#✒️writing tag✒️

[nyxthedragon225]

“Hey, Chip. You're dating Gill, right?”

Chip looked up in confusion and nodded. “You’ve seen me kiss her, Jay.”

“And we're dating, right?” Jay continued, unfazed by any actual logic.

“Pretty sure you’ve seen me kiss you too, so yeah.” Chip set his pen down fully from where he was writing logs to look at her fully.

“Okay. So does that make me and Gill, like, partners-in-law?” She set up her request with that line, holding her breath while Chip answered.

Chip hummed in thought and nodded. “I guess so.”

“What if I don't want that?” She was stalling. She was very definitely stalling and she was very very close to rambling but everytime she tried to actually say it, she felt her throat close up.

“Jay, honey, what are you saying?” Chip furrowed his brows. Jay took a deep breath.

“I think I’m in love with Gill,” she blurted.

[written-in-the-clouds]

part 1

notes: i am so eepy but i just finished editing this so here it is <3

To most, you seemed to be Quirkless. No visual differences, no flashy Emitter ability, just an average person.

Still, you didn’t have that toe joint.

You frowned at a bag of chocolate, trying to decide if the price was worth it. Faintly, the store bell tinkled as someone stepped inside. The day was darkening, blue fading to orange fading to black. You exhaled, replacing the bag on the shelf. There were four other customers in the store and the cashier, excluding the one who had just entered. Someone sucked in a sharp breath, and another shrieked. You lifted your head.

The new patron had neatly trimmed black hair, a clean-shaven face, and a small smile. He surveyed the room silently as people stepped back, pressing themselves to shelves, fumbling for their phones, an air of panic rising. You blinked, frowned. 

Someone murmured, “What is that?!” and that’s when you realized that this must be a Quirk. The stranger stepped toward the counter as the cashier paled and raised an arm in a vain attempt to shield themself. A stupid plan began to formulate in your head as you noted the fear-paralyzed figures around them. You sent a message to the first chat you had open and walked out from the shelves.

Anxiety prickled at your neck and you swallowed it down harshly. The well-groomed stranger turned to you, grin sharpening and then suddenly fading when you didn’t react.

“Bravery or foolishness?” he mused quietly, as if not expecting you to hear. “Everyone has different reactions to fear.”

“What are you talking about?” you replied immediately, and surprise flashed through his face. You stepped between him and the counter.

He tipped his head. “You can see me?”

You didn’t respond, instead asking, “What do they see?”

He raised his arms from his sides in a sweeping motion. “Whatever they fear most.” A smile crossed his lips again, and he bowed slightly with his arms still extended. “But I am certain that you do not fear me most.”

It was because of your Quirk, of course. Your Quirk was called Null. Quirks were useless against you – at least, the majority of Emitters and a few others. You saw this man’s true form. For a moment, you wondered what you would have seen. Yet, your Quirk could not be deactivated, and it was a thought you discarded.

“What do you want from this shop?” you asked.

“Money, of course,” he said smoothly. “Whatever reason my Quirk isn’t affecting you – You seem like a smart kid. Get out of my way.”

You took a shaky breath. “No, thank you.”

Whatever polite air surrounded this man sharpened in an instant. “Hm,” he said, taking a step closer. “Last chance. Don’t play hero, kid.”

“I’m not a hero,” you said. “But I think you should leave.”

He pulled out a thin, sharp blade from his coat. “You know,” he said, taking another step closer, “I generally don’t like to hurt kids.”

A knife is buried in your left pant pocket. You could feel it against your leg. Yet between the amount of time it would take you to reach it, and the distance to this stranger’s blade – you couldn’t risk it. Your hands were shaking too much, anyway.

He took another step, and you did something stupid.

You tackled him.

His legs, to be specific. He was taller, and the knife – you aimed for his legs to bring him to the ground. It wasn’t your smartest move, in hindsight. He immediately sliced the knife along your back, and you felt a shriek rip from your throat, the pain unexpected. It burned along your spine.

In a wave of animalistic instinct you bit his thigh, hard, and he grunted. The reaction spurred you on, and you hit and kicked and struggled to keep him on the ground with you. You felt more hot blood trickle down your neck, but adrenaline and desperation kept you from feeling the majority of the pain.

It bought you time, and that’s what you needed. The bell by the door rang. When you glanced up, you saw a blinding red light and a static pain spread through your skull and 

Your vision went black.

When you woke up again, you jerked to an upright position before a hand stopped you. 

“Don’t move too much,” the man advised in a quiet voice. When you blinked the spots from your vision, you recognized him immediately and flinched back. Eraserhead. He glanced over your shoulder. “Have you called the ambulance?”

“Ah��� no, don’t call them,” you said quickly. You felt a bandage wrapped around your back and shoulders. “I can’t– uh. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. You still need medical attention, kid.” You stiffened, remembering what the stranger had called you. “What did you even do?”

“Uh.” You grinned sheepishly. “I kinda charged at him.”

“You what?” came a second voice, which quickly stepped into view. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, with messy indigo hair and deep eyebags. He wore a scarf — capture weapon, you corrected yourself — similar to Eraserhead’s. A hero trainee, almost certainly. “Why?”

“I didn’t think it out very well.”

“Clearly,” Eraserhead added dryly. 

“What else was I meant to do? Let him take the money?”

“That would have been preferable,” the villain said in a soft lilt, smiling, and the trainee with indigo hair glared at him. He was tied up carefully, with cuffs on his wrists. He looked away and sighed.

“You should have kept him distracted until the heroes arrived,” Eraserhead said. You frowned.

“I tried that,” you said. “He was the one who brought a knife out.”

Eraserhead sighed. “The police will be here in five minutes, the paramedics in…” he looked up to the trainee.

“Ten,” he replied. He shrugged. “There’s traffic.”

“Right. I won’t make you repeat your story twice, so let’s wait until the police arrive.”

The goggles covered the direction his eyes were facing, so you couldn’t tell who he was addressing. You nodded anyway, slightly dizzy.

When the police arrived, they took the stranger into the car and a detective spoke with you. At some point you both had moved outside the store, though you were still lightheaded and wavered slightly with each step. 

“I’m Tsukauchi Naomasa,” he said. “Walk us through what happened.”

“I’m [Name],” you replied. “I was shopping, and this guy walked in. I didn’t notice anything until people started freaking out. Um, I just thought… I don’t know. Something was weird. I texted my friend to call the police or something… and I, uh, I stepped out in front of them. He mumbled something to himself, and I replied to it, and he was surprised that I could see him.”

“Do you know why you could see him?” the detective interrupted. His brow was furrowed.

“Oh, right,” you said. “My Quirk. It’s called Null. It prevents other Quirks like that one from working on me.” 

“Mm,” Tsukauchi said, face relaxing. “Continue.”

“He told me to move out of the way so he could take the money, I guess, and I, I didn’t.” You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight. I was just thinking I need to hold him off until somebody shows up. And he pulled out a knife, and I tackled him.” Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t say anything. “And he cut me, and I just started, uh… it sounds so stupid now that I’m admitting it,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Tsukauchi reassured. “We all do stupid things in high risk situations.”

“I just did anything I could to keep him down,” you said. “Biting and kicking and whatever. And then the heroes showed up, and���” you hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Eraserhead. You had a theory that his Quirk, trying to cancel yours, had created a feedback loop of sorts that led to the static and your passing out. But if that was true, wouldn’t he have felt the effects, too? “I properly realized I was still bleeding and then I passed out, I guess,” you finished lamely.

“Hmm,” the detective said, but was interrupted by a man hurrying over.

“I heard someone was injured?” he asked, and you raised your hand slightly. He stepped over to them and Tsukauchi walked away, murmuring something to Eraserhead. “This might feel a little uncomfortable,” the healer warned, placing a hand on your back. 

“Ah,” you said, realizing what he was going to do. “Your quirk… won’t work. Mine cancels it out.”

He frowned, slightly, and didn’t move his hand before he must have tried and failed to use his quirk. “Well… you’re already bandaged. Let me check.”

After a moment of adjusting the bandages and advising you to be careful, you push yourself to your feet. You glanced quickly over to Tsukauchi and Eraserhead, who seemed to be deep in conversation. “Have a good night.” 

You speed-walked away, until the trainee stepped in front of you. “You should wait,” he said, looking as tired as you felt. “Tsukauchi…”

You gestured at the darkening sky. “I have to be back before sundown. My mom will be worried.”

“I can drive you home,” Tsukauchi said, glancing over. “I need to talk with your parents.”

You swallowed a groan. Your mother would almost certainly – and probably rightfully – chew you out for walking directly into harm’s way like that. Unfortunately, taking the ride was probably the best idea. You agreed, and got into the car with the detective. You checked your phone, and the message you had sent just before stepping out from the shelves.

sunnydays > call cops [address] villain

lavendereyes > what??

lavendereyes > they’re on their way

lavendereyes > sun? you alr?

The texts had stopped after that. You typed another message quickly.

sunnydays > fine now. only got lightly stabbed

lavendereyes > you what???

sunnydays > im fiiiine i got patched me up whatever

lavendereyes > ok but other than that are yoi fine

sunnydays > yeah

sunnydays > in the cop car going home

lavendereyes > ok, message me when you get home

sunnydays > alright

You slid their phone back into your pocket and leaned against the window. Tsukauchi was quiet, only looking back at you in the mirror a few times.

“That was brave, you know,” he said suddenly, and you stiffened.

“Not really,” you said. “It was stupid to attack him like that.”

“‘Brave’ and ‘stupid’ aren’t mutually exclusive.”

You snorted. “Fair enough.”

The city rushed by. The sky darkened further. The car slowed and pulled into the driveway, and you ran a hand through your hair. 

Your mother opened the door and came hurrying down the steps, up to the car. Tsukauchi stepped out of the car and you followed soon after.

“What happened?” she asked. 

Tsukauchi explained quickly, and a small frown settled on your mother’s face. “Well, at least you’re alright,” she settled on, eventually. 

Tsukauchi bowed slightly to you and your mother, and you quickly bowed back. “You seem like a good kid,” he said to you. “Just try not to get stabbed again.” He smiled, before waving slightly and climbing in his car to leave.

You walked over and hugged your mother, sighing into her hold. “You are alright, right?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “Just… tired.”

“Let’s eat dinner, and then you can go to bed,” she said. You nodded, and you both went inside.

[maenjiro]

cookiE and cream 𖦹 headcanons

ft. wakasa x afab!reader

synop + cw: wakasa and his oral fixation aka pussy drunk wakasa is the best wakasa. oral (reader receiving) and everything that may come with that

a/n: hmu if this is any good

old news but this man has THE oral fixation

so he dives in, he takes without asking. anywhere, anytime no matter what.

the gym, mostly the changing rooms otherwise he knows his friend would give him shit for it also he really is trying to be more mindful of other people but again, he has no shame when he's hungry

his house, your house, any place you can have some alone time

he makes you wet with all the shit he’s saying about eating you out

might not even be something extremely dirty but he’s so straight forward he can make you pretty flustered.

gets all frantic when he needs his mouth on you but you're wasting time talking

might pin you against the wall and just get on his knees

lift one of your legs on his shoulder to have more access, closes his eyes and the first moan he lets out is pure bliss

your legs shaking will never be enough for him to stop

or on the bed when he's on top of you, this bitch would lower his head down to kiss you and stop abruptly smirking “whoops, wrong lips”

next thing you know he has your legs on his shoulder and is worshipping your cunt

the rare times he's not in a frenzy to have his tongue make circular motion between your folds he will spread them with his fingers and smile at the sight

low breathy moan against your pussy

moves his tongue like he's starving, he is pussy drunk and he shows it

makes sure his tongue is keeping you all wet and hot

he's messy yet very precise, he knows where to lick and how much pressure will make you see stars

also will prod at your hole with his thumb and keep teasing you around your entrance with feathery touch that will make you clench around nothing (the bastard will smirk against you)

soo i bet he has some tooth rotting nicknames for you and i swear i know he would non ironically call you oreo... and you would tell him to stop calling you that

and he looks at you almost offended “not when i have your legs spread open for me and i’m about to lick your cr-” either you cover your face with the pillow or push his head against your core

endless cycle of him sucking on your clit and poking it with his tongue

overstimulates you and he doesn't even do that on purpose he just loses tracks of time (will make you cum at least three times i'm sorry but i don't make the rules, he does)

you can't even pull away cause his grip on your legs is tight, holding onto your thighs for dear life not to spiral

i wouldn't be surprised if he ended up falling asleep between your thighs

[rotting-inkblot]

Wasted Nights

Pairing(s): (Seemingly) One-sided Barry/Rafe Cameron

Summary: No matter how annoying he is, and how much he wants to hate him, Barry cannot stop thinking of the Cameron boy while alone in his bed at night.

Warnings: Referemced drug use and self-medication, smut, violent sexual fantasies (including blackmail, threats of violence, dacryphilia, non-con, blood kink, gun kink, knifeplay, extreme sadism, fearplay, virginity/innocence kink and corruption kink.)

Additional Tags: Masturbation, male solo, love/hate, (not actually) unrequited lust, insomnia, sex toys, Barry's fascination with Rafe Cameron's eyes, hand/finger kink, sexual fantasies (including facefucking, rough oral sex, handjobs, hair-pulling, begging), clean up, pubic hair, sleep, tiredness, sleep deprivation, mess, pre- or during season 1.

1.8k words / oneshot

That boy’s infuriating. And yet here Barry lays, alone in his bed, stamping out his second joint and still thinking about him instead of sleeping. Not like he could sleep, the weed usually aided a little but now it’s just worsening the thoughts keeping him awake in the first place. Makes him linger on ones he’d usually shove away like the person who put them there, on the ones that feature the Cameron boy front and centre. The boyish smile that makes him sick, glassy eyes that always looked ready to shed tears, those fucking lips that he always had to make a conscious effort not to stare at. Fuck. He wanted to see him cry. Well, wanted to be the cause of it, instead of whatever richboy bullshit he’s always whining about. Give him a real reason. It’s too late for this shit.

[chipsonthemenu]

i should GAAASP

okay so i'm working on an scu fic and if i said a driving plot point for it i'd spoil it but i think i may tie some genloss into it. like flashes of it, flashes of another timeline. just for mr charlie slimecicle :3

[foxytonics-quill]

“Dazzle the eyes, sparkle and shine, remain in small traces until the end of time!”

He’d learned it as a prank some months ago, a harmless trick to inflict infinite inconvenience upon an unsuspecting rival. That was all it was meant to be. Until, of course, he learned that he could actually aim it. Luca, being the chaotically meticulous young mage that he was, instantly became obsessed. Any and all free time he had after class was dedicated to testing the limits of the whimsical spell in a controlled environment and cleaning up the aftermath with a wave of his hand.

Should he have been studying for his final exam? Most assuredly! Could he be bothered to do so? Not a chance. He’d always been a good test taker, despite his lack of studying, and was confident that this one would be no more difficult to ace. All of his instructors and mentors warned him otherwise, as did many of his fellow students. Not friends. He didn’t really have any of those. Didn’t need them, either. Still, a few of his more outgoing classmates felt the need to nag him about ‘the biggest and most challenging exam of his entire career!’, like it was actually a big deal, or something. Nothing they said or did had an effect on him. Luca Rosepuff refused to be psyched out by some run-of-the-mill test.

He wasn’t nervous in the slightest.

Not until he finally had a run-in with his opponent the morning of the trial, who nonchalantly reminded him that they were to engage in a duel. A practical exam, not a written one. Actual spells being flung left, right, and center. In that instant, Luca finally understood why everyone had been harping on him to study instead of goofing off, mentally kicking himself for not remembering or listening to them earlier.

The hours leading up to the trial were agonizing; he was too much of an anxious wreck to pay attention to the previous duels, so caught up in worrying about what the fuck he was going to do that he nearly missed his name being called by the proctor. Everything seemed so overwhelming! The lights, bright and intense! The cacophony of cheers from the crowd and rebounding spells! Even his own panicked thoughts were too much to bear. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Axel’s heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder to shake him out of his stupor.

Time was up.

It was now or never, and if he couldn’t come up with a sound strategy, he’d just have to fly by the seat of his silky, audacious, purple pants.

He got up, squared his shoulders, and allowed himself to be led out of the audience and down to the stage at the center of the coliseum. The significance of that stuck in his mind. This wasn’t just a test of skill; it was also a performance, with himself and his opponent as the players, and Luca had always prided himself on being an entertainer. Even if he couldn’t win, why not at least put on a good show? Dodge and weave and misdirect, like he’d always done when showing off with parlor tricks? Perhaps he could even make use of the glitter spell somehow!

By the time he was escorted to his spot on the stage, Luca had regained some semblance of his cocky attitude, even bowing flamboyantly when he was introduced by the MC, which earned him uproarious applause. His opponent, Wren Pepperbutter, was not so amused. In contrast to Luca’s ostentatious jewel-toned getup, pink and black fluffy mohawk, striking eyeliner, and gaudy jewelry, she wore a simple crimson cloak with the hood up, concealing all but her intense expression. He appeared to have recovered from her earlier attempt at throwing him off his game, and that annoyed her greatly. Good. Let her be angry. It would likely make her sloppier and easier to trick.

“What’s with the long face, Wren?” he taunted, smirking in his classically infuriating fashion. “You didn’t think I’d back out, did you? With a chance to play before an audience of this size?” She growled in response and summoned her blackened wooden staff, whipping a blazing fireball at his head, which he just managed to duck out of the way of. “Surely, you had to have been dreaming!” That earned him another fireball, which he sidestepped, and his tittering laugh brought on an onslaught of hexes and curses that he had to dive to avoid. This duel was getting to be even dicier than he’d previously imagined! If he was going to make a move, he’d have to do it quickly, and make sure it counted. Still grinning like a fool, he finally summoned his own staff, a beautiful thing hand crafted from purpleheart amaranth and a large chunk of obsidian, and playfully declared, “You’re a crafty one indeed, but I’m willing to bet that I can fell you with a singular spell! What say you to that, fair songbird?”

Naturally, Wren only intensified her attacks, giving Luca the opening he’d been waiting for. He let a cry ring out from his mouth, feigning like he’d been hit by a particularly nasty hex that she’d unleashed, and crumpled to the ground in a heap. Wren was the vengeful sort, a dark sorceress with a reputation for showing nothing but cruelty to those who challenged her, and Luca hoped to whatever gods were watching that she hadn’t suddenly developed a conscience.

Judging by the the ominous clacking of her heels against the charred wooden stage growing closer and closer, she hadn’t. Perfect. Mentally, he counted down her steps, timing out exactly how long it would take her to get to him, then frantically began muttering out the incantation under his breath.

“Dazzle the eyes.”

Five. Four.

“Sparkle and shine.”

Three.

“Remain in small traces…”

Two.

“Until the end of time.”

One!

She was directly over him now, mouth open and snarling out a spell to finish him off, but was cut off when he suddenly unleashed a blast of glitter directly into her face. Initially, he’d merely intended to blind her, or to use it as a makeshift smokescreen, but her determination to end his life then and there had inspired his own brutal streak.

Luca rose to his feet as he watched her choke on the multitude of sparkling metal flecks. No doubt the glitter would ruin her lungs. The audience, which he’d admittedly forgotten about for a hot minute, was roaring with cheers and applause, which only got louder when he gracefully took a bow. The proctors for exam even gave him a high score for only having to use one spell, stating that duels were about more than sheer power. He went along with it, only allowing his confident persona to slip and shatter once he was alone, staring back at his horrified reflection in a bathroom mirror.

“Never…never again,” he swore to himself, shaking as he gripped the sink. “I never want to duel another mage. Ever! H-holy shit, that was…fuck! That was terrifying!” It went down in the university’s history as one of the most epic duels ever. Luca preferred to try and forget it.

As a mage, your last test is to battle with another student with your magic. The only spell you memorize (before the duel) correctly is to summon craft glitter!

[novanhistorian]

The Fundamentals

Finally, I get around to introing the blog. If you like this, there’s more: I posted two of five(?) parts of a summary of history today.

I am here to talk about the Imperium Novel, which I must immediately clarify is not a novel. What it actually is is a rather massive and intricate worldbuilding project. Now, I could tell you that its name is a relic of the earliest days of its development, when it was really to be one novel with an increasingly cartoonish amount of backstory, and that would be true enough; but the heart of the matter is that I am a painfully pretentious artiste in this specific way. I could have changed the name; I didn’t.

(As for why it is no longer a single novel: As I write this, the [pseudo]historical period I concern myself with covers almost fifteen centuries, most of them quite complicated. Any attempt to cover the whole in one novel would wind up a gargantuan, winding, likely quite boring mess possessing more pages than a medical textbook and less plot than a wet blanket.)

Anyhow, hard segue.

The other basics you need to know are the following:

We are not in our solar system. References to the sun are to the star Scientia (to us, Era Cassiopeiae A), and references to Forsuno or the Far Sun refer to, well, Forsuno (Eta Cassiopeiae B).

The main planet, Terranovo,* has twenty-six-hour days and slightly stronger gravity than Earth. Its days are the standard in most other regions; we are ignoring Ilajn for now because I haven’t formally named their planet. (It has 21.5-ish-hour days and markedly weaker gravity. Let’s hear it for large, fast-rotating terrestrial planets.)

All the planets we care about after 2300 orbit Scientia, and—at the risk of misrepresenting the gravitational dance—the orange dwarf Forsuno basically does too. Scientia’s stellar classification is G0 V, which is to say that it is more or less like our sun, though slightly brighter. Forsuno’s is K7 V, which makes it either an orange or a red dwarf, depending on which classification system one follows. Basically, it’s small, it’s dim (only 6% of the Sun’s luminosity, still far brighter than a full moon), and it will live a very long time after Scientia is dead. Although their orbit is very eccentric (that is to say very elliptical rather than circular), the closest approach between the stars is 36 AU, or just this side of the Kuiper Belt; this allows for stable, although compact, planetary systems around both stars safe from the worst of the gravitational interference of the other star.

Novanity (non-collective singular novan and plural novans) is the sapient species the Novel follows for most of its history. They are, as many of them will bitterly tell you, the products of genetic engineering and a whole lot of moral stupidity on the parts of various humans—but we shall get to that in the history.

* At other points in its history, Terranovo was also known as Terra Nova, Terranova, Tero Nova, and Nova Tero. By the current working date, 745, variation is only historical.

The gender trinary is probably the most relevant thing in here besides the location, but thanks to narrative flow I have to put it down here. The three novan genders occupy roughly the same position as the human two, which is to say that the majority of the population falls into one or another, but there are a large number of outliers besides.

Two of the dominant genders are descendants of our concepts of male and female, and they remain mostly similar and are called by their names. The third is called sendua (an adjective), and people who have it are called senduoj. Its name derives from a shortening of senduuma, a rather nonstandard way of saying “nonbinary;”* it somewhat evolved from the use of the word as an overcategory for a variety of genders,

* It literally means “without a binary;” the human standard, neduuma, is a calque from English.

If you encounter something like Ĉlr or Nŝx/n, that’s reference shorthand, a standardized system used in the Imperium (with War-Era predecessors); it tells you a person’s gender and pronouns, and sometimes their preferred grammatical gender and physical sex.

The capital letters stand for gender and are derived from the gendering suffixes in the Imperium’s dominant language: Ĉ stands for male, N for female, S for sendua, and X (from crossing out the category on a form) for anything else. The lowercase letters, of which there are often more than one, stands for pronouns: l for li, the equivalent of “he;” ŝ for ŝi, “she;” r for ri, “re;” and x for anything else (which is quite rare, but in practice means “ask”).

The lowercase letter after the slash, if it exists, describes grammatical gender—and boy do I wish English had a shorter way to say that. The Imperium’s dominant language is largely non-gendered, and for words which could be gendered—titles, professions, and so on—the default is to use the genderless base word rather than add on one of the gendered suffixes. But some titles are routinely declined by gender, and several minor languages gender their adjectives at a minimum and their verbs at a maximum. As a result, some portion of the population has a preference about which gender is used, and that’s usually denoted like this. (The letters themselves follow the same rule as the actual gender indicator, and good lord have I said “gender” a lot of times in this paragraph.)

Occasionally, an italicized x or y or a centered asterisk, placed after the pronouns, indicates physical sex. The x and y, mean roughly what one would expect—XX or XY chromosomes respectively, without any sort of intersex condition. The asterisk, which in some state governments has subcategories, indicates that the person is intersex. Sex is mostly irrelevant in social life, so its denotation is circumscribed to medical and governmental records.

As you may have guessed by now, the dominant language is Esperanto—or, well, a version of Esperanto that’s evolved like a (fairly regulated) natural language for a millennium and a half. Some people speak one or more of the so-called “minor languages,” usually regional dialects descended from natlangs.

There are two different calendars in use over the course of the Novel, one that continues roughly directly from the Gregorian calendar and is dated relative to the traditional year of birth of Jesus Christ and another dated relative to the Year of Fortifying the Peace (the official end of the War Era, covered in the last two sections of the Sketch of History).

The first or human calendar can be identified because it will almost always have a four-digit year, and in cases where it doesn’t it gets labeled (B.)C.E. The second or novan calendar can usually be identified by having a three-digit year, or else because it uses a minus sign to indicate its negatives. It may also be distinguished by the ᴊ (from jaro, “year”) that precedes single- and double-digit years, as well as any three-digit years that require disambiguation. The novan calendar has a year zero; this is, as can probably be predicted, the Year of Fortifying the Peace.

Technically there are four major dating systems (standard, human, Terranovan orbital, and Ilajnaplaneta orbital). The orbital calendars exist because neither of the inhabited planets have years particularly close to 365 days, so their seasons are wildly out of sync with the administrative calendars. I should probably also note that neither planet has 24-hour days, and that the administrative calendars are standardized on the 26-hour Terranovan day.

I think that’s about it. I’ll write up instructions on how to pronounce all the random Esperanto words soon; for now, the vowels are like Spanish and the J makes a Y sound.

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ TO BE LOVED. dazai, akutagawa, fyodor, yosano & reader (separate) !

synopsis. what is it like, to be loved by them? contents. could be read as platonic love or romantic love. (you can deeply love your friends, fight me. /j) bsd-typical warnings. religious themes in fyodors. non-linear? idk. gn!reader. 0.6k words. notes. i'm blaming @rainswept for this, yapping with you has cured my writer's block. also i'm sorry if this doesn't make a lot of sense or is terribly ooc, i'm very tired and have been thinking about poetry and love and this was the result.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ DAZAI — loves like it's going to be the death of him. It's a quiet, dull sort of love, a slow-acting poison that spread languidly through his body. From one limb to the next, little by little, it paralysed every part of him until the only sensation was a bitter, festering infection beneath the skin. Every touch, every smile... every part of it hurt, in ways he could never bring words too.

Yet he loves anyway, gritting his teeth through the pain and letting the sting settle under his skin. Poison wasn’t a stranger to him; it greeted him with the arms of a friend and the hands of a lover. He gets used to it after a while; he accustoms himself to the 'good mornings', and the touches that ghost his skin long after they've let go. Soon enough, the pain is as natural as breathing.

It’s soothing, in a mithridatic, vaguely masochistic kind of way. And sometimes when he loves, he feels as human as they are.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AKUTAGAWA — loves like he's a drowning man, reaching desperately for a hand to save him. His shouts are swallowed up by merciless waves, his breath is stolen from his lungs. He is desperate to grasp the touch of another—whether to save himself from his desolation, or as a last comfort before he is pulled under, even he doesn’t know. He only knows that he craves it, craves it with every screaming nerve in his body.

Adrenaline is pumping through his veins in every moment he lives, but when he loves, it is quiet. For once, desperation and despair are silenced, leaving only the hollow echo of his thoughts to accompany the sound of their voice. He clings to love like it is a lifeline, the only thing that is pumping blood through his veins and sending air through his fractured lungs.

By himself he is an empty, shell of a man pulled down by the current. Together, he breaks the surface of the water and begins to feel whole.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ FYODOR — loves like it is holy. The feeling is sacred, held close and tight to his chest. He looks to them and sees an angel descended down to grasp his blood-stained hands in their clean ones, he listens to their words and hears the heavens themselves sing. No touch has ever felt so pure as theirs, no person has ever felt so unworthy of the cruel world they occupy.

His existence is a life wrought with turpitude, but even his sinful state is close to salvaged when they smile before him. A love like that must be a gift from God Himself, so he cherishes it as such.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ YOSANO — loves like it is the only thing breathing life into her lungs. Illness is an old friend that has overstayed their welcome ten times over, but it seems to vanish almost entirely in their presence. Gone is the phantom presence of an injury healed twelve years prior, vanished are the memories that linger under her skin. She yearns for the relief that they provide; loving them, and loving them, and loving them until she feels breathless with vitality.

The bruises heal with a touch, the scars disappear with a glance. She loves with the desperation of a woman chasing one more year to add to her lifespan, craving the solace that they so sweetly give her. No longer is she an Angel of Death; she is the blessed, endowed with the most precious offering one could give.

Life is a gift—as she drills into the heads of her patients—and what kind of a lady would she be to turn away such a generous one as that?

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[seashore-winds]

and i look at the beautiful men

and i sigh not with envy

but heavy tiredness

not because i don't see my own beauty

but as a dream to be so easily seen as such.

the wonders

a pair of those eyes do

in such a hostile world.

[kandi-store]

salutations!

i'm kandi! i write, ramble, and more. currently learning about stuff i want to do and try out. will edit this as i go!

-------- tag list --------

💛: waxing poetic = pretty words! generally writing and poetry

💛: yearning hours = exactly what it says on the cover. can be platonic or romantic.

✨: starry-eyed = space-related content, scientific or otherwise

🐚: ocean hearted = ocean-related content, scientific or otherwise

💛: brushstrokes = any artwork

💛: writing references = prompts, tips, and etc for writing

💕: tag me next time = getting called out by a post

💛: magical! = self explanatory

💗: fun stuff! = polls, q&a's, etc

🧡: pretty things = generally pretty or interesting things I don't have a category for

[nyxthedragon225]

rolan was always so well put together, so handsome and disciplined. He had good manners and better grades, a perfect picture of the kind of guy you'd want to take home to your parents. Rand loved it when he was deep in his job, poring over some notes or textbooks, his face scrunching up in concentration and his glasses sliding down his nose. Rand loved it even more when he could get Rolan to relax and stop being so stuck up, loved seeing him lounging around the house in sweatpants and one of Rand's graphic tees, loved it when Rolan woke up late and shuffled into the kitchen mumbling something incoherent about his dreams. Rolan was gorgeous no matter what he did and Rand loved every bit of it.

Kian was always so effortlessly gorgeous, a certain kind of otherworldly beauty that made Rand lose his breath. He was smooth and seductive, always ready with a witty remark to sweep Rand off his feet and leave him red and gasping for air. Rand loved it when he took a hit of a blunt and the smoke framed his face, leaning back and eyes closed, a look of pure bliss on his face. Rand loved it even more when he was towering over Rand, backed him against a wall and tilted his chin up for a kiss. He loved it when Kian got lost in his music until he seemed to forget he had an audience, eyes focused on the guitar as deft fingers danced along the strings. Kian was a wonder, something incredible to behold, something so alien in his beauty that Rand could hardly believe he was allowed to exist near him.

And Rand was just that: Rand. Timothy Rand, a 30 year old homosexual stoner who lived in his parent's attic and didn't have a job. He was nothing, he was ungly and worthless next to them.

[almostfoxglove]

let's write some ANGST!

hey kids. we're back, as promised! some of you may remember the angst writing challenge I hosted in the summer and, well... what can I say? I love to suffer. so we're back to celebrate the new year and bring in 2025 with some BIG FEELINGS!

❤️‍🩹 rules

1. 📜 your fic must include angst, and at least one image OR the quote from your moodboard. how much angst is totally up to you - happy endings are allowed, but feel free rip my heart out, too :,) 2. ✅ entries are due by march 1st, 2025. if you need more time, just let me know!! the angst is for fiction only, not real life, so there's no stress here <3 be sure to tag your post #almostfoxgloveangst2 when it's done!

note: photos in the moodboards are just for vibes, and aren't intended to be prescriptive / representative of any characters in your piece.💗 you are welcome to write in any AU or canon universe you like! as usual, 18+ mdi!

❤️‍🩹 participants & masterlist below the cut!

ALL SPOTS HAVE BEEN CLAIMED!

📰 dave york - @guiltyasdave

⚔️ din djarin - @sawymredfox

🕒 din djarin - @djarinmuse

🦌 din djarin - @slimybeth69

🎯 din djarin - @burntheedges

⛓️‍��� din djarin - @saradika

👻 ezra - @morallyinept

🌼 frankie morales - @toomanystoriessolittletime

✉️ frankie morales - @amanitacowboy

🎻 javier peña - @quinnnfabrgay-writes

🌾 javier peña - @milla-frenchy

☎️ javier peña - @whocaresstillthelouvre

🚬 javier peña - @pedgito

🪖 javier peña - @iknowisoundcrazy

🌳 joel miller - @aurorawritestoescape

🔒 joel miller - @jolapeno

🕯️ joel miller - @gracieheartspedro

👑 joel miller - @schnarfer

🛑 joel miller - @evolnoomym

🐎 joel miller - @arcanefox207

🍷 lucien de leon - @gothcsz

🪙 marcus acacius - @myownwholewildworld

✒️ marcus acacius - @joelmillerisapunk

🚂 marcus pike - @secretelephanttattoo

🪦 max phillips - @jennaispunk

⛪ max phillips - @yopossum

🥀 oberyn martell - @galway-girlatwork

some mutuals & folks who showed interest in this challenge:

@jolapeno @luxurychristmaspudding @perotovar @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave

@galway-girlatwork @pedges-world @yxtkiwiyxt @yopossum @morallyinept

@inept-the-magnificent @schnarfer @burntheedges @ak-vintage @quinnnfabrgay-writes

@eupheme @amanitacowboy @whocaresstillthelouvre @itsokbbygrl @sp00kymulderr

@sugarcoated-lame @pedgito @aurorawritestoescape @toomanytookas @gothcsz

@encasedinobsidian @jessthebaker @joelmillerisapunk @myownwholewildworld @chronically-ghosted

@secretelephanttattoo @sawymredfox

[winterrrnight]

soft!rafe cameron x scholar!fem!reader 🖇️📚🖊️📓📑💌🗂️✒️

library and coffee dates. resting your head in his lap while reading. hugging him when the current assignment feels like pressure. surprised with huge flower bouquets on academic achievements. standing at your doorway with your favorite foods for your break. instagram stories of you studying. coffee stains on your notes. his jackets being a necessity in your outfits. cheering out loud for you when you get the diploma. taking you to the park for your study breaks. sharing earphones while listening to music. late night drives to help you clear your head. <3 (og post)

(I am hyperfixated over this trope so if anyone wants to write something inspired by this, please do!!! 🥹🥹 and defo tag me 🥰)

[funishment-time]

🎁 Day 13 of the DR Winter Gift Calendar has arrived with Celeste- and Hifumi-themed gifts!

(A masterlist of all gifts will be posted at the end of the event!)

🎰 CELESTIA - GIFT TAGS

okay, i love making gift tags. i would have done gift tags for literally Every Character if they didn't take me forever to design, even when working off a template. nonetheless, 3.5"x2" tags of the OG liar royalty, all for you!

💝 [download as zipped PNGs or a PDF] 💝

✒️ HIFUMI - DANGANRONPA FANFIC PROMPTS

next time you've got a writing block, keep this in your notebook or your Favorite PDFs Folder (you DO have one of those, don't you?!) and let Hifumi help you out. it measures exactly letter-sized (8.5x11") so it's perfect for binders and such. also, unrelated, Hifumi looks so cute in the various Danganronpa Mangas. round boy

💝 [download as zipped PNGs or a PDF] 💝

➡️ you may freely share, use, and edit these: just link back if you post them online!

[See other 2024 Winter Gift days at the tag #danganronpa❄️24!]

[riki-dazed]

welcome; ♡

masterlist · anon list

i want to highlight the fact that this blog is a safe space for everyone, be respectful, please keep any type of negativity and judgement off this acc

request guidelines

· i write smut with 18+ characters. please block if you're uncomfortable knowing that

· my main groups are in the tags. mostly writing about riki for now

· my prns are she/her, i feel most comfortable writing using those

· no member x member

what i won't write:

sa, abuse, underage, incest/stepcest, there will obviously be many other things. if i come across a request i do not want to write, i simply won't. don't worry about making me uncomfortable

-> pls read !!

✒️ to see short blurbs; #riki-dazed thoughts

📝 to see requests; #riki-dazed requests

💌 to see inbox replies; #riki-dazed chats

💕 to see my anons & their messages; #riki-dazed anons

please keep in mind that i may not get to writing everything that gets requested. i'm also a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing so it may take me a while, there will be times i post mutiple times a day, and sometimes nothing for a few days.. it all depends.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work without permission.

[mattnott]

APPRECIATION POST! ᥫ᭡

۶ৎ — hi hi! i’ve been noticing so much negativity and mean stuff on tumblr lately, so i thought i’d make a little treat for all my lovely mutuals and the amazing writers out there who work so hard on their projects! you guys mean so much to me!

۶ৎ — the activities are organized into fun categories with emojis, and you can pick one (or more) to send to my inbox (just please not all on the same ask). i’ll respond, and hopefully others will join in too!

WITH ALL SAID… WELCOME TO THE FEAST

✒️ — about you! tell me more about yourself or describe yourself using emojis, and i’ll create a personalized moodboard just for you!

🦢 — your works! send me an au or fic of yours, and i’ll create a moodboard inspired by it!

🔍 — new discoveries! tell me about one of your favorite stories you’ve written, and i’ll pick out my favorite quotes to discuss and gush over!

🎯 — send me this and i’ll match you with a character and explain why you remind me of them!

💌 — secret admirer time! this one is for everyone! send me an anonymous message on my inbox tagging someone and writing them a sweet note or compliment. i’ll pass it along to them so you can make their day better; without them knowing it’s you!

۶ৎ — this event will start on christmas day and last until the last week of january, but the secret admirer corner is already open, and you can send the asks already!

have fun, and be respectful! 💘