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#wanted to draw what a sensory overload feels like to me
rieldraws · 2 years
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They got their weapon
And I got cheated out of my childhood
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drdemonprince · 1 year
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I think I may be autistic but I have no idea what to do with this information and I'm also kind of worried im trying to make myself fit into it if that makes sense? I have been diagnosed with ADHD officially, but I'm not sure, maybe I have both?
"Am I Autistic or Not" isn't really a helpful question. It's so big, and so abstract. Try asking yourself questions that are smaller and more concrete. Things like:
Which sensations are really difficult for me to handle? Do I experience sensory overloads? What can I do to reduce or prevent future sensory overloads?
Which sensations are really pleasurable for me? How can I incorporate more of those sensations into my life?
What activities or topics do I find very stimulating, thought-provoking, or exciting? How can I make more time in my life for pursuing those activities? Where can I meet other people who also enjoy those things?
Which aspects of socializing do I find hard? What do I find draining, uncomfortable, or confusing? Is there anyone I can ask for help understanding the things I find confusing? Are there social performances I can try doing less often, or less intensely?
Which activities seem to drain me more than other people, and how can I get the rest I need? Do I need far more recharge time after socializing than most people I know? Do organizational or administrative tasks like cleaning my house or answering emails take a lot of out me? Is there anyone I can ask for support, or any responsibilities I can let go of (or half ass)?
Finally, where do I feel at home? Which spaces make me feel comfortable? Which communities seem to get me? Who do I enjoy being around? Who brings out a playful, lighter, opener side of me? Where do I hate being and who do I dread being around? What do I need out of my home environment in order to feel at peace? How can I bring more of the positive into my life and reduce my contact with the negative?
Are you Autistic, Anon? -- my answer is, who cares? It doesn't matter. You don't ever have to answer that if you don't want to. Use whatever term you want, whenever it feels right. In the meantime, find the spaces, experiences, and people that help you feel less broken. That might include Autistic spaces, as well as other neurodivergent or queer ones. That's fine. Explore widely. Each one of us is a complex enough person that we can't be contained entirely by a single community, identity label, or space.
Private questions of identity matter very little if we aren't actually living out that identity in community with other people. Find the spaces, people, and activities that are good for you -- and if many of them are also very good for Autistic people, well then congrats, you're our kin, whether your choose to adopt the label or not.
Further reading:
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cowardnthief · 2 years
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10 actual ADHD study tips
from a student with ADHD
(or if you just have trouble concentrating)
1. put your phone in different room.
no, really. there can be any number of excuses not to (i use it as an alarm/timer, what if there's an emergency, but i use it during breaks) but i guarantee that you will focus better without the ability to check your social media. if you're genuinely worried about missing a phone call, don't put it on silent, and leave it across the room so you can hear it, but make sure it's out of reach.
2. invest in some noise-cancelling or muffling headphones.
they're a life-saver. i use them to help with sensory overloads, but now i wear them pretty much every time i study. regular headphones with some kind of neutral backing noise also work pretty well.
3. don't listen to music.
maybe somewhere, somehow, there exists a person who can actually listen to music and focus, but i've never met one. my adhd means i get distracted by anything. i'm a good multitasker, but not when the task requires lots of thought, like my science or math homework, or that english essay i've been putting off. if science is distracting for you as well, put on a neutral background noise (no, not lo-fi hiphop beats - unless that works for you). i usually put rain sounds or white or brown noise (the latter is my favourite).
4. break big tasks into small chunks.
you've probably heard this one before, but adhd makes tackling big tasks seem really daunting. like, where do you even start? before beginning a massive project, make a list of every little thing you need to do. it might seem stupid or excessive, but i can't stress how much it helps. it also gives you a sense of accomplishment whenever you knock a task off the list.
5. if you know you're gonna procrastinate, try and do it productively.
this one is one i'm still getting used to. i realised, after hours of sitting at my desk, not wanting to start on my essay but not wanting to actively NOT write my essay, and just generally feeling like shit, that it would have been better to spend those hours doing that thing i wanted to do (learn that song on my guitar, finally finish the painting sitting on my desk, write the poem that i had scribbled in my notebook a week ago). if you know you're not going to get started on your work, you might as well do something else that isn't as pressing but you still need to get done. it's okay not to be 100% productive al the time.
6. have a clear workspace.
this is a big one. i found that having a lot of stuff on or around my desk just makes me feel fenced in. i like to have 1 lamp, 1 cup of pens/pencils/highlighters, a cup of tea, tissues, and whatever i'm working on. when you're done with a task, PUT IT AWAY ASAP. that way, it doesn't build up, and you can feel ready to start on the next thing.
6.5. eliminate distractions.
i feel like this relates to the point above, but don't have lots of visible posters/lights/tempting tasks. maybe close your blinds or your door, or study in a library instead of your room if it is too bright and colourful.
7. the pomodoro method (organising your breaks).
LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS. the pomodoro method involves working for a consistent slot of time (usually 25 minutes, but whatever works for you) and then having a short break (5-10 minutes), and then a long break every 2-5 "slots" (15-20 minutes). if you don't trust yourself to stick to a timer, get a cute app on your laptop - there are heaps of different themes, and it will help you organise your time and tasks. instead of thinking about a task like "it will take me 2 hours", think about it like "it will take me 4 slots of time", and it will be much less daunting.
(note: for your breaks, try not to reach for your phone/social media. this is a rabbit hole. maybe draw for a minute, or read a few pages of a book. do something you can easily and quickly put away.)
8. organise yourself, but try not to hyperfixate on it.
apps like notion can be really helpful when organising tasks/your workspace, but they can also suck hours of your time away if you're not careful. not everything has to be perfect/meticulously planned, and you're not working on your homework by planning your weekly schedule. speaking from experience, it's really easy to get caught up in something that may feel productive, but really isn't.
9. this is really niche, but... for my reading-glasses wearers:
WEAR THEM WHEN YOU STUDY. i'm very mildly farsighted, which means wearing glasses when i read for long periods of time helps me prevent headaches. technically, i can go without them, and for a few years i usually did, but i've noticed that wearing them when i study has the benefit of getting me in the right headspace, and also stops me from looking up or around my room too often, as the prescription makes me dizzy when looking at things far away.
10. just get started.
i know you hate hearing this, but usually, knocking one or two things off your list can help you get motivated. often, things that seem really difficult or time consuming aren't as bad once you've gotten started.
good luck!
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icy-spicy · 11 months
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They Were Roommates
Suguru x Satoru x Reader
Warning : Oh My Gawd they were roommates. SPICY!
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They may have been the best people you knew, but they could be horrid bastards when they wanted. Why did you let Satoru see your phone for a YouTube video? Of course, he looked at your search history. You could feel the heat spread over your features as 18+ ASMR was the first thing he saw. Those piercing blue eyes and the devious smirk were enough to let you know you fucked up.
That was one week ago. If Satoru knew, then so did Suguru. It would explain the random times he would moan into your ear while behind you, the taunting bastards.
The obscene moans and groans of their names coming from their shared room shot straight to your center as you lay in bed. The walls were thin, and they were even louder than usual. Staring at the ceiling, you clutched your sheets at the sound of their headboard slamming into the wall causing your bed to shake. Satoru moaning Suguru's name in absolute bliss was the last straw for you. Thighs clenched, you would not give in to the urges that threatened to scorch your entire body.
The ache between your thighs and the shortness of breath that rocked you was soul-rattling. Opting for a late-night snack, you slide from your lonely bed into the kitchen. Their antics continued as you sat on the island counter to enjoy a popsicle while scrolling on your phone. Quiet footsteps caught your attention as your roommates entered with matching pajama bottoms as their only clutch on decency. Satoru was his playful self as he stepped between your legs and licked the end of the frozen treat that dangled from your lips.
“Get your own, jackass!”
Your back straightened as his massive hands firmly gripped your exposed thighs.
“Sharing is caring,” he said before his chilled lips crashed against your neck.
“Satoru!!! What are you doing?” 
“Shhh. It's alright,” he cooed while nibbling on your ear and tossing your treat into the trash, “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“Suguru?” you whined with a questioning tone.
 Satoru lifted you from the island and placed you on your feet. Gazing up at him, he wore that same damn smirk he had a week ago. You craned your neck as he moved to stand behind you. With little effort, he sat in the spot you previously occupied. Strong hands rest on your waist, drawing your attention to the long-haired man before you now. Suguru's energy was heavier than that of his partner. Your squeak of surprise brought a genuine smile to his face as he lifted you to sit on Satoru's lap. Caged between the two, you were at a loss for what you should do.
So many nights spent fantasizing about them, and now they are ready to devour you. Satoru's hands slowly snake over your abdomen to caress your breasts, while Suguru's fell directly to your panties. You grab his dark strands for leverage as you struggle to hold on to some of your sanity.
“He said you would enjoy hearing us,” Suguru explained while applying pressure against your center, “I guess he was right.”
Arching in their hold, you moaned at Suguru's touch and almost combusted as Satoru worked your nipples to stiff peaks. It felt like they were smothering you, and you could not have been happier with such an end.
“He thinks you want to join us,” Satoru explained with a nip to your shoulder, “Which of us is right?”
“Both of you.”
They were everywhere and nowhere all at once. So much, yet not enough. Tears fill your eyes as your body tenses. Sensory overload was setting in. The smell of them and how they felt was all too much. Surely you would pass out before the party began if they didn't do something soon.
“You're greedy. I like that,” Suguru grinned before ripping the fabric that separated your heat from his hand.
You didn't have time to think before his tongue slipped between your folds. The rumble of laughter in Satoru's chest keeps you attached to this newly unfolding reality.
“Don't be selfish,” Satoru chided his partner, “I wanna taste her too.”
Suguru wouldn't keep his lover waiting for such a request; he stood with glistening lips and leaned over you to kiss Satoru's. Four hands roamed your body with urgency as their tongues collided.
“My God,” you exhale.
“No,” Suguru grins, "Just us.”
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crowborn666-writes · 1 year
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hi anon here! i was wondering if u could do a platonic aizawa x student reader? basically reader gets really overwhelmed (sensory wise) at the feeling of clothes on their skin sometimes and it happens one day when they’re in their dorm and they just dunno how to cope with it so they end up accidentally sh relapsing cuz they just need to get their frustration out. aizawa ends up finding out about it and confronts them about it one day after class. gender neutral reader btw. this is oddly specific LMFAOO sorry bruh it’s totally cool if u cant do it! <3 (bonus points if reader is autistic)
Sense
(Sensory overload? Autistic? Sounds like me already lol. I’m more familiar with noise and lighting sensory overload than fabric, so hope it’s ok I stuck those in here as well!)
Aizawa x Student!Reader
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Platonic
Summary: Too much leads you to a relapse, your teacher finds out and wishes to help.
TW/CW: mentions of accidental self harm, mentions of blood/bleeding, sensory overload caused by touch, light, and sound,
(If I missed any, pls lmk!)
~~~~~~
Breakfast was slightly rowdy as usual, Bakugo griping about how Denki and Shoto shouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen as he fixes the mess they made. Iida running around handing everyone plates, Kirishima giving everyone a warm good morning with Mina.
You’d no less than sat down in your usual spot when Iida came whizzing by with your usual breakfast, you toss a quick thanks over your shoulder, beginning to eat.
Minutes went by, you quietly eating when the noise seemed to get louder. A glance up made you wince, the lights seeming brighter. Your clothes then began to itch.
You bit your lip, glancing around at everyone’s smiling faces, perhaps if you found something to distract yourself with, you could ignore it.
You focused on your food, trying to focus on the nice taste when someone’s voice went a level higher. Your hand reached for your sleeve, beginning to scratch at the skin just underneath.
The voices only got louder, the light brighter, your clothes scratchier. Louder, brighter, scratchier. Louder, brighter, scratchier. Louderbrighterscratchie–
Breakfast was over, Iida coming by to scoop up your empty plate, most everyone heading to the common room to watch TV together. You changed your usual course, instead of going to the common room with everyone you moved past it, off towards your dorm room. Panicked breaths left you, feet a near blur across the carpet.
The dark quiet of your room was welcomed, but you found yourself clawing off the offending, itchy fabric on your skin.
You lose yourself for a moment, coming back to find your teeth sunken into your flesh and your nails digging angry red lines across your forearm. Small dots of blood bubbled to the surface from the injuries. A small, quiet cry leaves you as the pain registers, both from the injury and from your mind. You’d been doing well…
You shake away those thoughts, taking a shaky breath before moving to your bathroom to clean up.
Faint teeth marks, scratches, nails dug into your palms. You cleaned them all and bandaged the ones needed. You were thankful for the long sleeves on your uniforms, as well as the usually comfortable baggy clothing you wore.
You picked your safest outfit to wear, drawing the curtains slightly to limit the amount of light in your room.
Deep breath. In and out.
You’d be okay. A bit of time here to calm is what you need.
School was a wreck, people were being loud and seemingly more annoying with their antics than usual.
And worst of all, your uniform was starting to itch.
A shaky breath, the urge to scratch and bite and pick and—
You shook your head a little, shaking away those thoughts.
You didn’t bother staying in the lunch room, not wanting to throw yourself into another sensory overload.
A gentle hand brushed your arm as you moved through the hallway, and you turn to see Aizawa-sensei there.
“You don’t look so good, (L/n). Do you want to eat lunch in the classroom?”
You almost wanted to cry tears of relief. You nodded, following behind him to the classroom with your lunch.
“Sensory overload getting to you?” Aizawa piped up, glancing your way. “Iida said you didn’t look so well yesterday morning.”
“Yeah..” you murmured, your wrists trying to urge you to scratch them. “It got bad yesterday.”
“You’re free to talk about it if you want.” He replied, flipping all but one set of lights off as you both entered the classroom.
“…I relapsed…” you breathed, avoiding his gaze.
“May I see the damage?” He asked, setting his paperwork down and taking the seat next to you as you sat down.
You nodded, sure your teacher didn’t miss the way you tried to avoid your sleeve touching your skin as you tugged it back, showing the scabbed over scratches.
“The fabric of my clothes gets itchy, and it’s hard not to scratch sometimes.”
Aizawa nodded quietly, taking your hand gently to assess the damage. “I’ll see if Nezu can get in a change of fabrics for your uniform. The damage here isn’t too bad.”
“I know… but I hadn’t in a long time and—“
“It’s not about how long it’s been, in the end, it’s about if you choose to keep fighting.”
Aizawa let go of your hand, sitting back. “Eat some food, you’ve got hero class next, and you’ll need the nutrition.”
“Thank you, Aizawa-sensei.” You replied as he stood, scooping up his paperwork as he moved to his desk.
“If it gets bad again, you’re free to come in here to relax.”
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entomolog-t · 5 months
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Bite Me - Chapter 9
Aedes deals with his 5 senses while June cleans her room.
Some last minute changes made this update brutal- but we made it.
I also incorporated a promptober prompt!! Sunrise
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 8
Next Chapter: Chapter 10
Word count: 1816
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, depiction of sensory overload/Panic
June Murphy blinks- the act in and of itself far more effort than it should be. Her eyes dry and sore from crying- eyelids heavier than should be physically possible, as if some invisible weight hung off them. Face raw from a tear stricken night, she stares at her wall, watching as the first light of day creeps into her room. Even her thoughts feel heavy as she stares blankly ahead. 
Had she slept? She wasn’t really sure. It certainly didn’t feel like she had- though… it certainly didn’t feel like she’d been awake either. 
Her joints groan in protest as she stands, neck stiff from the awkward position she’d held while slumped beside her bed. June tries in vain to rub the tiredness from her eyes, but all she manages to do is to further irritate the rawness of her tear stained face. 
June chews her lip- Memories of the night still fresh in her mind. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel him in her palm- the way he twitched and squirmed under her touch. The thoughts felt dirty now with the context of hindsight. He’d been terrified, and she… she had liked it. Her hands claw through her tangled mess of hair. What the fuck was wrong with her? Who likes that? Why would she ever like that? He was so small, and had been so terrified, how could she- 
June pauses. 
She had been sure it was real, but now as daylight crept around her room so did doubt creep into her mind. It was all so absurd. A tiny vampire sneaking into her house? It had to have been a dream right? She just had the strangest nightmare imaginable. That was it. Maybe it had been a bit more lucid than her typical dreams. That wasn’t that weird right? It was just abnormally lucid and..  and she just thought she’d been awake.
June swallows the dryness in her mouth- not keen on thinking about what the contents of such a bizarre and emotionally charged dream must say about her psyche. 
Her movement is stiff and tired as she drags herself to the washroom, desperately washing her face with cool water, as if temperature could somehow shock her back to fully believing in some version of reality. June winces. The sight of herself in the mirror should have come with a warning. She looked rough. Painfully red eyes stare back at her behind swollen lids- Her skin sallow and dull - looking  just as exhausted as she felt. 
As her eyes scam her reflection, her breath catches. 
Two impossibly small punctures on her neck - nearly imperceptible, if not for the slight redness and bruised halo around them. 
She watches her reflection as her lips draw into a tight line. 
It… it had happened. It had all really happened. 
The reality of the situation felt heavy- oddly enough, it was not the absurdity of the situation, but the implication that the emotions had all been real. The realization that she had gotten off on some twisted sort of psychological torment on a man she had known for what? All of twenty minutes??
June chews her lip, thoughts of his wide eyed expression filling her mind- those hushed pleas uttered between sobs. Her throat tightens. 
You’re fucking vile
The echo of his words in her mind seem to tie her stomach in knots. She was, wasn’t she? She was fucking sick to have wanted … that.
God, what was she thinking? She didn’t even know him? Hell, he wasn’t even human. His existence didn’t even seem real- yet the desire that he incited was all too real- and all too potent.  
A quiet part of her resents him. The way he’d played along- how he seemed to untangle some deeply knotted part of her- how he let her loose only to choke her with the slack. How could he make her feel that way, only to rip it away from beneath her. 
June frowned at the way her logic twisted in her mind. 
He’d been splayed out in her palm- restrained by her hand… so why did she feel like she’d been struck at her most vulnerable?
June groans. Her mind far too exhausted to try and decipher the reasons behind weird hypocritical thoughts. There was a heavy weight that seemed to reside in her chest, an impending sense of dread that loomed within her. Aedes was gone. 
Aedes was gone because of her.
Because she was sick. 
There was nothing left- no way to apologize, no way to make it right... Nothing to do except sit here and fester in her shame. She hated that it wasn’t just guilt gnawing at the edges of her mind. She was still so curious- and she resented it. 
The same curiosity that cornered him- that had led to all of this. 
And yet… she couldn’t rid herself of her nature. 
Her mind begged for answers- Why was he so small? How could vampires exist? Who else knew? Could he turn into a bat? Did they congregate in … flocks? Colonies? 
June flops to her bed- desperately wishing for the sleep that evaded her, but the soft morning light and whirring thoughts in her head make dozing off an impossible feat. 
There was nothing she could do. 
The finality of it was sickening. No apology, no reconciliation, no answers. All she was left with were questions and shame. 
June sits up. If there was nothing she could do, she might as well make herself busy. Busy hands make for a quiet mind, or something like that. 
----
Aedes leg shakes - irritation plain on his face. 
She hadn’t slept. 
She hadn’t slept one fucking minute. 
An uneasiness crept over him as the room slowly became lit with the light of day. The dark of the night offered discretion- plentiful security within its shadows. The day however, was a different beast entirely. 
The woman idles around her room, picking up various discarded items off the floor. He grimaced as she removed more and more of the potential cover leading toward the window. There was no way he’d be able to sneak off unnoticed in broad daylight. 
Aedes felt the all too familiar ache of bloodlust rising in his chest. He hadn’t drank nearly enough. With nothing to occupy his hunger other than his thoughts, a familiar clarity rolled over him as his senses sharpened, instinct trying to direct him to the meal he was all too aware of. 
Aedes swallows- mouth wet. 
The beat of her heart pounds on steadily. 
Thud after thud.
Continuous. 
Just for one second he needed silence. A moment to think- to gather his thoughts. He bounced his leg, a steady tension mounting within him. Fuck. Each beat seemed to stop his thoughts in their track- drawing his focus away from any meaningful planning and back to her. The steady thrum of her heart a sirens song, begging him to forgo hiding. Beckoning him to dive into her. To drown in her. No. The last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near her again. He’d been hungry before- he could go hungry again.
Aedes grit his teeth. 
Thump.
He would wait this out. 
Thump.
Come nightfall he would leave. 
Thump.
He would absolutely leave- 
Thump.
He just needed to- 
Thump.
To figure a way out- 
Thump.
To get to the window- 
Thump.
To feed- 
His claws dug into his scalp- his hands desperate to hold himself together as her pulse throbbed in his ears. Loud. Everything was too loud. The steady rumble of her feet on the floor grates at his nerves. She meandered around the room, never staying still for more than a moment or two before moving on to another spot. Every thundering step sends a jolt through him- The world buzzing around him. 
Why couldn’t she just fucking stand still?
He took a breath, his inhale shaky, and unfortunately deep. He caught her scent hanging thick in the air, her very essence an overwhelming caress. Like velvet, her scent thick and warm, teasing his desire- whispering promises of indulgence. She smells of sweet cream and soft spice- her skin of milk and honey. Of cardamom and comfort, of passionate glances and carnal desires. 
Carnivorous desires. 
He remembers how she tasted on his tongue, the allure of her scent paling in comparison to her taste. She was ambrosia on his lips and transcendent on his tongue. She tasted of life-  of potential and passion- she tasted of more. 
God he wanted more. 
Needed more. 
Aedes gnashed his teeth. He felt the world around him consuming him. Picking him apart- biting into him. His breaths came quickly- air feeling numb on his lips. Never enough. Never enough air. Never enough of her. The sound around him was chaos. Her blood seemed to roar in his ears. Her heels thundering on wood. Wood that trembled beneath him. It shook- he shook. 
He shouldn’t be here. 
Every breath was sugared with her. Drowning in her. His stomach twists- hunger gnawing away at his rationality. At his resolve. Her overwhelming presence devouring him from the inside. Mouth open he gasps- though not for air- for her. His mouth drips with desperation. Longing. Need. Aedes bites into the flesh of his hand- his teeth breaking the skin as easily as wading through water. The tang of his blood foul in his mouth. Wrong. Grotesque. An insult to the memory of her on his tongue. His jaw clenches- twitching against his will. 
He bit harder. His face slick with blood and drool. 
He needed to stop this. 
To think- 
To breathe. 
He needed blood. 
Her heart beat in tandem with his own. Calling him- begging him. Each pulse was a promise- of air. Of quiet. Of life. 
A siren's song. A sweet harmony crying out between each and every pulse.
He froze.
A voice- both stunning and haunting cut through his senses. All else seems to fade- the rush of her blood, the beating of her heart, even his own desperate thoughts became white noise in the presence of her voice. Silken and opalescent- it carried air to his lungs on its warbling melody.
It beckoned him, yet nothing like the beating of her heart. This compulsion was all his own, not some ancient instinct clawing its way through his consciousness. 
Head ducked, Aedes half crawled half walked to the edge of his cover under the dresser. 
She sang of crumbling, of breaking down- stolen kisses and stolen glances.
I fall to pieces
Each time I see you again
His breath caught in his throat.
She was …. Beautiful.
Incredible in her immensity-  Her entirety more akin to a landscape than a body- her beauty that of a sunset. 
Warm. 
Vast. 
Untouchable. 
He stood in the light of her song, feeling as though he was blinded by a second sun. 
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beelsnack · 6 months
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Back in the Saddle - Obey Me! Boys and an MC Who is Overcoming a Depressive Episode
Hyper-specific coping mechanisms? On my blog? It's more likely than you think.
(Just kidding that's like the whole reason I started the blog in the first place lol)
I'll be honest, I'm not caught up on the games at all. I got like 2 chapters into Nightbringer before the rhythm games gave me sensory overload. But they're still my emotional support demons and I'm still going to write about them on my silly little blog. Enjoy!
May make a part 2 with the other characters, this one was getting kind of long.
-----
Lucifer: The music room had always been one of the few places that Lucifer could seek solace from the chaos that seemed to follow him. Most of his brothers had no desire to practice an instrument, and those who did tended to want to do it on their own, so if he was there, they tended to avoid the area. He had come to expect the room to be empty when he arrived there.
So seeing the human hunched over the grand piano threw him off a bit.
He knew they played the piano - it had been in their paperwork when they first came to the Devildom. They played quite frequently before, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of the ivory keys when the strangeness of their new home got to be too much. But something in recent months stopped them, and he didn’t have the faintest idea what. They hadn’t been very forthcoming about their mental state, and Lucifer didn’t want to pry. 
Well, actually, he did want to pry, but each time he asked, they got more and more irritated and withdrawn from him, and that stung just as much as not being able to help.
They were making considerably more mistakes than they had before, likely due to a lack of practice, but Lucifer could see a bit of their old spark returning to their eyes as muscle memory took over. They were playing an ost from a human world show, something slow and soothing that they played often. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Lucifer thought he could see the beginnings of a smile on their face.
Before he quite knew what he was doing, he had silently made his way over to them. His shadow fell over the keys, and they jumped in shock. They whipped around so fast he was worried that they would twist something. “Lucifer?!”
“Don’t stop on my account, my dear,” he smiled gently at them, perching himself on the bench next to them. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard you play, won’t you indulge me a little?”
Mammon: It was just a little doodle.
Borrowing the human's notes was a pretty common occurrence for Mammon. If he even remembered to take notes, they were sparse at best and incomprehensible at worst. He had just wanted to take a picture of them at first but the human insisted he write them himself. 
"We don't need to make it too easy for Lucifer to tell you don't pay attention," had been there reasoning, but Mammon wasn't going to turn down some alone time with them. Even if it was in the library.
When the human had presented their notebook to him, his eyes had immediately gone to the little drawing in the corner. It wasn't very detailed, more like random scribbles that eventually morphed into a flower and some stars. When they had first come to the Devildom, their notebooks had been absolutely filled with doodles and drawings, ranging from rudimentary shapes and shading to full-on sketches in the margins. They claimed it helped them focus, so Mammon had been a little concerned when the drawings had dwindled to nothing.
"What are you smiling at?"
Mammon jumped, heat creeping up his neck as he realized he had been caught. "Nothin'!"
He glanced back at the drawings, wishing he had his shades to hide behind. "...I missed the doodles, is all."
Leviathan: Right.
Left.
…Alright, the coast was clear. Sighing softly in relief, Levi emerged fully from his room and made his way downstairs. Most of the residents went their separate ways after dinner, and he knew for a fact Beel had his Fangol game so the kitchen should be free.
Levi stuck his hand in his pants pocket to make sure the folded square of paper was still there. One of his favorite Deviltubers are done a video recreating various dishes from different anime, but Levi just had to try them as well. But any sort of attempt at baking was doomed to fail if Beelzebub was in the house, so as much as Levi had wanted to jump right in as soon as he had seen the video, this excursion needed careful planning.
He was feeling rather hopeful until he got to the kitchen and saw the light on.
Defeated, he was about to turn around and head back into his inner sanctum to await his next opportunity before he realized that the shadow moving along the wall was far too small to be Beel.
Quietly, carefully, he poked his head around the corner and peered into the kitchen. There, in an old t-shirt with an apron tied around their waist, was the human scooping flour out of a bag.
Either he made some sort of noise or they just felt his presence. They turned around, looking startled for a moment before regaining their composure and grinning sheepishly at him. “Hey, Levi, what’s up?”
Levi blinked owlishly at them for a second. “Uh, well…”
The human’s baked goods had quickly become treasure in the House of Lamentation when they first arrived for the exchange program. It had been their passion, but something happened somewhere to tamp out the gleeful little spark they had whenever they were trying out a new recipe. But, like a storm passing, that light was beginning to peek through the dark clouds.
“Levi?” they asked, cocking their head at him like a confused puppy. “You alright?”
“I-I’m fine!” Levi had to physically shake himself out of his train of thought. “You-you’re baking something?”
“Mm-hm,” they hummed, turning back to the counter to glance at the recipe on their phone. “I was really in the mood for some chocolate cake.”
Chocolate cake wasn’t one of the recipes on his list, but seeing them passionate about something again made him forget about his whole mission. “Do you…want some help?”
Satan: Someone was humming.
Satan had thought he was alone in RAD’s library. Very rarely did students venture here at this hour, and his brothers were causing suck a ruckus back at the house that he hadn’t been able to focus on his book even shut within his room. And now someone was being annoying here.
His already short fuse was slowly but surely reaching the end, and he slammed his book shut with a bit more force than necessary. He would get his quiet time or there would be blood.
The perpetrator was somewhere in the fiction section, it sounded like, and Satan rounded the corner of the shelves like a predator sniffing out its prey. Finally, after a few moments of following the sound, he caught sight of another person. He stopped at the beginning of the aisle, mouth already open in a snarl to scold whoever had the balls to - 
“Oh, Satan, hi!”
He deflated like someone had poked a hole in him. Of all of the people he thought he would encounter, the human had been very low on the list. Recently, they barely left their room except to go to class or eat. Usually if he wanted to spend time with them he had to gently coax them out into the open like one would entice a cat with treats.
Satan cleared his throat. “Well, this is unexpected.”
The human had their arms full of books. Quite the assortment, too. A thriller, a book about previous kings on the Devildom, what appeared to be some sort of romance manga and an autobiography of a well-known witch.
“I ran out of things to read,” they shrugged, looking away. “Went through everything I had at least twice.”
“You know,” Satan walked over and took two of the books out of their arms - they always got irritated when he took everything, like a stubborn kitten, so letting them hold on to something would preserve their dignity. “You can always come to me if you want recommendations.”
Asmodeus: “Hey, Asmo?”
There were only a few people who were brave and/or stupid enough to go into Asmo’s room without knocking. Not because he would be angry or anything, but one never knew what kind of salacious activities would be going on in there and it was better for all involved if there was some warning before opening the door to Asmo’s den of debauchery.
“Hello, darling!” Asmo chirped, beckoning the human inside. They were lucky, he had just gotten out of the bath and was in the middle of his skin care routine. “What’s up?”
“Do you have anything for eye bags?” they asked, poking idly at the puffy skin beneath their eyes. It was clear that their mental health hadn’t been in top condition lately, their stress written in the dullness of their skin and drawn across the acne that dotted their face. But Asmo knew better than anyone that pointing out someone’s physical flaws did nothing for self-esteem, so he hadn’t said anything.
“Of course!” he grinned, scooting over a bit to give them some room on his vanity stool. “Skin care is self-care, darling, glad to see you treating yourself.”
The human sat down next to him, and now that they were closer Asmo could tell just how drained they were. They sat with their shoulders slumped, and they had an air of exhaustion about them.
“Oh, dear, haven’t you been sleeping well?” he asked, reaching over to pick up a small tub of cream. “Sleep is extremely important, you know. I’m a hot mess without my beauty sleep.”
“Really?” they quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Emphasis on hot,” he giggled, dabbing his fingertip into the cream. “Now, hold still for me, darling, wouldn’t want to poke your eyes out~”
Beelzebub: Beel had grown to like the quietness of the gym in the morning.
He was one of the few demons who had the diligence to work out every morning, and the ones who did make it a daily habit tended to leave each other alone to work on their own things. Everyone knew each other there, to the point where they each had their own spot where they left their stuff and there was an unspoken rule that nobody touched anyone else’s belongings.
It was also an unspoken rule that anyone who tried would get eaten by Beelzebub but he tried not to think too hard about that one. He still felt kind of guilty about it.
Muscle memory took him over to the bench by the weights where he usually set his things down, and he was in the process of sliding his gym bag off of his shoulder when he realized that there was another bag there that he didn’t immediately recognize. He stared at it for a moment, trying to see if he could figure out who the owner was until he got close enough to smell it.
Usually gym-bag-smell wasn’t something he would actively seek out, let alone find enticing, but he would recognize that scent anywhere. It was the human’s.
Sure enough, when he turned around, there they were, stretching in front of the weight bench. It had been…Beel didn’t even know how long it had been since he had seen them in the gym. They used to go quite frequently. Not enough to call themself a gym rat, but they kept up with their fitness pretty well. Until they didn’t.
Beel hadn’t wanted to pry, but he had been worried about them when they stopped working out. He could tell they were suffering physically from it as well - whatever had stopped them from exercising had also stopped them from taking care of their body in general, and he could tell by the weakness in their arms and the dragging of their feet that they weren’t at the top of their game.
He called out their name as he approached them. “You’re here.”
They jumped, eyes wild before they realized who was talking to them, and they shot him a sheepish grin. “Oh, hey, Beel.”
“You haven’t worked out in a while,” Beel stated matter-of-factly before smiling warmly at them. “It’s good to see you here again.”
“Ah, yeah,” they mumbled, looking away. “Kind of…lost my momentum for a bit, I guess. But!” they perked up. “I’m back at it!”
“Good. That’s good.” Beel dropped his bag next to theirs on the bench. “Want me to spot you?”
Belphegor: He was trying to stay awake this time, honest.
Belphie didn’t exactly have the best track record for showing up to class, much less managing to remain conscious for it. Lucifer had been nagging him lately about his attendance, but he was always nagging him about something. No, the real winner of the annoying yet effective big brother olympics was Mammon, who had looked Belphie dead in the eye and said “I bet you couldn’t show up to class for a whole week if you tried.”
And Belphegor was nothing if not a stubborn asshole.
Although, the dare was about going to class, not staying awake, so technically he could snag a nap and Mammon couldn’t say any - 
Belphie’s eyelids snapped open - he hadn’t even realized he had closed them - when something small and bright blue landed on the desk in front of him. It took a moment for him to refocus, but when he did he noticed that a small folded paper star had bounced in front of him.
He raised an eyebrow before turning to look at the human, who was sitting a few seats away from him looking too innocent for them not to be the culprit.
“Can I help you?” he muttered.
“Wakey-wakey, Belphie,” they grinned back at him. They had surrounded themself with a myriad of different-colored paper stars, something Belphie hadn’t seen them do in quite a long time. They had claimed that keeping their hands busy helped them focus during class, and even outside of class they were usually doing some sort of origami project. But at some point, they had stopped. Maybe someone had pointed it out to them, maybe something happened to make them depressed, he didn’t know. But he had kind of missed seeing their little army of paper animals.
“Can you make a fox?”
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magicxc · 11 days
Text
Safe Word Ignored
Pairings: Survey Corps x Reader
Word Count: 2606
Warnings: DUB CON, NON CON
A/N: As the name suggests this excerpt will be non con so do proceed with caution or not at all.
For a softer, consensual version of this, check out my aot x safe word headcannon. 
Safe word - sparrow
Eren  - Eren strikes me as rather dismissive. He’s not necessarily nasty about it, but he’s also not too interested in opposing views, especially when he feels this good.
Face buried into your supple skin, Eren rocked his hips repeatedly into your warm walls, melting with each stroke he delivered. You smelled so soft and powdery - his favorite scent on you actually. He could stay like that forever, inhaling your hypnotic fragrance while your pussy squeezed him just right.
Your long nails slid down his back incessantly, stiletto shaped nails no doubt drawing blood from his tender skin. Eren was no stranger to scratches on his back, in fact he welcomed them, the marks an ego boost and a great addition to his battle scars. But these scratches signaled something else entirely, something a lot less elated.
Your strangled moans are music to his ears. But the record scratch comes in the form of the safe word, just barely audible enough for him to hear.
“Huh?”
“Sparrow.”
“Sparrow? Oh honey, no! Just hold out a little while longer for me, yeah?”
Face cradled into his fingertips, Eren swept away at your wet cheeks, pushing forward until he had reached his peak.
Do you really need the safe word? he thought to himself. It’s me. Safe words are meant for strangers or friends with benefits, testing the waters of what feels best. There’s no need for that in a committed relationship. Your partner should know exactly which buttons to press to get yours ticking and by the convulsing of your body, it’s safe to say that Eren’s found yours; yet again. 
“Honey, I know what you want before you can even think it,” he boasted.
Why would he give you what you want when what he wants makes you both feel great?
Levi - Levi’s blunt can sometimes double as your mean. While you're used to his word choice, it feels very different to be on the receiving end of them. 
Sweaty bodies molded into one, you couldn't tell where yours started and Levi ended. Your skin had begun to stick to the sheets and droplets of sweat gathered in dots littered around your forehead. Head sinking into the pillows, you couldn’t find the strength to raise it up if you wanted to, sad attempts to connect your lips to Levi’s long gone. Though the feeling was great, it had slowly started to take its toll, your body unable to keep up with Levi’s stamina.
“Sparrow,” is the safeword that so wearily tumbles from your lips, exhausted beyond comprehension.
“Really?” Levi questions. “I didn’t peg you for such a weak brat”
The sentence stings and you find yourself too tired to retort, tears kissing the back of your eyelids at Levi’s harsh words. While you were ready to tap out, you supposed offering your body was the least you could do in support of humanity’s strongest soldier - opting instead to lie there until he was finished; hoping that sleep would find you soon after.
Erwin - Erwin isn’t much for the long talking, therefore radio silence is all you get from him.
Thighs clamping his face firmly between your legs didn’t quite give you the reprieve you were looking for; Erwins thick muscle relentless against your clit. He works his tongue to perfection, your pussy dripping its praises in the form of soaked sheets. But it’s not enough for Erwin, its never enough for him. Ever the achiever, it takes more than shaky legs to get him to ease up, your vision darkening on multiple occasions at the sensory overload.
Teeth scraping against tender lips, you’re hesitant to mutter the safe word, but the next rush of fluids has you screaming it before you can stop.
“SPARROW, UHNNNN SPARROW. FUCK!”
Tongue reattached to your pussy, you just about passed out at the discomfort; what once felt so heavenly now feels borderline sinister. Twist and turn as you might, Erwins heavy hands pressed firmly against your thighs to hold you still, intent on eating to his heart's content.
Black dots dance around your vision, relief filling you to the brim. It doesn’t take long for the next wave to hit, knocking you unconscious as you welcome the darkness with open arms.
Connie - Connie hates the idea of you using the safe word but he hates the idea of stopping even more; so he’ll pacify you with soft words of encouragement until he’s finished. 
In the heated moment of roleplay you found yourself bent over Connie’s knee, a stinging sensation left behind after each slap to your ass. Hands clamped over your lips at first stifled light giggles, excited at the persona Connie had picked up - now they stifled your groans of discomfort, eagerly waiting for your 'punishment' to be finished.
thawck
Oh that seemed to do it. The final slap to your ass had tears sliding down your cheeks quicker than you could stop them, your feet shuffling about the floor to get a good balance. But Connie’s arm tightened around your waist, another crackling smack booming throughout the room without missing a beat.
“Not you running," Connie chided. “Bad girls don’t get to avoid punishment.”
“M’sorry Con, but it’s just too much."
thawk
“Sparrow,” you squeaked, lips quivering from the tingling ache.
“Awww buttercup,” he condescendingly cooed, rubbing soft circles on your butt. “You talked all that big talk earlier and now you’re calling it quits? C’mon just five more minutes, can you at least give me that?”
Hesitantly, you nod your head, lips tucked carefully between your teeth as you stared at him through wet lashes.
The eery grin that he sends your way is indication enough that his five more minutes will last anything but; and it did. For how long you couldn’t tell, but you’d definitely be sore as hell in the days to come.
Jean - Jean can get gaslighty for sure. It's to the point where you begin to question using the safe word in the first place. 
The moisture that gathered between your thighs was the cherry on top of the pride that swelled within you for making Jean feel so good. His breathy moans, his heaving chest, his fluttering eyelids - it gave you such a dynamic feeling. And apparently it did the same to Jean, his high so good he intended to chase it.
Hands buried in your hair, he used it to guide your plump lips to the very bottom of his shaft, the spongy feeling of your throat he once described as ethereal. Jean was a big boi and by all means required some prep; prep you weren’t entirely done with.
So the unexpected intrusion hits your esophagus in all the wrong ways, the feeling pushing your gag reflexes past its limit. The gurgling of your words and the spit that eases you down his dick no doubt makes for a delightful experience only it has you feeling the opposite. 
Fists tightly balled, you use them to beat against his legs, hitting just hard enough to catch his attention.
“Talk to me my love, what’s the problem?” he asked, hands still bobbing your head, only a little less vigorously.
Enough time goes by to where you realise he’s not letting up, so instead you try your best to mumble out the words around his dick.
“Sp- sparr- ow,” is the best you can manage under the circumstances.
And as muffled as it came out, there’s no doubt that Jean heard you, disappointment clear in the lengthy breath he blows past his lips. You’re sure he’s annoyed, but what's the point of the safe word if you can’t use it?!
“You do love me, don't you?” he asks in between bobs. “You are mine are you not?”
Fingers gathering your hair into a ponytail he pulled it back, just enough that the head of his dick rested on the tip of your tongue, steely eyes glaring into your soft ones.
“Uhh huh,” is your mumbled response.
“Then why would you put me in such a predicament? I’m so close already my love, couldn’t you stay put a little while longer?
Wide doe eyes meet his, trepidation keeping you from uttering the word once more; his shaft wasting no time in making a home at the very back of your mouth.
It doesn’t take long for Jean to loudly sing his praises, his boisterous moans dripping from his lips the same way his precum drips down your throat.
“There ya go. Good fucking girl,” he commends. “Besides, girlfriends can't say no.”
Onyankopon - Ony can come off snarky and sarcastic to mask his irritation.
Sex with Ony typically felt hot and sexy. The pure lust and raging desire usually made for a good time. It felt like a movie scene where the couple was so eager to be with one another that it got messy - missed kisses, sloppy hair, wet lovebites, tangled limbs. 
You tended to be in lights, camera, action heaven but today felt unusual. Understandably prep was a must when it came to Ony and you hadn't have much of that in the heat of the moment. It wasn't until he was fully seated inside of you that you’d realise the wetness at the center of your core simply wasn't enough.
His thick fingers delve into the softness of your flesh, dragging your hips up and down to a fierce rhythm. Eyes clamped shut you bounced until the feeling had become too much; too intense to ignore. 
“Sparrow,” is what you breathlessly pant through thrusts. 
“The fact that youre not my wife bothers me at least once a day,” he confessed. “But how can you be when you pull shit like this. 
“Ony I-“
“Do you really want me to stop?” he taunts between languid thrusts. 
Ony had slowed down considerably from the overwhelming force that he once delivered to your pussy, reaching up to swirl his tongue around the lobe of your ear. It soon lands on the sweet spot beneath it as his thumb rubs figure eights on your clit.  
“Is that what you want mamas? Hmm?”
Intellect had long since left you and now all your body could focus on was the mind numbing sensation. No matter how good it felt, a break was still in order but Ony wasn’t in the mood to be convinced. 
Reaching up to the shell of your ear, his lips ghosts against the tip whispering, “yeah, that’s what I thought. The ‘a’ in my name stands for always right; now gone ahead and come for me.”
Reiner - Reiner can't think of a way to justify his lust over your comfort so he’ll opt for tuning you out, physically if he has to. 
The squelching of your pussy made it clear that Reiner was putting in work. Your body would happily create the moisture it needed if meant that he could drive into you at the angle that made your eyes cross over. While you normally didn’t mind helping Reiner with a little stress relief, today he'd made you feel low.
Physically you felt euphoric, but mentally you felt degraded. You felt cheap; almost like someone he threw money at to remedy his frustrations. He’d treated your body so recklessly it brought tears to your eyes; scared to blink at the off chance that you wouldn’t be able stop them from flowing. So you settled for the safe word instead. 
“Sparrow,” you whispered. 
Face scrunching in confusion, it was the first emotion that you were able to clock aside from the blank stare he previously offered you. His thrusts never waivered and you briefly wondered if he had heard you. Lips parting to utter the word once more, Reiner planted his hand over your mouth, grunting out his disapproval.
Shock stiffened you to a standstill, feeling only the way that his hips drove into yours. You lied there, taking every thrust and listening to every moan. Reiner continued to touch you in all the ways that brought you pleasure, and when you finally found yourself tipping over there edge, there he hovered; a twisted smile curled onto his lips.
Armin - Armin is distraught, but somehow not enough to comply. He’ll apologise profoundly while still inside you. 
Armin loved having sex with you. The feeling was immense, but it was the actions that brought him the greatest satisfaction of all, like how you would wildly writhe beneath his body when you were almost to the finish line. He enjoyed seeing you reach out for him when you wanted to feel close, moan his name after he'd made you so cock drunk that it was all you could muster up the strength to repeat, cum around his dick over and over again, sink your nails deep into the flesh of his skin - Armin looked forward to it all.
Hands tugging on the clamps attached to your nipples, he admired how sexy they looked. Swollen enough to seep through the clamps, it took everything in him not to dive down and add to the excitement, his thoughts racing with ideas on how to make you feel even better. Thrilled at the possibility that your lust would trickle down at the base his dick, he just about came right then and there.
But the enjoyment wouldn’t come this time around as the clamps added a layer of pain that felt far from blissful. If anything they hurt, and combined with the tugging you figured it best to cut the night short.
“Sparrow,” is what slips from the confines of your throat.
Ashamed is the emotion that you make out across Armins features, but not for the use of the safe word, rather it seems to be in response for his lack of concern.
"Ohh sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he repeatedly murmured.
Forehead pressed into your cheek, his tears mixed with yours as he rode himself to completion, apologies never ceasing even as he went flaccid inside you.
He could scream his regrets until he was blue in the face, but it meant very little when his body found pleasure at the expense of yours; especially considering that he wouldn't hesitate to do it again.
Floch - Floch will outright blame you for feeling so good. Shame has no place in his house nor heart.
Floch was an ass man through and through. He loved claiming you in the forbidden hole. And you’d gladly comply; giving your heart and your body in service of him. It was one of those things where his pleasure intensified yours. 
The grunts and growls, moaning and howling - you were always a soaking mess long before he could make you cum. However, this time felt a little different. You couldn’t place it exactly but you just weren’t feeling sex at the moment. You’d held out for as long as you could, hoping that maybe you needed to be warmed up a little more, that maybe Floch just needed to lay into you just right; but, nothing. 
“Sparrow.”
“No can do sugar,” he scolded from above you. “You see I’m just getting started and I ain’t letting up until I’m done.”
You wanted to be shocked, to be disappointed, but unfortunately you weren’t the least bit surprised. Floch had this determination about him to see things through to the bitter end, even when all the odds were stacked high against him; even now when you strongly opposed his selfish desires.
But he somehow always managed to get what he wanted. And there he stayed, buried to the hilt as he continued to thrust into you from behind, smugly whispering about how good you squeezed him, as he kissed along your heated skin.
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ssahopelessly · 8 months
Text
Quiet Storm
Tumblr media
Synopsis: With no warning signs, Reader is pushed into an emotional breakdown. Thankfully, Spencer knows how to weather the storm.
Warnings: SpencerxFemReader, established relationship, sensory overload, emotional breakdown, passive anger, suppressed emotions, potentially reckless driving, crying while driving, guilt of codependency // let me know any I missed!
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Mentally, I was already floundering. A few events of late had already made me irritable, but now with my senses shifting into overdrive, I could only see what was happening as it happened.
The last of my niceties were spent on the cashier who didn’t deserve to be caught in what was about to start. Just as we stepped back into the world outside, I felt it starting, but I hadn’t known what it would become. Fortunately though, the profiler I had elected to spent most of my time with seemed to pick up on it before I did. “Are you okay?” He asked during our walk back to the car.
“Probably not.” I wasn’t going to lie to him, but I thought he knew the answer to that question.
“Well,” he had started with his explanation, “I know- you seem mad, maybe agitated, but you’re quiet. It’s your quiet mad.” He made it sound so simple. But I knew I was mad, I just didn’t want to talk about it.
I climbed into the driver's seat as he took passenger and once my phone was connected and playing my music, I started to leave the parking lot, if not without making some choice moves in my exit.
If it weren’t for those, my acceleration onto the highway was enough to reach Spencer’s limit. “Pull over.” He started from the passenger seat, where he had turned his body against the door to better watch me.
“No.” I scoffed as we were then stopped at a red light. In the corner of my vision I could see where his brow had become pointed, a particular look of determination. As I held a staring contest with the light, I waited for his next words.
“Pull over the car.” He attempted one more time. We came to another red light and it was then I was ready to have this argument.
“Why?”
“Because you’re mad and your rage is coming out in your driving! You’re making reckless decisions and-”
“Of course I’m mad!” Was my final snap, my final straw. As the admission settled around us, I felt the weight relieving itself and with it, breaking the dam for my tears. My eyelids were warm then hot before the top of my cheekbones became wet. I let out a few sobs before I saw the light turn green and I realised I would need to start accelerating. If Spencer thought I shouldn’t drive while crying, he didn’t say it. Instead I saw how he opened his hand over the center console, his eyes pleading for me to take it. “I’m so mad.” I tried to explain through a broken sob as I placed my hand in his, seeking the warmth and comfort I knew would follow. We were good and consistent like that, he would anchor me before anything could sweep me away. I had elected to get in the middle and then right lane, still driving but with increased caution. “I’m just so mad - all of the time.” His thumb began drawing circles into the palm of my hand.
“I know.” Was all he offered and I didn’t fault him because he did know. His mind, the always observant and absorbent sponge, had known me long enough and watched me well enough that he was about the only person I would ever consider close enough to reading my mind.
Soon though, we found ourselves back in our driveway. The engine had been cut off, a steady pitter patter of rain on the windshield matched my remaining attempted cries, despite my tears having run dry several minutes ago. “What do I do?” His hand had never left mine and I couldn’t help but feel the guilt that moved in like the storm clouds above.
“Well first,” he had let go of my hand to start gathering his things from our errand running, “we get out of this car.” In his attempt to be the bright and bubbly energy we might’ve needed in the moment, he nearly slipped in his effort to get out of the car. It was a mad dash to the front door in the rain but I clung to the sounds of bubbling laughter that found a way to escape me as I realised how ridiculous we must’ve looked in that moment.
Once inside, we set everything down and put away what groceries we needed to. But as those bags got lighter, my guilt seemed to grow heavier, just until it was all I could think about. “Hey, I was thinking-” I turned to him, with tears I hadn’t felt in my eyes. It didn’t help that the words I wanted to say had been caught in my throat and never made it to my tongue. “Love?”
“I’m sorry.” I nearly collapsed under the weight of my guilt and another moment of cries and sobs, but he knew me so well. He would never let me fall that fast, his hand a guiding tether back to his chest before my knees could buckle under my guilt. An arm around my waist kept my body close to his as I clung to the fabric of his shirt, crying into his chest.
“Shhh.” Was his attempt at soothing me before I could hyperventilate myself. “It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry.” I cried into his shoulder as we stayed there, swaying like two deep rooted trees in the heaviest winds of a summer storm.
“It’s okay,” he said again, “I got you.” I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t okay. That of everything, I felt most guilty about how he always seemed ready to pick me up, that it was never something I could do on my own.
“It’s not fair.” I tried to get out, but I felt his hand working its way down my hair. He was still trying to soothe me through his gentle touch.
“You got me, I got you. Remember?” He hadn’t meant to, but the sentiment made me cry just a fragment more.
The last time those words were said, was the last time our roles had been reversed. It had been after a particularly difficult case and weeks of suppressed emotions. Tears from trauma had turned into consuming tears over his mom and while we sat there, clinging to one another on his couch, I had whispered those words to him.
And now here we were, in almost the same embrace, but it was my tears falling. My hand on the back of his arm as I kept my face nuzzled to his shoulder, his hands running over my hair and back as he tried to soothe me. Eventually my breathing even out and I was able to pull my head away to look at him. There was no expectancy in how he looked at me, the gentlest of smiles delicately on his lips, his eyes as soft and warm as one of his cardigans on a fall evening.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you?” His head pulled back from me, eyebrow quirked up to show his confusion.
“For taking care of me, for choosing me.” His thumb brushed the cheekbone under my eye. The muscles of my lips pulled into a smile as it tried to chase the warmth of his touch.
“I will always choose you.” The sentiment made me smile in contrast to all the other times I had ever felt like an afterthought or a second choice. “With every moment,” a kiss to my cheek, “with every breath,” a kiss to my temple, “every choice, every thought, comes back to you.”
“Surely some have to be for you.” Was my attempt to break through the seriousness and get him to laugh. Which worked. His arms tightened around me with his laugh, another kiss pressed into my hair. “I love you.” I admitted into our hold, feeling his breath near my ear.
“I love you more.”
I love you most, I had wanted to finish with but let him take the claim.
While I was sure there would be more storms and battles waiting for us, I took comfort in knowing there would always be someone at my side. That of everyone in the world, he would be at my side.
-
Thank you for reading!
116 notes · View notes
fiepige · 5 months
Text
Hobie Brown variant OC:
I finally decided to make Symbiote!Hobie (nicknamed SH by Hobie, which over time turned into Sage) his own thing, cause I've made so many changes to him that I've decided he's just gonna be another version of Hobie from another dimension.
I basically came up with him when thinking about what it would take for Hobie to truly bond with a symbiote and this is what I came up with.
While he's technically Hobie too I'm gonna refer to him as Sage in this post to avoid confusion <3
Gonna start with his appearance and then move on to his origins and how he got involved with the Spider-Society:
Disclaimer: I cannot draw so I haven't even attempted at drawing his face cause I know I'd never be able to draw him in a way I'd like- So I did the next best thing:
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(He has a normal face I just tried to find a way for me to draw him without drawing his face lol)
Pictured above is Sage and his symbiote K.A.T (and their symbiote form- yeah it's the same as Venom!Hobie cause I like the design lol)
He looks like Hobie but younger- he's around 11 when he's bitten by the spider and fused with K.A.T - he's around 12 when he gets introduced to the Spider-Society
He's got short hair as it was completely shaved off when he got caught by Oscorp - more about this under his origins - he wants to let it grow out after meeting Hobie and being inspired by his approach to his looks (he really looks up to Hobie but don't tell anyone I said that!)
His left iris is white as a result of the symbiote DNA being fused to him. He can make it match his right eye if he concentrates but only really bothers to do so if he feels it draws too much attention
After meeting Hobie he helps Sage get a few piercings of his own
He usually wears a hoodie and/or a mask to hide his face - he's super paranoid and does his best to hide himself from others
Never goes anywhere without his noice cancelling earmuffs - he's got enhanced senses due to his spider powers but they can be a bit of a nuisance since he's also sensitive to loud noises due to his symbiote...
He also usually wears sunglasses to shield himself from sensory overload as he was subjected to it a lot as part of the experiments he was put through at Oscorp - and thus getting his senses overstimulated can result in panic attacks, so he does what he can to avoid it + it hides his eyes as well
K.A.T (Killing Authority-opposing Targets) is Sage's symbiote
It usually stays hidden unless they're alone or around people they trust/already knows about its presence.
If it does show itself it'll usually stay on Sage's shoulder or sit in his lap, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways
The reason K.A.T takes this form is that Sage is a cat person and it used it as a method to make him like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Sage calm down and still does
K.A.T is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Sage doesn't mind but most other people get suprised when they first touch it
If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises - if it dislikes someone it'll hiss and arch its back at them
K.A.T is a more animalistic symbiote and mainly communicates with Sage by letting him feel its emotions instead of speaking to him
To avoid making the post even longer than it's already gonna be I'll link to this post where I go into more detail about the design of thier Symbiote form instead of describing it here too ^^'.
This was originally supposed to be a short summary but I've realised I'm incapable of making short posts when it comes to stuff like this:
Origin:
Sage is a younger version of Hobie Brown. (11 years old when bitten by the spider and fused with his symbiote)
Sage and K.A.T "met" at one of Oscorp's labs
He was living as a homeless kid (having escaped an abusive household a few months prior)
He was bitten by a radioactive spider while looking for a place to spend the night.
He got very sick from the bite and was easily captured by Oscorp goons looking for new test subjects in the streets
Despite his young age Sage is a more ruthless Hobie variant, in part due to his upbringing and due to his symbiote (and the trauma they both go through at the hands of Oscorp)
K.A.T was a new kind of experimental symbiote that was set to be terminated due to it killing all its previous hosts - Sage was their last attempt at fusing it with someone
They decide to fuse it with Sage as he was deemed indisposable due to him seeming more dead than alive - suffering from the venom of spider bite at the time - and thus it wouldn't be a problem if the symbiote killed him too
Since the spider bite was still changing his DNA as he got fused with K.A.T some of its DNA got fused with him as well as a "side effect" during the process
Due to this it's incredibly hard (if not impossible) to seperate the symbiote from Sage without severely hurting them both
His body develops organic web shooters when it fuses with K.A.T - the webs are black and can be shot from either of his 4 arms when in his symbiote form (they can also be shot regularly while in his human form)
Sage develops enhanced senses and a taste for human flesh after being fused with K.A.T - he also has enhanced senses from the spider bite - making it easy to overstimulate his senses and overwhelm him before he learns to get it more under control
Since Sage's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Sage's new powers)
The main scientist behind the experiments is this dimension's version of Peter Parker!
Sage eventually manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on his way out as possible - and eating some of them as well
As a result of their treatment at the lab + his past with his abusive foster family, both Sage and K.A.T have developed a deep distrust to other people - at this point they both consider the other their only friend
Sage goes back to living as a homeless kid, avoiding people as best as he can, but he's also got an insatiable taste for human flesh as well!
He will usually target anyone associated with Oscorp when he's hungry (if none are available cops are the next best thing- his dimension is just as corrupt as -138 Hobie's dimension)
He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)
Due to his senses being extra sensitive + his paranoia from his experiences at the lab and his foster homes, he tries to avoid crowded and noisy places - This all leads to him being more active at night while he usually tries to lay low and hide during the day.
He lived like this for months until a certain event changed that:
First encounter with the Spider-Society
Sage's dimension is blacklisted meaning people from the Spider-Society aren't allowed to go there (cause a spider-person who's embracing their symbiote instead of resisting it is deemed unsafe by Miguel and thus best to be avoided)
Sage does still get introduced to the spider-society albeit through a rather unconventional way:
- One day a portal opens up and pulls Sage through it, sending him to another dimension as an anomaly
Having no idea about what's going on, and being scared and confused about the whole situation, he does his best to lay low and avoid other people.
Because of this he spends a lot of time in the other dimension before the society discovers signs of an anormaly - glitched objects like seen when Kingpen uses the collider in itsv, or the museum that the Vulture appears in in atsv
Sage eventually has his first run in with other spider people when his hunger gets the best of him and he becomes more careless as he turns into his symbiote form to go look for prey
Here he encounters Gwen and Peter B as they're looking for the anomaly causing things to glitch out in the dimension
Not knowing he's a spider person and an actual child, Peter and Gwen attack him as they always do with anomalies - it also doesn't help that Sage doesn't exactly look friendly when in his symbiote form.
He fights back cause these masked people attacked him for no reason so they must be bad guys and of course he's gonna defend himself - it also doesn't help that he's starving and thus not thinking clearly at this point.
Unfortunately for him, these guys have high frequency equipment to deal with symbiotes and thus they manage to subdue him, but not before he manages to fight back, revealing his organic webbing which tips Gwen and Peter off to him having spider powers as well
He's subdued and forced into an electric cage (which brings back a lot of unpleasant memories from his time at Oscorp) and sent to the Spider-Society afterwards
When he arrives at the Society he quickly gets overstimulated and has a panic attack and lashes out in a desperate attempt at escaping his electric cage - also seeing the face of the scientist who tortured him for months everywhere certainly didn't help
Gwen then uses a high-frequency device made to combat symbiotes to force him to revert back to his human form
She immediately recognises him as a young version of -138 Hobie
Her and Peter both panic cause 1. They realise they basically beat up a kid and locked him up. 2. That kid has a symbiote! 3. That kid is a younger version of another spider-person they both know (and who they both know has a very long and strained history with symbiotes!)
Miguel gets involved and a discussion begins about whether they should try and seperate Hobie (Sage) and his symbiote
- The other spiders mean well by this but Sage and K.A.T both panic at the thought of being separated - at this point they really view the other as their only friend as it's been them against the world ever since they fused
Sage, still panicking, tries to protest but they won't listen as they view him as a kid who doesn't know what's best for him
Sage is taken to the room with all the villains while they discuss what to do with him
Here Margo sees Sage and K.A.T comforting each other, K.A.T manifesting physically in Sage's lap, being hugged tightly by Sage as he promises it he'll never let anyone separate them
Seeing this, Margo takes pity on them and 'accidentally' sends them home before the other spiders get a chance to try and remove K.A.T from Sage.
Relationships with other spider-people
Some time later Sage has an encounter with Hobie who found out about the whole mess - despite Miguel ordering Gwen and Peter not to tell him
While Hobie isn't exactly a fan of symbiotes he first and foremost sees Sage as a traumatised homeless kid in need of safety and stability
Hobie offers Sage to stay at his boat whenever he wants (as long as he promises not to eat anyone while he's there), he also gives him one of his bootleg watches so he can come and go as he pleases (and explains that he can also use it to get home to his own dimension if he's ever unwillingly sent to another dimension again)
Sage declines at first but over time he slowly opens up to Hobie and begins to trust him
(He also secretly looks up to Hobie once he trusts him, cause who doesn't? He's an older version of himself who's got a place to call his home, one that he opens up to strangers in need such as himself, he uses his powers for good and not just to survive. He's not afraid to be who he is and draw attention to himself - something Sage has been too afraid to do ever since his time at Oscorp. He's got friends and people he trusts. - all things that Sage wants too but doesn't believe he'll ever have) Also he'll never admit that he looks up to Hobie but he can tell anyways
Hobie's the one that gives Sage his nickname, it started as SH but over time it turned into Sage instead, though he doen't mind being called Hobie as well, it's just easier to go by Sage when both he and Hobie are present.
He still doesn't trust people, especially not the Spider-Society after their first meeting, which made it very awkward when Gwen showed up to visit Hobie while Sage was there - luckily Hobie managed to interfere before they beat each other up too much...
(He trusts Margo a bit as well since she 'saved' him from the Spider-Society - also it's nice to be around someone who doesn't smell like food since she's an avatar and not made of flesh and blood)
He currently lives at Hobie's boat, switching between it and his own dimension as he pleases
Hobie did his best to hide it but he was rather freaked out by K.A.T's presence in the beginning, he did his best to supress it cause he genuinely wants to help Sage
Hobie mentors him in how to use his Spider Powers and tries to give him a moral compass to at least prevent him from eating civilians when he gets too hungry - He usually targets cops or people working for Oscorp but the hungrier he gets the less picky he is
Another reason Hobie took him in is because he knows ostracising someone won't make them a better person and while Hobie doesn't believe in deciding what's best for others he still knows life will be a bit easier for Sage if he doesn't just kill whoever he wants whenever he wants - impulse control is important when you have a cannibalistic symbiote in your body.
- Hobie still dislikes symbiotes but he respects Sage's choice to keep his and does his best to help him control some of the more violent urges that come with a symbiote.
Hobie introduces Sage to his punk ideologies and slowly introduces him to the punk community
Hobie also introduces him to some of his friends but it's a slow process due to Sage having a hard time trusting people - especially spider-people after his Spider-Society encounter
Some of the spider-people also have a hard time opening up to him because of his symbiote
But Hobie's good at making a safe space for Sage to feel like he can slowly start to open up to others
For the first time in years Sage feels like he has someone (besides K.A.T) he can trust and over time he starts to view Hobie as his older brother
And that's that folks! (at least for now)
To the one person who actually bothered to read all of this - know that I'm infinitely grateful that you took your time to read about my boy <3
- I initially tried to keep this short but I gave up cause Sage has been living rent free in my head for weeks and it feels so nice to finally flesh him out and write about him!
You know I couldn't resist making my first oc angsty - but at least he ends up doing better than where he started.
Hopefully you guys like him too! If you have any questions please let me know, I could talk about him forever <3
#help I think I have a condition where I need to make all my new posts longer than the previous one!#can't believe I initially tried to make this post short and then it ends up being 2759 words long...#wasn't sure about his name but I wanted it to be something else than Hobie#so Sage it is!#Also I really wanted the symbiote to be called cat or kat - due to the form of its physical manifestation#so I had to come up with an abbreviation to make it fit lol#also evey time I've tagged a post Symbiote!Hobie this is who I've been thinking of!#I just didn't have a name for him back then#just to reiterate - Symbiote!Hobie and Venom!Hobie are two different people#their symbiote form looks the same but that's it#Venom!Hobie is -138 hobie with a symbiote but everything else about him is still hobie#Symbiote!Hobie is Sage who's another version of hobie from his own dimension#hope there aren't too many spelling errors but it's 1 am here and I've read through it once already so sorry if I missed something!#gonna post this and then go to bed lol#I'm addicted to that angst but I tried to give him a somewhat happy “ending”#though there's still a lot of room for improvement lol#also this is my fist oc which is very exciting!!!#idk if you can call it an oc when he's based on an existing character#but I've made so many changes to him that I feel like I can allow myself to call him an oc <3#Symbiote!Hobie#Sage#hobie brown#spider punk#symbiote oc#symbiote hobie#gwen stacy#peter b parker#miguel o'hara#margo kess#across the spider verse
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hyuganejiswife · 1 year
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Overload | Megumi Fushiguro X GNReader
Masterlist
| REQUESTED, sensory overload, overstimulated, partner could be on the spectrum or just have sensory issues, panic, angst, fluff
Word Count: 613
Note: I’m sorry if this isn’t accurate, I’m writing the overstim part based on my own experiences. I get overstimulated by sounds pretty easily, and I’ve had to step away from doing my job at a previous job from nearly having a panic attack due to it. So I’m drawing from that. As far as I know, I’m not on the spectrum. Also, do not take anything I write as a generalization. Everyone who is affected by overstimulation experiences these things differently. I also do not have a service animal so my deep pressure explanation may not be accurate. I have a dog who loves to lay on me when I’m anxious, but she’s not trained for that and it’s my only experience.
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You wanted to shrink away from the world. There was far too much going on all at once. Everyone was branched off in their own conversations. The TV was on, playing some movie that your friends and classmates had all but forgotten, and there was music playing from a speaker in the corner of the room because Yuji wanted to show Panda one of the songs he liked.
You could hear the faint sounds of some video game coming from Toge’s phone and it was driving you insane. You felt like you were being overloaded. Your mind couldn’t process everything that was happening. You could hear everything and nothing at all, all at once.
You stand and leave the room abruptly, half of your friends barely even noticing. Before Maki has even had a chance to stand from her seat, Megumi has made his way out after you, already summoning one of his hounds for you.
It was like he already knew what was wrong. And in fact, maybe he did. He’d been observing you quietly since you started to become more reserved about halfway through the evening. He knew it was only a matter of time before you were far too overstimulated, but he knew better than to ask you to leave or to even insist that you needed to go back to your dorm. He did that once and it led to an argument about you knowing your own limits. Still, it never makes him feel any better to watch you suffer in silence until you’ve decided you had enough.
As he pushes your door open, the demon dog slips past him and makes its home on your bed with you, laying its rather large head over your chest. Your eyes are closed and Megumi decides against saying anything, instead letting you have a moment to decompress and to decide when you are ready to hear his voice. He chooses instead to close and lock your door to prevent an intrusion, afterwards walking around and unplugging any electronics that may cause any type of noise. Once he’s done with that, he sits on the floor against your bed and waits, listening to the sounds of your sniffles filling the room as you start to come down.
A smile reaches his face when your hand finds his hair and he hears a small “thank you” leave your lips. He turns to look up at you, humming and tilting his head. “How are you feeling?” He whispers, still very careful not to be too loud for your sake.
“Bad.”
“That’s okay.” He waits, letting you go at your own pace as you look for the words to say. And if you chose to say none, that was okay too.
“I don’t know why it happens. And I feel bad for leaving every time. Like I’m offending someone or upsetting you and making you leave too.” You tear your gaze away from him, worried.
“I don't do anything that I don't want to do. I only go to those groups for you and because Gojo thinks it’s good for me. And when I leave, I’m relieved. You’re my favorite person. I’d rather be with you over anyone else. And forget about them, they understand, but you don’t owe them anything and certainly not an explanation or an apology. You can’t help it. That’s okay. I’m always going to be here for you, even if you only use me for my demon dogs.”
At his last remark, you find yourself laughing, fresh tears falling. This time though, your tears are filled with relief. Megumi, your wonderful partner, always knew how to make you feel better.
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damnedrainbows · 1 month
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freely ignore, this just the broken rambles of a burned out autistic. or maybe my fellow autistics can relate
I am just so tired of not being able to do…anything a normal person can do. or even what I could do a few year ago
I just wanted to work on my niffty doll, but I kept getting disoriented. I only managed to wrap her armature today, and I’ve been at this for a week
I just wanted to watch tv while I did it, but the tv was piercing and the flashing was too much
the light I had on to work on my doll with wore me down and felt too bright, even with my sunglasses
I had to put on my industrial earmuffs but they’re so tight and I can’t wear my sunglasses with it on
I tried to work on commissions, but the fan from my computer was too loud and the screen was too bright even on the lowest setting
my ipad is even too bright with the lights turned down but i don’t want to go to bed. i donkt want to do nothing
i’ll never get out of this burnout. I feel so broken. what happened to the artist that churned things out daily and the rper that was drawing icons like no tomorrow? what happened to when I could make a doll in a day? now I’m lucky if I can make my own dinner once a week
did I really lose everything that I am? I’m just. forever a sensory overloaded ball with severe chronic pain that I think might be elhers danlos (and not fibromyalgia), and able to do nothing but curl up in my sensory swing
I want my life back. im so tired. I’m so new to burnout, so new, only two years into this discovery of me. i don’t know what to do. I’ve lived with this my entire life without knowing anything other than just being different, odd, and quirky. and now I’m paying the price for masking.
please…does any fellow neurodivergents/autistics have advice?
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chaoticsnowykiddo · 10 months
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Agere headcanons for the calamity trio!
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Anne is a flip, caregiver lean!
When she is regressed her little age is around 8-9. Her regression is voluntary.
She learned about regression through taking care of Sasha and Marcy, then figured that she should try it herself.
She is really hyper when regressed and loves the outdoors.
She sometimes calls Marcy her butterfly and baby and Sasha little dude and kid. Pet names she uses for both are kiddo and hon.
When she is a caregiver she is always doing fun activities with Sasha and Marcy when they regress.
She takes Sasha and Marcy outside on fun nature walks and she always packs snacks! (Makes sure all of them are accessible)
"Can you tell me what color this is kiddo?" "Do you know what animal that is hon?"
She takes Sasha and Marcy to the park very often and they all play on the playground.
She takes them both to the museum often too. She will ask Marcy what the names of the dinosaurs are, both because it helps her be smol but also because she just doesn't know the full names.
She's memorized all the names of Marcys Stuffies and LPS.
She also packs a pair of noise canceling headphones with her incase Marcy has a sensory overload.
She also packs cute bandaids incase either of them gets injured.
She helps Sasha and Marcy cook and bake things, makes sure she's the one to handle anything that's really hot or when chopping things with a knife, she doesn't want her kiddos to get hurt.
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Sasha is a flip, regressor lean!
Her little age is about 5-7. His regression is usually involuntary but sometimes a coping skill.
She started regressing before she even knew what the word for it was, but Marcy taught her what regression was so now he has a word for the feelings.
She'll sometimes help Anne take care of Marcy
When he is a caregiver he is extremely protective of Anne and Marcy.
He'll take Anne and Marcy on trips to the mall and if they are good she will even buy them things.
She definitely stays up past her bedtime.
SHE stole the cookies from the cookie jar! And she sometimes frames Marcy, or the cat...
He will call Anne Mamacha or Anna Banana and Marcy MarMar or sweetie.
On nature walks she definitely runs ahead.
Climbs on everything!
"Check out how fast I can run!" "Look! I can ride a bike with no hands!"
She likes to play with toy cars AND barbies!
Thanks to him, barbie now rides a monster truck!
She likes to play with slime.
She loves to put music on his phone and have dance parties with Anne and Marcy!
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Marcy is a regressor!
Their little age is 2-6. Their regression is usually involuntary but sometimes she uses it to relax. She regressed a lot of the time.
She started regressing after the traumatic events during their time in Amphibia. They found out what it was called while searching online.
She calls Anne mama, mama bear, and baba, they call Sasha Sash and big sis or big bro.
They use pacis and she likes to decorate them themself!
They put stickers on everything!
She loves to play pretend! Sometimes she's a pirate! Sometimes their a doctor! They can be anything!
They have a massive stuffie collection and she needs more!
She is very clingy and cuddly, they will snuggle with Anne and Sasha any chance they get.
They love playing with Littlest Pet Shops and they have a ton of them! And also Legos! Sasha will join her a lot of times.
They have another journal specifically for their regression.
They play animal crossing and she has also made them, Sasha, and Anne in the sims.
They get sensory overloads a lot but Anne is always there to help calm them down.
They are always talking about her hyper fixations and getting any merch they can of it (especially plushies!)
Anne and Sasha help them with doctors appointments (they need to go a lot more after the events of true colors). Anne will hold her hand during shots or blood draws, or just if she gets stressed.
Also due to the events of true colors they sometimes need a wheelchair to get around. Anne will usually be the one to push her but sometimes Sasha will push her too. Sasha pushes them very fast, they both find it fun.
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purplelupins · 2 years
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How do you think Sweet Dreams Albert would react to someone flirting with the reader? You mentioned them going to the grocery store together and I can imagine the young clerk scanning their items and being very flirty with the reader. (Maybe not suspecting Albert Is her partner because he is older?)
Also do you ever think Albert would be insecure because he has such an age gap with the reader? She is obviously very young while he is most definitely middle aged and greying. Do you think this would worry him? Maybe fearing she might leave him for someone younger eventually? Or be afraid she would lose attraction to him?
feel free to maybe these responses as long and draw out as you want 😏
(I got a little carried away but Omg please don’t stop asking questions this was so fun. Thank you so so much)
I think at first, their outings would be a bit difficult. In a word, he would be possessive. I think honestly he would stick by her side half because he needed to and half because she literally asked him to not leave her because of her past in the town, and because she probably would have a bit of agoraphobia from not interacting with a lot of people for so long( in small settings like walks it’s fine but shopping is all kinds of sensory overloads) he would push the cart and she would hold his arm closely while excitedly pointing to different things asking if they could get it (“they have CHOCOLATE cereal now?? We have to get it” “look at the fresh muffins at the bakery- Albert please??”) to which he would always say yes.
The cutest part of their time out together is that he insists on paying for everything, even though they both know she has a small fortune saved up in her bank for when she was planning on leaving Denver. And she ALWAYS gives him a kiss somewhere to show her gratitude.
This man is touching her in someway no matter what. His hand is on her somehow. But of course you will get the odd male who just sees a beautiful young woman and couldn’t care less about who the older man beside her was. Probably her dad right?
So as she’s busy with getting a bag of carrots or a new carton of eggs, perhaps she’s strayed a couple feet from the older man watching her lovingly. And in that moment of her not being leashed by Albert, a man thinking with his second head approaches her.
“Pardon me miss?” The man said ever so charmingly.
She jumped and looked to where the voice came from and immediately looked over at Albert who just so happened to be looking at a new brand of coffee. She slowly began inching back to him, “yes?” She asked timidly.
“I was just wondering if you knew where to find a pretty thing like you around here?” He man asked, coming closer with a smile.
She didn’t know what to say, but thankfully in that moment Albert came beside her and pulled her to his side with a kiss to her head, “you okay bunny?” He asked her, knowing she didn’t want to talk to that man. How could she? She was his.
“Everything alright here?” Albert asked the man pointedly, stroking his sweet girl’s waist.
The man looked from Albert’s hand to her calm face then to Albert’s face and he got all embarrassed, “Just asking where the eggs were.” The man tried to recover.
But she shook her head “No you didn’t. You asked where you could find a pretty thing like me.” She said ratting him out.
Albert sucked in a breath and tilted his head to look down at his sweet girl, “Did he now? “ he asked in dramatic shock, then slowly looked back up at the man. “Someone like you will never find out. Eggs are there.” Albert nodded shortly to the eggs, and kissed her cheek, “Come on sweetie. Let’s get home, hmm?”
And she lit up , “Oh! oh I wanted to make us this new pasta dish I saw on the food network!” She smiled and clung to Albert, having already forgotten about the man.
“I can’t wait.” He would coo to her, guiding her away, but throwing one last dirty look at the man.
If it was a clerk, let’s just say that poor boy would need another uniform after stress sweating. It would probably go down like this:
She was unloading the cart at the counter with Albert, but she was first so the clerk saw her mostly. She just gave the boy a small friendly smile, and just went on with her unloading. The boy did a full, very obvious double take, which Albert saw immediately. His eye twitched.
“H-how’s your day going?” They boy asked, swallowing nervously.
Albert’s eye twitched again, and his fists clenched.
Thin ice boy
She looked up at him, moving the cart though, “Oh good. Thanks.” She said politely, looking back at Albert to make sure he was still there.
Then the boy went to open his mouth again and that was it. “Just a couple bags, thank you….Bennnny.” Albert said casually as he read the boys name tag, drawing out the ‘n’ sound. It made the boy’s hair stand on end. Albert took pleasure in seeing the droplets of sweat on his head, and pushed the cart to the end out of the way and pulled her to wrap his arms around her, swaying them slightly as he hummed in her ear that song they shared.
Their song.
“O-okay.” The boy responded shakily. He looked away immediately, and began bagging the items quickly.
“Don’t rip it now…” Albert said, which only made the boy more nervous. Y/n on the other hand had picked up where Albert had left off in humming the song, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.
That boy quit shortly after.
When they got into their new truck(remember that brown and white 1970 Ford F100 truck? Well now it’s blue. Thanks dad!) his hand would immediately be on her thigh, stroking it gently at first, but slowly moving higher until he could see his bunny trying to keep herself together. When they got home, she barely had time to unload the groceries before he was on her. She just finished putting away the coffee in the cupboard when he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, gripping her hair as he pulled her lips to his.
He already knew her panties were a mess, so he just tore at the sides to get rid of them quickly…he almost came in his pants when he saw how the fabric clung to her slick, refusing to leave her. He growled, picked her up and she squealed as he placed her on the counter. Albert slipped one long finger inside her first, just to tease her, and when she begged so prettily he undid his pants and shucked them off she looked down, biting her cheek as she waiting for him to slide inside her.
“Look at Daddy.” He rasped, and she did immediately. “That’s my girl.”
She barely had time to revel in his praise as he pushed inside her soaked little pussy.
“Tell Daddy you belong to him.” He growled in her ear, thrusting into her. He saw her try and speak a couple times, but each time he would slam into her a little harder to watch her struggle to answer him.
“I’m yours daddy!” She whimpered, locking her ankles around his thighs as he bucked into her.
“That’s my girl…that’s a good fucking girl…mine.” He growled, sucking at her neck to made a new bruise. “You’re mine.”
She could not walk after shopping days. But he would make it up to her with a long bath and brushing her hair for an extra long time.
After a while, however, things would calm. People in town would grow to recognize them, and would stop bothering them aside from the odd old lady. But even with them being left alone, he still kept a close eye on her, and she barely left his side. Secretly, when they were out they would play a game with one another. They would chose a person, and tell eachother how they would kill them, and why. Bonding time!
As for the second question, I think there would be a lot of insecurity in the beginning especially for him. He’s lived in some kind of fear his whole life so it’s only natural to fear that she might leave him. I think he would also watch how she reacted to people asking what his daughter wanted at the ice cream shop…to his pleasure, she sometimes played along. He would also make small comments here and there to see her reaction, and move forward accordingly.
They were watching a film, and there was a reference that made Albert smile but flew right over y/n’s head. He smiled “You’re too young to know this but back when I was your age…” and go on to talk about something.
But she would just love to hear him talk (Umm have you heard his voice??) and wait until he was done. She would smile and nod, “Well this is why I have you! You can tell me everything I don’t know yet.” She clung to him tighter.
“It doesn’t bother you?” He might ask a little pointedly.
“What? That I didn’t get the joke?” She looked up at him.
“No that I understood it.” He said, not looking at her. To which she would smile sweetly.
“Albert Shaw look at me.” She said.
He sighed and finally looked at her as she adjusted herself to sit up and look him in the eye.
“I wouldn’t care if you were 60 or 70 years old, so long as you were you. Or don’t I show you that enough?” She asked a little playfully, easing her hand onto his thigh to stroke him.
He snatched her hand and stared at her, checking for any lie. But she just grinned smittenly and slowly pulled her hand away to continue rubbing him. He relaxed after a minute, his chest rising and falling visibly as he hardened under her touch. Albert pulled her into his lap and pulled himself out before lifting her up to sink down into him. She gasped and steadied herself on his shoulders. Y/n went to rock against him, but he held her still and kept her there. “Hold still sweetie. Just keep daddy’s cock warm for now, okay? no moving.”
She she nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, clenching every so often, but every time she would get a harsh smack on her butt cheek. The pain and control would slowly get them off though until he’s growling in her ear, “I know it feels so good sweetie but I need you to keep still…you can do that right?”
She shook her head shamefully.
“No? You can’t get enough of my fucking cock? Maybe I’ll just have to be inside you every second of every day to see if that satisfies you…I bet it wouldn’t. You’re too greedy aren’t you? Hmm?” And with his voice alone, she came. Hard. Her legs shook as she lost their little game, and he held her down onto him as her spasms sent him over with her. His cum filling her up.
They would always play games together. It just made everything so much more fun.
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My name is Ariel. I'm the first ever person to be recognised to have a PDA profile (of autism) without autism. And I've realised recently how much the random stuff I do on here, is what I want to be doing for the rest of my life.
So much of my existence has been spent masking, hiding who I really am. And how could I not? When there is no representation of a neurotype anything like mine. When there is no category for it in people's heads either, and so the way they perceive me--and I see it in the way they communicate with me, in their language and behaviour--tends to be a facet, a side, a view of the real me that never shows the whole picture. It's exhausting, never really being known. Existing in fragments of myself to accommodate for people who genuinely do want to know me, but I don't have the language to explain the extent of who I am to them and as a result, the first thing they see becomes everything, in their mind. After that's happened it's hard to explain how it's always not been the case. How I didn't mean to deceive them. I didn't ask to be this way.
I relate to late-diagnosed autistics in this, the confusion of people around them as they unmask. But they often will say they get to fully be themselves in autistic spaces. I don't experience that relief. I feel the kinship of being neurodivergent, and I share the experience of hyperfixations and overload in the ways they present for me. But it's like communicating with neurotypicals, only different. I don't feel a sense of home. I'm like you in some ways. In other ways, not so much. Just different ways. And it's exhausting living in fragments. But this weird partial dual citizenship has superfinetuned my communication skills. My empathy. My ability to understand brains and experiences which are wildly different--and when I'm taking in all of this information all of the time, feeling all this empathy, shifting gears in my brain for every neurotype of every person I lose myself in the experiences of a little--it gets overwhelming. I get overloaded, yes, from the volume of it, and I wish I could relate to empaths more on these things, that I didn't have to expose myself to problematic takes to try. But I also see patterns and trends. I'm hyperaware of authority structures and power and hierarchies as a PDAer. And so some of these patterns concern me. But who can I debrief what I'm seeing, what I'm exposed to every day I interact with people (and I always am interacting with people) with? No one sees it from the vantage point I do. And it's exhausting to have to explain it.
But a silver lining, I guess, is the sense of purpose it brings. The sense that maybe little by little, I can be a part of putting some of the things I see right. There are many areas I'm passionate about, and I talk a lot about them on this blog. It's good to have the outlet. There are many ways of addressing them that I can see, and imagine playing out from my unique perspective, predict how every stakeholder will interact with them. See whether they work, or it's time to return to the drawing board. I'm a PDAer, I'm a natural problem solver. And every effort I make takes a weight off my chest. I'm processing things and doing what I can for them. I can rest knowing I've done my part. I'm not ignoring the injustice, the elephant in the room or in my vision, the thing that when I'm involved with gives me sensory overload (or the closest thing to it) and I'm so empathetic to the people involved with at all times, I can get overloaded from feeling how it must be for them.
I have to look after myself. Manage my energy. But it's hard, because the accounting formulas we're given don't work for me. Even common profiles of neurodivergence--I'm energised by novelty. By connection. By creativity, not by routine. I need each of the carefully constructed tasks in my routine to regulate me in order to be able to do the next, which will regulate me for the next and so on. It's a hard system to put together. I don't know anyone else who has to do the same. And I know a lot of people.
I think my neurotype only assists me with my biggest form of art, the main thing I want to do with my life. I like to joke that every urban planner/designer who graduated from my high school is a PDAer. I don't have a large sample space for that observation. But I'm usually right. We see the big picture. We care about justice and we're good at finding it among fake claims of it. We're natural problem solvers. We're empathetic artists. We're practical at our core. We hyperfocus. And perhaps most of all, we're communicators.
I've heard the main thing an urban designer is is a communicator. No wonder. I shuffle through information and perspectives like a deck of cards I'm trying to sort by colour, number, and shape. I match up people's opposing perspectives and I unpack their fears in front of me. And then I draw. I write. I compose melodies--anything to get this constant stream of ideas out of me and doing something productive. So of course I'm going to be standing up against power abuses in religion, unpacking every way this infiltrates into our lives and all of its impacts. Of course I'm going to dissect colonialism and present ways we can do better. Face and push through the fear that has us trying to lord over others without realising. Of course I'm going to reach out to anyone even vaguely like me that they might not have to be alone in it. I might not have to be alone in it as well. And of course I'm going to understand them perfectly.
Is it a skill? Sure. Is it a neurotype? Absolutely. It's myself, the 'me' I never understood how to be until I understood everyone else. Is it a disability? It disrupts any ability I have to do anything else I or anyone else might want me to do with my days. It tires me out. It overloads me in ways there aren't really any normalised ways to explain and I can't say no to it when I feel compelled to do something. It impacts my mental health. It limits me. But it's who I am. Why would I want to try to be anything else?
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yourdeepestfathoms · 2 years
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thinking about the OXENFREE II concept where Riley saves Alex from the loop
it would take a crowbar to pry Alex away from Riley because i feel like Alex would hold on So Tight the moment she makes contact with her. with someone real for the first time in five years. Alex refuses to let go because she’s terrified that, if she does, she’ll be forced back into the loop. Riley lets herself be an anchor for the terrified girl, just to make her feel safer, more stable in reality.
also you can’t tell me that all of Alex’s senses wouldn’t be absolutely assaulted by Everything once she gets back to the real world. i mean, she’s been stuck reliving the same night over and over and over again for five years—she’s probably used to the darkness. and even when on the ferry during her false escape, that light is nowhere near as bright as the light in reality. also, there’s so much new stimulation. forgetting about the light, there’s the sounds, the smells, the sensations. the clamor of other people is deafening to someone who has interacted with the same voices for so long, the smell of gasoline would probably choke her, and the sensation of hot sun on her skin would be like throwing her directly into an open fire. the poor kid is absolutely overwhelmed, and probably starts to teeter into a full-blown sensory overload.
Jacob then proposes an idea: they wrap her eyes with something! since eyelids can only do so much, they wrap her eyes with some cloth to block off as much light as possible. if they have something to plug her ears, they use those, too. anything to make her more comfortable.
and then Riley and Jacob come to one big problem: Alex’s identity. this girl probably had missing posters or at least missing reports about her. it’s been five years, but surely people would have remembered a kid who disappeared under such mysterious circumstances. if they want to get her off Edwards Island, they need a way to hide her appearance, at least until they can get some hair dye to change her hair color from its very distinct shade of blue (“technically, it’s teal,” Riley says over and over again) (Jacob keeps saying orange, which Riley shuts down right away because orange is a hideous color and they shouldn’t subject the poor girl to that torture; “she’s already gone through enough!”).
so, to solve this issue, they have Alex swap her jacket with Riley’s. Alex seems extremely distressed to part with the piece of clothing that has quite literally gone through hell and back with her, but Riley swears up and down that she’ll return it to her once they’re somewhere out of eyesight of other people (and once she washes the thing. it reeks of sweat and saltwater and blood).
they also have Alex wear Jacob’s hat. they tie her hair up into a messy bun and tuck it underneath the hat, thinking that’ll be good enough to hide it from people.
Jacob carries Alex to the ferry, then to the car. she keeps her face buried in his neck the entire time, which is good. if her face matching the face of a missing teenager from five years ago doesn’t draw stares, then the fact that she’s essentially blindfolded certainly would. but she keeps her head down the whole time. she also has her nails dug into Jacob’s shoulders for grounding, and if this hurts him, he doesn’t say anything.
in the car, Alex falls asleep in the backseat while Riley and Jacob discuss what they’re going to do. they decide the best course of action is taking Alex to Riley’s house and waiting for her to recover enough to explain everything thoroughly to them. she can then tell them what she wants to do. if she wants to return to her actual family, then they’ll help her find them (though, Riley mentions that she’ll take Alex under her wing if Alex doesn’t want to go back to her home) (Jacob is curious about this, but he doesn’t say anything about it).
Jacob then asks the big question: “do you think Alex would rather have tacos or McDonald’s for breakfast?”
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