today. What time should I be home by?” Logan asked, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl next to him on the counter, intending on taking it for breakfast even though he knew the chances of being able to leave the house without first eating a proper meal were slim.

“Hmm how about you be home by… now. And ditch school. And we can do something fun as a family and have a together day” April suggested, tilting her head to the side with a crooked smile.

“As tempting as that sounds-“ Logan began in a way that sounded like he wasn’t tempted in the slightest “I have a perfect attendance to uphold, and besides, I promised Virgil that I’d meet up with him to help proof read a paper for him”

Natalie sighed heavily, her shoulders slouching in an melodramatic disappointment “Oh dearest Logan, always working, never enough time for his boring old mothers”

Logan rolled his eyes in amusement, tucking the apple away in his bag to save for his walk to school “Look, tomorrow’s Saturday, we’re all free all day so we can have a together day then; we’ll do whatever you want. How does that sound?”

“I thought you had to tutor on Saturdays?” April pointed out.

“The student cancelled, they came down with the flu, or they were out of town, I can’t really remember. Either way, I don’t have to tutor them tomorrow so I’m free” Logan explained.

Both April and Natalie smiled “Well that’s wonderful! Yes, tomorrow it is, and you better not cancel otherwise you will never live it down” April warned.

“Yes mama, I know” Logan said with a fond smile, about to turn to head out the door when Natalie picked up a brown paper bag off of the counter and tossed it to him.

“Breakfast” She said simply “Eat it or I’ll come down to the school and tell them you have a doctors appointment and-“ she gasped dramatically for effect” “-force you to skip school!”

“Yes ma” Logan said, his tone exasperated but downplayed by his smile. “Love you Lo, have a good day” “You too ma” “And me?” “Yes mama, and you” “Bye Lo, have fun at school, do not work too hard today” “Goodbye”

And with that, Logan was out the door. The walk to school wasn’t a long one, and though Logan was perfectly capable of just driving to school, he enjoyed going by foot. It was good exercise and he lived on the brink between suburb and nature, so it was nice to hear the birds and see the green of his surroundings in the mornings, it helped to wake him up.

His actual school was a lot less lively than its surroundings, but that didn’t bother Logan all that much. He enjoyed school, which some people found strange, but didn’t everyone enjoy the things that they excelled at?

He walked into first period with his arms heavy with books and his bag heavy with homework, either to be handed in early or to bring up questions about some aspect of the assignment. First period English went smoothly, he handed in his annotation homework, made good progress on analysing the text they were studying (which they weren’t due to start analysing until next week, Logan just liked to get a head start), and engaged in a friendly debate about the textual meaning behind the piece they were studying, which always brought his mood up, especially considering he always had a tendency to win said debates.

Second period algebra was just as simple for him, writing examples on the board, getting extension work halfway through the class once he had finished all the other material, making notes and areas for improvement. He studied in the library during his morning break and then went straight back in for a physics class in third period.

Everything went pretty well, until fourth period biology, where he hit a small bump in the road.

The first half of the period went well, with Logan handing in one of his projects a week early, as he usually did. Although just as he was packing up to leave, his biology teacher called him up to the front, his project folder open on his desk, “All of your work is exceptional, as always Mr Sanders, however you seem to have missed a small part of the assignment”

Logan was immensely proud of his project. They had been tasked with identifying one common plant that grew in the area, and giving a detailed description on its properties, environment, cellular makeup, evolution over its existence and the like. Logan had taken great care to include every detail, so what could he possibly have missed? “Oh, my apologies sir, I wasn’t aware. I had checked and double checked my project against the instruction guide last night and found no issue, so I am curious, what did I miss?”

Logan’s biology teacher shook his head “It’s nothing major, and I won’t mark you down for it if you don’t want to go and add that now that you’ve already submitted. I’ll admit, it’s only a small detail. In the instruction guide, at the top of the page, students were asked to include either a picture or a physical example of the plant that they had selected” his teacher said, pulling out the guide and sliding it over to Logan, pointing out the part that had instructed that, “It’s easy to miss, don’t stress about it. Now, I can see that you have chosen stinging nettle, so of course I don’t expect you to go out and pick any-“

“I’ll do it” Logan said abruptly, “My apologies sir, I didn’t know that I had missed something so simple. If it’s alright, I will unsubmit my project now and I’ll bring the completed version with me tomorrow”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-“

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t want my work to be of a substandard quality. I assure you, I will have it done properly by tomorrow. Good afternoon sir” Logan said, quick to pick up his project off of the teachers desk and whisk himself out of the classroom without another word. How on Earth could he have missed something so small? He supposed he would have to put off finishing his essay that the afternoon, opting instead to take the walk into the woods at the edge of town to collect some nettle. It was fine, the essay wasn’t due for another month anyways.

When Logan sat down in the library at lunch, he was thoroughly disturbed. He still could hardly believe that he had missed something so simple, so easy. Completing the task would have taken him five minutes, and not only had he not done it, he had completely skimmed over actually doing it, he didn’t even forget, he just didn’t process the instruction.

Logan barely noticed someone sliding into the seat next to him until they cleared their throat to get his attention.

“You good there bud?” Virgil asked, seeing Logan stare off into the distance with that look in his eyes that he only got when he was overthinking something sparking a bit of concern in the older boy. “Hm? Oh, hello Virgil, yes I am perfectly adequate” Logan replied with a small nod towards his friend.

Virgil and Logan had known each other for twelve years. Twelve long years of what started out as enduring each other’s presence, to accepting it, to enjoying it. They had met in kindergarten when they were put in the same class, and forced to sit together after an argument broke out about who owned which pencil when their stationary got mixed up during arts and craft. It was some tactic to get them to get along, and for a while it didn’t work; arguments broke out every day, and many pencils were snapped in half in the process, but by the end of the year, they had begrudgingly accepted each other as acquaintances rather than enemies, and now, years down the line, that bond had only strengthened.

Virgil and Logan wouldn’t quite consider the other the only friend they had, but they would be stupid to not consider each other best friends.

Which was why Logan’s inner turmoil was more than obvious to Virgil.

“Come on, spit it out, what happened” Virgil said, dropping his bag on the floor next to him with a thud.

“It’s nothing, no time for distractions, we need to proofread your paper” Logan said, trying to grab the essay out of Virgil’s hands, not before Virgil had lifted it up and out of Logan’s reach.

“Nuh uh, nice try. You’re not getting this until you tell me what’s wrong” Virgil said, waving the paper around above Logan’s head, making the shorter boy frown at the thought of the creases the taller would be making to the paper. Much to Logan’s dismay, Virgil had always been freakishly tall, standing at almost 6’4”, towering above Logan who stood at about 5’10”. They had been the same height for most of their earlier school years, but as soon as Virgil hit the seventh grade he shot up, and ever since then he had often used his height to his advantage, and seemed to take much enjoyment out of holding things just out of Logan’s reach.

Logan sighed in annoyance and conceded “Fine. I handed in my biology project early and my professor informed me at the end of class that I had missed an instruction so it was unfinished”

Virgil blinked “And?”

“That’s all” Logan replied simply.

“That’s all?” Virgil echoed, biting back a laugh “Lo that’s no big deal, don’t worry about it. You handed it in early too so it doesn’t matter. You can just unsubmit it and bring the completed one in when it’s ready”

“I know I know, it’s just… I never miss details like that. It was such a small thing, a physical example or a picture, that was all I was missing, and the instruction was right at the top of the page and I just… missed it” Logan said, his tone suggesting that it was some crucial thing that he had skimmed over and not just a small part of his project.

“Y’know what I think Lo? I think you’re overworking yourself” Virgil said, resting his chin in his hands, keeping his paper pinned under his elbow on the table so Logan still couldn’t get to it “You need to take a break, step away from schoolwork for a bit. You’re already like months ahead of everyone else on classwork. It couldn’t hurt to stop for just a little while, clear your head. I mean, no one in a right state of mind freaks out about missing a simple part of their project, do they?”

Logan sighed heavily, wanting to argue but figuring that it was no use, Virgil had always been the stubborn type, and in some way he was correct. “I suppose you’re right, maybe I am in over my head. I’ll try to step back a bit” Virgil smiled, pleased “Good, you need it specs”

“If you say so. Now, you wanted me to proofread your paper?” Virgil raised an eyebrow amusedly and shook his head, to which Logan huffed in annoyance “Certainly your work doesn’t count as my work, I’m simply going to proofread it-“

“Nope, you’re taking a well-deserved break and that includes all forms of work including proofreading. It’s in the fine print of our agreement, and I would recommend you read it but I’m sure that counts as some kind of proofreading so no, don’t do that” Virgil said, snickering at his own joke.

Logan just rolled his eyes “You are incorrigible”

“You’re very welcome L”

The two boys sat like that for a while, engaging in a bit of friendly back and forth. It was all familiar for them, after all it wasn’t the first time that Virgil had insisted Logan took a break. He always found some way to overwork himself, through school, personal projects, or anything else that required his attention for extend periods of time. Of course, it’s not as bad as it used to be. Virgil remembered the times when he wouldn’t see Logan at all outside of classrooms for days, or sometimes weeks on end, always too busy studying at the library or finishing the mountains of extra work he had asked for in each subject. He remembered how irritable he always was, how tired he always looked. Over time, things changed, and it was better now, but it always felt like Logan was at risk of falling back into that spiral, constantly teetering on the edge. Virgil wished that Logan could eventually find some way to just step back from reality, even just for a little while, not get so caught up in school.

By the time they were supposed to head off to their last class of the day, both of the boys were in good spirits. A lively conversation mixed with a casual debate usually did wonders to lift their moods, so they both parted ways to their classes with smiles and promises to organise plans together soon.

Logan was feeling better, that little weight on his shoulders felt smaller, everything felt more manageable now that he was no longer so worked up over something so unimportant. He walked into his ancient history class with a lighter feeling in his chest, ready to get the class done and be finished for the day. He sat down in his usual seat, pulled out his notebook and pens, and started taking notes as the class began, writing down the work and answering any questions that the teacher asked. It was all normal and completely usual once more.

Logan often had a habit of getting too into his own head about minor things, especially when it came to matters of academics, something that he took very seriously. What had started out with him doing accelerated math and advanced reading in elementary school had led to him being the top of his year, winning awards for essays he submitted to competitions, and having several, rather persistent college scouts trying to persuade him into submitting an application. Even though he was at a point in his senior year where potential colleges was something that students were beginning to think over, Logan had already planned out his course and top picks for colleges, all of which he was certain he would be accepted to, and his mind was rarely changed. He liked to have things planned out in advance after all. At the very least, he was modest about it. In fact, his mothers seemed to brag more than he did about his numerous achievements. He would always claimed to be embarrassed whenever they started to boast about him, but in reality, he didn’t mind too much; it was nice to be recognized. The end of class rolled around quicker than Logan had expected, the teacher signing off with giving them a hefty homework task to complete over the weekend, leaving students groaning and mumbling in discontent while Logan just jotted it down in his notebook.

After placing his things neatly in his bag and staying back to ask his teacher one question about the homework, he left the classroom, heading towards the school gates. On a normal day he would walk home with Virgil, since he only lived about a five minute walk away from his home, however Virgil was not waiting for him at the gate today. He had messaged him a little while ago, letting him know that he was going to stay back in the library to proofread his paper that they didn’t get to read at lunch with some of the student volunteers there. Logan was very tempted to join him in the library, but he knew Virgil wouldn’t let him stay and would bring up the whole ‘overworking’ thing again, so he kept on walking, past the school gates, onto the street.

At about fifteen minutes into his walk, the lack of the usual conversation he would be having with Virgil began making things a little dull, leaving the occupation of his mind to his thoughts. At any one time Logan was thinking of many things, and this was no exception. He was thinking about how best to start his ancient history homework, if his mothers had brainstormed any weekend plans, what his grade would be on their recent math quiz, a rather tricky chemistry question that had puzzled him for quite some time, and unsurprisingly, his biology project. Even though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t help that prickly feeling under his skin when he thought about it being handed in incomplete.

Logan stopped in the middle of the path and looked around. A decent distance from him, yet well within his line of sight, he could see the tree line that separated the suburbs from the woods that all the infrastructure was built around. Logan had heard about developers fighting over the woods for a long time, wanting to build apartment blocks, but the land was protected by the government under an environmental act; Logan was pretty sure it was a national park, or at least something of the sort.

He stayed looking at the tree line for a few moment, hesitating on a decision. He knew that Virgil warned him against worrying over the project too much but surely it couldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t take long to find a sample anyways, stinging nettle was rather common around these parts, and taking a short detour was surely better than leaving his biology project unfinished. Without another thought, Logan diverted from the sidewalk and started heading towards the woods. It was a short walk, mostly downhill, so it didn’t take long, and once he passed the tree line, the shade provided by the canopy was a welcome protection from the warm afternoon sun.

The air was cool and damp from the recent summer rains, and the leaf litter crunched softly under his feet as he walked further in, his path illuminated by the few rays of afternoon sun that snuck in through the canopy. Logan took a short moment just to look around and appreciate it all. He had always had a soft spot for nature, ever since he was a small child. His mothers were obsessed with showing him environment documentaries and watching how excited he would get over the pretty plants and cool fauna. Eventually, as he got older, that excitement turned into a genuine passion and curiosity. The natural world was certainly considered to be one of his personal interests.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a sudden strange feeling that burrowed it’s way into his chest. He didn’t know where it had come from or what exactly the feeling was, all he knew was that suddenly, his body felt a little lighter, and he felt the sudden urge to keep walking forward. For a moment he thought it was like he was being beckoned, but that was an illogical thought, it was just some strange instinct. All thoughts of the strange feeling were forgotten when he finally stumbled upon what he had been looking for; a patch of stinging nettle, well he supposed it could hardly be considered a ‘patch’, as it was arranged in a rather strange manner, growing in a perfectly neat circle on the ground in front of him, with little white flowers blossoming below each leaf. In the middle of the circle sat a smooth stone, with little tufts of moss growing off it. Logan admired it for a few moments, almost like he couldn’t quite take his eyes off of it. The feeling in his chest ached softly, he ignored it.

He thought it was strange, for the nettle to be growing in such a perfect circle like it was. Perhaps someone had come along and planted it like this, or maybe it was some wonderful coincidence. He wasn’t entirely sure, but for some reason it captivated him.

After a minute or two he caught himself getting distracted by his thoughts and snapped himself out of it. He knew collecting a sample of this stuff would be tricky, he didn’t want to get stung, and he didn’t really have the right equipment for the job. He considered turning back and waiting for another day to return when he had something safer to carry the plant with, but quickly dismissed that thought, he was here now, he might as well get it done. Besides, he had told his teacher that it would be completed by tomorrow, and he intended to live up to that claim.

Crouching down, Logan put his hand in the hem at the bottom of his shirt and used it to safely pick a piece of nettle, tearing off a few leaves near the bottom so he could let go of his shirt and hold it by the stem. He observed the piece he had taken, it was adequate, but the leaves were small and the flowers were a little wilted, not the most pristine specimen. With a slight frown, Logan looked back at the circle, and a stem of nettle across from him on the other side of the circle caught his eye; large green leaves, a tall stem, numerous little white flowers, it would do perfectly.

The young man gingerly stepped into the circle, careful not to tread on any of the other bits of nettle, and crouched down inside of it, reaching out to pick the nettle from the base of the stem to avoid getting stung. He smiled a bit, admiring it once it was in his hand as he felt that strange feeling in his chest soar. It would work perfectly, he was sure to get a good mark on his biology project, now that everything was accounted for.

Logan had time for only one more thought, that being that he was suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded, before everything suddenly went dark.

#esp #logince fic #logince fanfic #logince fanfiction #logince #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #slowburn logince #slowburn moxiety

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bonesandthebees · 10 months

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Actually being more awake on 6 hours would make sense because a sleep cycle is 1h30 (and your wake up after each one but don’t remember in the morning) so any multiple of that tends would have you be more awake then 8. I tend to do for 7h30.

Though when you wake up during your sleep cycle also makes a difference. You naturally wake up at the end, which is the best way to wake up. And if you consistently wake up and go to sleep at the same time it regulates your melatonin-cortisol cycle a lot better which makes it so you’re well-rested (though consistently applying that can be a Bitch).

Anyway, my point was that if your alarm wakes you up in the middle of a sleep cycle you will be more tired during that day.

Sorry for the info dump.

-🌲

oh yeah that's all very true! I took a course on the biology behind circadian rhythms in uni so I remember learning about that stuff

I always try to wake up naturally bc I can definitely feel the difference when my alarm wakes me up in the middle of a sleep cycle. I feel so dead and don't know what year it is if I get woken up in the middle of REM sleep lol. it's just frustrating when my body decides to naturally wake me up after like 4 and a half hours when I could sleep for 6 or 7 hours

at the very least I tend to go to bed around the same time every night?? roughly around 1-1:30 am these days so at least I'm consistent about it

circadian rhythms are very interesting though. my mom isn't diagnosed with this but I'm very convinced she has a circadian rhythm disorder that shifts her rhythm back a few hours bc she goes to bed and wakes up so early (like, she goes to sleep around 8-9pm, sometimes even 7pm, and wakes up at like 4-5ish (sometimes 3) naturally. she doesn't do this on purpose it's just what her body wants her to do). there have been many times where i'm going to sleep right when she wakes up

#ask #spruce anon

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cryopathiic-a · 6 months

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♡ + astra!

ship meme || accepting

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃? Dōma will say it was Astra and that she was pining for him hard from the first moment; but need I remind you the first moment entailed him standing there with his face half-melted off drooling— And by 'asking out' he possibly means the prison transport to her office...

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂? Dōma and we should write that moment because we haven't and it haunts me at nights!!!

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂? Dōma, when he's not sarcastically calling her Master or Lord Stellaris or whatever, uses a lot of conventional terms of endearment but he's also a big fan of the westernized ones, when they learn them. Astra defaults to 'babe' and 'snowdrop'.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚂? Dōma and because he can't taste-test they're always either extremely salty or extremely sweet; and Astra still eats them, unless he's pushed it to the point where take out becomes the only option

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙲? Probably Astra. Dōma's isn't as expanded.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙾𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙳? Dōma because he's a princess(tm) and unfortunately in this verse he needs the rest, so he usually sleeps in the starfish pose on top of her.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃? Morning wise, usually Astra. In general, it depends on how much Dōma has been fed. But he will, of course, sleep in every time they have to be up for something and then insist it's her fault for not feeding him enough—

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴? Astra, unless they've fought the previous night or something. Then he might make some for her as a peace offering.

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙾𝙽? Dōma, though he's more of a weighted blanket.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃? Both, but if this refers to a circadian rhythm it's definitely Dōma and if not, then it's Astra. Usually there will be some hours where either of them is sleeping while the other is awake.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳? Astra for his, usually. And there's times when he will respond by wrapping an arm around her/embracing her or squeezing her fingers, but there's also times where he'll withdraw his hand or stick it in his pocket.

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝙳𝙰? Dōma, because he knows he can embarass her with it.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝙽𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚂? Astra when she's hella tired and sleeping on her back, change my mind. Dōma makes a quiet chirping noise sometimes when he's sleeping lightly, but usually he just sleeps like cadaver.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚈? Astra and it's his favorite thing about her.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙴𝚇? Dōma. Astra isn't as invested in general, after all, and Dōma has a habit of using it for everything including making up after arguments, stress relief, quick alleviation from boredom, so on and so forth

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙶𝙴? Astra better give him a proper proposal when that time comes. So he can go on to say some bullshit about how he's a forever bachelor and get a good kick between his legs for it.

𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂: Probably their time at the concert, a night out drunk which we haven't written yet, their time at the skating ring or by the beach...

𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂: I don't think Dōma has any regrets regarding how he treats Astra, because he doesn't really self-reflect on it. And he doesn't regret not turning her sooner, either, because he did enjoy their time being at a power imbalance with him as a demon and her as a human. One thing I can think of, though, is his behavior towards Ezra. If he'd known the backstory before meeting her, he would have simply killed her on the spot <3 Problem solved, right?

𝙸𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶: Dōma hates her relationship with her brother. Because Atreus is always the first priority and overshadows him in many ways. Outwardly he expresses that with 'concern' over their sibling relationship being co-dependent. But, ideally he'd like to cut her off from him. Because as long as Atreus is around, in whatever form, he'll continue to be number two. And that's obviously not his endgoal here.

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴: From Astra he understands gift giving, quality time and physical touch as primary ones. In turn he offers physical touch, words of affirmation and occasionally acts of service, though those are dependent on if he's looking to gain something from her at the time —

#♥ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ɢᴏᴅ ᶠᵗ. ᴬˢᵗʳᵃ | astra stellaris ♥#(( overall ship rating: it's cute. ))#astra stellaris #♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered

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thecurioustale · 8 months

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The Majuscular & Minuscular Days

The Relancii day is longer than our day here on Earth—32% longer, in fact. Now you might think that, when it comes to sleep–wake cycles, our viutari counterparts would simply sleep longer and be awake for longer than what we humans are built for. But this isn't necessarily how they do it. Or at least it's not the only way.

On Relance most societies have the concept of what I call the "majuscular day" and the "minuscular day." You can probably infer from context what these are: a primary wakeful period during the daylight hours, and a secondary wakeful period deep in the night, respectively. So their waking hours and their sleeping hours are both split in two.

The Relancii minuscular day, far from being an afterthought, is often quite elaborate, and even has a customary meal associated with it: flame, the seventh and final meal of the day (in some reckonings). While people don't typically go out in public or perform hard labor during the minuscular day, it is a good time for household chores, study, and casual downtime.

I first came up with this idea of a second waking period of my own accord to help structure my own personal life. I have non-24 sleep–wake syndrome, which means that my circadian rhythm is slightly longer than 24 hours and thus, when left to my own devices, I will on average gradually go to sleep later and later each day: deep in the night, after dawn, around midday, in the afternoon, and finally all the way back around the clock to the early night again—and the cycle repeats from there. And, as far as the calendar is concerned, I will have lost one day in the course of one cycle; i.e. I will have had let's say eight waking days when the calendar will say nine days have passed. (In fact the actual number varies quite a lot.)

(The other direction, of going to sleep earlier on average, is also possible, but is extremely rare, and this is already a rare condition to begin with.)

I have powerful insomnia if I try to sleep when I'm not tired, so if for any reason I wake up with significantly less than a full night's sleep under my belt, I have learned through harsh experience that I may as well get up and do stuff, because otherwise I'll just lie there in bed going insane. Then, what will sometimes happen is that I will tire out after an hour or two, and i will be able to actually go back to sleep.

To the extent that I associate this with the dark of night, I came to think of it as my own personal secret day, hidden away in the privacy and calmness of nighttime.

Years later, when I determined that the Relancii day is longer than our own, I introduced this concept as a cultural regularity across Relance and devised the names "majuscular day" / "minuscular day." Much like with the Ribbon of Dajar (i.e. the Belt / Girdle of Venus), I use these terms in real life now, too.

While the convention varies from society to society on Relance, and between individuals within societies, it is normalized in most places to have a second waking period in the night. This is particularly true in the dark seasons, when nearly two-thirds of those long days are in darkness. You can't sleep for all of that!

What's truly wild—and I'm sure some of you were screaming at me to mention this—is that this is something that we do on Earth, too! It's not just weirdos like me; it's actually quite common throughout history, prior to electrification and the regularization of indoor lighting at nighttime, for people to have taken two sleeps and had an intermediate waking period in a given 24-hour period. This practice even has a scientific name, identifying it as a topic of study: biphasic sleep. The topic is still fairly niche and the data rather thin, so don't allow my generalizations to give you the impression that I speak ironclad truths here. But the way I tell it is the way I see it myself.

Here's an interesting article about biphasic sleep from BBC Future back in 2022, which goes into both the history and the science. What surprised me the most in my historical research on this is that, to my estimation, human cultures have generally conceptualized this biphasic sleep by focusing not so much on the midnight waking period as on the two different sleeping periods. From the Wikipedia article on what they call polyphasic sleep:

Ekirch has found that the two periods of night sleep were called "first sleep" (occasionally "dead sleep") and "second sleep" (or "morning sleep") in medieval England. He found that first and second sleep were also the terms in the Romance languages, as well as in the language of the Tiv of Nigeria. In French, the common term was premier sommeil or premier somme; in Italian, primo sonno; in Latin, primo somno or concubia nocte.[12]: 301–302 He found no common word in English for the period of wakefulness between, apart from paraphrases such as first waking or when one wakes from his first sleep and the generic watch in its old meaning of being awake.

So they had common names for the two sleeps but no common name for the waking interval in between, nor any contrasting word for the main waking interval during the day. I found this quite surprising both conceptually and in terms of my personal experience, and you can anticipate my surprise simply by looking at my own conceptualization: I had named the majuscular and minuscular days but not the two sleeping periods, and, in my personal life prior to bringing this to Relance, even without these terms I had conceptualized the midnight waking period as a phenomenon in its own right rather than focusing on the two sleeps surrounding it. The sleeps were an afterthought to me, except to note from my personal expeirence that the first sleep is more desperately needed and harder to rouse from, while the second is more serene and stable. I wonder if my impression is true that societies historically focused on the sleeps rather than the wakes, and if so why they did it that way. To me it is so much more useful to conceptualize it in terms of the waking periods rather than the sleeps.

On a tangential vein, on Relance there is also a counterpart in the bright seasons to the often quite lengthy minuscular day in the dark seasons: a sort of "grand nap" in the middle of the day, not unlike the siesta, where instead of cleaving the night in two and stuffing some daytime in between the halves, people cleave the day in two and stuff some night in between. This is less universal across Relance, but still quite common. And, like I was saying, I haven't finalized the vocabulary for this yet. But it's an especially useful concept in places like Soda Fountain, which are far too hot in the summer middays for most people to be super productive anyway.

#The Curious Tale #Majuscular day #Minuscular day #Biphasic sleep #Non-24 sleep–wake syndrome

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