unruly thoughts

Deconstructing STPD: Odd Thinking/Speech

((This is a multi-part series called Deconstructing STPD: symtpoms and the other posts will be linked as I go along!))

Ideas of reference

Odd Beliefs

Unusual Perceptual Experiences

Odd Thinking/Speech (you are here)

Paranoia/Suspicion

Inappropriate/Constricted affect

Odd Behavior/Appearance

Lack of Close Friends + Extreme Social Anxiety

______________________________________________________________

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thought_disorder

Odd thinking/speech is one of the most obvious symptoms to everyone BUT those with STPD. In fact, one might not view their own thought/speech as odd until someone else points it out! 

I included sources in this one because most websites don’t have a very comprehensive list of the TYPES of disorganized thought/speech, so go ahead and read those if you like (most of the information will be repeated here)

Odd speaking/thought can be caused by a lot of different things, but a lot of the times the speaking part is because of odd thought. STPD is technically a very mild psychotic disorder, and psychotic itself means “thought disorder”! So it makes sense that thought is unruly. If you don’t experience odd speech, it just means you’re able to filter out the garbledygook inside your head. It would be pretty rare, though.

Odd speech and thought isn’t necessarily CONSTANT and you may find that you can sometimes hold a conversation without once speaking oddly, or even hold onto a train of thought and let it go without it being “off”! Also, you don’t have to only experience ONE 100% of the time. You can experience multiple even in the same train of thought/conversation! Most of this SHOULD be able to apply to thought as well as speech.

For some reason, only four or five types of disorganized thought/speech are listed on websites (and it’s always the same four) so we’ll go through those first.

((I’ll be going over about 20-25 different types of odd speech/thought, so most of it is under a keep reading. Hope you don’t mind.))

Vague: Similar to how it sounds, vague speech is when the speaker doesn’t make their point clear. They answer or communicate in a way that is unclear. example: “Hey, why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday?” “I was… busy.”

Circumstantial: Giving excessive detail when asked a question. Unlike with tangential thinking, the speaker eventually returns to the point. example: “hey, why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday?” “Well, I was almost ready to go–I had my outfit on, my hair was perfect (I even curled it) but my dog just THREW UP. He was fine one moment and then the next he was gagging like no one’s business, well that was the third time this week so my mom said we had to take him to the vet.(you get the idea)

Metaphorical: Again, basically, it’s using excessive metaphor when speaking. For instance. example: “Hey, why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday?” “The grim reaper nearly visited my home that day, nearly took my own dog. We forced him out, however–we managed to keep us safe.”

Over-elaborate: Just as it assumes, using too many fancy words in your speech. example: “hey, why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday?” “My canine companion became ill, my maternal guardian and myself had to transport him to the clinic.”

Stereotyped: Basically, repeating words. A lot. example: “Hey, why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday?” “Party, party, party, I didn’t–I didn’t come to the party, on Saturday, Saturday, Saturday… busy, i was busy, busy, busy busy busy busy busy.” ((this can be present in thought, almost like having a song stuck in your head, but with words or concepts which continuously repeat.))

Okay! Now onto some lesser known ones. 

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What Took Place in the Common Room (Drabble)

The eighth year common room had been cleared out hours ago, but Draco and Harry still sat on a couch together, enjoying the fire.

They were so worn out from chess games and talking to the other eighth years that they didn’t have the energy to head to their rooms. Or perhaps they just didn’t want to.

Draco’s sat there, he stopped wearing gel long ago. Now his hair sits wherever it pleases, but it still never looks bad. Hermione thought he put charms on it secretly.

Harry had been thinking about Draco for months now, he filled his every thought. Harry couldn’t understand how such an absurd change of events could happen. Events, in which, the eighth years became friends, and Harry was still obsessed with Draco Malfoy– just in a slightly different way than before.

Harry turned his head to look at the boy beside him.

His hand. It was just sitting there, palm-open, warm. Harry thought about how many nerves Draco hand had, connected to every part of his body. He wanted to touch those nerves. He wanted to touch his hand. He wanted those nerves to feel him, zap into Draco’s brain cells the knowledge that they were touching.

Harry thought he should really go up to his room, and put a stop to these thoughts.

But he could do it so easily, grab the boy’s hand, hold it in his. It was less than a foot away from Harry’s right hand. He could feel Draco’s nerves reaching towards him.

Harry looked at his face, and he knew he was right when he first saw Draco. He was all sharpness, freeways of life running through his veins. His face was illuminated. A motion picture flashed across his cheeks, reminding Harry that he should be somewhere else. He couldn’t think of being anywhere else, any farther than one foot from Draco was too much for him to bear. Harry thought he liked Draco too much, and all he wanted to do was hold his hand.

His hand had begun to move, like it was getting tired of his dwaddling. It moved slowly. Harry couldn’t remember a time when he wanted something so much, and merlin, all he wanted to do was touch him. His fingertips were brushing Draco’s and he knew he felt it. The motion picture on his face had stopped. They weren’t looking at each other

Then Draco grabbed Harry’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Draco turned his head to Harry and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he spoke.

“I think saving the wizarding world took all of the Gryffindor out of you, Potter. You really ought to go to Madam Pomfrey.”

“You’re an absolute prat.” Harry mumbled as he hesitantly began trailing kisses up Draco’s arm.

Draco didn’t try to ignore how Harry made him feel this time. He relished in the feeling that began to curl inside of his stomach. He thought about Harry, with his soft skin and his unruly Harry. He thought about Harry, Harry, Harry. Oh merlin, he was infatuated with the boy.

“Yeah, I know.” Draco said moments before he caught Harry in a kiss that sent chills down their backs.

They pushed against each other, wanting to touch every part of the other boy’s body. They kissed each other leisurely, but with passion, as though these events were inevitable all along. Draco’s arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, pulling the boy closer. His lips were soft, mixing with the other boy’s, tasting each other.

Harry had never felt so fulfilled, his whimper shook something inside of Draco.

They stopped kissing, and just held each other that night. They shared light banter, as Draco’s nose touched the soft skin of Harry’s neck. The magic between them was thrumming. One live wire connecting them both. 

It was then that Harry knew, he could chat with all the aliens in the universe, and nothing would be better than the contact that he’d made.

Wrong Number Series Part 18

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!!!! :DDDDDDD YAYAYAYAY I’M FINALLY POSTING THE SNEAK PEAK YAYAYAY!!!!! Okay so, as this is a sneak peak into the next chapter, it is rather short!!!! Still, I worked very hard on it so I hope you all enjoy it!!! ^^^^ 

For text reference, I mention parts 14, 15, and 16! This is a continuation of Story 2! And If you haven’t read any WNS text then here’s the Start! Okay, happy reading everyone!!! :DDDD - Eomma^^

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Show and Tell

Submitted by trulycas

Prompt: Superheroes

Round 2.9: Show and Tell vs. Fire

Sam didn’t like going to school.

At least, not when he was younger- six, to be exact. Wide-eyed, wild-haired, mouth always running and hands constantly tugging on Dean’s sleeve for some sliver of attention. That’s where he always wanted to be- by Dean’s side. Not in the midst of a swarm of high voices and accusing looks and giggles hidden behind palms.

He couldn’t be with his big brother when he was at school. Couldn’t hear his warm voice or count the explosion of freckles falling across his cheeks after Dad grumbled that he was “too busy” to play a game. It was always, “Class, this is Sam.” “Where have you been, Sam?” “Where’d you get that bruise, Sam?”

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Atlas

Synopsis: A quick Angela Ziegler study featuring Fareeha Amari.

Pairing: Pre-Rocket Angel/Pharmercy (Angela “Mercy” Ziegler/Fareeha “Pharah” Amari)

Doctor Angela Ziegler is a workaholic. There’s no use denying it, and at 37, even Angela’s stopped finding the weak protests that decayed and shriveled with the years. Now, when her colleagues ask her to drinks or a movie, they’ve begun to turn away before she can even shake her head, ponytail bouncing, and say, “I’m sorry; I have work to do.”

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the serum

Thanks to madentirelyoutofawesome for tagging me in this post! All due credit goes to the op!

Summary: The Doctor is injected with a serum that allows him to hear all of Rose’s thoughts, some of which are cleaner than others.

The moment the Doctor entered the TARDIS, he knew something was wrong. His chest was heaving up and down, his forehead was sweaty. Rose matched his exhaustion as she sat against the wooden doors, her fingers touching her pulse.

That was horrifying.

He glanced over at her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Rose panted, smoothing her palms down the fabric of her jeans.

I wonder if that serum the guards gave him had any sort of effect. I’d better ask.

“That serum that they gave you,” Rose said, looking up at him. “Did it affect you at all?”

He stared at her blankly. “Rose, what is happening?”

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The Sunlight of Awareness

by Thich Nhat Hanh

Observe the changes that take place in your mind under the light of awareness. Even your breathing has changed and become “not-two” (I don’t want to say “one”) with your observing self. This is true of all your thoughts, feelings and habits, which, together with their effects, are suddenly transformed.

From time to time you may become restless, and the restlessness will not go away. At such times, just sit quietly, follow your breathing, smile a half-smile, and shine your awareness on the restlessness. Don’t judge it or try to destroy it, because this restlessness is you yourself. It is born, has some period of existence, and fades away, quite naturally. Don’t be in too big a hurry to find its source. Don’t try too hard to make it disappear. Just illuminate it. You will see that little by little it will change, merge, become connected with you, the observer. Any psychological state that you subject to this illumination will eventually soften and acquire the same nature as the observing mind.

Throughout your meditation, keep the sun of your awareness shining. Like the physical sun, which lights every leaf and every blade of grass, our awareness lights our every thought and feeling, allowing us to recognize them, be aware of their birth, duration, and dissolution, without judging or evaluating, welcoming or banishing them.

It is important that you do not consider awareness to be your “ally,” called on to suppress the “enemies” that are your unruly thoughts. Do not turn your mind into a battlefield. Opposition between good and bad is often compared to light and dark, but if we look at it in a different way, we will see that when light shines, darkness does not disappear. It doesn’t leave; it merges with the light. It becomes the light.

To meditate does not mean to fight with a problem. To meditate means to observe. Your smile proves it. It proves that you are being gentle with yourself, that the sun of awareness is shining in you, that you have control of your situation. You are yourself, and you have acquired some peace. It is this peace that makes a child love to be near you.

Renewed: Part 4.

Find the other parts: HERE.



Lights twinkled on the storefronts as they meandered through the snow covered streets hand in hand. Every so often, Jamie would glance over at Claire and smile. Her nose was bright red, the cold air nipping at her pale skin. Still, she was utterly beautiful.

Just over the bridge, on the wee walk towards the train station, the street lamps dimmed slightly. Jamie took his chance, the conditions were as perfect as they were going to get.

Claire, enamoured by the falling daylight and the gentle glow of the low slung sun in the sky, was gazing intently around her, not really paying much attention to Jamie. She stumbled as he stopped, turning around to see what the hold up was.

He’d gone down on one knee, the soft snow crunching as he compressed it under his weight. Claire paled, her hands shaking with nerves as she watched him fumble around in his thick winter coat.

“I ken that this is a wee bit sudden, Claire. But I *know* it’s right, I can feel it, aye? So, Miss Claire Beauchamp,” he paused, looking up at her as he held the tiny box in his hands and opened the lid up for her to see, “will ye marry me?”

An eerie silence surrounded them, as Jamie waited for her to respond.

Claire couldn’t breathe. Her divorce wasn’t quite finalised yet, and her heart beat an unruly rhythm at the thought of marrying again so soon after.

“I…” she stammered, pulling her hand free from his and taking a step backwards. “I can’t! I’m s-sorry.”

The words hit him solidly in the chest, as if she’d physically whacked him. He stood, watching her disappear around the corner. She’d gone towards the hospital, of that he was sure.

He’d give her a moment, let her catch her breath, and then he’d go after her. There had to be more to the story than just simply ‘no’.


The streets blurred around her as she fled the scene, her eyes filling with tears. There was only one person she could think to go to, the only person who *knew* about her other than Mrs Fitz. 

“Claire?” Joe’s head snapped up as his door flew open. He was shocked, he hadn’t expected to see his colleague since her quick exit weeks earlier. He’d spoken briefly to her on the telephone after confirming her sabbatical, but her turning up with tears streaking down her wind blushed face was incredibly out of character.

“What’s the matter LJ?” He asked, perplexed. Even when the rumour mill at been at its peak, she’d kept her cool. “It’s unlike you to be rattled.”

“He asked me.” She spat out, her hands fluttering around her face, the nervous energy pouring out of her as she sat down at his desk and fiddled with his nameplate. “I’m not even, I can’t…I told him as much, I just –can’t.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, LJ. You can’t what?” Joe passed her a tissue, placing the box in front of her, certain she’d probably need another soon. “I presume this is about your young man, Jamie.”

Claire nodded, blowing her nose and cleaning herself up before speaking again. “He asked me, down on one knee by the Clyde. It was p-perfect, you know? And I couldn’t say yes.” Her words were strung together, her shoulders jiggling nervously under the harsh spotlight in the tiny office. “I’m not even…from F-Frank yet, how can I do that again, Joe? How?”

“He asked you to marry him, Claire?”

She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and wide and nodded. Her mouth was suddenly too dry to answer verbally.

“Well, he certainly moves fast.” Placing his pen down, Joe pulled his chair closer to his desk and sat up straight. “The question is, LJ, do you want to marry *him*?”

Joe’s question brought her up short. She’d been so shocked by his proposal that she’d just panicked. Now, with the adrenaline settling and her blood returning to normal, she finally had time to process Jamie’s *proposition*.

“I…”

“Don’t even consider Frank in this, Claire. That man doesn’t deserve another moment of your thoughts.

“But I can’t,” she blushed, a vibrant shade of red that spread down her neck as the tears began anew, “you know…” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she tore holes in the tissue in her hands, “conceive.”

“I take it you haven’t told him this?” Joe smiled, a comforting smile that softened his large brown pupils as he bent over the desk to touch Claire gently.

“No.”

“But you also can’t be sure it’s you, can you?” He quirked a brow, tapping the back of her fingers once before drawing his palm away.

Claire’s eyes met his once more, and she shook her head.

“I think you’d better go and find your guy, LJ, before he blows his top looking for you.”

Joe stood, encouraging Claire to follow his lead, and helpfully lead her back through the mostly empty corridors of the small A&E department.

As they turned the very last corner, Claire and Joe came face to face with a very weary looking Jamie. Joe nodded, a small grin on his face as he nudged Claire forward and disappeared back off to his office. She’d be alright from here, he was certain.


“Claire…”

“Jamie…”

They both said, simultaneously, each stopping to allow the other to continue.

Jamie swept his hand in front of his chest, encouraging Claire to speak once more.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there, all alone, so abruptly. Please forgive me.”

Jamie licked his lips and stepped forward, running the back of his pointer finger down the length of her face. “Ye dinna need forgiveness, Claire. I shouldna ha’ sprung such a thing on ye at such short notice. Ye dinna have to answer me, aye?”

“I want to, Jamie.” She blurted, taking his hand and leading him back out onto the bitter streets. She was eager to be away from the eyes and ears of the hospital, knowing their eagerness for gossip in any form.

Once they were safely away, she sat them down on a lone bench, backs turned to the old cathedral behind them.

“I have something I have to say though, first. Before I can answer you.”

“Aye, alright. It willna…” He began, certain that nothing she said could change his feelings for her, but Claire wasn’t so sure.

“Please, Jamie, let me tell you first.” She interrupted, not wanting him to make promises he might not be able to keep.

She waited for him to show signs of his approval before continuing. He squeezed her hands, willing her to say her piece.

“I don’t think I can have children.” She gasped, taking in a large breath at the end, as the weight of the sentence lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t dare look at him now, instead she chose to focus on the few cars rolling down the road, the sound of them squelching through the slush soothing her aching heart.

“Did ye think I’d mind that, sassenach?” Jamie’s voice sliced through her wee bubble of quiet, bringing her back to the present.

She made eye contact once more.

“We’re into our forties now, Claire. I didna consider it an option, no’ just because of fertility issues, but because of our age.” His blue eyes twinkled in the midnight street light.

“James Fraser, are you calling me old?” She asked, faux-consternation lacing her tone.

“Ach, no, my wee beauty…” he ran his hands across his heart, tapping the fabric of his coat where it raised, lifted by a small bump that lay beneath.

The ring.

“…but I would like to call ye –my wife–. *If* ye would do me the honour, Mistress Beauchamp?” He bowed before her, a flourishing movement, his arms sweeping to the side as he did so.

She laughed, batting away the tears from her eyes as she reached forward to bring his chin up, so that his eyes might lock with hers.

“Yes, Master Fraser, I would like that very much.”

For the second time that evening, she was rendered breathless. But this time from pleasure. Jamie, in his giddiness, swept her up in his arms and swung her around in a circle. Their hearts beating together, through their thick layers, as happiness surged through them both.

Jamie, finally, placed Claire back against the pavement, removed the ring box from his inner coat pocket. Opening the box; he took out the ring, and held it up for her inspection.

It was absolutely gorgeous, she thought. Not too flashy, but a few nice diamonds dotted around a larger gem in the centre.

“It was my mother’s ring first, and then Jenny’s for a while. It was left to me in the will, and now, my Claire, it belongs to you.”

He squeezed it over her knuckle, laughing as he twisted it about to get it on correctly. A large smile covered his face, his eyes shining with moisture as it sat snugly at the base of her ring finger.

“Oh, Jamie. It’s so…”

“Aye, I ken. Perfect, just like my fiancé.”

She rubbed the fine gold with the thumb of her left hand as she leant forward and brushed her nose against his.

“Kiss me, Mr Fraser.”

“My pleasure, *Mrs* Fraser.”

In the distance, or so it seemed, a car horn sounded. Its loud beep echoing around the pair as they melted together on the pavement. Jamie was certain he heard some hoots of joy, and he smiled as he kissed Claire into oblivion. Ignoring, once more, the Glaswegian serenade and focusing solely on his bride-to-be.

"Kiss. Please. Me." - Solangelo AU part 2

And after ages I finally have an actual part 2 for Kiss. Please. Me. Like people wanted. So yeah. Sorry for the wait, I guess.

Here is a link to part 1 of you have not read it: http://awkwardfanfictionwriter.tumblr.com/post/146037756464/kiss-please-me-solangelo-au

Also tell me if you want more deaf!Nico, because I love writing it.

-

Nico wasn’t avoiding Will despite what his friends said. He was simply just trying not to be in the same room with Will at any time and glancing over the notifications on his phone when it had Will’s name as the ID. Not avoiding at all.

It was easy for Nico to ignore Will if he wanted too. All he had to do was look down when Will entered the room and he wouldn’t be able to hear whatever Will was trying to say. But all Nico was doing was exiting any room where he thought familiar unruly blonde hair may be.

Jason and Percy kept trying to get Nico in the same room as Will, even going as far as to pick him up and toss him in the back of Jason’s car without giving any information of where they were going until they were outside Will’s favourite ice cream parlour where he had something every Friday after school.

The rest of Nico’s friends, while curious, didn’t plague him about his sudden lack of communication with the blonde haired boy.

They asked about Will, but at least they didn’t lock Nico in a cupboard until he spoke to a Will. It took Percy and Leo a little while to realize that Nico, who had no idea why he was in the cupboard, couldn’t hear them explaining why he was being locked away.

The only one Nico had told about what had happened with Will was Hazel and she, sworn to secrecy, was the only one trying to convince him to speak to Will once again by passive-aggressive means. While Percy and Jason where trying to trick him into being in the same place as Will, Hazel was trying to guilt him into talking to Will.

He probably thinks you hate him. Hazel had told him the morning after Nico had admitted what happened to her. The evening before she was so happy for Nico, so proud that he finally got his first kiss with a nice boy. When he told her that he wasn’t talking to Will any more however… Hazel was slightly terrifying when she was angry.

Maybe I do. Nico shrugged. Hazel furrowed her eyebrows and gave her brother an unbelieving look.

Sure, and I hate Frank. Hazel shook her head as she signed, her hair falling in front of her eyes. Nico moved it out of the way. Ignore him as much as you like, but you can’t deny that you have some feelings for him.

Nico snorted. I can deny it all I want, Hazel.

Hazel said something aloud, something Nico couldn’t lip read as she shook her head again. She told Nico she had to go meet Frank for breakfast, rising to her feet and pressing a kiss to Nico’s head before leaving.

Nico returned his attention to the laptop that sat forgotten before him after his conversation with his sister.

The picture that shone happily on the screen was familiar to Nico. He had taken it only weeks previously when Will was over Nico’s revising for a Chemistry test. In it Will laid across Nico’s bed as if he belonged there, limbs stretched out as a content smile worked its way into his lips.

Nico remembered how he averted his eyes while his face headed when Will’s t shirt rode up to reveal a flat, tanned stomach and how Will’s tone ventured on amused when he saw the pink dust Nico’s cheeks.

Nico shut his laptop almost angrily, slamming it to escape the flutter of guilt that coursed through his body.

He didn’t want to ignore Will. It was just the easiest thing to do.

The flashing light distracted Nico from his self-pitying state of mind, the bright artificial white light flickering ever other second. It was for Nico, the doorbell that pissed him off with its bright light. Because he couldn’t hear the doorbell go off.

Nico hated answering the door. It was bad enough being outside where people stared at you for signing, but it was worse when someone did it in his own house.

Nico expected to see a delivery man or some door-to-door sales man. Hazel often ordered things online - clothes or art supplies or presents for her boyfriend - without telling Nico so he was used to trying to communicate with the insensitive delivery men that was at the door.

He wasn’t prepared for the mop of blonde hair and entrancing blue eyes that stood on his doorstep.

Will’s hand lashed out to block the door before Nico could shut it. He was mouthing something, but Nico couldn’t look at his lips, at the lips that brushed against his the last time they were alone together.

“Go away.” Nico said out loud, determination to get away from the other boy willing him to speak despite how insecure it made him.

Will shook his head and stepped forward, putting his foot in the door instead of his hand so he could sign to Nico. Nico let go of the door so he could open it wider and see what Will was signing.

I was out of line, Nico. Will’s hands moved in smooth gestures, more practised than Nico had seen them last. I am so sorry and I don’t blame you if you hate me. Just please don’t ignore me. We can be just friends, but I can’t handle you not talking to me.

Nico’s heart pounded a rhythm against his chest, the irregular and violent beats stopping him breathing and thinking. He wanted to reply but words ailed him in that moment. Suddenly anything he could say to Will didn’t seem enough because he was there in front of Nico and all he could think of was how Will’s lips felt against his own and the way Will’s arms crossed over his chest when he pulled away to reveal the words Nico had never heard from anyone but Hazel.

Will’s face fell from hopeful to heartbroken. I get it. Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I understand why you hate me. Nico shook his head, but Will either didn’t notice or didn’t think much of it. Just don’t think bad of the times we had together. Okay?

Nico opened his mouth, but no words - no vibrations - escaped past his lips. Will gave him a soft smile and moved his fist in a small circle over his heart before taking a step back, turning away from Nico before the dark haired boy could object.

Will was half way down the driveway before Nico could react. He must have called out Will’s name because he turned around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Nico walked quickly towards him, hands out in front of him as he strode towards Will.

I don’t hate you, Will. Nico signed hurriedly, hands shaking with the energy that flooded through his body. I was just scared. I have never done anything like that before. But I didn’t hate it or you. I just have to take it slow.

Will’s face broke into a wide smile as he nodded, signing frantically to Nico that he was fine as long as he got to speak to him. Nico tried to pretend the warmth that spread through him was because of the sun beating down on him and not the boy who seemed a hundred times brighter than anything Nico had ever seen.

Headless

Hiccup is feeling the strain and it’s up to Astrid to straighten him out. 

“He’s still out there Astrid,” Hiccup says, frowning into the black waves far below them.

“And you not sleeping isn’t going to change that,” Astrid says very sensibly.

Hiccup isn’t interested in making sense of anything at the moment. He shrugs and glances over his shoulder at his slumbering dragon, curled up nose to tail on a warm patch of scorched earth.

“If Drago ever tries to attack again, all of Berk’s dragons will rise up against him,” Astrid continues, still very sensibly.

Hiccup is barely listening. His head is pounding and his eyes are burning from lack of sleep. He glances at Toothless again, wanting nothing more than to fly away from Berk as far and as fast as possible, maybe find a nice deserted island somewhere where he can forget everything. Except he can’t do that. He’s the Chief. He has responsibilities.

“A Chief protects his own,” he murmurs, resting his heavy forehead on his drawn up knees.

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4

[Part of the TenToo Adventures series]

I’m sorry if this didn’t turn out exactly “hot”; hope you still like it, anyway ;)

I had some ideas for the background of this scene in mind, a portrayal of the situation and how things built up to it from Tentoo’s point of view, and decided to write them down in a sort of ficlet (if you can even really call it that - it’s mostly silliness ;)).

You can find it under the “read more” cut as a bonus which doesn’t necessarily have to be read, since the comic also works as a standalone.

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[Pete/Michael]

buddingfarmer:

*jumps from his voice then quickly turns around to see him*

Don’t scare me like that;;; *has a few tears in his eyes*
*wipes away tears* Don’t call me short! *pouts*

A.. anyway, I’m just travelling for a while to check out farms and new land. My name’s Pete Parker, and you are?

[Smirks and throws his arm around him]  Awww, I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean nothing by it! Here have a chip - 

[Offers him the bag with a silly grin on his face. Wow, I can’t believe he cried so easily, at least I know Halloween for him is a deadly holiday.]

Pete, huh? Are you a farmer too? [His eye twitches a bit when asked his name]…Call me Michael, yeah. This isn’t my farm though, I mean I live and work here but it doesn’t belong to me.  

Bad Luck

@theyhideinthedark

Some days were good days. Some days Naomi would finish school knowing nothing was waiting for her at home because everyone except her sister was going to be out all night. It was on those days that the older teen would exit the school building, look around, and have no clue what she wanted to do today. It was great. 

Well, she didn’t feel like going home yet. The house would be empty while her sister was still at practice, so Naomi decided to head into town. A visit to some friends sounded nice! Most parents wouldn’t agree, since it was an empty, shabby building with a bunch of unruly young adults who thought it was funny to decorate public buildings with art that, despite its profane nature, was “strangely” not given permission to be put there. Among other things, of course. Naomi slipped into the first floor with ease, grinning at one of her friends, and then immediately getting into a fun fighting match with them.

If you’re feeling stuck, stressed, or angry and your thoughts are running wild, try dropping your awareness about a foot and start thinking from your heart. When you’re in your head, your thoughts are unorganized and raw and often don’t provide the clarity you need or want. Thinking from your heart allows those wild and unruly thoughts of the mind to quiet down, and for you to get the valuable insight, and often peace, that you need.
—  Ashley Barnes
Darkness Becomes Light

‘Observe the changes that take place in your mind under the light of awareness. Even your breathing has changed and become “not-two” (I don’t want to say “one”) with your observing self. This is also true of your thoughts and feelings, which, together with their effects, are suddenly transformed. When you do not try to judge or suppress them, they become intertwined with the observing mind.

From time to time you may become restless, and the restlessness will not go away. At such times, just sit quietly, follow your breathing, smile a half smile, and shine your awareness on the restlessness. Don’t judge it or try to destroy it, because this restlessness is you yourself. It is born, has some period of existence, and fades away, quite naturally. Don’t be in too big a hurry to find its source. Don’t try too hard to make it disappear. Just illuminate it. You will see that little by little it will change, merging, becoming connected, with you, the observer. Any psychological state which you subject to this illumination will eventually soften and acquire the same nature as the observing mind.

Throughout your meditation, keep the sun of your awareness shining. Like the physical sun, which lights every leaf and every blade of grass, our awareness lights our every thought and feeling, allowing us to recognize them, be aware of their birth, duration, and dissolution, without judging or evaluating, welcoming or banishing them. It is important that you do not consider awareness to be your “ally,” called on to suppress the “enemies” that are your unruly thoughts. Do not turn your mind into a battlefield. Do not have a war there; for all your feelings - joy, sorrow, anger, hatred - are part of yourself. Awareness is like an elder brother or sister, gentle and attentive, who is there to guide and enlighten. It is a tolerant and lucid presence, never violent or discriminating. It is there to recognize and identify thoughts and feelings, not to judge them as good or bad, or place them into opposing camps in order to fight with each other. Opposition between good and bad is often compared to light and dark, but if we look at it in a different way, we will see that when light shines, darkness does not disappear. It doesn’t leave; it merges with the light. It becomes the light.

A while ago I invited my guest to smile. To meditate does not mean to fight with a problem. To meditate means to observe. Your smile proves it. It proves that you are being gentle with yourself, that the sun of awareness is shining in you, that you have control of the situation. You are yourself, and you have acquired some peace. It is this peace that makes a child love to be near you.’

- Thich Nhat Hanh, The Sun My Heart.

It is important that you do not consider awareness to be your “ally,” called on to suppress the “enemies” that are your unruly thoughts. Do not turn your mind into a battlefield. Do not have a war there; for all your feelings—joy, sorrow, anger, hatred—are part of yourself. Awareness is like an elder brother or sister, gentle and attentive, who is there to guide and enlighten.
—  Thich Nhat Hanh