#I answer a bunch of personality quizzes as that character

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Literally this is how I get ‘into character’ when writing.

This is always on my list of ‘how to understand a character more’

Me religiously assigning tma fears to every character I see because im so normal about it :)

[darqx]

Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

--------------

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

[authorchariot]

the straight and narrow (or so he says)

rating: explicit ❤️

fandom: the nice guys (2016)

pairing: holland march x m!reader

word count: 6.4k+

content warning(s): dubious consent (via drunk sex)

tags: anal fingering, anal sex, closeted character, denial, drunk sex, established relationship, facials, fluff, friends to lovers, handjobs, hurt/comfort, internalised homophobia, mentions of vomiting (brief), not beta read, pov first person, premature ejaculation, rimming, sexual dysfunction, size kink, slurs, smut, spit as lube, substance abuse

summary: march has always been straight. 100%. 110, actually. though he has a funny way of showing it

for my hubby, @bludpudding 💛✨

read on ao3 or keep reading here ↓

College. The kind of place where you met people that would stick in your life forever, like a piece of broccoli that sticks between your teeth; whether you wanted them to or not.

I met Holland March when we were both eighteen and far too dumb to know it. He was a good-looking guy, I have no problems admitting that. We were taking the same physical education qualification; me, because I actually cared about the subject, and him, because he thought it'd be easy. Something about the coursework description made him think it was just running around a field, grading each other on how good we were at dodgeball and taking multiple-choice quizzes about the rules of soccer. Instead, he found himself trapped in a program that required anatomy classes, endurance tests and worst of all, communal showers with a bunch of sweaty, naked guys.

March was always a smartass, even then. He had this way of talking where every sentence sounded like he was setting up a punchline, even if there wasn't one coming. But underneath that, he was nervous. Twitchy. It started around the time we began the practicals, when we had to spend hours in the gym, watching each other's form, spotting for one another, or worse; getting undressed in the changing rooms with nowhere to hide. The first time I noticed something was wrong was after one of those sessions. The rest of us were joking around, towel-snapping, hyped up on adrenaline. March, though, was staring a little too long at things he wasn't supposed to be looking at. At first, I thought maybe he was just zoning out. But then his face would go red and he'd rip his eyes away like he was getting electrocuted.

The next thing I knew, he was drinking. A lot. At first, it was the usual college bullshit — cheap beer at house parties, sneaking flasks into lectures — but then it got worse. He started showing up to morning classes hungover or still half-drunk from the night before. He reeked of whiskey. He stopped eating much. And he threw himself into women like he was trying to prove something, showing off about every conquest like we were keeping score. He started reading Playboy mags in the cafeteria, insisting that he 'absolutely loved tits' and loudly announcing which female celebrity he'd fuck if given the chance.

"Guess how many times I fucked this chick last night." He'd say, elbowing me with a grin that never quite reached his eyes. I never answered. He didn't really want one.

There were nights he'd get so drunk that he'd start talking too much. "You ever wonder if—" He'd start and then catch himself. He'd look at me, wide-eyed, like he'd nearly stepped on a landmine, and then backtrack so fast it was almost impressive. "Nevermind, nevermind. Forget I said anything."

And then, just as suddenly, he'd be back to his usual routine. A different girl in his dorm-room every week. A loud, boisterous laugh at every joke. A too-casual, offhanded, "Man, women, huh? Love 'em. Can't get enough of 'em."

I should've called him out on it. Maybe I tried, once or twice, but he always had a way of twisting things, making a joke out of his own misery before anyone else could touch it. So I let him be. And he kept drowning himself in women and whiskey, hoping one of the two would finally fix him.

Years later, when we're both in our mid-thirties and life has kicked us around more times than I can count, March is still at it.

We both migrated to LA but we stayed in touch. He became a private investigator for some God-forsaken reason. He got a wife. Then a kid. Then a house-fire. Lost a wife. He spiralled. The drinking's worse. The bravado's more hollow. And, if anything, he's even more desperate to prove himself; to me, to the world, to some invisible jury that doesn't even fucking exist.

I don't buy it and, deep down, I know he doesn't either.

But he still tries. Probably a little too hard.

Which leads us up to now.

It's 4am on a Thursday morning when the phone on my nightstand rings. I blink the sleep from my eyes and roll over, looking at the clock-radio before picking the receiver off the cradle. I know who it is before I even hear his voice.

'Heyyyy... I'm fucked up, man. Really fucked up... Can you... Y'know, come get me? 'Cause I can't... Can't drive.'

Oh, God, not this again.

"March?" I sigh down the line, staring at the illuminated numbers on the Grandstand clock-radio on the bedside table. "It's fucking 4am."

'Shhh... I know. I know it's late. But I'm...not exactly thinkin' straight right now so... So can you pick me up or not? Please? For a friend?'

His speech is slurring and I can already imagine the drunken grin on his face. I sigh again and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Jesus... Fine, where are you?"

'The usual bar... You know the one. Shit... You're an angel. Seriously...'

He mumbles something I don't quite catch before there's a crash. Probably fallen over.

'Think I might throw up...'

I wrinkle my nose and roll my eyes. For a guy who drinks as much as him, he sure as Hell can't hold his liquor.

"Just...get it all out of your system before you get in my car, yeah? I just had it detailed the other week." I sigh and I instinctively hold the receiver away from my ear as I hear him starting to gag and retch. I put the phone down just as my own stomach starts to turn.

With a push, I haul myself up to the edge of my bed and pull on a pair of pyjama pants and a vest. It'll only take a little while to drive downtown at this hour, with no traffic on the roads.

About fifteen minutes later, I pull up outside the usual dive-bar in my Ford Mustang, where a shivering figure — which I correctly presume is March — is bent over in the alley, a hand braced on the wall. Cursing under my breath, I get out to see what the damage is.

"March?" I call out and, as I approach, I notice how awful he looks. His hair ruffled and messy, his shirt untucked, his face pale and his eyes bloodshot. He looks like shit and smells even worse. I shake my head and slide my shoulder under his arm, shifting his weight onto me. "C'mon. Up we go." He leans heavily on my side, barely able to stand on his own.

"Mmph... 'Ppreciate it." He mutters, his words still slurred.

I help him into the passenger seat, his long legs splaying awkwardly in the footwell, and buckle him in before closing the door and settling myself in the drivers seat.

"I swear to God, if you throw up in my car, I will end you." I grumble, pulling a box of mints from the glove compartment. He takes half the box and shoves them all in his mouth at once, crunching loudly.

"God... You mad?" He peeks at me as I turn the key in the ignition and start off down the street.

"Kinda." I reply flatly as I speed off in the direction of my little home in the suburbs. I hear him swallow the mouthful of mints and he's really not subtle about how he's ogling me. Maybe I can't blame him. It's been ages since he's seen me dressed down like this and I have filled out since college... Won't lie, it makes me feel kind of proud. Still, I'd rather not be driving through downtown LA at 4:22 in the morning. "Is Holly staying with someone?"

"Mhm... At her friend's house. Sleepover." He answers as he shifts in his seat. He's not the best dad. Honestly, when Holly says she's 'at a friends for a sleepover', that could mean literally anything. March is usually too drunk or hungover to keep track of her.

And he's still looking and it's real fucking obvious. I don't bring it up, though. It's been a while since I've seen him this bad and I'd really not rather make it worse by bringing up the fact that he's staring directly at my cock.

"When we get to mine, I'm getting you a glass of water, some deodorant and some clothes because, Jesus, you smell like a brewery next to an open sewer." I murmur pointedly and he laughs — no, giggles — as I pull into the cul-de-sac.

"Yeah, yeah, I smell like shit." He struggles to unbuckle himself as I put the Mustang in park, head over to his side and help him out, letting him lean on me as we head into the house.

It smells good inside; clean and warm and so much better than the scent of stale alcohol and cigarette smoke that clings to his clothes. Not that he can tell, of course.

I lock the door and help him through to my room, setting him on the edge of the bed. I fetch him a tall glass of water from the bathroom and a can of deodorant, holding out the glass to him.

"Drink." He takes the glass with unsteady hands and chugs it down before setting it heavily on the nightstand, which probably looked a lot further away than it actually is with his warped vision. I help him with his rumpled jacket as he kicks off his shoes. He stretches out on the bed, sprawling across it drunkenly and kicking weakly at his socks, trying to get them off but failing miserably.

"Goddamnit..." I help him peel off his socks and then start working on his shirt, which is soaked with cold sweat and spilt alcohol. I've done this plenty of times to know what he needs but his body seems even more uncooperative today. I shudder to think how much he's drunk.

Eventually, I toss all his clothes in the laundry hamper, leaving him naked. I pat him down with a towel and practically douse him in deodorant.

"You're having a a shower as soon as you get up." I tell him but he doesn't reply, instead swallowing hard. He's staring at my dick again. Walking over to the dresser, I pull open a drawer and look over the clothes folded neatly inside. "What do you want? Boxers? T-shirt?"

"Yeah, t-shirt." He says, voice unusually soft. I feel his eyes on me from across the room, raking over me. It's kind of nice to be appreciated so openly. I just wish it was when he was fucking sober. "Boxers too." I pluck one of each from the drawer and close it before heading back over.

"Here." They must smell like me; like Dial soap and a hint of Polo cologne. He can't smell, you remember. Oh, well. The knowledge seems to placate him nonetheless as he pulls the shirt over is head.

"Thanks." He murmurs and I grunt in approval, getting him another glass of water and setting it on the nightstand as I prepare a spot for him in my bed. I usually stick him on the couch but he's so out of it tonight, I don't trust him not to choke on his own vomit by tomorrow morning. I'll just keep an eye on him.

He manages to slide the boxers on, struggling a bit with his hand-eye coordination. Climbing into bed, he downs the second glass of water and I cross the room, slide into my side of the bed, pull up the covers and flip off the light. I catch a glimpse of the clock-radio before I lay back. It's 5:04. Jesus, March...

In the dark, the bed shifts as he turns toward me. "Hey..." He slurs, his voice thick and sleepy. I feel the heat radiating from his body as he inches closer.

"Hey." I close my eyes, trying to ignore how his thigh presses against mine under the covers. I'm already on the edge of the bed so I don't move away, just let him sidle up beside me. But that only encourages him. He shuffles closer, his arm snaking around my waist and his face burying in the crook of my neck. His stubble scratches at my throat and his hot breath fans across my shoulder. I feel him press himself against my hip and, for God's sake, he's hard. In my boxers. The nerve of this guy.

I huff out a breath. "March. What are you doing?"

"Mmph... Just cuddlin'..." He mumbles against my neck. His hands start to wander, fingers splayed over my chest. I feel his cock, hard, against my hip as he grinds against me. It sends a familiar heat blooming in the pit of my stomach but I try and squash the feeling down.

"You're gonna regret this in the morning." I tell him.

"Mmm... Doubt it." He nuzzles into my neck again, a hand sliding down my chest, fingers curling against my belly almost possessively. He wriggles closer, trying to get more contact between his erection and my hip. "You're warm..." I sigh because he has to be at least a little inebriated to be doing this kind of shit and I can't take advantage of him like that, even if I do know what he seems to deny; that he's gay as all Hell.

"March, get off or I'll put you on the couch."

"Noooo..." He clings onto me needily. I've never seen him like this before; so open and so...pathetic. It makes my chest ache a little. I wrap my arm around his shoulders, rubbing his back soothingly, trying my very best to keep this totally platonic, despite his cock jammed against my pelvis.

"What's got you all worked up, huh?" My voice softens and he snuggles against me. And then he says the most out of pocket shit I've ever heard from March (and that's saying something).

"Your dick... It looks big..." He mumbles against my neck, his voice barely audible. My body goes taut as I process the words that just came out of his mouth. "Wanna see it..."

"... What?" He pulls back slightly and just looks at me, his glazed eyes meeting mine in the dim moonlight that filters through the curtains. A crooked grin spreads across his face.

"I said I wanna see your huge fucking dick." I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving my arm from around him and looking him dead in the eye.

"March, I'm not showing you my dick." And he pouts.

"Why not? You've seen mine... Wanna see yours too..." He whines.

"I've only seen yours when I've been changing you into clothes not soaked in beer. Besides, why would you want to see my dick? You're always bragging about how straight you are. Why would you wanna see it?" I state plainly and his cheeks flush bright red as he seems to sober.

"Shut up... I'm still straight, okay? I'm just... I'm curious, alright?" He mutters defensively, face flaming. "C'mon, I've seen you in a towel like a million times. Why not your dick?" I scrub a hand over my face.

"If I show you my dick, will you go to sleep?"

"Yeah... Yes, fuck. I'll go to sleep." He nods quickly, adjusting his position to give me a little more room. "Just show me." I not hesitantly and push down the covers before peeling down my pyjama pants just enough to pull out my limp dick. I wrap my hand around it. It's pretty big but I'm not one of these guys who brags about it, y'know?

"Satisfied?" I ask and his eyes widen as he stares. He swallows hard, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Holy shit..." He breathes, gaze riveted to my cock. "Fuck... It's so big..."

"You done? Can we sleep now?" He doesn't seem to hear me, reaching out a shaky hand, fingers hovering just above my shaft.

"Can I... Can I touch it? Just for a sec? Please?"

"Why do you wanna touch it?"

"I wanna feel how big it is. I've never seen a dick this big before... Not that I go around looking at guys' dicks, y'know? I just..." He trails off. "Please? I'll go to sleep right after, promise." After a pause, I take my hand off my dick and he gives me a nervous look before he curls his fingers around the shaft. He pulls his palm down my cock experimentally, barely able to wrap his fingers all the way around it. "Fuck..." He breathes, voice deepening. "It's so thick..." His thumb runs over the prominent vein on the underside, sending a shiver through me.

"March..." It's clearly a warning. One he doesn't heed.

"So warm too..." He murmurs, his thumb slowly circling the head once he pulls down the foreskin, still working the shaft slowly. I feel my cock twitch in his grip, my jaw tightening.

"March..." It's more of a growl this time because, Jesus, if he keeps going, he's going to get me all the way hard. His cheeks flush deeper as he realises what he's doing, sobering more and more but in too deep now to stop, squeezing and stroking the shaft.

"You're getting hard..."

"No shit! You're jerking me off!" I manage to get the words out from between gritted teeth, a bead of precum welling at the slit. Without thinking, he leans down and licks it up, his tongue swirling around the crown and my fingers curl tight into the sheet, knuckles white. I slap my head back down against the pillow, internally punching myself because I really shouldn't have let it get this far. "Fuck... You were supposed to go to sleep." But that doesn't sway him.

His lips are pink and soft, stretched around the head of my cock, his hand still moving up and down the shaft. He's...oddly good at it. Especially for a guy who's as straight as Holland March apparently is.

I turn slightly and flick on the bedside lamp so I can get a better look at him. He's definitely sobered up some, eyes a little more in focus, face a little less pale. I prop myself up on my elbows, gently brushing his sweat-damp locks out of his eyes. "Jesus... Still wanna say you're straight?" My voice isn't mocking and he looks up with heavy-lidded eyes, still bobbing his head on the first inch of my cock, his bottom lip slick with a smear of pre as he pulls back slightly.

"Fuck off... I'm straight..." He mumbles before taking me back into his mouth, deeper this time. I smile and gently curl my fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth down to my sac.

"Yeah, sure..." I chuckle softly and he sucks one of my balls into his mouth, his hand still rubbing up and down the shaft of my dick. He gives me all the attention he can before dragging the flat of his tongue along the underside of my cock and I let out a long, low groan. "This is not your first time sucking dick, is it, March?" Technically, it's a question but it's a statement in spirit. He pulls back.

"Shut up." He hides his face against my thigh, almost like a kid trying to bury his face in a favourite blanket. "Just shut up and let me suck your dick, okay?"

"I don't mind, man. Just be fuckin' honest with me. Ohh, shit..." I groan as he rubs his hand along my shaft again.

"I've done it before, okay?!" He finally relents, his voice coming out in a frustrated whisper. "Does that make me fucking gay now?"

"I mean, it makes you kinda gay, yeah." I smile lazily, running my fingers through his hair to push it away from his face.

"Fuck you, I'm straight. I just...like sucking dicks sometimes, okay?" To distract himself, he brings his head back down, taking me deeper and deeper until he's gagging slightly.

"I don't mind... Ohh, fuuuuck..." I cup a hand around the back of his head, pushing my hips forward until his lips are wrapped around the very base of my cock. "Shit, I've had a crush on your since college... Y'know that?" I murmur and he pulls back immediately, choking a little.

"You're— You're gay?!" He asks between ragged breaths, his lips swollen and red.

"You're only noticing this now?" I counter and he stares at me incredulously for a second, seemingly having an epiphany.

"Well, fuck... You think you could've mentioned it sooner?!" He laughs breathlessly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "God, I've been drooling over you for...years..." He admits and I gently pull him into my lap.

"Hey, you were always the one insisting you were straight." I chuckle softly.

"I am straight!" He says, his voice getting increasingly higher. "I-I mean, I like boobs and... And vaginas and... Women..." His eyes drop to my lips, watching them curve with amusement as I move closer.

"You can like both, man." I gently brush my lips against his and he stiffens for a moment before he melts into the kiss with a quiet whimper. His lips part slightly and I press my tongue inside, his mouth tasting more like mints and cock than cigarettes and yesterdays beer. I cradle the back of his head, kissing him deeper and sliding my hand under his shirt, feeling the warmth still radiating from his skin. He's not hard in the boxers but I chalk that up to the amount of alcohol he's ingested. I don't mind. Honestly, I'm just more relieved that he's being honest with himself.

He breaks away from the kiss to pull off the shirt he's wearing, wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling me back in for a clumsy kiss, your hands roaming up and down his sides.

"You can't tell anyone I kissed you." He pants against my lips. "Ever." I quirk a brow, my lips pulled up into a wry grin.

"But I can tell people you sucked my dick?"

"Yeah because at least that way I can pretend I'm not actually like gay-gay for you." He grumbles, pressing his forehead against mine. I don't even try to tell him how little that makes sense. I just let my hands fall down the small of his back, feeling the generous curve of his ass through the loose boxers, kneading the soft flesh there.

"You ever taken it up the ass before?" I ask brazenly and his hips buck forward.

"N-No... I mean... I've fingered myself a few times but... Never a dick." He bites his lip. "You...wanna fuck me?" He asks in reply and I shrug.

"Want me to try?" He looks away before turning back with a nod.

"Yeah... Try it. Might as well since apparently I'm fuckin' gay for your cock." He sighs and I grin and kiss his cheek.

"Yeah, you're a secret fag and I love you for it. Turn around." The pinkness in his cheeks spreads down his neck and across his chest as he turns around in my lap and gets on all fours, presenting his ass to me. And...yeah, he has a damn fine ass. He throws a challenging glare over his shoulder.

"Well? You gonna fuck me or what?" But before he can really get the words out, I brace my hands against his cheeks, spread them and slide my tongue over his rim. He almost jumps out of his skin at the sudden contact before he pushes back against my face, his back bowing as his fingers dig into the comforter. "Ohh, my God... You're...eating my ass..." And I really have to stop myself from laughing.

"Mmhmmm..." I pull back and spit a wad of saliva onto the puckered flesh before circling it with my tongue again, kissing and mouthing at his hole. And he's trembling, legs shaking as he pushes back against me, desperate for more.

"Please... Use your fingers too... Fuck, I need it..." He begs, his voice high and desperate. "Put your fingers in me..." I spit on his hole again before slicking up a finger with more saliva and circling it around his rim to encourage him to relax.

"How many you manage to fit when you do it?" I ask and he pants heavily against the sheets, splayed over my lap, his soft cock leaking uselessly between his thighs.

"U-Umm... Two, I think? Maybe three? Don't remember... I was too busy...jerking off and crying..."

"Okay... We'll unpack that later. Let's just...go with the fingering for now, yeah?" I gently slide a finger in and it's just so easy. Who would've thought that the most eligible bachelor in Nu Sigma Sigma would be so loose? ... Well, probably everyone save for March, himself.

"More... More..." He's pushing back against my finger now. "Can you fit two? Try two." He whines and I add another, slipping in just as easy. I start to scissor them slowly, working him open despite the fact that he doesn't seem to need it.

"Jesus, March, this is..."

"Don't... Don't you dare make fun of me..." He gasps, chest heaving as he tries to get more stimulation.

"Wasn't gonna make fun of you. I'm just...impressed." I manage to slide another digit in alongside the first two and there's a little resistance but it still seems easy enough. He sucks in a breath and a low moan escapes him as I scissor my fingers again, stretching him open.

"Holy fuck... That feels..." I probe around for a moment before my fingertips find his prostate and I curl my fingers right against it, the sensation taking him by surprise. "Aaah!!" He cries out, his soft cock spurting onto the sheets without any touch to it whatsoever. He pants heavily as he collapses onto his front, smearing the cum onto his belly. "Y-You... You made me... You made m-me..." He goes a shade of red I didn't even know was possible as I pull my fingers from inside him, watching him gape slightly once I pull out.

"You okay, man?" I ask and he buries his face in the sheets, groaning in mortification.

"I'm fuckin'...fine..." He mutters, voice muffled. "Just... Just gimme a minute, okay...?" I rub the small of his back and squeeze the back of his thighs because, yeah, it did sound like he just got run over.

"Sure, sure. Take your time."

After a few long minutes, his breathing levels out. He turns his head, his cheeks still flushed. He seems almost entirely sober now, though if it's from the water he drunk, the feeling of my fingers in his ass or the embarrassing fact that he just came prematurely, I may never know.

"You laughed, didn't you?" He accuses, sitting up slightly. I collapse onto my side to look at him with a slight smirk.

"Maybe a little." I reply but there isn't a hint of malice in my tone. He still glares at me but there's no real heat behind it.

"Shut up, asshole." He grumbles, rolling over to punch my arm lightly. "I'll get back at you for this." He threatens, trying to sound tough despite the pink tinting the tipe of his ears. "Just wait until next time—"

"There's gonna be a next time?" I tease, pulling him down and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Yeah, well... Maybe. If you promise not to laugh next time when you make me cum like a virgin." I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead as he nestles against my chest.

"Sure..." I leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across his collarbone. "Think you wanna try taking my dick next?" I ask and he freezes for a moment, swallows hard, his throat bobbing.

"I-I dunno..." He admits, voice soft. "It's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

"Shouldn't do, not with the stretching. And I'll use extra lube. Don't worry."

"But...what if it feels good? Like...really good?" He asks quietly. "What if I like it? What if I become one of those gay guys who want dick all the time?" He jokes nervously and I scoff before pressing a slow kiss to his lips.

"Then, I guess, I'll be seeing you a lot more often, right?" That seems to soothe him a little and his arms loop around my neck.

"You'd better hope I don't get addicted." He murmurs against my lips, his facial hair rasping against my skin. "Because then you'd have to keep supplying the goods."

I gently lay him back on the pillows, kneeling between his thighs, which are pale and surprisingly soft. I reach for the lube on the nightstand and squeeze a generous amount into my hand before spreading it along my cock. Letting out a sigh, I give myself a few pumps.

"Fuck..." Finally, I pull my hand away and wipe the excess lube between March's cheeks, gently prodding at his rim with the head of my cock. "Just relax, yeah?" He traps his bottom lip between his teeth but nods.

"Okay... Okay just... Go slow..." He whispers and I lean down so our faces are barely an inch apart.

"March, it's me we're talking about, here. You think I'm the type of guy to just shove in like that?" He relents and I slowly press inside him, the crown popping in easy enough. I bow my head into the crook of his shoulder, letting out a low groan. Gasping at the initial push, he digs his fingers into the comforter.

"Fuck... Oh, fuck..." I still for a moment but he's relaxing so quickly, adjusting to the size, his body accustomed to the stretch after my tongue and my fingers.

"That's it..." It's tight. Really fucking tight but, by the sounds of things, it's not uncomfortable. Actually, listening to the way he mewls, it's starting to feel...pretty damn good.

I tentatively sink in another inch before stopping again. His eyes roll, his mouth falling open, like he can feel every vein, every ridge of my cock pressing against his insides and it's driving him fucking crazy.

"More..."

The sun's starting to come up now but neither of us has noticed; too wrapped up in each other to give a shit about the weak light filtering through the blinds. I slowly sink in, inch by inch, until I'm completely filling him up, the head of my cock nestled perfectly against his prostate, rubbing up against it as I bottom out. It's taking every ounce of self-restraint I have to not just pin him down and fuck him hard.

"March... Holy fuck..." I huff against his neck and he inhales sharply, his back arching off the bed and his hands flying up to grip my shoulders, bitten-down nails digging in.

"Shit... Shit... Holy fucking shit..."

"You good?"

"Yeah... Fuck... I-I'm good..." He pants, trying to process the sensation of having my dick pressed right up against his sweet spot. "J-Just...gimme a second to... Fuck... Move..."

"You wanna be on top so you can control when you move and how much?" I ask and he nods.

"Yeah, I think that'd be better." He breathes, pressing a hand against your chest. "Roll over, big guy."

With my cock still buried inside him, I roll over onto my back with March straddling my lap.

"Better?" He wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses me, soft and sweet.

"Much better." I squeeze his hips and press another kiss to his lips.

"C'mon, let's see you ride your first rodeo, huh?" I tease and he flushes anew.

"Shut up and let me do this." He takes a deep breath and then starts to slowly rock his hips, back and forth, back and forth. "Fuck..." I glance down to watch where my cock disappears inside him.

"Ohhh, Jesus..." He tosses his head back, finding a rhythm that makes my dick rub up against his prostate with almost every movement. He looks like he likes this. It looks like he likes this a whole lot. I run my hands down his chest and stomach as he rides me, my thumbs tracing the angles of his hipbones. "Shit, March... I think you might just be a fag like me." I say with a lazy grin and he laughs breathlessly.

"Shut up." He grins back, his hair ruffled. "You know what sucks?"

"What?"

"That I didn't figure this out sooner." He says softly, continuing his slow grind, his soft cock bobbing against his thigh as it leaks. "Could've been getting dick on the regular this whole time. Still, better late than never, huh?" I raise my hips to meet his, pulling him in to kiss him.

"Yeah, better late than never..." He keeps riding me, mouth against mine, sharing the same breaths, until we break away for air.

"Love you, man..." He whispers and I nod.

"Love you too, my guy." I reply and he lets his eyes drift shut as he really puts his back into it, bouncing in his lap like he owes me money.

"Fuck, I'm close..." He murmurs and I shake my head.

"Again? Already?" I tease and he gasps out a laugh, his hips bucking wildly, toes curling. "Shut up and kiss me, dumbass!" I tug him in by the scruff of the neck, my other hand holding his hip as I keep thrusting up into him shallowly, grinding against his prostate over and over. He whimpers into my open mouth, the overwhelm of the moment sending him spiralling. His body tenses as he cums again, his limp dick spilling white ropes between our bodies. And he's fucking trembling, pulsing inside, milking my dick.

I bury my face into the crook of his neck, growling, as I try to keep a lid on my own need to cum. "Gonna pull out. Where d'you want it?" I ask and he whines, chest heaving, voice high.

"On my chest." He answers softly. Or my stomach..." He spreads his legs wider. "Or you could cum on my face." He adds suddenly and I nod.

I shuffle the both of us to the edge of the bed then lower him to his knees, beside the bed, my cock slipping from inside him. I wrap a hand tight around my cock, aiming for his face. God, he's pretty...

"You sure about this?" I ask and he looks up, face flushed and sweaty.

"Positive." He says, parting his lips in invitation. I nod again, my free hand holding his head steady with a firm grip on his hair. I pump away at my dick, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Fuck... Okay... Here we go..."

I reach my breaking point, gasping as the first shot lands on his cheek. I give myself another pump and a rope lands across his lips. Another pump and there's a ribbon across the bridge of his nose. Over and over until his face is covered in a dozen thick, sticky lines of semen that drip down his face. I stroke his hair. "Shit, you look good like that." He sweeps his tongue across his lips, tasting a drop that slides down his lip. He swallows it down, feeling it coat his tongue and the back of his throat. I stroke his cheek with my thumb, gently working the cum into his skin and making it gleam with a slick, sloppy shine. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed, dark lashes decorated with beads of white fanning out against his cheeks.

Eventually, I grab a napkin from the nightstand and wipe his face clean before pulling him up onto the bed, the both of us sprawled out and exhausted as morning light fills the room. He snuggles against my side, letting out a soft sigh as he presses his ear against my chest.

"We should do this more often." He mumbles, already half-asleep. "Like...every day more often." I pull the covers over us and wrap an arm loosely around his waist.

"Can we do it without you being wasted out of your mind next time?" I joke and he laughs sleepily.

"Yeah..."

"Okay, just get some rest now, yeah?" I say and he hums softly, throwing a leg over mine. He goes quiet.

He's not used to them but he seems to like these morning-after cuddles. He never seems to get this with the women he finds on the street. He's usually the one to kick them out or leave himself before they can deny him the pleasure. He tenses as he realises something, despite my fingers trailing along his spine soothingly.

"Can I ask you something?" He murmurs softly. He's not sure if he wants to know the answer. "It's kinda personal." He adds.

"Mm...?"

"When did you — y'know... — know you were gay?" He asks hesitantly, tracing patterns on my chest.

"Dunno... Probably when I was about...fourteen? Fifteen?" I answer honestly.

"And you never... You never even considered being with a chick?"

"I mean, I did but...it just didn't feel the same, y'know?" I answer, pressing a little kiss to the top of his head.

"Yeah..." He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "Would you... Would you mind if I said something stupid?" He passes a hand through his messy hair.

"Yeah?"

"I tried to convince myself I was straight..." He admits quietly. "Thought if I dated enough girls, watched enough porn, maybe I'd suddenly not like guys anymore."

"And...?" I ask and he laughs ruefully.

"It never worked. The more girls I slept with, the more I realised I was, like, faking it. Before, y'know, the wife...I only ever got really hard when I looked at gay mags, y'know?" He swallows hard and I really don't know what to say. Post-nut clarity, man. Shit hits hard.

"March, just... Fuck, just rest, man. We can have a deep, meaningful conversation later. Right now you just need some sleep." I wrap my arms tighter around him and he seems to relax a little. I hope he decides that maybe he should sit the internal gay crisis aside for now. He nuzzles into me with a nod. I just stroke his back, my eyes getting heavy. "Just rest, okay...?" He nods slowly, eyes drifting shut.

"Love you, man... Thanks for pickin' me up."

"No worries..."

[journey-to-the-attic]

Hi Kin. I wanted to ask, how did you manage things like writer's block or creative burnout while writing JTTA? I'm midway through a longfic now and it's kind of exhausting. I feel like I'm whining but I barely get any comments or asks or anything.

hi anon! honestly i'm not sure if i was the right person to ask this, because i... kind of didn't? as in, i didn't really have these problems - boring answer, i know!

i got lucky because i hit a sweet spot where the base story and characters were strong, but with just enough gaps in plot, worldbuilding, development, etc. such that the momentum of filling everything in carried me through the whole process. but there were definitely a lot of occasions where i sat there thinking "okay i have no idea what to do now"

in those cases, often i had to just step back and ruminate on it for a little while - i've pretty much constantly got little ideas bouncing around my head, and sometimes they hit each other like snowballs and form into more fully-fledged plot points, scenes, dialogue, so on. i try to keep track of these in notes apps, personal discord channels, etc, and dip into them if i'm stuck on something!

not sure if your fic is for obey me, but this could still apply even if not - with all the pop quizzes and devilgrams that put the characters in a bunch of new contexts, it's helpful seeing how that character's static vs dynamic traits persist/change depending on them, and often that'll give you inspiration as well. depending on what you've got available, you could browse through source material, or brainstorm aus, whichever you enjoy most

i'm really not sure HOW i've stuck with obey me for so long, but somehow it's just stuck with me. i don't remember being so invested in it before jtta, so that's probably why, but i just really love these guys, and i suppose that's why i never burnt out of it? i think it was also because i knew what story i wanted to tell, and i really wanted to make sure ik got her happy ending, and that carried me through as well

seriously, though - do take breaks. every writer's mileage varies, so take a step back whenever you need to. writing fics should be fun! sometimes it does feel like a chore, and it becomes more like 'the only thing i hate more than writing is not writing', but it happens to all of us. sometimes you've just got to rest until your second wind comes along

in terms of comments and such... yeah, it's a tough one! the unfortunate thing is that a vast majority of readers - even if they really enjoyed your writing! - won't leave a comment. don't take this as a direct reflection on your writing! often the reader can't think of what to say, is too shy, or quite simply forgot

again though... i'm not sure if i'm the best person to ask for advice here! i started publishing jtta without much expectation for an audience, given the genre of game it's written for, so any attention was more a nice surprise than anything. i suppose that, later on, when the fic was more well-established, i did start holding some expectation of response - and it really is tough when you don't get as much of one as you were hoping for

i've seen people talking about how the ask culture on tumblr has died down a lot in recent times, so i'm sure you're not the only one feeling like this! all i can suggest is trying to find more friends (mutuals?) and... networking, i guess? i've seen advice saying to share your fic within communities of writers, too

i can't honestly say if these things'll work, because i'm very bad about interacting with a wider fandom in anything - i usually keep to myself, so often i don't have much of an expectation for how and when people come chat. as in real life, i'm only a chatterbox when approached first haha

i'm not sure how helpful this has been, but i'm rooting for you! if you'd like to share your fic here, please do - though i understand if that's something you'd rather keep to yourself as well.

creating things is a joy - it might take some searching to find a circle, but the beauty of the internet is that you will, somewhere out there! wishing you the best ^^

[acelestialorca]

Who am I, and What am I meant to do?

or

Why is Salted Caramel so good?

Hello! My name is Sky, and I have no idea whats going on

TW//brief mentions of alluding to suicide and death later

Script to read along below

Wow well done Sky, very profound and new idea you’ve had there, oh whats this? ancient Greece called they want their obvious philosophical statements back. But it is and like most people on this rock I can't help but think about it, talking more than my woke transgender identity too here buckaroo, we gonna be talking about the whole shebang, who am I, why am i here, why is salted caramel so good (not identity related I just want to know), all important questions im gonnaaaa uhh have a good think about for sure I’ve always kind of struggled with grasping hold of a rigid sense of identity, I’ve never been too sure of who I am y’know, obvious things come to mind like how I’ve still not settled on a specific gender, more just vaguely ointing in a direction and saying “yea its over there”, but also weird stuff like aesthetics, I have a whole identity crisis anytime I need to design something to represent me, website styles, tumblr layouts, fucking minecraft skins. I never know what is ‘right’, everytime I’d try something it wouldn’t be me, I can easily list things that aren’t, but what is? So how does anyone find out their deep personal sense of identity? Online quizzes of course! So I took a bunch: -My MBTI type is INFP-T -I’m a Pisces moon capricorn rising…I don’t know what that means -If I was any Doctor Who character I’d be checks notes The Doctor (really out of all of them? ok?) -My warrior cats name would be Medic AppleFace…. What? -The big 5 called and said im 73% openness, 25% conscientiousness, 69% extraversion, 54% agreeableness and 60% neuroticism -If i were a clown or mime i’d be a Pierrot mime -I’d be a psychic type pokemon -and a random quiz defined my entire personality as ‘The Poet’

So there we go, essay over, we know who I am and we can all leave, sit back down, we're not done here at all.

These things aren’t me, if i pointed to them and said to someone “look do you get it, do you understand” they wouldn't, because the bit of ourselves that these reveal are basically just pin badges to stick on your backpack so people can start conversations from common ground. “Omg you’d be a Psychic type pokemon? Me too! Lets get dinner Medic AppleFace”. They’re nice ways to connect to people because we as a species fucking love labels and little boxes we can fit into with other people.  

So what is identity if not that, why do we care. It probably differs for everyone but the general sense of identity is made up of what we like, How we act, what we think of things, what we think of and how we got here, the thing is none of these are stable or set in stone, they all change over time and yet I’m still me, I think? But to what degree? If we consult the ship of theseus (My 1 year of Philosophy undergraduate coming in clutch) there's a few different answers to this, I could still be me, just no doubts about it it’s all me, this usually comes from a temporal continuity standpoint, you can trace a path in both space and time from the moment I was born to now without either line breaking (I dont know what would happen if I had time travelled or…fallen into the fucking backrooms but thats besides the point), this means that as long as that line remains intact the being at the start and end are the same, no matter how much of me has changed, my likes, dislikes, personality, its still me! Another possibility is that I’m not the same person, ever, every second we are changing so every second a new me is destroyed and born from the ashes, a constant cycle of changing forever, never truly able to settle on a rigid sense of self, quantum beings always in infinite states, only standing still for a moment when observed by another, their limited views of who you are, that limit allowing for an image of you to last longer than when viewed in a mirror

I think it's a mix of the two (I know very brave of me, oh sky how do you sit so well on that fence without tumbling into the field on either side, but shhhh). While I think it is true that technically because we are always changing in minute ways we are never the same person for more than a fraction of a second, I dont think it's helpful to this conversation because at the end of the day I am still me, my memories are all there, my continuity, and I am aware of how I have changed overtime, you can trace the lines over and over again and you wont find a breakage because from birth to now, i am me.

But what about other people? We are all so unique and different, is everyone feeling this way? If someone asked me to describe my sense of identity I truly wouldn't know what to say, so I did just that. I asked people to describe their sense of identity, whatever that meant to them. What I immediately found upon saying actual words to real human beings rather than talking to myself outloud in my room, parroting a cycle of identity themed questions until I happen upon the answer like it's the goddamn one piece, is that everyone's interpretation of personal identity is very different, and I don't mean their identities are, i mean what they consider to be the important parts. When I asked people to describe their personal identity the themes that popped up were vastly different, one friend went into detail on her traits and ideals, the type of person she sees herself as and what she aims to accomplish as well as her drive to work hard and how punishing that can be, whereas another brought up a topic that I, the very white british girl, didn’t even think about cause its so far from being an important part of my identity, culture! They went into great detail about their sense of culture based on their heritage and its links to family names with such excitement to talk about it that it clearly is a core part of their identity, mix that with 60’s and 70’s era of music spiritualism and a religious/spiritual upbringing and these key parts of their identity all made sense knowing who they are. So I wonder how it is that so far of the people I’ve asked, most of them had a grasp on their identity that I cannot seem to comprehend, when they all look inwards they see a marble, its center swirling with these different parts of them that they all hold dear, ready to point to and show off to the world. “This! This here, this is me! You understand right?” and I feel like I do as much as an outsider can, and with this realisation further into the spiraling rabbit hole I went to find the center of myself, if there even is one. When someone asks who are you I look inside to try and present my marble, its cracked exterior from which the contents leaked out reflecting the light of their expecting gaze “No no there’s something there, look closer I promise” But maybe there isn’t At least not that I can see What about them? What do they all see?

I find thinking about how people see me as both deeply interesting and deeply terrifying, of course the idea of people seeing me and thinking about me when i’m not around is quite endearing (Wonder what it says about me that just knowing people think about me is enough to make me blush) but their perspective of me is scary to think about. Not in a “oooh i'm scared of what people think about me, what if they think im cringe” way because i luckily started to shed that recently and i don't really care if people think i'm odd, no i mean their limited view of who I am, their reductive sense of me and if it's wrong, or the scarier reality. What if its right?

Sometimes a friend will say to me or about me while i'm around “Sky seems like the type to do so and so” and honestly a lot of the time they are way off, I think at one point a friend said I was the type to have personal beef with a specific squirrel??? Like I don’t think that's accurate to me at all and yet people agreed, it could be that we are beings that cannot be self reflective because the truest version of ourselves is the one in the minds of those we love, our internal sense of selfhood is all well and good but your actions speak a lot louder about who you are, you can't be a kind person because you think you are, you need to be kind, and that comes naturally to some and is worked on by others. How right are our own ideas of who we are anyway? Sometimes I do and say things that are the complete opposite of who I imagine myself to be, mirrors are flipped and photos are two dimensional, is the only way to truly know ourselves to ask those around us? I also asked people how they view me to see what the image in their head of me looks like, and I got responses I was not expecting, one described me as bounding joy shifting and changing with spiritual vibrato, 90s bus seat mixed with LSD, I thanked them for this because it sounded like a compliment, that seemed like an energy that I would be happy to be imagined like, but is it actually me? How could people know who I am when they only see glimpses, sick masked performances designed to wow people and inspire feelings of “she is so funny and well put together”, while I hide the truth of my reality behind the closed doors and turned off lights, lest they illuminate that I don’t have a clue who I am or what I’m doing. The difference in rigidity also stood out to me, when asked about ourselves people come up with their own interpretations of what the question means but still seem to grasp and link to more tangible concepts to represent themselves, culture, religion, ideals, goals, traits. All things you can observe and comment on, but when asked about other people we lean abstract, compare to old friends, 8-bit kirby theme songs, and terrible 90s design choices, maybe because thats all these little windows into our souls we show people can be, i said our sense of selves are akin to being quantum, that seems to be more true than I originally thought, not only are we ever changing and only stopping for moments in the eyes of those we hold dear, but when we are observed we are not the same, our identity is altered by the simple act of being around people (see the observer effect). So can it be trusted? If you ask people what you are like in their eyes and you get conflicting answers, is anyone involved lying? They’re not that's just how they see you, so is it us? Am I lying to people, grabbing anything I can find to jam into the marble anytime someone is around, oil and water to bound around each other the way a soul should in order to feign identity, to pretend to be a real person. Am I a real person?

I can’t talk about and explore my sense of identity without mentioning the wooly mammoth of an elephant in the room that is gender. So I’m trans, if you’re new here and that's news to you hiya! I’m very open about this and would basically tell anyone, I don't hide it, its something I’m proud of and more importantly its something I feel I need to be open about, when I first came out to myself every trans person I saw living unapologetically as themselves spurred me to keep going, and thats partly why despite the years of thinking about not being alive anymore, whether I wanted to see to that myself or the majority of times where I just thought of all the ways it could happen to me instead, smiling as I think of the car, Swerve smash gone. Or the late night walks home gone right, despite all of that I’m still here and so I owe it to the world to pay that back. So is being transgender part of my identity? As I’ve been writing this introspective piece the main wall I keep hitting is I cannot define identity for myself, I don’t think being trans is part of what I would consider my identity, I wish I did cause then it would be much easier to get the answer to it all but its not. It’s just something I am, being Bisexual isn’t a part, my love of doctor who isn’t, salted caramel being a damn good flavour isn’t either, maybe this whole problem is that I just need to learn to define it differently than I unclearly do, but if I do that then nothing would feel right ever again, those things aren’t my identity because if at the gates of oblivion I bare my soul and death looks inside and sees it stuffed full of pieces that we both know don’t belong, who am I then? Could I go gentle into that goodnight when the marble I take with me is patched with tape and bluetack

“Everyone wants somebody to understand their personality, and their childhood, and what each of those things have done to the other one” -Savannah Brown, Closer Baby Closer. And I do, that’s what all this comes down to, the need to be known. My pull towards understanding my identity lies further than just a desire to better understand myself, its a desire to be better understood by others. I want there to be someone who truly knows me and understands what it’s like to be me, how I feel when I’m happy, when I cry, how my love feels. When I leave this place I want to have had some kind of impact, and I dont mean a great, long standing legacy for the history books, I just need someone to have known what it was like, and until I know myself, I can’t get that.

So why write and record all of this, what's the point, am I doomed, are we all doomed? Did everyone just listen to me rant this whole time for the ending to be hopeless and sad? No of course not I wouldn’t just leave things there, here’s your answer: It’s really good because despite it just being caramel and salt, theres a new sense of identity within it once you begin to combine in the right quantities that goes beyond the physical, the image and idea of salted caramel’s identity is what matters, and it’s never the same each time. Sorry, actually though, what’s the point of it all? Well what I left out earlier in order to bring this whole thing back around onto a kind of lighter ending, is that when I asked people about their identity, for every person who gave me a well thought out essay of who they were, there was another who didn’t even know what I meant or  where to start, like me to them the question is too vast and complicated to even begin to write down what could be the “correct” answer. The ocean is oh so full of fish to reel in and proclaim as your prize but half of us don’t even have a rod, nevermind the fact we’ve never seen a fish. If you, reading or listening, also have no idea who you might be or where to begin the definition of you, then let me tell you based on what all of this thinking and writing has shown me, with or without a clear structure of identity you can translate to others. You are enough.

[changingplumbob]

Some tag games...

@roos-bowl-o-soup found some quizzes and tagged us all so here I go to do a bunch. The fact that I had so many sim plans for today and yet the update dropped is totally unrelated. Random picture because infants are adorable!

I'm tagging EVERYONE who follows me and needs something to do while we wait for the dust to settle from this update! Do one quiz, do them all, ignore me and do none! All are valid choices.

What Kind of Love are you?

Love as the Dawn

Pastel, saccharine and hopeful, your love rises slow to greet the day. It tiptoes on doe feet and blossoms bit by bit, petal by petal. Love is new to you, isn’t it? A fresh discovery in a world you do not quite understand. Your love loves with bated breaths. Your love swoons and sighs and lingers under awnings. Your love romanticizes. Your love aches as tenderly as a bruise. You’re swollen with desire and idealizations. The perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfect partner in life. Your love is wide-eyed and innocent, naive and pristine and oh, so very easily breakable. Being loved by you is to be loved by a child, by a lamb, wooly-eyed and helpless. Oh. I really hope it lasts.

Aww this is a cute answer! They definitely know I'm a romantic

What Colour is Your Aura?

Gold

lion statues, coins, gold leafing, bound books, goldfinches, crowns, heart lockets. your essence is gold: you are a noble heart who believes in your own strength. you stand against your fear; if you can deny something exists, you will not see it, it cannot touch you. you are enduring and strong -- but watchful, for anyone can grow fangs. you are the monarch. you are the leader of the rebellion. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of cream, yellow, marigold, and moss, who share your ambitions. you are also drawn to the forthright crimson and umber, who will help you grow and find genuine confidence in the face of uncertainty. however, you may struggle to get along with the overly-involved personalities of magenta and forest who are unconscious of their own feelings.

Not sure on this one, maybe it's because my favourite drinks were not an option...

What Kind of Art Are You?

Music

You are ever changing and always beautiful. Your emotions can quickly snap from one to another, but regardless of the emotion, you always fill other's lives with a sense of meaning.

Well my taste in music is definitely eclectic...

What Piece of Synesthesia Art Are You?

Mozart's Symphony 40

you're reliable and sophisticated! your friends know that they can always lean on you, and you're incredibly supportive. you like to help whenever you can! but you're also a little chaotic-- your head gets scrambled up and you overthink. your quick thinking and cool head help you untangle that, though. you're gonna do just fine, bud! remember that you can say no to stuff if you need to put yourself first, though, okay? i might diagnose you with lan wangji from mdzs if i were a character diagnosing doctor.

Can't believe I'm being called out for my overthinking like this...

What Genre of Book Were You Written For and Did You Survive to The End

Written for an adventure book where you survived the final battle

You love exploration and finding the reason behind things. You have experienced a lot of obstacles in your life but somehow have managed to push past them all. Even though it has been hard and tiring, you still reached the end of story where you are finally able to be free from any of those obstacles.

[dashielldeveron]

omg i loved your soulmate troupe… im so inspired by it but i have a question?? How do you find such great like “big boy words” like anachronistic and such and perfectly incorporate them in without sounded pompous :(( i admire your vocab its so beautiful

this is a really interesting question, and i'm not sure i know the answer to it!!! speculation/advice under the cut

i think, in the context of soulmate trope, it may be that the reader character is established as this observant, detail-oriented person who analyses/notices a bunch of mundane things, so it makes some sense that that sort of person would have a wider vocabulary in order to describe things better. like, try picturing yaoyorozu using the word mellifluous versus kaminari using it. it would sound weird and pretentious for kaminari to use words like that, because he's established to not be too bright and doesn't use that sort of language in general. yaoyorozu, though, we know she has to have a wide body of knowledge to utilise her quirk the best she can, so it would make sense that she's come across that word and may casually use it. so it may not seem pretentious for soulmate trope bc it feels in character for the POV reader character.

i think the probable, most comprehensive answer is that i've just been doing it for a long time. been reading a lot. been writing a lot. which i know is not a fun answer, because it's better to have immediately applicable advice.

here's my best attempt regardless, though:

if you're wondering if anything you yourself wrote is pretentious bc you use bigger words, it's probable not actually pretentious. it's your brain trying to kill you. you've looked at your work a lot, so you're not seeing it with fresh eyes; you're seeing your writing process behind every sentence. you're most likely fine.

2) our current literacy crisis involves a strange undercurrent of an aversion to "purple prose," which, normally, means language so flowery and over-the-top that it makes a work incomprehensible, but with the current literary scene has been watered down to mean something along the lines of "heavy description and figurative language." which can include using vocabulary we don't encounter in everyday life. people can tell you it's cringe to use them. it's not, and even if it were, cringe is dead, and we are free.

3) nothing wrong with being pretentious!!! we are alive!!!! indulge in the senses and in luxuriant descriptions!!!!!

4) specificity in language is good. it's not pompous if it's the most specific, appropriate word for the situation. it communicates the ideas better

5) some words may seem pretentious because of the story's context. has the story established that it only uses fifth-grade-level words? then of course it would feel out of place and pretentious when there's suddenly a five-syllable word.

6) as for finding words, well. besides reading, there's lots of ways to find different vocabulary. my dumbest but most effective advice: look up lists of vocabulary words that seventh graders are supposed to be quizzed on weekly. you want lists that are divided into, like, fourteen units, bc that means it's a year-long endeavour and designed to amp up in difficulty. yes, you'll know like 97% of the words, but there'll be some weirdly specific terms thrown in there. keep track of the ones you've never heard of or the ones you want to re-cement in your vocabulary. so, we start with seventh grade bc it's not intimidating, bc it's for fucking seventh graders. but keep going all the way up to 12th grade. all those words you collected--put them in a planner or daily calendar with their definitions; commit to learning one word a day and using it in conversation that day. i am slightly embarrassed to say i did this for years. nowadays, you can buy word-a-day tearaway calendars, but i liked having the customisation for words i knew i wanted to learn. i remember picking a bunch of old-fashioned, sexual-adjacent words for like two weeks in a row bc i wanted to write a loki fanfic.

anyway. i hope any shred of that helps lol. and wow i'm really flattered that you'd ask me about it, gosh!!!! thank you so much for your question and for reading my silly stories!!!! xx.

[symbiotic-slime]

it’s even somehow awkward to “ask” you so many questions-- ":)

but:

5, 19, 22, 26, 33, 34.

5. what color are your eyes? 

brown 😔 I got the default colour lol

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

hell yeah!! I have a bunch of nail polish, and that sounds like it would be so fun (if you wanted your nails painted ofc :3)!

22. what type of person are you?

uhhhhh like overall? ummm okay I kinda struggled to come up with an answer to this one so I just took a bunch of personality quizzes:

16 Personalities: INTJ ! this has changed several times, I’m honestly surprised because I used to get INFP or ENFP??? anyways, it’s saying I’m pretty introverted, very intuitive (creatively minded), barely more logical based than feeling based (51% to 49%, I think a good decision requires both so I think that’s why it’s very in the middle!), and very judging (which in this case means organized)!

Big 5:

sorry this is a bit of an odd way to respond to the question but I was struggling to come up with an answer lol 😅

26. a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

if we’re talking like a real life scenario? I tend to replay small mistakes a lot in my head 😭

fictional scenarios tho, any pointless fluff with my favourite characters gets played on repeat in my brain :3

33. the last adventure you’ve been on?

I ventured to USA yesterday (I live close to the border and needed gas lol — it’s way cheaper in the states than canada)

34. is there a song you know every word to by heart?

there’s so many!!! my favourite right now is probably Buried Alive by Love by HIM!!

[enigma-absolute]

❤️🤍💭 for the emoji character ask game, if you want to play and you have an character you want to talk about!

💭 - What’s your OC’s MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

I’m gonna answer this one first because quite simply - no clue! Personality tests haven’t really been a big deal for Maddox, or even myself since I lost interest in them.

That being said, I DID do a bunch of quizzes as part of a character development challenge, and it’s linked in the google doc shown.

🤍 - What are 3 of your OC’s neutral/negative traits?

Because of the Empire’s top secret experiments, Maddox has certain targeted retrograde amnesia that shattered any trust he could’ve had with it. As for now, that still impacts his memory - though he is recovering from it with help from the Force. But about that memory recovery…

His (self-admitted) limited knowledge on the GFFA can make him both an asset and a hinderance in certain aspects. He knows that the Rebels will win in the end, but his assurance of it can lead him to being cocky and overconfident. It’s easy to have a zealous hopeful streak when you know the end from the beginning.

At the same time, Maddox’s memory recovery isn’t a linear process either. There’s the good and bad memories, and the first bunch of bad ones about who he used to be genuinely sent him on a depressive spiral. If he doesn’t keep himself in check and surround himself with allies and friends, he’ll be prone to being affected by his own grief and despise on his past self.

❤️- What are three of your OC’s positive traits?

Maddox is recently finding that he likes being more physically affectionate in a platonic sense than his past self would’ve, being a complete sucker for hugs and stoked to even just be in the company of friends. Learning and being able to love and love abundantly without hiding it has done good for him, even in espionage.

Related to the above, if he’s put in a team of any kind, he’ll work to make sure that everyone is at least on some version of good terms, and seek to see that everyone is safe as they can be and get the help they need if they aren’t. He may not always get it right, but he cares.

He’s a quick thinker on his feet and even if it doesn’t work, will seek out and put to action a plan of some kind with a bit of improvisation and the Force.

[verdancy-hime]

This is true of most of those tests? If you practice enough you can get the results you want on purpose?

It's super easy with MBTI?

I got bored of doing it with those which fictional character are you quizilla quizzes one month and practiced for like a day and a night and I've been able to do it ever since.

The ones at psych test facilities usually just measure what the person knows the doctor or parent or spouse says about the patient the most that they have been indoctrinated to believe will get them out of trouble.

Like answers to job interview questions.

Psych tests are easier, usually they just want to see if you're normal. So you just answer like a normal person. Most of the questions are like "do you ever want to set stuff on fire?" Unless they're testing for anxiety or depression anyway.

If they want to know about your symptoms for real they won't give you a test first they will talk to you about a specific incident and ask a bunch of weird questions.

When they want to diagnose you they can't poker face very well so they try really hard to pretend they have no motive while also asking you a bunch of open ended questions that indicate they want something and are looking for something specific but are afraid to hint what it is.

Like when annoying men are like "let's just do whatever yoooooou wanna doooooooo" because they think it will make you happy if you just tell them whatever you want and you have no idea what they want and you don't even know why they wanna hang out with you on tinder?

It's the psychiatrist version of that. They start asking you a bunch of oddly specific questions that don't specify anything.

You can always figure out what they think eventually. They should just describe a condition and ask you if you have it instead of being annoying and patronizing like they're trying to win the James Randi prize or whatever it would save time.

Most people have a pretty good idea of what's wrong in their world if you ask.

it's actually buckfuckingwild how the MBTI acknowledges upfront that it can't produce consistent results by "warning" that people who take it more than once are likely to receive different types and that is. somehow not sufficient to completely discredit it as a useful measure of anything.

[johngaiussimp]

Locked Tomb UQuiz Masterpost!

Hellllooooo. I make a lot of uquizzes on Twitter for fun. i post/make them at various levels of seriousness, so they are mostly the farthest thing from professional and pretty horny and silly.* But if you want to take a bunch of locked tomb personality quizzes made by a silly nerd, here’s a list from over the years!

Every quiz is probably NSFW lol. More recent ones have Nona spoilers (at the bottom of list)

There are also other quizzes that are by other amazing people, take their quizzes too (too stoned to figure out how to find all those) (if you want to reblog with your own quizzes pls do so)

here you gooooooo. 

Which Ianthe vibe are you?

Which Griddlehark quote/moment are you?

Which goth Harrow nickname are you?

Which name does Harrowhark Nonagesimus call you?

How fucked up are you? (based on a very specific TLT measurement) 

Which hilarious Mercymorn insult are you?

What does your TLT House say about you as a lover?

What sexy Cytherea moment are you?

What TLT meme are you?

Which article of Harrowhark’s clothing are you?

What type of cavalier are you?

How quickly would you die in Canaan House?

What does Ianthe call you?

Which TLT woman are you going on a hot date with?

Which Third House au plot point are you?

Which Ninth House feature/element are you?

Which fake TLT academic journal title are you?

What makkachinning Griddlehark AU are you? 

Answer would you rather questions and get assigned a TLT wife!

How well do you know Ianthe Tridentarius? 

Analyze this Gideon and Ianthe banter scene and I’ll guess your astrological sign incorrectly. 

Choose your own adventure TLT au (which original Lyctor are you?)

Which piece of TLT underwear are you?

Answer FMK - get assigned a strange TLT au of my own creation.

Which cursed TWT fan TLT moment are you (would you rather)

Which certified TLT stoner are you?

Answer some Qs and get assigned a TLT hottie and a Taylor Swift song 

Which BOE prisoner are you from “As yet Unsent”

Which brat Ianthe moment /emoji are u???

How long could you stay married with Ianthe?

Which false homestuck reference in TLT are you?

Match a reaction image to TLT characters and get assigned a TLT ex-gf

Which TLT cat are you? 

Which form of Alecto are you going to date?

What interpretation of Mercymorn’s drawing of a RB are you?

What is your TLT toxic trait (character edition)? 

What is your TLT love language? 

What is your job during the Great Jizz Heist? 

What’s your toxic tlt trait (fandom edition)?

Top, bottom or switch, TLT edition

Which arcane x tlt ship are you?

Which line from the Nona book summary are you?

who is your TLT secret santa and what do they get you?

R u hole or slick or knot? decorate a christmas tree.

What Tor nona cover promotion tweet are you?

What Nona cover detail are you?

Which horny TLT moment are you?

Who is your TLT one night stand?

Who in Bridgerton are you? (TLT x bridgerton )

which Locked Tomb villain are you?

What kind of ass would Ianthe flesh magic onto you?

Whose strap are you []ing tonight?

Who is your 2022 TLT pride crew?

Are you top bottom or switch (nona edition)? 

Which name does Pyrrha call you? 

*Please note that these quizzes are made by a freak who is friends with freaks and doesn’t fuck with trying to police other ppls shipping choices lmao. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Quizzes

Synopsis: you and Tom take a Buzzfeed quiz

Masterlist

“Hi I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Y/n L/n.” You greeted. “And today were taking some Marvel quizzes with Buzzfeed.”

“Are you ready, darling?” He asked you as he moved the laptop in between you.

“I’m ready to beat you.” You nodded.

“Is this a competition?” He asked the people behind the camera.

“It is now.” You stated. “Read the first question.”

“Which stone would you want power of?” Tom read off the screen. “I’m not gonna read the names of the stones because I don’t feel like embarrassing myself this early in the day.”

“I don’t actually know what any of them do.” You realized. “Do you know what they do?”

“The tesseract is a cube.” Tom said confidently.

“Yes, but that’s not an action.”

“Then I have no idea what any of them do.” He mumbled. You laughed at him and leaned your elbow on the back of his chair.

“Me either. This is why we both died in Infinity War.” You joked.

“Stop.” He playfully pushed you. “I think the reality stone would be cool because remember the fight between Doctor Strange and Thanos with all the pretty butterflies? We could just do that everyday and, you know, have world peace.”

“You’re right. We’re gonna go with reality stone.” You said to the camera as you clicked that answer.

“Next question.” Tom rubbed his hands together. “Which Disney character would you want on the Avengers?”

“Sorcerer Mickey.” You pointed to the picture of Mickey in his blue wizard hat. “Imagine getting tag teamed by a bunch of adults and a rat.”

“I’ve never seen the movie with this Mickey.” Tom realized. “I don’t remember this outfit.”

“I think it’s called Anastasia.” You told him.

“No, that’s a Broadway show.” Tom shook his head. “This is called Euthanasia.”

“It’s called Fantasia.” Someone behind the camera told you, making you and Tom exchange a knowing look.

“Oh.” You laughed. “I’m too embarrassed to pick sorcerer Mickey now so let’s go with the Genie. I think magic would be useful.”

“Genie.” Tom repeated as he clicked on it. “Next. Which DC character could defeat Thanos?”

“Let’s see them defeat the box office first.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You can’t say that.” Tom laughed in shock.

“But I did.” You shrugged. “What are they gonna do about it? They can’t even CGI a mustache.”

“Okay.” Toms laughed died down. “Next question. How would your closest friends describe you?”

“I don’t know.” You thought about it. “How would you describe me?”

“Beautiful.” Tom said simply.

“Fair enough.” You laughed shyly. “I mean, fair enough.”

“Caring, loyal, creative, funny, kind, successful.” Tom read off the options. “I mean, you’re all of these things. But when I think of you…”

Tom stopped in the middle of his sentence as a wide smile broke out on his face.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked him.

“Because I’m thinking of you.” He told you.

“Aw. Is disgusting an option?” You asked sweetly.

“Shut up.” He pushed you again. “I’m choosing funny.”

“Good choice.” You nodded and went to the nest question.

“Which dynamic duo is your favorite?” Tom read off the screen.

“I was thinking Thor and Loki.” You decided after surveying the options.

“Me too.” Tom agreed. “But I don’t really know what dynamic means, if I’m honest.”

“Me either.” You realized. “Let’s just move on. Which weird or unconventional superpower would you want to possess?”

“I think to read and instantly memorize.” Tom answered. “That would help with scripts.”

“When I worked in retail, costumers would have to punch in their social security number if they forgot their store card and I would see it on my screen.” You told Tom with a coy smile.

“Oh?” He laughed in confusion.

“I could commit in with theft in bulk.” You stated. “I’d just memorize all their social security numbers without even trying.”

“Oh my God.” He groaned and went to the next question.

“Who’s origin story is your personal favorite?” You read out loud.

“The way that neither of us are listed as an option.” Tom mumbled under his breath when he saw the choices.

“Your origin wasn’t even in your movie.” You laughed. “They jumped right in and said y’all know the drill. Dead uncle, no more glasses, and instant abs.”

“I’m torn because Steven Strange’s is about healing and putting yourself back together and Steve Rogers is about perseverance and determination.” Tom sighed as he tried to decide.

“And being skinny.” You winked at the camera.

“I’m also leaning towards Carol Danvers because women.” Tom ignored you.

“I’m gonna pick Steve because his story is sweet.” You decided and clicked on the option.

“And finally, what would you say is your personal character flaw?”

“I don’t know. I’m perfect.” Tom said smugly.

“Is being a massive liar an option?” You asked the camera crew.

“Leave me alone.” He nudged your side. “I would say reckless. Between the two of us, there are four brain cells and two of them are playing Uno.”

“I agree.” You chuckled. “Pick that one.”

Tom clicked the option and it brought you to the end of the quiz.

“We made it! We survived!” You cheered as you turned to high five him. Tom high fived both your hands and before slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you for having us Buzzfeed.” He said into the camera. “I haven’t been Y/n L/n.”

“And I haven’t been Tom Holland.” You smiled. “Until next time.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @unbelievableholland​ @flixndchill @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @marshxx @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @alexxcorona113​ @lethal-wisdom��� @xo-spidey​ @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains​ @peterbenjiparker​ @itsemohours​ @okkulta​ @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy​ @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen​ @itmatteredatthetime​ @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @magicalxdaydream​ @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @leilanixx​ @namoreno​ @bi-lmg​ @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml​ @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl​ @so-very-asleep​ @veryholland​ @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles​ @firwproof​ @fanficaddict13125​ @pinklxmonade​ @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker​ @willowestelle​ @imobsessedzs​ @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242​ @hihiweezing​ @mathletemadison​  @chipot-lol @mackenziejanine​ @dhtomholland​ @peterstommy​ @insomniac-nerd-posts-things​ @prancerrparkerr @aayaissaa​ @loudthoughts-softspoken​ @starknik22​ @hallecarey1​ @tom-holland-is-bae​ @adayasgeorgia​

[homestuckexamination]

I think the problem with personality quizzes is that our understanding and expectations of them are inherently wrong. As you've said, there's no way a quiz can account for every quirk that makes each individual unique. I believe a new definition and purpose is in order. I propose that personality quizzes merely provide a starting point to better understand someone, be that oneself or someone else. It provides nothing more than a foundation of understanding. It's very similar to the gender binary in this way; it covers a majority of people, but could never account for all the little details that people outside that binary or people who blur the lines of that binary add to the completed structure or building.

With this new understanding, I think official personality quizzes can be taken a little more seriously. However, I can't say the same of classpecting. Classpecting doesn't have any canon definitions for its classes, and I don't believe the aspect definitions say enough on their own to make up for that. The foundation of classpecting is like moulding clay, not yet baked into a suitable building material. Almost everything we know about classpecting has been gleaned through fan interpretation, and subject to personal interpretation. This is a good thing in my eyes. It's what makes classpecting so appealing to me, but a good foundation requires solid building material and well defined building blocks. Other official personality quizzes have this in canon definitions for what each type is or is not, something that classpecting doesn't have or need.

I suppose this answers my previous question, but I'd like to hear your thoughts anyway.

I feel that's a fair way to feel about Personality Quizzes in general, and while I believe a lot of people treat them like that, there IS a whole other bunch that takes it quite seriously. I've mentioned this about Horoscopes too- I don't think they're an entirely useless thing of course, but when people dig so deep into them that they convince themselves, that somehow, Gemini and Scorpio can never get along for example- Then we have a problem. So I default to downplaying their viability over exalting it, considering I do a lot of Classpect Stuff, and even among other Personality Quizzes, as you said, it's just, kinda Nebulous. It's a vague way for character and Arc Classification that's highly personalizable and dependant on one's interpretation of what each Classpect even Is. I feel even if it was defined, it would still not work since it'd be applying a system meant for fictional character building to a real person.

It's like, it's fun to say you'd be a Rogue or a Cleric in D&D! But that really determines very little about what kind of person you are, y'know? You can build a character and make their Class and Alignment and build everything to your specifications to match what you want them to be like, but the opposite is way hard to do.

[platonicmoonwater00]

frrrr personally i do headcanon peter as asexual but not aromantic(i have an original character of mine that i ship him with), also he actually has a personality!!! omg!! but nah i didnt used to hc peter as ace but i started recently. lemme explain my hc of peter real quick.

first of all, he's a huge drama kid whos good enough to be the star in every play but the "hot" guy who cant act for shit always gets it which really pisses him off. also he plays the drums(i do not take credit for this idea cos i got it form tcoptp) but he isnt in music class bc he started when he was in in primary school and would js be so far ahead of everyone else. also he is like super loyal(ironic ik but i never write canon compliant fics so it's fine) but hes got a really loose tongue so cant always keep a secret, but hes just doesnt think before speaking, hes not malicious.

he was also a huge people pleaser in primary school and at the start of of high school but in like year 8 he was like fuck this and now he seems like a pushover so people get surprised when he goes off at them when they try to walk all over him.

i also hc that after he first started dating his gf they yknow *did the deed* and he was like completely repulsed. he went through a few stages where he was like "maybe i dont really like her" or "maybe it'll get better cos this was our first time" and "holy shit, what's wrong with me" which is a sad one cos theres nothing wrong with him. but eventually he talks to remus about it and remus already had kinda guessed that peter might be ace bc of past comments he'd made. so remus is like just kinda listening and nodding and lets peter get all his feelings out.

personally as soon as i talk to somebody about something thats confusing or frustrating me they dont even need to say anything and i kinda js end up answering my own question or figure out a solution by myself.

so he kind of just ends up realising and is like "OH" and so he does a bunch of research and a LOT of am i ace quizzes and is eventually quite sure of it.

and mind you this was like half a year into his relationship so my man was nervous like he made it into a really bad thing in his head and thought that everybody(especially his gf) would hate him. and he thought she'd break up with him and no one will ever date him again. but eventually remus hypes him up enough to tell his gf and shes from a traditional family but is like insanely open minded even though her family isnt so she hadnt heard of asexuality before but he explians it to her and shes soooo accepting and understanding and i love that for them(her parents are bitches about it when they find out tho after peter and their daughter get married)

sorry i have been waiting for a long time to dump this on someone. but i totally agree, making peter ace or aroace js because you think no one will like him or should be shipped with him cos hes fat is so silly billy like girly he was really nice. i mean even if we're being canon compliant, they genuinely never thought he'd betray them, like ever. and lets be so fr its not like he was a total pushover, i mean if we are still being true to the books(i never am) then james was a stupid kid who had some of his values skewed so he wouldnt have befriended or stayed friends with someone that was completely useless?? and its not only fatphobic to make peter useless like people do but its also kinda acephobic like "oh hes useless and fat and unloveable and no one would want to be with him and i dont want to ship anyone with him imma make him ace ig" like girl no.

and its really weird honestly like i know plus sized people who are super nice and have really good personalities AND i know plus sized people who are really popular and really bitchy. but half of the perceptions of peter are js him being useless and not having a personality? which is stupid bc theyre people, not aliens and they have personalities. is that such a strange concept?? like what???

also i totally agree about the plus sized lily thing like i feel like plus sized lily is SUPPOSED to make us accept our bodies but like a lot of the fanart makes me feel bad about mine. like i have prominent stomach rolls, thick thighs that i hate, back fat and yknow the fat next to your armpits that sticks out when you wear singlets. also i dont exactly have a double chin but you definitely cant see the line of my jaw. i dont have an hourglass figure either. so now im going from oml im supposed to be skinny to hey maybe its ok not to be skinny to oh its ok not to be skinny but im supposed to have a jawline and an hourglass figure????

LIKE WHAT

sorry i did say id explain that 'real quick' but i got carried away

also peter isnt a 'prude'. he drinks and smok3s w33d and goes to party hes js ace. like id also like for us to demolish the stereotype that ace people are goody two shoes pls. like if anyone in the marauders doesnt do ^ that stuff its james lets be so fr.

Fatphobia in the Marauders fandom

I have spoken briefly on this before, but I think perhaps it is time we stop making Peter a prude, or unable to find a date, or "a late bloomer". I'm really fed up of regularly seeing posts saying these things with no explaination or supporting headcanon for why.

I think if you want to make him asexual or aroace for legitimate reasons then that's fine, as someone on the ace spectrum I love seeing good representation, but so often it feels like people do it because they can't think of anyone to ship him with because they don't want to ship someone with the fat kid. It's not because he turns bad later, because he's not bad during the Hogwarts years. But it is consistently Peter, someone who is not conventionally attractive, who is portrayed as some undesired sexless character who betrayed his friends because he couldn't get laid or have some great love like them.

Guess what, fat people date too!! Fat people are capable of having interests that aren't related to food or proving their worth through other ways. "He's fat but it's okay because he's really good at chess". NO. Peter can want to date, Peter can participate in talking about sex, Peter can have a partner and it not be a big deal that "him of all people" pulled someone.

If you don't think that this is a genuine problem in the fandom then you might need to re-evaluate. This is not the representation plus-size people deserve.

"But Lily is made plus-size and gets put in ships, plus-size Lily is hot". Plus-size Lily is still usually drawn in a way that is acceptably fat by society's standards. She's curvy with thick thighs and an hourglass figure, with a jawline and a small stomach. Give me fics of her an apron belly and a double chin and a realistic waist where James or Mary or Pandora or anyone still thinks she is the hottest shit. Please. We deserve this.

[thebookreader12345]

Behind the Scenes

Pairing: Taylor Kinney x Best Friend! reader

Summary: Taylor and Y/N are having a video chat, and together they talk about fun times on set and what it’s like to work in the One Chicago franchise

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: mentions of COVID and injuries

Word Count: 1,039 Words

Note: Y/CN means your character’s name

“This is so weird! It’s like I’m seeing you, but I’m not really seeing you. Ya get what I mean?” I question.

I watched on my computer as Taylor laughed and shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Oh whatever. So, how’s filming going over on Fire?” I ask and lean back against my couch.

“It’s fine. It would be better if you were appearing every once in a while,” Taylor admitted.

A small smile spread across my face. “Well, the same could be said for you. But onto some good news. I am finally getting a storyline with Nick.” Nick Gehlfuss was one of my co-workers on Chicago Med, and along with that, he was a good friend of mine. The problem was, out of our five seasons of working together, we hardly had any scenes with each other. My character started off as an ED doc, which you would think would mean I would have had scenes with Nick, but they were rare. And then, halfway into season three, I became a cardio fellow, so my storyline intertwined with Colin Donnell, who played Connor Rhodes. For the past few seasons, my character was mostly seen with him, but because Connor wasn’t on the show anymore, my character was branching out, and this upcoming season, she’s thinking about going back down to the ED where her and Will are going to cross paths.

“That’s cool. I’m happy for you,” Taylor confessed. “I know how much you’ve wanted to work with Nick.”

“What about you though? Any interesting storylines on Fire?” I quiz.

Taylor nodded. “Uh, yeah. Miranda and I have got a good storyline coming up, which should be interesting. And of course Jesse and I always have stuff to film together. Everything’s just so weird though with COVID and what not. How is it filming over on Med with COVID?”

“It’s not too different from normal life, actually. COVID is one of the main issues addressed in this upcoming season, so we’re taking a lot of things that happened in real life and incorporating them into the show. For a few scenes, I do have to wear a mask and act with it on, which is kind of weird, but it’s the new normal these days, so it doesn’t bother me too much,” I explain. “How about you guys over on Fire? Are you incorporating COVID into the show?”

“Not as much as you guys, but yeah,” Taylor answered. “When we do scenes with fires and car accidents and stuff, we sometimes wear neck gaiters, but when we’re filming at the Firehouse we don’t really reference the pandemic much. Our paramedics though, Kara and Adrian, our newest cast member, have to wear them a lot for scenes. So we’re putting COVID into the show, but it’s not like you guys where it’s a major plotline.”

“Well, onto other things, tell me about your favorite scene we filmed together,” I declare.

“There was a scene in an episode of Med where Herrmann got stabbed that was pretty fun to film. I think it was something along the lines of Will telling Jay his opinion on what Connor should’ve done with Herrmann. Jay then tells Kelly, and Connor finds out, and somehow Y/CN got involved. That was pretty funny because your character got mad at me for going behind Connor’s back and whatever else happened,” Taylor informed me.

“No way! I was going to say a scene from that same episode,” I exclaim.

“Wait, really?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah,” I reply. “I liked the scene towards the end though, the one where Y/CN and Kelly have an almost intimate moment. She’s comforting him while he’s freaking out over Herrmann, and she assures him that everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Oh yeah. That was the episode where everyone thought Y/CN and Kelly were going to get together afterwards,” Taylor remembered.

I laughed. “Right. But it was just our chemistry that made the scene feel that way. My favorite episode though was the I Am the Apocalypse one, which was the backdoor pilot for Med. That was the first time Nick and I got to work together, and we became really good friends before we started filming the episode which made things hard because in that episode, him and I had disagreements about how to treat your character, who had been hurt.”

“That was also a pretty good one. All right, next question. Who has been your favorite cast member to work with on your show?” Taylor questioned. “Let me guess. You’re going to say Nick.”

I shook my head. “I was actually going to say Colin. I loved filming scenes with him, and we always goofed off in between takes. Nick is fun to film with too, but I would go with Colin. How about you?”

“Jesse, obviously,” Taylor responded. “We’re best friends, and we hang out all the time, so it’s nice getting to do scenes with him, especially the ones where our characters lecture each other.”

.........................................

“Last question. Would you want to do more crossovers in the future?” Taylor quizzed.

“For sure,” I say. “They’re always so fun. It’s so cool getting to interact with people from all three shows. I always look forward to appearing in episodes of Fire and P.D. Don’t get me wrong, I love my castmates, but getting to hang out with people from the other shows is always a good time. And of course, it’s always funny to see you get a bit jealous like you did that time I had a bunch of scenes with Alberto and not you.”

“I was not jealous,” Taylor countered.

“Yeah you were. I had one scene with you that day and like three with Alberto because of a small storyline, and you were pissed,” I state.

“Okay, maybe I was a little pissed,” Taylor spoke. “But only because when you come on Fire, it’s because you have a scene with me. So, this has been fun.”

“I know. I really hope we’ll be able to see each other in person sometime soon,” I admit.

“Me too. Bye, Y/N,” Taylor concluded and waved at me from his end of the video.

“Bye, Taylor,” I chirp and end the call.

_________________________________

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[aprileclipsestudios]

I’m an Ace Lesbian

Hey everyone, it’s Kerris! Ok, so, I realized I was ace back in May, it wasn’t very hard to figure that out. I had a lot harder of a time figuring out who I was romantically attracted to, though. So, when I first put a label on myself back in 2021, I labeled myself as Pansexual (I hadn’t realized I was ace yet) and nothing really made me question it until August. In August I realized I might be a lot more into non-men and I debated if I was a lesbian until about the end of September when I settled on the thought that I was omni. However, when I was in this debate I was basing it on mostly fictional crushes and a few crushes I had on girls at school. Then, on Monday night my brain decided to start this debate up again. On Tuesday and Wednesday I watched a bunch of videos, took quizzes, and looked on Tumblr for answers. What ended up settling this was when I learned lesbians can have crushes on fictional men. 

I think my subconscious was thinking about the possibility even back in June, though because when I create OCs I put part of myself into them (personality, sexuality, etc.) so when I created my TOH OC Rowan, I thought I was just putting the ace part of me in her, but I guess not.

Something I think might have helped me figure this out is Amity Blight and Luz Noceda. I have crushes on both of them and it makes me so happy to see this kind of rep in a kids show and might have figured this out earlier in life if I had something like this when I was younger. The first gay character I was ever introduced to was Nico di Angelo when I was in the 5th grade. 

Yeah, so anyways, in conclusion, I figured out I was a lesbian this week!