#also the doctor struggling with what it means to be a good person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deoidesign · 11 months

Text

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

#mobility aid #cane user #writing tips #writing advice #drawing tips #art tutorial #art tips #art reference #art resources #art help #my art #long post

75K notes · View notes

lactoseintolerentswag · 8 months

Text

Rise Characterizations

Last month I did an in-depth re-watch of rottmnt s1 to take some notes on writing the characters of rise from their perspective and such. Figured I'd share what I found, but I'm also posting this bc my docs have a nasty habit of blipping out of existence.

We'll start with Raph bc he's the oldest of course, but I'll post the others sep. bc this is gonna get long!!

Raph Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrases: "like a boss", "smash"

Verbalizes his attacks such as "smash", "knuckle sandwich", "power smash jitsu", "tonfa power jitsu", "mystic punch jitsu"

Uses older song titles for surprised exclamations or in place of cursing, most notably "jumping jack flash!"

Uses aave/bae, For example: 'em instead of them, 'ey instead of they, 'cause instead of because, forgoes the g in ing words (going becomes goin')

Uses less and less grammar the more he's stressed, and his voice will come to a higher pitch

Will speak in a softer tone to his little brothers if he's concerned about hurting their feelings. Aka babying them

Mixes up both metaphors and idioms. Would be one to say how the turn tables unironically

Does say "hero" a lot, lost count, especially in phrases like "hero town"

Refers to his brothers as "boys" or "fellas"

Refers to Splinter as "pop(s)" most often

Refers to strangers he's directly talking to as "bubs" or "hoss"

Personality:

Protective of his family

Plays up the hero act/has a strong sense of duty and justice

Impatient, rushes in without a plan (pre-movie), doesn't finish books until the end, falls asleep during "boring movies"

Oblivious, doesn't read into things beyond surface level. Struggles with empathy when something is beyond his understanding, but is still very emotional

Center of responsibility for his brothers, but also has a reckless sense of fun. As long as it's him doing the stupid unsafe thing it's fine

Carries the weight, in a literal sense he piggy backs his brothers, but will also use his body as a shield from danger. Unfortunately this also means he takes his brothers a little less seriously (Mikey the most common victim), and will try and either protect them from everything or as an oldest sibling everything has go "his way"

Doesn't do well in solitude. Needs to be looking after people to feel functional, and needs to be around people to feel safe

Clumsy, "takes horrible pictures", isn't very good at hiding, he's a big guy so it probably took a lot of time to find balance

A sweet guy who still won't shy from making fun of his family. Leo tends to be the brunt of his teasing since he is the most annoying, but he will also poke Donnie on his dramatics

Likes cute things!!! Has a teddy bear collection and loves animals. It's so cool how this isn't played off as a joke and he's still just as masculine for liking pink and cutesy stuff

Likes fighting!!! Gets a lot of energy out defeating bad guys (where he directs his anger towards), the one who is shown to train the most, and also weight lifts in his spare time

Doesn't do well under pressure, here the anger comes out the most. He gets stressed when it's all on him, especially since he tends to mess up the most in these moments

Miscellaneous:

Second to unlock mystic powers

Nicknames/codenames: "raph-a-doodle" by leo, "red rover" by april, "red king" by donnie

Teddy bear names: Doctor Huggenstein, Captain Snuggles, Cheech

Stinks: fear stink, amazement stink, sneaking up on people stink, victory stink

Seems to be less afraid of rabbits and more afraid of puppets

Went on his first solo mission at 13

Cannot lift a bus, at age 15

Thought about discussing fighting style, but I'm not as familiar with that concept and I've seen a couple posts dissecting such topic. So we'll end here for now. Hope this was helpful!!! I'll post the rest of the boys later and link here

Leo is up!!

Donnie is up!!

Mikey is up!!

Splinter is up!!

April is up!!

Cassandra is up!!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt raphael #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #character analysis #long post #fanfic #writing #critter talks

2K notes · View notes

starastrologyy · 5 months

Text

Astrology Notes 🪐

Hi everyone :) My chart readings are still open! The link is in my bio for those who are interested 🤍 My reading reviews are on my Masterlist :)

When your Solar Return Mars is in the 6th house, this is likely to be a very productive year. However, you need to make sure you’re taking care of your health and not overworking yourself. Burnout and poor health will often emerge in such a year, if you are not prioritizing your health and peace.

If you have the ruler of your midheaven in the 10th house, you may own your own business or be in a managerial position at your job. People who reach great heights in the careers often have this placement. It is also possible that you may work in a traditionally ‘prestigious’ or well respected career. Examples are working as a doctor, lawyer, CEO of a successful company etc…

If you have the ruler of your 8th house in the 4th, you may find that you make a lot of money investing in real estate. This is also a placement that can suggest receiving an inheritance from a family member.

Saturn transiting your 3rd house can be a very somber time in your life. You may feel unmotivated or prone to feelings of loneliness and melancholy during this time. Similar to Saturn transiting the 9th house, your outlook on life in general may not always be the most pleasant during this time. Nevertheless, this can be a good time to enroll in a short course or some kind of educational program.

Saturn in the 9th house of a composite chart can be that the two people have very different belief systems and that consequently causes restrictions within the relationship. However, it can also be the opposite. Meaning, the thing that “binds” the couple together is in fact their shared belief systems. Saturn in the 9th is also common to see in the composite charts of couples who are long distance or those who travel long distances together(couples who travel to different countries together).

Something so interesting is that we often have aspects or placements that are associated with the sign over one or both of our parents 5th house cusp. For example, your mother may have Uranus in the 5th house, and you may have an Aquarius Sun, Moon, or rising. Alternatively, it could be that Uranus aspects many of your other placements. I know this may not apply to everyone, but look into your parent’s birth charts! You may be surprised!

A new romantic or business relationship can often start when your Progressed Moon makes a conjunction to your natal descendent. This is especially true if it is a “progressed new moon”. Meaning, your progressed moon is making a conjunction to your natal sun.

Moon square Mars synastry can at times be difficult (especially if it occurs at an orb that is less than 3 degrees) because the Moon person may perceive the Mars person as being insensitive, harsh, or even impulsive. Whereas the Mars person can view the Moon person as being overly sensitive. In a romantic relationship, this aspect can add to the attraction. However, if there are no mitigating factors there can be hurt feelings over time.

When someone’s Mercury falls into your 12th house in synastry, you may feel comfortable opening up to them, and telling them things you would not ordinarily tell someone else. You could often talk about spirituality, mental health, and things you prefer to keep “hidden” from others. At times you may even feel like they can “read your mind” or easily sense what you’re thinking.

People with the North Node in the 7th house tend to be hyper independent (South Node 1st house). Thus, actively dedicating time to connect meaningfully with others is a big part of their karmic destiny here on earth. There is a tendency to self isolate with a 1st house south node, especially when the individual is struggling in any capacity.

On the topic of isolation, those who have the ruler of their Ascendant in the 12th house are also inclined to isolate themselves from the world when struggling. Escapist behaviors can also be high with this placement. However, these are some of the most compassionate and resilient people you will meet.

People with Mars retrograde in their charts may struggle when it comes to the manner in which they express anger/their drive. These people can often hold onto anger for extended periods of time only to let it all out at once. Thus, their anger can often seem misplaced or to come from “out of the blue”.

#astrology tumblr #astrology #astrology observations #synastry #astro thoughts #astrology blog #astro posts #astrologyposts #astro tips #astro notes

532 notes · View notes

yourpsicodelicbitch · 11 months

Text

Ascendants at different degrees 🦚🦢

my natal mercury is square with transiting mercury 😭 km pls. my mind has been a MESS I can’t and that’s why all my fucking ideas seemed difficult to write. srry if it’s not it.

julianlandini

Ascendant at Pisces degree (12° or 24°)

that’s fucking meee. i have this fairy vibe or they often call me hippie. that sensible and humanitarian side it’s there, the wanting to contribute for the best of others, to make that world they dreamed of basing it on the different perspective of others, of what the other have felt and how they have felt when they witnessed it. since the origin, since the depth of things. the path of their life is about to express themselves and to speak for others? The ones that couldn’t spoke? Bc all their life they have been listening to them, looking from a side the reality they’re scared of. -they’ve been psychologists if you want to call it that way-. They want to give love, they have so much love to give. During a period of their life -mostly childhood- they could have felt isolated from the world, these period of time could have been pretty sensible for them and helped them to “open their eyes”, how the world they thought worked was a lie.

Ascendant at Taurus degree (2°, 14° or 26°)

the difference of a person when the degree of the ascendant changes it’s incredible. There’s two people in my life that have aries rising but the one with taurus is completely different of the other. How a person with taurus degree on their ascendant live or the vibe of their life…they want comfort but at the same time have to have what they want, they’re persistent in to what they want and that’s attractive. I have seen people with this placement having a lot of romantic interactions or situationships, it’s easy for them to attract lovers👅 I’ve noticed they make good use of opportunities, they remind me of a bear bc I want to hug them no matter what. They’re realistic or practical. They indeed are critical with food, they need to take their nap to feel good. They’re like old people, how they point out manners and limits people have to have on their perspective and etc. I’ve seen a lot of people with these placement that had moved to their natal place to other bc of the opportunities. could mean also they are part of a family that can provide them economic support or/but with time they had struggle with it.

Ascendant at Aries degree (1°, 13° or 25°)

they’re pretty erratic, they look fucking mad all the time. They’re impulsive, their emotions, their decisions, they don’t know how they ended up the way they ended up. You can see from aside they’re natural liders. however, their whole life they’ve been fighting for being the liders of their life. there’s people around them that don’t understand limits, that think they have the right to control the aries degree life. these placement have to learn that they have the right to stand up for they want even if others don’t want to or don’t let them. they want to have something build by their own, THEIR thing, if not they’ll feel lost. they follow their heart and not doing it will cause problems in the future.

Ascendant at Capricorn degree (10° or 22°)

I have a friend that has Leo ascendant but she wasn’t giving me the stereotypical explosive energy someone expects from a leo. I did my research 😌 and of course she has a Capricorn degree. She is a very career focused person, grounded and driven by her goals. Also an introvert or priorities the company of the ones she likes the most or thinks is the best. She’s studying to be a doctor, her whole life will revolve around her work, she is devoted and has a BIG heart for her loved ones and the ones that would be part of her path. She looks serious. They’re seemed as reserved bc they’re 🤪 and when you get to know them they’re a beautiful soul. They won’t let anything get into their way when it comes to their career and goals, they’ll risk it all. Around their life they’ve had this introverted behavior or they’re Saturn ruled, which means they know bc they have to experience things, little by little but they have had and have to. In other words, they have seen and been in difficult situations that later -bc they have the power- analyzed the situation in 3er person to comprehend bc if not saturn will do what they do🤭

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro notes #astro placements #ascendant #rising #birth chart #Aries degree #Capricorn degree #pisces degree #taurus degree

1K notes · View notes

ficnation · 7 months

Text

Chapter 4: Bon Appétit

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)

This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.

“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.

“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain.

“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.

It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.

“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”

Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”

You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.

“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.

For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.

Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.

“I have to keep seeing him.”

You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.

You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.

You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair.

Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.

He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.

“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.”

Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”

You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.

You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.

“Change your fucking tone, Will.”

You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.

“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.

Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.

“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.

“I’m proposing.”

The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.

“What the fuck, Will?”

Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.

“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”

You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?

“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”

“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”

He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”

Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.

“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?”

“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”

A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.

“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid.

Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.

You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.

“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple.

A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.

“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.

“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love.

Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit.

“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”

The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.

“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.

Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.

Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.

You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.

Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.

The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed.

You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.

Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room.

You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely.

There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them.

You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.

“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within.

The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer.

“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.

It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls.

Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.

Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.

You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.

Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.

You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.

“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”

You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.

“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.

“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder.

You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.

Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.

“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes.

“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”

Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.

“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”

“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.

Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist.

“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.”

Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in. “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.

After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.

“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.

Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair.

“I know.”

His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.

You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”

Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.

“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”

“Why does she want you to stay away?”

“Because I tried to kill him.”

You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.

“How?”

Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”

Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.

“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.

“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.

The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.

“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.

You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.

“If you…”

“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.

“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”

Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before. His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.

“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.”

Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.

“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”

Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting.

When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.

“I love you, Will.”

#eat your heart out #smut #mdni #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannigram #will graham x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter #will graham

591 notes · View notes

yanderestarangel · 6 months

Text

HEADCANONS MIGUEL O'HARA | FTM O'HARA X FTM READER

˚｡⋆.☆TW: afab anatomy, praise, t4t, use of testosterone, mention of dysphoria, fingering, smut, soft!boyfriend miguel, eat out, switch!miguel.

˚｡⋆.☆ I just wanted to write about ftm miguel ohara for a while now, I had never seen a ftm miguel x ftm reader, so... I wrote it.

♡ ₊ ˚— Contrary to what everyone at spidersociety thinks, dating Miguel is a happy and comforting experience, especially when you share the same struggle, experience and pain - being trans men - he is much more open to a debate when he knows that you. He is also an FTM person, thus beginning a calm friendship that in the future led to the two of you dating.

♡ ₊ ˚— However, obviously, O'Hara will not fall in love with you just because you two are equal, but because he saw in you a more peaceful and welcoming future, away from the pain that being a Spider-Man brought, he lost a daughter and he doesn't want to lose you either. He is a lonely, rude man, but deep down, he just needs to be loved too - if you are his safe haven, he will be yours.

♡ ₊ ˚— He will want to know everything about how you feel about your body, gender, etc. If you want to make a complete transition like him - major surgery, testosterone etc - he won't hesitate to recommend the same doctors who took care of him and will also go to every appointment you go to. Miguel will always be by your side, helping you make the best decisions to be comfortable with yourself, he will even give you the list of exercises he does and also help you train every day. However, if you don't want to touch anything and you feel good about your body, it will support you in the same way, regardless of everything, Miguel O'Hara is your boyfriend and respects you more than anything in the multiverse.

♡ ₊ ˚— If you suffer from dysphoria, he will find a way to make you see the incredible man you are, he will praise you, talk to you and use all the resources he can to make you feel good about yourself, Hugging you for hours and leaving you in his lap while he listens to your every outburst, running his hand down your back while whispering that everything is going to be okay.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes you to kiss or trace with your finger the scars from his top surgery, whenever he is shirtless, sweaty after a list of exercises, he will show off for you - he is attention-starved, Please pay attention to Miguelito - he will stand in front of you, smiling seductively as he watches you drool over his physique. "-You can touch me if you want, mi amor..." He would speak in a provocative tone, but soon the leader's 'don juan' banner would fall, when he saw you kiss his scars, making him blush and let out a soft moan, taking his big hands to your hair and caressing the locks, you are his soft spot... And he doesn't mind being a soft boyfriend with you.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara also likes to hold your hand every time he gives himself testosterone injections. He's not afraid of needles, after all, he needs to apply ruptures too to make himself weaker. However, every time he applies it, being with you by his side is a refreshing sight, it's a quick action but one that means a lot to him and to you too. The futuristic Spider-Man will always hug you afterwards... But be prepared to also deal with the uncontrollable lust he gets after that.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes to fuck you, and be fucked. He will return home with a dripping pussy after an extremely stressful tiring day, the Mexican will not even give you time to think straight, just lifting you over his shoulder and taking you to the surface closest to the house - opening your thighs , exposing your pussy to him while he brought his lips to your core, hungrily licking your wet skin. “-Give me that pussy, be a good boy...” Miguel growls out, fucking you with his fingers and tongue at the same time. His own pussy twitches in anticipation as he continues to tease and tantalize you. "-So fucking good..," he mutters between suckles - Miguel pushed four fingers inside of you, curving them upward towards your G-spot. You let out a gasp of surprise at the intense stimulation causing waves of pleasure to course through your body. "-Like that?" He'll make you cum first, and then you'll be able to return the favor.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara will rub himself against your face, his pussy dripping, taking extreme care not to hurt you with his weight. “-Fuck... cariño...” Miguel groans loudly into the room. “-Suck my clit harder... make me cum all over your tongue.” He feels your mouth enveloping his pussy, the warm wetness enclosing him in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hips buck involuntarily against your face as he reaches out for your head, trying to guide it further downwards. He will shake and moan over your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

♡ ₊ ˚— He and you have a variety of sex toys, especially a custom-made and technological strap-on, which sends waves of pleasure through his pussy with each thrust he makes in your cunt. You'll be able to fuck him too, Miguel really doesn't mind letting you take control sometimes. He will want to be praised too, things like that. "-Such a good boy for me" "-Fuck Miguel, you are so beautiful fucking my pussy like that" "-I love you so much mi guapo" among others, make the brunete blush and whimper with pleasure, especially if you suck your nipples him, while fucking him until you're both a shaking, sweaty mess on the bed - he also loves to dominate you and talk dirty to you when it's his turn to dominate you. Things like: “-You make me so fucking wet.”, "-Let loose all those dirty thoughts about me… say them.", “-You like this? Wanting me so bad that even my pussy craves yours?", "-Do you want me to finger-fuck you hard and fast? Or should I take my time, exploring every inch of you?", "-Cumming soon mi amor..."

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel also likes the 'scissor' position, making your two clits touch, a wet mess from both of your overstimulated pussies - he'll hold you close to him with his strong arms, dictating the speed - Or, he'll hold you close make you rub your pussy against his muscular thighs, while teasing you, just breaking you to the point of seeing you squirt on him, but, you can also do the same, kissing him while fingering every creamy wall of your spider boyfriend.

♡ ₊ ˚— After you two exhaust your energy fucking all over the house, he'll make sure you're okay, cleaning you up and kissing you, whispering how you pleased him and how lucky he is to have you in his life. The two of you will sleep cuddled together afterwards, with Miguel reassuring you and telling you that you can sleep in peace, that he will be there when you wake up.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

534 notes · View notes

illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 month

Text

The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...

Week 10: The Kumquat

Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.

But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.

You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.

But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.

You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.

Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗

You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.

In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.

You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.

They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.

“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”

“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”

You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.

“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”

“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”

You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.

She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.

But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.

“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.

The doctor nodded.

You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.

You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.

When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.

Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.

Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.

“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.

“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”

“Yes! After yours, of course.”

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”

“It’s really okay, Em.”

She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.

“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”

“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”

“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”

“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.

Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”

“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”

The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”

You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.

“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”

“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”

“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.”

“I love you, too.”

You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

196 notes · View notes

aurae-rori · 2 months

Text

DR RATIO ANALYSIS: PART 2, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT.

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you already did one, why do you need a second?" And my answer is, "LORD, I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT HOW HIS DEFINITION OF 'IDIOT' IS DIFFERENT. AND ALSO HE DOES NOT HATE AVENTURINE NOR DOES HE THINK AVENTURINE IS STUPID." Once again, here is my disclaimer - although I have been researching psychology for a solid six years, I am NOT a professional. (I will be, one day. Just you wait, just youuuu wait-) So understand that everything I say has been analyzed with personal judgement, with my own conclusions, come to with logic and my personal interpretation. This is just what I have concluded, and you are always free to disagree.

This is my legacy. To be an analyzer. So let's go.

Okay, now that my disclaimer is over, let's take off Ratio's plaster head and chuck it into the sea, and see - what does he mean by 'idiot'?

This will be much shorter than my last, so don't worry - I will not be flashbanging you with another 4k words. This is more like a follow up, than anything else, because there's a few things I wish to touch on.

Dr. Ratio doesn't hate idiots in the sense that he hates people that have 'low IQ' or are 'stupid' in terms of being 'slow to understand'. I definitely touched on this in my last analysis, but he hates people who take their education for granted and don't go places with the gifts that they've been given. He hates "idiots" - "narrow minded" people who have the capabilities to do more and perceive more than they choose to do. People who deliberately look away or take what they know and what they could do for granted. He wants to open people's eyes and allow them to see life from multiple different angles and he believes that everyone should have a chance to learn - with the whole "knowledge for everyone" thing he's got rolling.

He wears a plaster head around people he doesn't seem to know too well in order to think more, or so that he doesn't have to see the faces of the people he dislikes. Pretty good roast. However, he does NOT wear that plaster head around Aventurine. Let's listen to the doctor's judgement - Aventurine is far from stupid. Although he likes to chalk up a lot of the things he does to his own luck, he is an INCREDIBLY capable individual who's managed to get this far because of his own form of genius. He's a man who relies on chance and good fortune, yes, but his charm, his way of scheming, and the way that he's good with people? That's skill. A talent he doesn't take for granted. Dr. Ratio respects him for this - because despite the fact that he has no proper education, he has his eyes wide open to the world and doesn't take shit for granted. He learns what he can in order to survive and he does it fucking well - Aventurine is a very smart man. He's observant, quick on his feet, and great at going with the flow and thinking in the moment.

Aventio aside, I actually believe that Dr. Ratio would be a really good teacher to those who struggle. He's patient where it's needed to be, even if he's got a quick temper, and I believe in his pursuit for knowledge he would do his best to go out of his way to find strategies that would work for their individuals. We're all unique, and he's aware of this - and because he wants to allow people to think for themselves, whatever helps the individual works. Depression? He's got a psych degree, I'm sure bro could give you some strategies. Autism? He has a touch of the 'tism himself. ADHD, and not feeling organized? Bro will help you. It's canon that he's a great fucking teacher - those who finish his classes go on to become successful people who are intelligent and critical thinkers. Round of applause for Ratio, the man that kins my father. He's shit at emotions, but great at knowledge.

Also, on that note, I believe that he would most likely hate parents that push thier "gifted" students to the limit without any compassion for the person that they really are. He's most definitely got some of that academic trauma so I believe that bro holds a secret disdain for parents who just use their children to gain more recgonition. Well, not so secret. He'd cuss them out. (Ratio please cuss out the horrible parents.)

Dr. Ratio, the Teacher ever. (Hey, maybe he'd get along with Kunikida...)

Also, I am definitely planning on making a fic where he teaches Aventurine Latin. As long as you're eager to learn and willing to look past the chalk being thrown, he's got a place for you.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. I did not read this through, so this is not edited. Take my unedited rambles.

#aurae analyzes #dr ratio #drratio #veritas ratio #analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #hsr #aventio #ratiorine #aventurine #dr ratio x aventurine #character study

191 notes · View notes

herzspalter · 8 months

Text

Since I've been talking about it here and have been asked about it, I want to give you all a short health update. The short version is, we've finally figured out why I'm so fatigued, and unfortunately, it's not gonna go away, and I can no longer do as much art as I want to.

I want to keep this short: Very basically, most of you know that I've been struggling with fatigue for over two years now, and that every doctor's been telling me that I'm actually perfectly healthy, even though I'm clearly not.

Now, after a year of running to different doctors in vain, I've been diagnosed with Crohn's Disease. This explains not only my fatigue, but also my funky digestive issues, bizarre eye inflammation and other stuff I've had for a while and just thought heal on its own eventually.

Since it's a chronic disease, it won't go away, but we hope that it'll at least get a bit better once this flare up has been treated. What this means for me, is that I can never go back to drawing for hours as I used to. As much as that hurts me, I have to come to terms with it. I want to put my time into finishing commissions now, and dedicating the energy I do have into my comic project, and anything else like fanart and other doodles is going to be completely up to the spurts of energy I occasionally get.

It's nothing new, you all know how little I've been posting over the last year and longer, but now we at least know why. I'm still here ofc, nothing really changes, I just have to adjust my personal life and get used to this.

I'm okay, the people treating me are very kind and helpful, and while I am genuinely very upset at the prospect of likely never feeling fully awake again, I am too relieved to finally have closure and start treatment to be sad right now. Gonna have to move forward, there's no other choice anyway.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for being patient with me. I'm a private person and I don't like sharing too much about medical shit on here, but I know lots of you struggle with fatigue too and had asked me about my progress in the past, and I wanted to make sure that you know the conclusion to that whole odyssey <3

Love you all, take good care, I wish you the Best!

#medical stuff #health #might delete but fuck it it's nothing super personal

558 notes · View notes

five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 10 months

Text

autism levels, few “often get wrong” points need highlight again

[transcript: autism levels, few “often get wrong” points need highlight again]

^ masterpost by birdofmay for more basic stuff no able explain rn, like “what are levels” “how determine levels”

autism levels about how much support you need for autism specific symptoms—specifically, two autism criteria, social communication & restrictive repetitive.

not how much you feel like you struggle

levels compare you to all autistics. not allistic neurotypical nondisabled people.

level 1 mean “need support.” level 1 can struggle. unsupported burnt out level 1 can struggle a lot. unfortunately level 1 can be miserable in life.

not able finish school, not able drive, not able keep job, need help cant live independent—none of that automatic level 2 & 3. none of that automatic mean not level 1. know many people who level 1 who all that. level 2&3 people tend more common be those thing because autism symptoms cause very big struggle. but autism levels not actual about any of that.

autism levels is DSM 5 thing. country no use DSM 5 not get levels. countries use DSM 5, sometimes doctor still not assign levels, because that doctor don’t use levels, or level 1 & just leave out write.

autism level is official diagnosis thing. different from self diagnosing autism itself (which for lsn/level 1/etc have many resources about what it like, community, and like. not life risky), autism level really not same and not recommend self diagnose, to put nicely. because it about amount official support need, & limited info about level 2/3 (yes, even if look like many of us on tumblr, still very few), and because that most people never actual met entire autism spectrum met actual level 3 in person not to mention enough to be good sample size, so most have understanding of autism & autism levels that heavily lean to level 1, wrongly think any struggle w autism mean level 2 or 3. put in plainly, most you all don’t know don’t see enough about higher levels to actual label correctly (this actual include level 2/3 people—although yes personal experience, but that one experience).

many level 2 & 3 diagnose as that because we need the official support. for not die, for physical survive, and/or for basic quality of life. it not fun little label to collect to call self unfortunately

also, i say a lot of level 2/3 i abbreviate put them together because online autism community not often include both. but level 2 & 3 can be quite different quite far not “basic same thing”

autism level describe general average symptom & support needed

autism level can change over entire life, like born level 3 but adult now & level 2 or even 1(rare), or born level 1 & now adult level 2.

autism levels cannot change over hours days or short term in general. cannot “level 1 good day & level 3 bad day.” not even “last (few) month level 3 this (few) month level 1.”

autism levels not same as functioning labels. although can be use in same ableist way people use functioning labels. but fault is ableism. (remind that some people do self ID as low functioning after their diagnose and that okay)

autism level is not perfect and need improve

autism level important & needed especially for many of us who need many support or our autism symptom very big or struggle communicate.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #autism #loaf screm #level 1 autism #level 2 autism #level 3 autism #long post #tay dont look #tay don’t look

521 notes · View notes

urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months

Text

Perfume Regret

ExBoyfriend!Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: A fic inspired by Attention by Charlie Puth. Your ex-boyfriend Miguel O'Hara left you heartbroken and no matter how intense the effect he has on you still is, you're determined to use this party to get even.

Warnings: +18 meaning SMUT AND LANGUAGE MINORS DNI OR SO HELP ME GOD. Also there's angst and good old anger-fueled sex. The ending isn't heartbreaking don't worry.

Word count: 4K

I know that dress is karma

Perfume regret

Got me thinking 'bout when you were mine

Nightclubs had never been your scene.

While you weren't strictly averse to them, you didn't thrive in that element as much as some of your friends did. Yet, whenever you decided to make an appearance, it wasn't the stroboscopic lights, the promise of a few drinks with friends, or the energizing music that made the night worth it.

It was the hunt.

And the preparations began long before you even set foot out of your apartment, from the moment you stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe, your face a blank canvas. Getting ready with your favorite, emboldening playlist was usually a luxury but not tonight. Judging by the way you struggled to apply eyeliner over your lids with such shaky hands, tonight, you were in dire need of a crushing amount of confidence.

So much so that a glass with one remaining sip of red wine stood next to your makeup bag, waiting for you to take that last bit of liquid courage.

Yes, the mere thought of the chase always made your chest swell with excitement. The stolen glances from across the dancefloor until someone gave in and tried to make contact. Loud music left people no choice but to hold conversations in loud whispers that tickled your ear. The desperate attempts to make themselves worthy of your time and the small concessions you made to make them feel like the most special person in that tiny, packed, overpriced club. Flirting was a tango meant for two, and not knowing what kind of partner you'd be dancing with was exhilarating.

Not this time, however, you thought as you picked up the glass and poured the remaining wine down your throat. Tonight you were after a much too familiar prey that you'd once been dumb enough to let get away.

As soon as you got the digital invitation to the Alchemax Innovation Department New Year's Eve party, you knew it was time to settle the score.

A short buzz coming from your phone interrupted your train of thought as the screen lit up with a text from whom you considered to be your work best friend, Liz.

Heyy :) u coming?

Yep. Be there in 20, is everybody there already?

O'Hara is missing. Idk if he's coming, though.

Oh.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of all of this being for nothing. Whatever,. Who cared? You weren't doing this for him. You were doing it for yourself because you wanted to go out and have fun.

A weak smile tugged at your lips when you couldn't even convince yourself with that blatant lie. God, you felt like a terrible feminist at the moment. Screw you, Miguel O'Hara.

Those had been the last words you said to him before marching out of his apartment and slamming the door after you. Ever since that week during which he’d vanished from work with no explanation, your boyfriend had started to cancel your dates at the last minute or still be out at odd hours, and when he started to simply disappear and not answer your calls or texts several times throughout the day you began to worry.

When he asked if you could talk about something important, you figured you'd be getting an explanation, not dumped.

The reason, according to him? He was dealing with some personal issues that he could not tell you about, but he'd single-handedly decided it was in your best interest to just move on with your life, so he'd decided to break things off. His face when he said all of that remained engraved in your brain since that day. Cold. Logical. As devoid of any visceral emotion as a doctor would be when recommending you to give up carbs or red meat.

Two years of your life you'd given to him. You were planning to move in together. You were happy. For what felt like the very first time in your life, you were in love.

You took a deep breath to keep tears from running down your cheeks and ruining your mascara.

Even almost six months later, your heart painfully fluttered at the mention of his name.

Carefully, you dried your eyes with a piece of paper and took another deep, slow breath. Your eyes, beautifully framed by a smoky eyeshadow, slowly traced the reflection of your body in the mirror. A sleek, simple dress with a small slit on the side hugged your figure. You loved the color: a nearly black navy blue that matched your chosen makeup palette.

At the sound of your phone, your eyes drifted down to the lit-up screen.

Oh, nvm, he just got here.

The game was afoot.

As much as it hurt your pride to admit it, you were decidedly nervous as you made your way into the dimly lit nightclub, your eyes discreetly scanning the crowd in search of a particular set of brown eyes.

Suddenly, a voice made your face in the opposite direction.

"(Y/N)! Over here!" Liz called from the bar, waving at you with a huge smile that you returned as you walked towards her after wistfully looking at the busy crowd one last time. It wasn't until you reached the bar that you noticed she was sitting next to a man you didn't recognize.

"So, this is she," she nearly yelled right next to the man's ear when you got close enough to be heard above the deafening electronic beats.

"Hi, (Y/N), right?" He said, reaching out one hand, "I'm David. Liz has told me a lot about you,"

"Dave here just joined the team," Liz explained, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "I thought it would be nice to make him feel welcomed. I'll leave you to it. I have to go say hi to a few people," She continued as she left the bar, not before giving you a certain look that made you realize you'd walked straight into a trap. While David was decidedly handsome, and you could've considered him to be your type under different circumstances, right then, your mind was somewhere else.

"Sure," You replied distractedly, "So why did you choose to work here?"

That should be enough to keep him talking for a while about his college education and how all he'd ever wanted to do was work for this company and so on while you focused on the matter at hand.

Where the hell was he?

Could it be that he'd just popped in to greet a few people and had left before you arrived? Before the countdown?

Maybe he was celebrating New Year's with somebody else?

"Sorry, one shot of tequila, please," You loudly called as the bartender walked past you.

"Make that two, thanks man," David added with a flirtatious smile that you returned out of politeness, mentally praying for Liz to come back soon, knowing damn well that if she'd done this on purpose, there'd be no way out of this conversation.

You downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of you.

David asked you something, but his voice reached your ears as if he was underwater. For a minute, you wondered if such a small amount of alcohol could make you feel so dizzy until you realized it was something else. Your eyes had landed on the back of a familiar head. Brown, scruffy hair and a hearty laugh that had your hands shaking again as you placed the glass back on the wooden bar.

"God, I'm so sorry. My head's all over the place right now. You were saying?" You said, leaning closer to David.

"I asked if Alchemax tends to go easy on the new guys or kick them to the curb at the first mistake."

You laughed as if he'd just told an amazing joke, your eyes covertly going from his face to your target right behind him. At the sound of your laugh, his back stiffened, and you could see he was about to turn around. Right before he did, you quickly tore your eyes off him and glued them to David's face.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be just fine. I'll tell you what, I'll look out for you. How's that sound?” You replied, a more relaxed smile plastered on your face. David's eyes lit up. Poor guy. He probably thought that out of nowhere, his luck had shifted.

Slowly and without losing the amused grin, you peeked over David's shoulder and found Miguel O'Hara's searing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. Instead, he let those same calculating eyes unashamedly scrutinize every inch of your body that your gorgeous dress didn't cover and secretly fantasize about what it did.

Another loud laughter leaving your lips made him snap out of a trance-like state and look into your eyes. Hunting on grounds you were no stranger to had its advantages, such as knowing what to do and when. And so you didn't look away. You held his gaze, undaunted, as you took David's unfinished tequila and brought it up to your lips to take a sip, barely sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the last droplets off your lower lip. You mouthed an apology to the man before you as you walked away from the bar, both for the stolen tequila and for what was about to happen.

Trying your hardest not to smile or look at him, you made your way through the crowd straight toward Miguel, whose eyes you knew had remained with you since that intense visual exchange back at the bar. You felt them so intensely that you wondered if he could make you burst out in flames just by looking at you. You clenched your jaw as you got close enough for the scent of his enticing cedarwood cologne to fill your nostrils and travel all the way down to your chest, where your heart beat so strongly that it physically hurted.

You only had one shot. This was it.

It wasn't until you walked right past him that you finally acknowledged him, gifting him a faint smile as you stepped around him and walked toward the restrooms.

As soon as the door closed after you, you found the two stalls were empty. After confirming you were alone, a nervous grin took over your features. Biting your lip, you approached the mirror and distractedly began to comb your hair back in place and even retouched your nude lipstick, your eyes set on the reflection of the bathroom door.

Almost as if you'd timed it, the second you finished applying your makeup and threw it back into your purse, Miguel stealthily slid inside and shut the door after him.

A minute that felt like an eternity to him transcurred while you kept patiently tucking strands of hair behind your ears, concealing a smug grin. Something had to give. More often, sooner than later.

"Mind telling me what the fuck was that?"

His voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears like a once-favorite song you hadn't heard in months.

"What do you mean?" You calmly asked, never interrupting your task.

"(Y/N), stop that and look at me." He commanded, his patience wearing thinner by the second.

"I am looking at you," You nonchalantly replied, your eyes transfixed on his tense shape in the corner of the mirror as you slowly wiped some smudged lipstick off the edge of your bottom lip.

Outside, the one-minute countdown began. Neither of you could care less. Inside that dimly lit, empty nightclub bathroom, time was irrelevant.

In less than five steps, Miguel reached your side and, placing his hands on your shoulders, firmly spun you around to face him.

"Carajo, ¿Tú no entiendes, verdad?" He hissed, his next leaving his mouth after an ominous pause, "Now look at me."

Not happy with the way you were being handled, you shoved him away and shot him a glare with your arms folded before you.

"There, I'm looking. What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me who's that asshole and why you seem to think he's so damn funny,"

"I'm sorry, O'Hara, that's none of your business anymore, is it?" You spat out.

"It was none of my business,' He agreed, wincing at the dry use of his last name, "Until you showed up in here looking like that, laughing like a dumb teen at some guy's dumb jokes, making sure I'm watching after you did some pretty extensive research to make sure I was coming."

Wanting to rebuke that argument, you immediately opened your mouth just for him to interrupt you.

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out, bonita?"

Miguel started to move towards you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. Still, you weren't sure of what you would've said had you been given the time. Three seconds later, he was standing right before you, trapping you against the cold stone of the sinks.

"Why are you doing this?" He absentmindedly asked, as if he was actually questioning himself or already knew the answer. Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of your perfume along with something else that you couldn’t perceive but seemed to pull him forward so violently that he had to use both his strong arms on either side of you to hold himself back. Still, he kept babbling against the soft skin of your neck, “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…mi amor, I just wanted to protect you,”

“Protect me from what?” You asked in a breathy whisper, your self-control flaking when you felt him move even closer until your backside was pressed against the sink and your front...

You pressed your lips together to keep a noise that would be much too revealing from leaving your lips.

Still, you realized your trials and tribulations weren’t over when his hands slowly moved closer to your thighs until his thumbs were tracing faint circles on them.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a hoarse voice before burying his nose behind your ear once more. You had to want him to stop. Before you could gather up the courage to tell him off as you should, you leaned forward and feverishly pressed your lips against his in a kiss that was all but sweet. Without breaking the kiss, in a display of both strength and coordination that was new to you, Miguel slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the sink with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the way he nudged your legs out of the way so he could grind his lower half into yours. This time there was no way in hell you could contain your moans.

Pleased with the beautiful sounds he was eliciting from you, Miguel’s hands found their way back up to the thin straps of your dress, which he gently slid off from your shoulders before gripping your chin in his hand and tilting your head to the side so he could devour every inch of skin available, occasionally trapping it between his teeth to make sure it’d leave a mark. Even in your haze, you could notice there was something new to the way he was ravishing you. It was as if he was desperately trying to be gentle, to take things slow, just for something primal to take over and coerce him into taking you for himself.

Once again, you stopped thinking when he pressed the hard bulge in his pants against you, the friction over your barely clothed clit throwing all logical thoughts out the window.

“We don’t have much time,” You urged him, not even sure if he’d locked the door after himself. However, deep inside, you knew your motives had less to do with the little privacy and more with the way he unhurriedly worshipped your body and peppered kisses all over it, how his hands gently roamed it as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. It reminded you of what you two had in a way that was still too painful to remember. You wouldn’t lose yourself to the memories of your past and miss out on how good he was making you feel right now. Tonight you weren’t two people deeply in love with one another trying to fight back the regrets of letting go of what was most precious to you, but two strangers about to fuck in the bathroom of a nightclub.

As if to reinforce that thought, he swiftly pushed you further back onto the sink and pushed your legs apart even more, your dress ridding up almost all the way to your waist. You shivered as new skin was exposed to both the cold beneath you and the heat from Miguel’s skin as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Meanwhile, you kept yourself busy trying to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands and silently thanked he wasn’t wearing a jacket in the first place. You needed to get him out of as many clothes as possible in the little time you had, needing to feel more of his skin against yours.

Your desire wasn’t fulfilled until the shirt slid off his tan, broad shoulders, and you were pressed against his bare chest, his hands resting at the curve of your lower back as his head barely slid over your soaked slit, prying a raspy moan out of his throat that sounds almost painful. Still, even when you slid your hands around his shoulders and intertwined your fingers behind the nape of his head, he didn’t move further.

“What are you waiting for?” You breathlessly asked, arching your back towards him with a huff just for him to move his hips away, escaping your touch, trying to regain some control over himself.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” He muttered. Shit. Not right now. Out of the whole night, he had to choose this precise moment? No. He hurt you. He owed you. And now it was his turn to shut up and take it.

Taking advantage of his low guard, you hooked your feet behind his back and roughly pulled him towards you, another needy moan escaping your lips as you felt him right at your entrance, whatever remaining reluctance keeping him from sinking into you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from begging.

“Alright,” He finally says, his hands sliding under your thighs to hold you firmly in place, “If this is what it takes for you to listen to me, bonita, así le vamos a hacer entonces.”

He accentuated his words by slamming into you and immediately picking up a maddeningly fast pace, the loud music outside hopefully drowning out your endless string of broken moans.

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” He spoke in a strained voice in between thrusts.

“Shut up,” You snapped at him. You were happy. And it did nothing but further enrage you to see he was unaware of how miserable you were now without him. Or maybe he was aware because he reached that spot that always made your legs uncontrollably quiver and focused all his energy on it as if he was trying to make up for everything.

“I love you,” He blurted out as he felt you clenching around his length, his hips stuttering for a second before the sigh that left your lips made him lift your leg further up his torso and slam into you with renewed fire, “God, (Y/N) I love you so much, I can’t do this anymore,”

“Shut up,” You sobbed, this time as a plead and not an order. Your heart fluttered as you heard the words you’d waited months to hear, and feeling him roughly stroke your walls at this new angle became too much for you to bear. A string of ‘shut ups’ and sounds that resembled his name left your lips as your hands fell to his stomach, trying to push him away while paradoxically needing him to be closer, needing to feel more of him just in case this was the last time you felt him stretch you out in a way you were hauntingly certain nobody else would ever come close to.

And he wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to pull your head against his chest and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to get on his knees and spend the rest of the night apologizing using his words or his tongue, whatever you wanted as long as you went home with him that night. He wanted you to live a happy, normal life. He couldn’t give you that anymore. Not after that night. Not after the accident.

But those bad thoughts melted away in his brain when he saw your eyes pressed shut, your beautiful, furrowed eyebrows arching over them perfectly as you chased that high that Miguel knew only he could give you. Something that sounded like an actual sentence left your lips so quietly that he had to lean closer to get it.

“What was that, bonita?”

You pressed your lips together, unwilling to repeat yourself until another perfectly calculated thrust pried the half-coherent words out of your mouth.

“Need you…inside. Please, Miguel, please,”

Hearing his name being called out like that for the first time in months was all he needed to come undone, his pace faltering as he pressed himself against you, strong arms gripping your waist as he spilled his load inside you with one last labored moan.

Nothing but extenuated pants could be heard inside the bathroom for a whole, tense minute before you finally moved, taking a few sheets of paper from the dispenser next to the sinks to clean yourself up.

“What are you doing?” He asked as you straightened your dress and tried to somehow fix your disheveled hair.

“You wanted to apologize, you did, and I forgive you,” You categorically answered, “But don’t expect me to come running back into your arms as if what you did was nothing,”

Still, you needed him to know there was hope left for the both of you. So you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then his cheek, granting yourself one moment of vulnerability as you looked into his eyes with a gentle smile.

“I love you too,” You whispered, giving in to the urge to kiss him again. You basked in his shocked look before turning your back to him and going back to the party, where you bumped into Liz less than five minutes later.

“There you are! Where the hell were you? You missed the countdown!”

It wasn’t until you looked around at the confetti-filled floor and the large numbers on a screen that you remembered.

“I went to the bathroom,” You replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and reaching out to take a glass of champagne from one of the several trays atop the tables, “Where did your friend run off to?”

“David?” Liz asked, a deep red blush spreading over her cheeks, “He had to go home. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re getting dinner next Friday,”

“Don’t mind at all,” You replied with a bright smile, eyes already scanning the half-empty club, once again looking for that same face. The one you knew you’d always look for in a crowd for the rest of your life. This time, thanks to the small number of people left, it wasn’t hard to come across his eyes. Amused, you raised your glass at him with a soft, genuine laugh. He did his best to look annoyed, but the minute you tilted your head and gave him your best apologetic look, Miguel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a reluctant smile that made you laugh again before taking a sip of that cheap champagne.

This was going to be a great year.

#miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfic

570 notes · View notes

planefood · 1 year

Text

I’ll probably reformat this once I have access to my laptop but:

Super big character introductory post (that I worked super hard on!!!) id love if you’d take the time to read this and interact :)

Without further or do

Tandy:

The title protagonist of the story. Almost everything happens through his point of view and is often skewed by his own personal beliefs and perspective. Living most of his life exclusively around humans he’s still getting used to being around other robots.

Tandy works as a freelance computer repairman and helps robots fix up some of their issues on the side as well, like an off market robot doctor. He takes his work incredibly seriously to the point it affects his social life.

Although he is described as generally likeable by others for the most part, he’s quite clever and has a strong “take no bullshit” attitude towards everything. But he’s incredibly insecure about himself as well as being quite egotistical which can often come out and hurt others. He has a very black and white perspective of the world that affects how other characters will be perceived sometimes.

Max:

The first robot Tandy gets to meet when Tandy catches Max in a small robot get together when Tandy moves cities. Max was impressed by Tandy’s knowledge around computers and Tandy was totally absorbed by Max’s infectious personality.

Max comes across as very carefree and charming. He doesn’t talk a whole lot but when he does it comes out in oddly poetic short sentences, sometimes to the humour of the people around him. Max also tends to take the time to look after people around him and in turn he’s very idolised by the people close to him. But the time Max spends on other people and despite so many people adoring him, Max doesn’t take the time to look after his own personal issues leading Max to blow up at people if he gets too stressed. Despite all the people he tries to surround himself in he finds himself feeling incredibly alone.

Mikey:

Mikey had a pretty rough early life, which has caused him to be very self isolated. He struggles with extreme anxiety which just isolates him further, he can never seem to click with people, even other robots. A lot of people view him as unpleasant to be around. He’s self-deprecating and makes uncomfortable jokes about his own bad mental health, often taking it to extremes that would kill any conversation he was in. Jokes he makes that aren’t putting himself down don’t ever seem to land either. He doesn’t take good care of himself either which leads to him smelling not the best.

In reality he just needs a lot of support and space to heal. He’s working with what he has and is trying his best. Max wants to support Mikey and cares about him a lot but gets ferociously overprotective sometimes which can put more strain on Mikey’s chance to form his own relationships.

Sierra:

Built and raised in New South Wales, Australia. Looking for more opportunities she found herself moving to New Zealand with her other robot coworker, Newton, working for a tax firm. This is where she eventually met Tandy who was hired to fix an issue with one of her computers.

Sierra was growing ever more resentful of her human adversaries, she was starting to admit she hated all humans (and most animals by proxy) all she had by her side was Newton who she wasn’t particularly fond of by this point either. Tandy felt like a breath of fresh air and an opportunity for Sierra to stop having to interact with humans as much and kinda followed him around ever since.

Sierra comes across as very snobbish. She’s judgemental and easy to irritate. She’s quick to speak out about her hatred of certain things (like humans, children and by extension dogs) which upsets people around her. She speaks with a flat affect that makes her sound even more robotic than she’s meant to, which can make her constantly sound sarcastic and mean even if unintentionally. Unlike a lot of robots, her and Max do not get along at all.

Jay:

While looking for more robot friendly apartments, Jay was directed by her close friend, Phillip to Tandy. From then on they became roommates. Unfortunately Tandy and Jay didn’t get along at all. Jay is furiously headstrong and brutally honest to a fault even if they have the best intentions in mind. Tandy being quite egotistical and struggling to take criticism even at the best of times, Jay's brutal honesty can come across to him as personal attacks. Jay and Tandy mix like oil and water and every conversation they try to have usually ends in an argument. Much to Tandy’s dismay, Max and Jay get along great.

Lithium:

Tandy may have trouble getting along with some people but Lithium is the only person Tandy could wholeheartedly say he truly dislikes. Lithium, not unlike Tandy, is incredibly self absorbed. Lithium has a large sense of grandeur. They love to make others feel as though they’re not as socially conscious and intelligent as they are. Lithium also has a very short temper and will quickly snap and yell at people around him to give him a heightened sense of importance. People would be ‘simply lost without him!’ in his mind. Tandy struggles to understand why Max chose to befriend him. Though he’d never admit it, Lithium and Tandy have a lot more in common than Tandy would like to hope.

Sonnet:

The smallest robot Tandy has ever met, yet she commands so much respect from those around her. Sonnet has a very bubbly personality and seems to break into a little dance as often as she can because she's so full of energy. But Tandy learnt Sonnet can be serious when she needs to be and everyone listens to her when she wants to be heard. To everyone's shock she and Lithium hit it off romantically. One would assume the size similarities would make it easier for something like that to happen, but for someone so likeable to fall for someone like Lithium had everyone scratching their heads. Maybe it might do Lithium some good.

Phillip:

Max’s long term roommate and the one who keeps everything in order. Phillip is a reserved and well organised robot who Tandy barely ever catches an opportunity to speak to. Almost always working or stuffed up in his room practising his music. Phillip considers himself best friends with Max and Jay. But understands they probably don’t feel the same way about him. Phillip often gets quite upset at the notion that people don’t seem to care about him compared to other people, he always feels like the “friend of a friend”. He feels underappreciated in the work he does mediating others and keeping a roof over their heads by working multiple jobs. He wishes deep down he could build up the courage to tell everyone how he feels.

Phillip is always eager to duet with the other musically talented robot, Jay, when he gets the chance as well.

Newton:

Newton and Sierra were both built in Australia for the same company, for the same purpose. But unlike Sierra, Newton loved all the work he did and was incredibly loyal and devoted to anything he sets his heart out to.

But his heart was also devoted to Sierra, he’s head over heels obsessed with her to this day and has been for decades. Sierra was the only other robot Newton knew and when Sierra told him her plans to move to New Zealand he wasted no time in dropping everything to move with her. He felt betrayed when Sierra started paying more and more attention to another robot, Tandy. He grew incredibly jealous of Tandy as well as harbouring a deep hatred for him. Newton has heightened emotions which would typically mean he was very happy go lucky, but Tandy flipped a switch in him for the worse. Newton now vows to do anything in his power to win Sierra back from Tandy. Tandy on the other hand, is barely even aware of Newton's existence outside of what Sierra has said about him and the short conversations they’ve had.

Vicki:

Vicki was built in Cape Town, South Africa with a strong passion for teaching. She studied to be an English teacher, working extremely hard to be the best teacher she could. But what Vicki had in determination she lacked in backbone. She had a very thin skin and struggled to keep her emotions under check when working with particularly difficult students. Her tendency to get easily upset in high stress situations relegated her to the role of “easy to bully substitute teacher”. Vicki, feeling trapped, decided to move to New Zealand for a fresh start in a country she felt would be more mellow. Unfortunately for her, middle schoolers are terrible to deal with no matter where you are. She knows other robots through local robot support groups and lavishes every chance she gets to talk to fellow robots.

Scorpion:

Scorpion is a bit of a lonewolf, she has a short patience with people whether they’re robot or human and prefers to be left by herself. But she attracts a lot of attention from other robots because she’s perceived as being “really cool”. Two robots, Jay and Vicki, fight for her attention constantly, much to Scorpion’s chagrin. She’d much rather socialise on her own terms and hers alone.

Scorpion is one of the only robots whose talents lie in art and painting. Graffiti tagging is her preferred art form. Sometimes she’ll be commissioned to paint murals around the place but otherwise just picks up odd jobs around the place and keeps to herself. She’s quite the mysterious figure to Tandy. Darwin:

Darwin was built in Tokyo, Japan, before shortly moving to New Zealand. They were intrigued by the opportunities available to them as a robot in the country compared to Japan. Darwin’s main goal in its life was to help other people. The first and most obvious answer to them was to take up studying medicine. Darwin studied to the best of their ability and eventually got a job as a nurse in Auckland Hospital. Darwin's dream was to become a surgeon, but there was still a lot of doubt from humans on a robot doing their surgery. Darwin, instead, was encouraged to work with people with infectious diseases as a nurse. Going into nursing around the pandemic having a nurse that was immune to human diseases was the perfect fit. Darwin now finds itself overworked and stressed. Darwin barely has time to interact with anyone let alone other robots. But on occasion will have robots coming into ER where Darwin is first to point them where to go.

Florence:

A tall, neon coloured, full blooded American robot. Florence is the only robot so far who actively dislikes the company of other robots. She much prefers to view herself as a human and interact exclusively with humans. She has a short patience for her robot peers and low sympathy for any struggles they might face. She’s seen hanging around a human named Randy near constantly. Aside from her physical attributes, her thick accent and attitude really makes her stand out against other robots as is. She’s got a lot of charisma one will admit. She’s quite cunning if not sleazy. Tandy isn’t sure why she acts the way she does and wonders what might’ve caused it. Cathy:

Like Mikey, Cathy had a tough life leading up to where she is now. Growing up in the outskirts of a city in the other regions before moving to Auckland. She has an extreme phobia of humans that causes her severe anxiety and paranoia. She’s jumpy and skittish in the company of any human but very calm and intelligent in the presence of robots. She’s the founder of the local robot group that a lot of the characters met each other in. Tandy doesn’t know much about her as she rarely speaks about her personal life.

#objectum #art #robots #ocs #objecthead #oc art

646 notes · View notes

impactedfates · 7 months

Note

hola mijo 💓puedes hacer the tall males as dads? like for example welt, blade, jing yuan, luocha, dan heng i wish i could argenti to this list 🥰 but he not out yet so hottie okay gracias 🐾☝

★ A/N: Hola!! Yes I can :)) We all love a father figure right?

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial

★ Format: HeadCannons (Separate)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Just HCs of the HSR men as dads, you can view yourself as their child or as their lover // I only did the characters that you've stated in the request excluding Argenti // Not proofread

Welt as a dad is a 10/10. He would be so supportive no matter what you'd want to be. He has his own child back in his actual universe after all and takes care of him so well.

He's the type to proudly show those messy drawings his kid makes to his friends and act like his kid is the next Pablo Pacasso even if all they drew was a stick figure.

He also wants you to try new things but he won't force you if you truly don't want too, all in all. Welts such a sweet and supportive dad <33

Blade as a father? Now I wouldn't say he's the worst but he's not the best either. Biological or not, if he was tasked to take care of a kid, he will. He may not understand much about how to be a good father he manages to keep them fed, clothes ect. And with the help of the other Stellaron Hunters they're taken care of well

Except when it comes to affection. He'll try his best but his job makes it hard for him to really be home and hang out with his kid, not to mention he still has that want to die. He's emotionally unavailable most of the time. He's trying his best but he won't be much good if someone were to want to vent to him (Sorry!)

He can also sound harsh in some of his words and the kid may not get the message he's trying to convey! He may say something he sees as positive but his tone and what not makes it seem harsh.

Overall? 7.5/10 as a father

Jing Yuan I think is also a great father! Though like Blade, his job does make him unavailable most of the time. Especially since he's a General.

BUT, we both know this man would drop anything if his kid were to message/call or anything of the source of they were in trouble. Even if it was to just make a complaint about the babysitter he hired to take care of his kid.

He does everything he should to ensure his kid is loved and taken care of, and sure he may not have as much time as he'd like to spend time with his kid, he tries his best.

As a father, I'd give him a 9.5/10.

I'm unsure what Luochas thoughts on about taking care of kids in all honesty. As a doctor himself, he is aware of the cycle of life but whether or not he wishes to be apart of helping the kid grow up is unknown.

I don't think he'd have any adopted kids or something like that, however if he were to get someone pregnant he wouldn't leave them. He was a factor in how the baby was made and if the other person wishes to give birth to said kid then he'll help.

He's not a distant father per say, maybe strict but he doesn't mean to come out as harsh. He does everything a father should do and encourages his kid to study and all. He's not the most amazing father to have, honestly his kids probably prefer their other parent over him (Unless they left him and he became a single father)

All in all, while he may not be the best father he's not the worst and probably is just your average dad. 8/10

I love Dan Heng so much if you didn't know (I say as if my tumblr theme isn't Dan Heng) and this isn't even a bias but I do think he'd be a good father.

He's so worried he won't be but he really is. He remembers everything his kid likes and dislikes and applies it when he's cooking or buying something in general. He won't force his kid to do anything they don't want and will help them study.

He'd be proud of his kids, even if their grades are bad. To him, as long as they tried that's all he cares about. He may struggle with showing his care towards them, however it's easy to see he's trying.

If I had to choose out of all the male cast who I think would be the best dad? Probably Welt. I mean from what I know he already has the experience with kids and now he's taking care of 3 more (4 if you wanna count Pom Pom)...but also it's funny to call him Grandpa instead-

337 notes · View notes

1-ker0sene-1 · 4 months

Note

❤️❤️ah, I didn't want to dump requests into your inbox in case it came off as "cater more to ME" but if you do take requests.. I've been struggling with serious fatigue and migraines lately (Dr and I have no idea what's causing it) so I've had a hard time dragging myself out of bed and taking care of myself. Which of the cod boys do you think would find ways to help? I think Simon would be gentle but absolute in his caretaking. I bet he would hold me upright in the shower, whereas Gaz would share a bubble bath and order takeout :')

{I hope you get some answers soon anon! And don't be worried about sending requests! I love getting them ♥️}

Personally, I think each of the 141 would have similar yet subtly different approaches.

Price

John is a worrier. Always has been. The man exudes stress when it comes to the ones he loves, especially when they're in pain. He'll bundle you up in some blankets, carry you to the couch and turn down the lights. Letting you rest comfortably.

Without taking his eyes off you, he's probably in the kitchen talking to your doctor on the phone. He wants to know how to help you, not having answers frustrates him.

The rest of the time is about you. He'll get you some migraine medication. He's definitely making you eat a lot of fruit because he read somewhere it helps with headaches. He doesn't want to toss you around, just trying to keep you comfortable.

He also will not tolerate if you feel guilty about being so exhausted.

"You just don't feel good love.. don't you worry about a thing. Just let me take care of you. It's what you deserve."

Gaz

Kyle, dear Lord, will take such good care of you. Like it's second nature. From the moment you wake up, you're held close in his arms. As soon as you stir in pain he'll ask what's going on, pressing kisses to your skin.

You're gonna be pampered the entire day. The room is only lit by some candles, he'll carry you from bed to a warm bath. Stripping down and joining you as well. You won't have to lift a finger, not that he'll let you anyways- definitely not an excuse to wash and play with your hair.

He'll wave you off anytime you say that you feel like you're burdening him.

"You know I like takin' care of you anyways"

He might leave to go get you medicine real quick, probably sits in the tea aisle as well- trying to find something that helps with migraines.

Soap

Johnny, the sweet bastard, kinda takes this to have a lazy day with you. If anyone, he's the one ordering take out with you. Arms wrapped around your waist, kissing on your stomach and snuggling into you.

"my poor wee lass.."

Cooing and doting after you. You aren't getting up even if you want to. He's pulling you right back in bed, whining to not over exert yourself.

"You tell me what you need hen."

And you somewhat have to, he doesn't really know exactly what to do. But he'll do anything you ask of him. Get your medication, get you some water, practically spoon feeds you. Opens the windows to get you some fresh air. If you're cold, well he's right there to warm you up.

Ghost

Simon is more of a watch dog. At your side constantly. If you want up and around, he won't stop you. But the moment you look too exhausted, or wince from your migraine? You're getting scooped up and taken back to bed. He just wants what's best for you.

Anon is right about the shower. He'll hold you up against him, lips pressed to your forehead. Supporting you against his body, mumbling sweet words into your skin as he washes you up. Swaying the both of you slightly together with a deep rumbling hum.

"I'm right here doll.. I'm not leaving ya.."

He mutters. Simon can sometimes be a hard ass, even in your relationship. But when you're hurting like this? He can't have a mean bone in his body. Every little thing you do, you're getting so much praise for it. He knows how tired you are, you're doing so well.

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #141 x reader

186 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

Do you think Riddle is so short because of what his mom made him eat ?

Like only making him get the perfect amount of calories like in his overblot backstory

Maybe it is because his mom is also short? Anyways she doesn't seem tall, also where is his dad.

***PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT speaking as a dietician or a doctor; the information and interpretations presented here are based my own scientific knowledge and research, and apply ONLY to the analysis of a fictional character. This post is NOT meant to be taken as any sort of medical or dietary advice.*** Personally, I'm not of the belief that Riddle is short due to his controlled dietary intake. In very simple terms, calories can be thought of as the fuel you burn to get through activities. While a caloric deficit can contribute to stunting of growth, I don't think this applies to Riddle since he lives a relatively sedentary lifestyle (sitting and studying) and is provided an adequate amount of calories per meal. I want to take a quick moment to dispel the commonly held belief that Mrs. Rosehearts underfeeds Riddle. This seems to sprout from a misinterpretation of a line in 1-25 when she is serving Riddle a birthday meal. Here, she states the exact amount that Riddle must have in order to not overshoot 600 kilocalories. This is led some fans to think that Mrs. Rosehearts restricts Riddle to 600 kilocalories a day, which is just not true. From the dialogue, it is clear that Riddle is granted 600 kilocalories per meal. Assuming 3 meals a day, that means 1800 kilocalories per day, which is very close to the recommended 1745 kilocalories for the average 8-year old boy (not accounting for fluctuations from individual child to individual child). This is a perfectly normal intake, but is appears strange at first glance because very few parents actively calorie count what their child eats to this extent.

Back to the original topic, nutrient intake also contributes to height. (Think of nutrients as the building blocks to a building called your body, and the calories as workers or the 'energy' that assembles the building/your body.) However, that doesn't mean that I think Riddle didn't get enough nutrients; it is possible to have low calorie meals which are nutritious. (For example, athletes may have to follow specialized diets in order to attune their bodies to whatever sport or activity they do. Similarly, Vil crafts a diet for the VDC/SDC squad in book 5 which cuts out junk food, is overall lower in calories, and still provides the group with the energy they need for practice.) Mrs. Rosehearts has dialogue where she describes the nutritional content of the meals she has prepared, which seem to be tailored for brain function. I'm going to assume that those meals also adequately provided for Riddle's other nutritional needs. I don't have reason to believe Mrs. Rosehearts, a doctor and mother who is detail-oriented and hellbent on her child's success, would knowingly and intentionally sabotage his health.

It’s canon that maintaining physical wellbeing makes for a good mage (which is why NRC makes its students take P.E.). Additionally, eating well is said to be one way a mage can make a recovery from blot accumulation. If Riddle were eating poorly and/or was of poor health, that would only mean struggles with concentration and his magic suffering the consequences—and that’s very much counterintuitive to the success that Mrs. Rosehearts envisions for her son.

You don’t need an abundance of calories or nutrients for growth and development. The excess will get stored as adipose tissue/fat or (depending on the nutrient) exit the body as waste. It’s important for a child to be fed well in order to grow properly, but generally if they aren’t malnourished (ie getting less than what they need) then they wouldn’t be stunted.

By in large, genetics is the major deciding factor in height. I believe current studies suggest as much as 60-80% of one's height is predetermined by DNA sequences (although those DNA sequences can be altered by the environment and outside other factors). It could very well be that Riddle is just short because his ancestors had the "short" gene. Looking back at manga images of Riddle's mom from the manga, she doesn't seem that short to me. Even when Mrs. Clover is bowing her head to her, both moms appear to be about the same height (if Mrs. Clover were standing). Maybe Mrs. Clover is a little taller (it's hard to say just staring at the image), but not by a lot. If I had to guess, they seem to be about average height for women. That doesn't mean anything in terms of genetics though, you could be any height and still carry the "short" gene to pass onto your children (the shortness trait just isn't always expressed outwardly.)

If I had to guess, I’d say Riddle is just “naturally” short or drew a bad lot in terms of genetics (since his height seems to be a sore spot for him). He’s about that age where most men will stop growing too (although some do grow well into their late teens and even early twenties).

Regarding Mr. Rosehearts, we haven't seen him yet but he's definitely mentioned a few times! He is said to be a medical mage like his wife and is implied to not have a happy marriage with her (according to Riddle). That's about all we know of him now. Some parental figures just get less focus than the other, and that’s the case for Mr. Rosehearts as well as many others (Mrs. Trappola, Mr. Spade, Mrs. Asim, etc.).

It’s possible that the short gene came from Mr. Rosehearts, but we don’t know for sure since we’ve never gotten so much as a silhouette for him. Again though, he could be tall or average but have an unexpressed short gene. I believe many fans headcanon him as short though, as the King of Hearts in the source material is smaller and meeker than his wifez

#twst #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst manga #twisted wonderland manga #episode of heartslabyul #episode of heartslabyul manga #spoilers #question #notes from the writing raven #Vil Schoenheit

156 notes · View notes