#I can tell you about the other ones if you're curious-

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.

Let's see.

"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"

Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?

Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph

Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist

Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species

Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon

Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy

Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance

Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit

In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.

"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"

Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:

She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.

Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.

Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1

Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.

Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).

In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.

"She's so unfair to Jake!"

Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?

Also:

She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.

They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.

Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?

They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say

She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.

In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.

"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"

Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.

"She spends too much time moralizing!"

Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.

"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"

Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.

In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Absolutely! I'll also include some gems from the notes so far.

First, to expand on what I mentioned earlier, horses make a huge number of vocalizations, not just neighs. A whinny is a loud shrill greeting call usually communicating over distance, a neigh is similar to a whinny but lower in pitch and also seeks a response form herd mates, a nicker is a quieter and even lower rumbling affiliative greeting or request for interaction (or for treats).

Here is one video on horse vocalizations including lots of others such as snorts and groans and sighs and squeals.

Horses greet by touching noses and blowing air at each other to get a good sniff. They like to explore new items with their nose and lips, and their top lips are very good at manipulating objects (for horse crimes such as trying to undo a latch or steal a treat out of your pocket or a hat off your head). Also horse snoots are extremely soft and velvety and good to pet, would recommend.

Horses. Love. Scritches.

They're prey animals and take their cue from whoever is leading their herd, which as the human means you! If you're nervous when riding the horse WILL be able to tell and will be nervous themself and might dump you off. Alternatively, a horse that is relaxed and well trained will often do their very best to keep you on their back and compensate if you fuck up.

Here is a video on horse body language, and from the same creator here is a video on the basics of horse care, and here is one on riding fundamentals. Lots of good stuff on her channel.

#free research advice for this: look up endurance racing#specifically the tevis cup#that will give you an indication of how fast the fittest horses on the planet can cover 100 miles over rough terrain @teddywesworl

#fun fact endurance riders who do 100 mile races (160km) will take about 14-15 hours#that’s faster than a walk but not as fast as a canter#they’re averaging a fast trot#and those are the peak endurance horses#while they do sections at faster paces they are not galloping the race @telecommunikate

These two sets of tags make great points about what the highest level of endurance looks like for horses. The Tevis cup is a US race, here is a documentary on it.

#Also PLEASE use reference for people holding reins when drawing a comic or animation I beg of you#how can DISNEY with twenty gagillion dollars still get it wrong????#look at a PIC of a RIDER @inebubble please share additional details of whichever disney film fucked this up cause now I'm curious

There are two primary ways to use the reins to communicate to a horse, I was taught to ride western and primarily use neck reining with split reins, which uses the pressure of the reins on the side of the neck to communicate direction indirectly. The other option is direct reining, which puts very slight direct pressure on the bit (or a bitless bridle/halter) to cue directions. The difference is explained here in this short video, and there is a longer explanation of the correct way to hold and use reins when riding english here in this video. Reins are not the only option to communicate a command or cue, it's also important to communicate through pressure on their sides by gently squeezing your thighs and nudging with your knees and adjusting your seat. Spurs if used at all are ONLY used for very gentle tapping, if you dig spurs into a horse's sides you're a dick.

Both @qh and @rival-the-rose brought up gaited horses. Some breeds of horses are bred to have additional or different gaits from the standard four of walk trot canter and gallop (here is a video explaining the standard gaits).

Here is a video of an American saddlebred demonstrating a saddle rack, here is a saddlebred doing a much faster saddle rack. Here is a video about paso finos demonstrating their particular gaits used in show contexts. Here is a paso fino gait in a natural setting (with two horses trotting nearby for comparison), and here is a baby showing it off. Both these types of gaited horses provide a much smoother ride than a trot on a non-gaited horse.

@happilyeveraftereveryday shared this great tiktok about having this exact sort of experience reading a book where the author has clearly never ridden a horse.

#an author I love had a line about being easy on their horses and walking up hills and then cantering down. and it totally broke my#immersion in what I was reading @whywishesarehorses thank you for sharing this truly unfortunate writing mistake. Going at speed down an incline on horseback is super duper dangerous and and difficult and likely to harm the horse. There's a movie that's basically a western filmed in Australia called The Man From Snowy River that has a famous climactic sequence where the MC takes the huge risk to gallop his horse down a mountainside which they had to film through camera angle trickery because no one should ever actually attempt such a stunt.

Regarding the specific topic of writing horses in fantasy novels, two authors that I think do an excellent job of this are Robert Jordan and Robin McKinley. Someone in tags also mentioned Christopher Paolini being good at portraying horses, and if anyone has other examples of writers who do it right, please add them in the replies!

And I will finish this post off with some silly and fun horse videos.

Horses playing and chasing and bucking around a field and another on the same theme and one more of horses playing in snow.

A very sweet and impressive coming out video where the rider is riding liberty (bareback without a bridle/halter) carrying a pride flag and her horse is running at a dead sprint. (inline link won't work so: https://www.tiktok.com/@ that.blue.roan/video/7124394468098313477?lang=en also on tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/lgbt-tiktoks/691501197160546304?source=share)

Another incredibly skilled liberty display with a man working 6 horses in an arena at once performing groundwork tricks

This very accurate voiceover of two horses who are scared of a rabbit.

This person is a comedian and her entire shorts library features her horses engaging in shenanigans and hijinks. (also a donkey)

And finally the most important horse video on youtube: Horse kicks tree, farts on dogs, then runs away.

God I wish more fantasy writers knew how horses work.

‘After a couple hours at a solid gallop they arrived-‘ after galloping for multiple hours??? That horse is fucking dead what are you TALKING about. Have you ever tried sprinting for multiple hours at a time?????? If you are traveling long distances by horseback you are keeping at a walk with an occasional trot and an even more occasional canter, you are not galloping the poor beast the whole way there I don’t care how cool the aerial shots of galloping horses look in film.

Also they make more noises than just neighing. For the record. Since I’m on the subject.

[shoukokus]

What if dorm leaders were firefighter readers?

Who performed dangerous tasks in her world.

(For example from the TV series 911)

Translate

Interesting! And I assumed that this meant that they're with the reader, sorry if I misinterpreted it!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is initially very impressed when you tell him, a person who went through great measures to help other people? It has him beaming with pride

But as more stories come out, telling him about various dangerous stunts you pulled, he'd be a bit worried.

Guess he should just be glad that you made it to Twisted Wonderland safely

Then your old habits start resurfacing and he is a mess

Please don't climb that massive tree to save a cat, he can just use magic! You get down RIGHT NOW

One day Ace and Deuce start a small kitchen fire, and you're racing to help, with Riddle hot on your heels. Luckily Trey put it out, but you were assessing the aftermath like a professional

Riddle is just happy that Trey got there first, otherwise he might have just let Ace and Deuce burn, because he was NOT going to let you near that fire

Yes, he trusts you and your experience, but that doesn't mean he wants you to continue putting yourself in danger.

Please take a step back, he can't have the love of his life getting burned. You'd have a fire AND Riddle having a heart attack at the same time

Leona Kingscholar

He doesn't think much of it at first

He knew his herbivore had a past life, but it didn't matter now, even if they did something impressive

He might boast about it if the opportunity came up, like sure your significant other can cook, but MINE saved people

When you start pulling dangerous stunts however, it stops

No, you don’t need to grab a pail of water to help fight wildfires in his home country

No, you cannot scale the side of NRC to help a baby bird

If you insist on helping something, just let him do it please

He’ll start keeping you in closed areas for longer, like his room or the gardens. Just the two of you means no danger that you’ll want to leap head first into

I mean he kept you to himself before, but now with a reason, he’s a bit more… insistent

Azul Ashengrotto

He freezes up when you first tell him your previous job

You… were in danger every time you went to work? Please say sike right now

He starts noticing different scars or hearing your stories in a new light, and it scares him

Azul just prays that it’s all behind you, and the new life you have with him is a quiet and safe one

If there’s even a whiff of danger, Azul is pulling you away, he is not letting you put your life on the line for someone else

Don’t you know how important you are??

If you’re really worried or serious about helping, you can direct the twins, he guesses they’re expendable :)

He’ll want to have a sit down discussion about it. To tell you that you’re safe with him and he wants it to stay that way

His heart couldn’t take it, so you’ll have to compromise if you want to continue helping people after NRC

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is just really entranced, he loves listening to your stories and passion for what you did

He'll want you to tell him all about it while he lays in your lap

He's not concerned about it honestly, if you were trained and did it professionally, doesn't that mean you're the best at it?

If you wanted to do it in the future, after graduation, that's fine with him! You'd have the freedom to do whatever you wanted when you marry him

Jamil is the one who tells him that your job was obviously very dangerous, and it makes Kalim pause for a moment

So when he expresses concern for the first and only time, all he wants is reassurance

Just tell him that his first instinct was right, that you were trained and were the best at what you did! It gets him beaming again right away

He's a bit of a natural danger magnet, so you're a great match for him in a way

Jamil is glad that someone else can get Kalim out of danger, and you'll do it proudly

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is curious, but wary, he'd like more details please

Okay, absolutely not. That is your past and will stay that way, understood?

He needs a significant other that is always by his side and perhaps NOT running into burning buildings?

If you get upset with him, he'll attempt to appease you and reason with you.

It's not like it's not impressive, but you're in a whole other world now. You can explore all kinds of options!

The truth is though he's worried. All he wants is for you to be safe. What is he supposed to do if you run off and die to save someone else?

You're the first person he's ever cared about like this, so deeply, so let him worry a little

He's all about taking care of yourself and healthy routines, and dangerous work is not part of that routine

Vil's ultimate goal would be to just ease you into a more peaceful way of life, right by his side

Idia Shroud

Probably immediately makes a joke about his hair. "Can you put me out?"

"What?" "What?" Realizes what he said, then realizes what YOU said. You did what now?!

That's all behind you, right? RIGHT?

Definitely freaks out, he knows how dangerous fires can be, the damage they can do, the hurt they can cause

Look, who he is to stop you from following your dreams and goals but maybe there could be less... imminent life threatening situations?

Idia doesn't want to show it, but thinking about you in those scenarios gives him a lot of anxiety

He should feel proud when you help someone out, but the truth is, he's always going to be afraid you won't come back to him

Might have Ortho follow you around and... always be a convenient helping hand. His robot little brother can do things more safely, that's all!

Just... keep the heroics to a minimum yeah?

Malleus Draconia

He's really quiet when you first tell him, like eerily so

"And you've been... injured performing these tasks?" Malleus asks. You say sure, it happens, but you had training and a team behind you

Normally he loves hearing all about you and your human stories, but this? Not so much

It worries him, and makes him wonder if you're more prone to danger than he thought

As his future spouse, you need to be far from any such thing

Doesn’t even entertain the idea of you getting back into that field, nope nope nope

You’re going to have knights by your side to take care of everything!

That thought makes him pause though, hmm you were like a knight, protecting others and that’s quite valiant…

Okay that is pretty impressive and perhaps a title could be given to you to honor your deeds, but at the end of the day you're going to be a co-rule of Briar Valley, and your future husband is not letting you near danger

Requests are open!

[mrclairdycat]

Jayvik Headcanons! ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶

(You can use these for your fics, art or whatever, I don't mind! Tell me or tag me if you do though 'cause I'd love to see it/read it.)

Jayce is naturally good with kids. Viktor is awkward with them, but for some reason the kids love him. They often want touch or try his cane or ask curious questions and their parents deem it as disrespectful, but he always assures them they can and gladly lets them. He also loves to say playful lies like "Actually don't tell anybody this but I've acquired the powers to teleport. I just have to act like a normal human being among the public." Or, better yet, he tells them he's actually an alien. HOWEVER... Viktor hates newborns. He hates when he's forced to cradle them in his arms. Too much slobber, shit and vomit. You can't even talk to them and know there's some kind of understanding between you and them. Jayce, on the other hand, could have a baby shart in his arms and still be like "awww!" He also loves to play with them theatrically.

Viktor is a HUGE Doctor Who fan. It's basically all he ever watches. Jayce is more of a Holiday Movies guy or series with Comedy, Romance or both, especially soap operas, but he was once forced to watched Doctor Who and now he's hooked too.

Jayce is the only one who finds Viktor's dry and dark humor, especially directed at himself, funny. He finds it so refreshing since posh people's humor is extremely boring. Plus, he understands that Viktor would prefer making light of his bad situation to cope and it's not his place to tell him what to joke and not joke about.

Although they mostly lock in and work hard all night in the lab, the sleep deprivation makes them find ANYTHING funny. Sometimes they end up in an endless loop of laughing fits because both of them are so sleep deprived they can't properly say words anymore.

Speaking of, they probably share all their deepest secrets on a whim but don't remember anything the next day, as if they were totally drunk or something.

Also, they cover each other up if they find one of them has fallen asleep. Often times, however, Viktor finds himself magically spawning in his bed. He never thought much about it, figuring he was so exhausted he probably doesn't remember going home, when in reality it was Jayce that carried him home to make sure his body wouldn't be in pain in the morning.

When Viktor is mad at Jayce he abuses that disabled card. Sometimes he publically humiliates him by pretending he's a bad person that doesn't help his disabled friend with anything. In reality, if he tried to pick something that fell for him, he would be met with the smack of his cane.

Speaking of, acts of service is Jayce's way of flirting. He's an extrovert, but he's not confident at all. He never says his feelings first, just acts especially nice towards someone with numerous gifts, praise and help. Viktor thought he was just being ableist.

Again, speaking of, Viktor is more of a words of affirmation guy. However, when they got together, they have scheduled days within the week where Viktor HAS to accept help and be spoiled. He knows its Jayce's love language by now, so, even if he finds it condescending, he's happy to let him have those days to let it all out.

Sometimes Jayce presents Viktor a complex equation because he loves seeing him explain how to solve it. He just loves listening to him yap.

Viktor has a secret passion for astronomy. Can name you every star. Jayce has a secret passion for birdwatching. Can name you every bird. He'd also love falconry. Tbh he adores animals in general.

Viktor despises Astrology. Jayce loves it. He likes to piss him off by saying "You're acting like your sign right now."

Jayce loves pop and reggaeton, meanwhile Viktor thinks classical music is superior to anything else. He especially listens to it because it is scientifically proven it helps with focus. He hates when he wakes up in the morning to him cleaning and blasting El Taxi or something.

Viktor also loves theatre musicals. His favorites are Ride the Cyclone, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. He also loves plays like Hamlet or live orchestras.

Jayce is very good at cooking thanks to his mom's teachings. Plus he just really enjoys it. Viktor is the type who finds it a chore and eats only because he has to (he doesn't even do that most days). Jayce often brings extra food when he packs lunch so Viktor can have some too :) he also loves to cook for him.

Jayce is naturally good at dancing. Adores Just Dance and group dances (Viktor always wins Just Dance without even moving his legs). Viktor is naturally good at playing instruments. He likes to focus on what his hands can do so he can feel better about his bad leg.

Jayce loves head massages and scritches. He's a sucker for physical touch. Viktor likes to give him that while he's reading notes or a book.

Jayce is a dog person who has no problems with cats. Viktor is a cat person who kinda hates dogs since they drool all over the place and lick his face.

Viktor never cries, but when he does it's GUT wrenching because of all the bottled up emotions. Jayce, on the other hand, cries for absolutely anything, especially movies. He could see a child with their mom on a random stroll and shed tears saying "they're so happy :("

Ximena (Jayce's mom) adores Viktor. He always tells Jayce to invite him over whenever they can so he can spend less time alone and even encourages him to sleep over. She just can't bare the thought of someone's baby struggling on their own and not being taken care of.

Jayce mostly overthinks when he's trying to fall asleep. The silence is always broken by him spiraling saying things like "do you think I'm annoying?" simply for a stranger not responding after he complimented them or something. The thought of someone hating him drives him insane. He wants to be liked by everyone. People pleaser core.

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Dreams Don't Lie

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 10)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

It all started with a silly dream. How could it get this out of control?

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 4.1k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

"I know your deepest, darkest secret."

You spun around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice which had suddenly spoken behind you. But all you found was a cat lounging in the doorway, looking up at you with a sullenly bored expression.

"Nice try. But I don't have any," you replied, slightly bemused. It was true – there was no point in having secrets when you sucked at keeping them.

The cat's tail twitched impatiently. "Oh, but you do. It is a secret so clandestine, so private, that not even you know about it."

"A secret that I don't know about? And what would that be?" You challenged, your tone skeptical. It didn't even make any sense.

The cat took its sweet time before answering, thoroughly licking its paw as if to savor the moment. Then it locked eyes with you. "There's something you love more than tea."

You gasped, horrified. "Take that back!"

"Why should I? You know it's true." The cat looked thoroughly unimpressed by the accusing finger you had jabbed in its direction. "As a matter of fact, it's been true for a while now."

You frantically shook your head, trying to erase the words from your mind. But they kept replaying, growing louder and louder each time, until they melded together in a deafening choir, all chanting the same few words: "There's something you love more than tea."

With a start, you jolted awake, bathed in cold sweat. A wave of relief washed over you when you realized you were safely tucked in your bed, and it had all been nothing more than a stupid dream. You shook your head again. "How absurd," you mumbled. How absolutely, completely, utterly ridiculous. Tea had been there for you when no one else had. It had gotten you through your darkest hours. How could anything possibly hold a candle to that?

But a little bit of doubt remained, gnawing at you. After all, dreams were the royal road to the unconscious, and all that. Maybe your subconscious was trying to tell you something. But what? That you were secretly a coffee person? You shuddered at the thought. How blasphemous.

It was probably just a dream. Still, you were too shaken to fall back asleep, so you got up to brew yourself a nice, hot cup of tea.

When you came back in, your roommates were already awake, getting dressed and ready for the day.

"How come you're up so early?" Nanaba asked in astonishment. You usually slept right through the early morning hustle and bustle, only getting up at the last possible minute.

"It's nothing. Just a bad dream," you replied offhandedly and settled back down on the lower bunk of the bunk bed you shared with Nifa, cradling the steaming cup of tea in your hands.

"Oh yeah? What was it about?" Nanaba inquired.

You sighed. "I don't really know. It was all pretty confusing."

Nanaba gave a brief nod, sensing you weren't too eager to talk about it. She slipped on her uniform jacket and headed for the door.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "What do you love the most?"

Nanaba stopped with her hand on the door handle. She turned around, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I–" she began, but Lynne was faster.

"Mike, of course," she snickered.

Nanaba shot her a dirty look, but then begrudgingly conceded, "…You're probably right about that."

"Ha! I know you so well. I may not understand your infatuation with that glorified sniffer dog, but I sure know you."

Nanaba just rolled her eyes at Lynne's playful jab.

"What were you going to say?" You asked Nanaba, still curious.

"Honestly? I don't know. Most likely something different, like my family."

You gave her a puzzled look. "How come?"

Nanaba shrugged. "Sometimes these sort of things can be hard to admit. Other people might even know you better than you know yourself at times."

You turned your cup of tea in your hands, trying to make sense of her answer. "How could someone else know you better than yourself?"

"Well," Nifa chimed in, "sometimes it's easier to see things from a distance. Plus, we tend to lie to ourselves – say the "right" thing instead of the true thing. Like... there's something within us that holds us back from saying what we really feel. Others don't have that barrier."

You nodded thoughtfully, understanding what she meant.

"And what do you love the most?" Lynne asked, a teasing grin on her lips as she dropped down next to you on the bed.

"Tea," you replied without missing a beat.

Lynne snorted out a laugh. "Of course. Why did I even ask?"

But a flicker of doubt remained.

– –

The thought lingered in the back of your mind even during the scout's daily training session. Today, your squad had been assigned to Titan combat training in the woods alongside squad Levi – usually your favorite type of drill. But this time, your mind just wasn't in it.

You halfheartedly slashed at the nape of the wooden Titan dummy in front of you, barely even leaving a mark as you passed it, shooting forward among the trees.

"What the hell was that? That wasn't even a scratch!" Oluo shouted from a nearby tree.

"Huh?“ You hadn't even noticed, too deep in thought to really pay any attention to your surroundings.

"Off your game today?" Petra asked as she zipped past you.

You looked after her with a blank expression, watching as her green cape fluttered after her in the rush of air before it disappeared among the leaves. You couldn't help but wonder: what did Petra love the most? And did she even truly know what it was?

The green canopy blurred around you as you picked up speed, the gas hissing as you pressed down on the trigger. You absentmindedly shot the grappling hooks into another tree, propelling you forward with a jolt.

A Titan dummy sprang into your vision, looming over you like a sudden shadow – too close, and getting closer still. Adrenaline surged through your veins, jerking you away from your daydreams. You twisted to the side to change your trajectory, but it was too late. The hard wood scraped against the side of your body as you veered right. There was a snap, and a sharp, searing pain shot through your shoulder. All strength left your am. You dropped the trigger. Then the world spun out of control.

You were falling, upended, the air screaming in your ears as you barely whipped past a tree. Desperate to regain your balance, you pushed the remaining trigger, releasing the hook you still had control over. In an instant, you were yanked sideways. Branches scratched over your arms and face as you were swept through the underwood.

Then – a sudden lurch. Your downward plunge came to an abrupt stop as the wire of the remaining grappling hook was pulled taut. It made you swing back and forth violently, scraping your skin against the bark of the tree it was attached to, but you were still suspended in the air.

Upside down, swinging like a pendulum. But still.

The muscles in your abdomen strained as you fought to get back into an upright position. But hanging only by one wire, it was impossible.

"Shouldn't have had that dessert earlier," you mumbled to yourself. All that swinging wouldn't have been easy on an empty stomach, let alone one currently doing a headstand. You really needed to come up with a solution, but the blood rushing to your head didn't exactly help.

"Here goes nothing."

You tried to angle your hip upwards into the right direction, then tapped the remaining trigger lightly, sending the second grappling hook shooting toward the nearest trunk. The hook caught, and you were jerked to the side – the swinging finally stopped.

With two wires holding you, you managed to right yourself straightaway.

Now that you had your balance back, it should be easy – you just had to grab the other trigger currently dangling from your left hip, and you'd be back in the game. But as you tried to reach for it, nothing happened. Your left arm refused to obey, hanging limply by your side like a dead weight, useless. You couldn't move it, couldn't grip.

You were stuck.

Without the trigger, there was no way of releasing the left grappling hook. And if you released the right hook again, you'd just go back to swinging back and forth like a giant pocket watch, tethered to a tree for all eternity.

This was embarrassing.

"Um... Help? Is anybody out there?"

No response. You sighed. Screw your dignity. You needed to be out of here by teatime.

With your right hand, you fumbled for one of the signal flares. For training, it was loaded with a purple shell for emergencies. You held it above your head and pulled the trigger, watching the purple plume of smoke erupt into the canopy above.

On second thought, maybe you should go back to swaying between the trees bottom-side-up. If you kept it up long enough, you might pass out, and then you wouldn't have to be awake for the mortifying rescue.

A fully trained soldier. Injured by a titan made from wood. During a routine training session. You would never live it down.

It wasn't long before you heard the familiar high-pitched sound of the wires whizzing through the air, the sharp hiss of the gas indicating someone going at full speed.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable laughter and mockery of your pitiable state. But it never came.

Instead, there was a warm hand, expertly palpating your injured arm which still dangled uselessly from your side.

"It's dislocated," someone said flatly. You would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Levi," you exhaled, suddenly full of relief. Everything would be alright now.

You opened your eyes to find his face only inches away from yours, studying it with a frown. He raised his hand as though he was going to touch your face, but stopped short, frozen in mid air. "You're all scratched up." His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and it sounded strange somehow, too rough around the edges.

"It's nothing," you replied quickly. "Just a few cuts."

"It's not nothing," he said.

There was something in the intensity of his stare that made your face heat up. Or maybe it was still warm from your upside down escapades. You cleared your throat. "Can you help me get away from here? I'm kind of stuck."

Levi slowly lowered his hand, his gaze drifting away. "Press the right trigger." His hand grasped the other one.

"Now?"

"Now."

You pressed down on it, hard, and for a split second, you were falling, but then a strong hand gripped you, sweeping you out of mid-air. Your world turned upside down once again as you were swung over his shoulder. Next thing you knew, you dangled awkwardly over his back, your face brushing against his green cloak.

"Hold on if you can," Levi said firmly. Your fingers closed around the fabric of the cloak, gripping it tightly. Through it, you could feel the straps of his uniform at his upper back, and you held onto them with your good arm, steadying yourself as best as you could.

The air rushed past you as Levi darted through the forest, expertly changing the hand securing your legs every so often to allow him to shoot both hooks.

The uneven weight distribution didn't seem to bother him at all. That was Levi for you.

"You truly are the best," you told him, but it came out muffled from the cloak fluttering into your face every so often. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Levi didn't reply, but you could feel the muscles in his back tensing through the fabric. He had a lot of them.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you felt a bit dizzy. It was probably because you were flipped over again. And of course, your upturned brain chose this exact moment to make you think of your dream again.

There's something you love more than tea.

But before you could give it more thought, the wind around you died down, and Levi's feet touched down on the ground with a soft thud.

You had reached the edge of the forest.

Levi started walking, your body still draped over his shoulder, legs dangling over his chest.

"Um, you can let me down now. My legs are fine, I can walk," you said, a little flustered.

"You sure?" He sounded like he was frowning again.

"Yep. I'm positive."

Levi stopped and bent at the knees, carefully easing you down from his shoulder until your feet found solid ground again. You placed your good arm on his shoulder to support yourself against him, shifting to a more upright stance. When you looked up, you realized how close you were to him, your chest pressed to his, your noses almost touching. Somehow, you couldn't meet his gaze, but you didn't move away. You felt his heart beat against yours, rapid and wild.

Maybe it had been strenuous to carry you, after all. He'd made it seem so easy.

"Thank you," you murmured. "For rescuing me. And... " You trailed off. Your hand was still on his shoulder. You squeezed it. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble like that."

"Like I'm not used to it by now," he muttered. "We'll talk about this later. Let's get you treated first."

You nodded, finally meeting his eyes, relieved to find no trace of anger in them. There was something else there, something you couldn't place, but it made your chest overflow with warmth, and you suddenly felt like giving him a hug. So you did. You were so close already, all you had to do was wrap your good arm around him.

You felt the muscles in his back tense under your fingertips. They had to be sore from carrying you. You rubbed them gently until they relaxed into your touch.

"I'm so glad you saved me!" You beamed. There was so much gratitude inside you, you didn't know what to do with it. "Thank you so much, I mean it! And while we're being honest, I was starting to feel a bit scared up there. But when you showed up, I knew everything was gonna be just fine."

"Don't be stupid. You don't know that yet," Levi muttered. "You still have to get your arm examined."

"I know, I know." You gave his back a final pat before you stepped back.

Levi was staring at you with his usual non-expression, his gaze lingering on you even as you started walking to where you'd left the horses.

He was silent the entire way, letting you ramble on about your dreams of becoming a porcelain potter should the threat of the Titans ever be purged from this world.

That silence was abruptly broken the moment you tried to climb on your horse. "No."

You turned around, confused. "No?"

"I'm not letting you ride one-handed."

"Oh come on," you protested. "Have you seen me ride? I could do it free-handed! Besides, Jeanie and I are the best of friends!" You gave the horse's neck a rub.

"This is final," Levi said tersely.

"Fine, if you insist." You took Jeanie's reins. "That's gonna be one hell of a walk."

"We won't walk. You can ride with me."

You shot him a surprised look. "You serious?"

"It's safer that way." His voice was calm, reasonable.

You shrugged. "If you say so."

He made you sit in front of him, your back pressed against his chest, his arms on either side of you. It certainly made you feel safe. But as you calmed down, the pain in your left arm grew stronger, settling into a constant, deep ache that was hard to ignore. The pain sharpened in time with each stride of the horse, making your teeth clench against the waves of discomfort.

Levi seemed to sense your distress. "You're in pain," he noted. It wasn't a question.

"Kinda... getting worse," you gritted out.

You felt his hand on your shoulder, steadying you. "Almost there," he said.

By the time you got back to scout's headquarters, you were ready to have your arm sawed off if that would stop the pain.

Thankfully, the medic had a less drastic plan in mind.

"I'm going to reset your shoulder to get it back into its proper position. It won't be pleasant, but afterwards, it will feel much better."

"Sounds good," you exhaled. "Let's get it over with as quickly as possible."

The medic nodded. "Of course."

She pulled your arm slightly away from your body, her hands firm and steady. The pain spiked, intense enough to make your breath catch. You peered at Levi, who was leaning against the wall of the examination room, his eyes fixed on you. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, as if to encourage you. You nodded back, silently signaling that you were ready.

With a sudden movement, the medic rotated your arm, making the joint slide back into its socket with an audible pop. A sharp, searing pain shot through your shoulder, making you gasp, but then it faded, leaving behind a sore, tender feeling which was much more bearable.

"You'll need to rest your arm for about two weeks. I'll get you a sling to help keep it immobilized during that time." The medic opened one of the cabinets, perusing its contents for the sling.

Levi pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer. "You alright?"

"Much better," you said with a smile.

He nodded, letting out a soft breath.

The medic returned to help you put on the sling, carefully tying it behind your neck.

"There, all done." She smiled.

"Yay! Just in time for tea."

"There's not gonna be any teatime today." Levi's tone was sharp.

You looked at him with wide eyes. "What? Why not?" You could really use some tea right now. There was still a dull ache in your shoulder, and now that the initial shock had worn off, you could feel the bruises throbbing on your left side where it had scraped against the wooden Titan.

"You're gonna tell me exactly how this could happen." Levi's arms were crossed as he scrutinized you, his eyes narrowed.

"What happened was…I almost flew straight into a training dummy." You scratched your head sheepishly. "I managed to avoid it at the last minute, but I still scraped it."

"Why?"

"I was distracted."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Distracted by what?"

"I had this strange dream last night, there was this talking cat, and–"

"It doesn't matter," he cut you off. "You don't get to be distracted. If that had been a real titan, you'd be dead."

You nodded. "I know."

"Even in this scenario, you still could've died. Slamming into a wooden wall at the speeds we're moving? If you hadn't dodged–"

"I know that," you said quickly. "It was stupid. Incredibly stupid. It won't happen again. I promise."

For only a brief second, his gaze met yours, brushing you so softly and lightly, it felt like a caress. Then his face hardened. "I don't know if you can. If things like that happen to you during training, maybe you shouldn't be with us on the next expedition."

You stared at him, shocked. "You don't mean that. I've always been nothing but focused during missions. The reason this happened was because it was just training, so I underestimated the danger. It was a mistake. I admit that. But it won't happen again."

"Tell this to Erwin," Levi said curtly. He turned to leave. "You will submit a report about this. So will I. He'll decide from here on. I trust him to make the right call."

The exchange left you frozen in place, stunned.

Going on expeditions was a scout's purpose. Why would he take that away from you?

You shook your head. There was no way you were going to let that happen. You'd talk to Erwin, of course. But first, you had to clear your head. Levi was right: as a scout, you couldn't afford to be distracted. That stupid, silly dream which, for some reason, just didn't let you go – you had to get it out of your mind. It was why you'd ended up in this mess in the first place, taking up space in your thoughts when you should have been focused.

But how? Just turning it over in your mind had done nothing but make it worse. That was when the conversation from this morning popped into your head.

Sometimes it's easier to see things from a distance. Other people might even know you better than you know yourself at times.

You straightened up. Time to ask your favorite scientist for advice.

– –

You entered the lab. It always had a sort of singed smell about it, like something was burning, and today was no exception. The stains on the wall told you there might have been a minor explosion or two.

"Hey-yo!" Hange greeted you with a massive grin on their face, seemingly unbothered by the mess in their lab. As always, it was contagious, and you felt yourself smiling despite yourself.

"To what do I owe the honor?" They put down the beaker they were holding to give you their full attention. When their gaze landed on your sling, they shot you a questioning look, but quickly you waved it off. Later.

"Hange," you began, then hesitated. You took a deep breath. "Do you… Do you think there's something I love more than tea?"

Hange's grin widened. "Something… Or someone?"

You groaned. "Stop it. I'm serious here!"

"So am I. Dead serious, actually." They laughed heartily. "I genuinely think you might be onto something there."

"What do you mean?" You asked curiously.

"Well," they said in a long, drawn out way. "That's for you to figure out. Though I can certainly help, if that's what you want." There was a spark of mischief in their eyes.

"Yep, I definitely want that," you said eagerly. "That's why I'm here."

"Great!" Hange clapped their hands together and leaned forward excitedly.

"Let me start by asking you this: what have you done in your free time these past few months?"

You mulled it over for a few moments. "I guess I've been drawing a lot. Why?"

"That's a very good question! Why, indeed – why have you been drawing so much?"

You shrugged. "It was a good source of income. I needed the extra money."

"And for what, exactly?"

You tilted your head, unsure what Hange was getting at. "To buy Levi the perfect present for his birthday. You know that."

Hange smiled, satisfied. "Oh, you know I do."

You squinted at them, confusion etched into your features.

"Now answer me this: how have you been spending your beloved teatime recently?" They continued, gleefully unfazed by your puzzlement.

"I've been having tea together with Levi…?"

"Exactly!" Hange exclaimed, excitedly pumping her fist into the air.

"Yaay," you said, grinning at her enthusiasm, though you still didn't quite get it. "And that's interesting because…?"

"Don't worry, it should soon become crystal clear! You see, science is all about gathering knowledge and making observations, which in turn build up the basis of an hypothesis. Before we can call this hypothesis a fact, however, it has to be proven by running experiments. So let's do a little thought experiment, shall we?" Hange rubbed their hands in anticipation. There were burn holes in the sleeves of their lab coat.

"Let's imagine there's a giant fire ravaging our sacred headquarters. Can you do that for me?" You nodded. You could also easily imagine who would be at fault for the fire.

"You and Levi are the last people inside, the rest have already evacuated. Which one do you save – Levi or your treasured tea?"

You scrunched up your nose. "That's easy. Levi doesn't need saving."

"Sorry to say, but in this scenario, he absolutely does. Poor guy is passed out due to all the smoke. So which one will it be? You can only save one."

"That's so unrealistic," you protested.

"Just humor me here."

You threw up your hands in mock surrender. "Fine. I'd save Levi, of course."

A face-splitting grin spread over Hange's features. "There you have your answer. You chose him over your prized tea, didn't you?"

Your eyes widened as the realization sunk in. The thing, no – the person you loved more than tea was...Levi.

You loved Levi.

A/n: Yes, it needed a Freudian cat dream and a near-death-experience, where you were literally only hanging by a thread, to get it through your thick skull that you are head over heels for that man :D (or should I say: head over shoulders? By which I of course mean Levi’s strong shoulders xD OK. I’m going to stop now.) Stay tuned for next chapter if you want to know the consequences of your realization xD

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn, @omlyurslvi

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"And you seen him in your class for the first time ever?"

"No. He was always there. I just didn't notice him until after that first encounter." Rioto answered. Iku shakes his head, rubbing his neck, and sighs. Then he has to ask, "Is he blackmailing you, Rioto? Tell us the truth." Iku asked. Rioto widens his eyes and shakes his head, "No! Nothing like that! I meant every word!"

"Okay! So do you know whose he's working for?" Moudo asked, still worried. The three are curious.

"Uh...well..." Rioto looks hesitant, "I-I haven't ask."

"Oh dear.." Moudo's vice general was worried but Iku's vice general was getting angry hearing this. It's wasting their time!

Torahito closes his eyes at that while Iku glares, "And why didn't you? Oh! I know why! Because you either too dumb or you don't want to ask!"

"It wasn't my business to know and Yuta never discussed his side with-"

Then Iku slams his foot, leaving a dent on the floor, startling Moudo and the two vice generals. "WELL! IT'S NOW OUR BUSINESS TOO!" He yelled at Iku making Rioto tremble. Iku points at him, "You don't have the balls to ask him because you're afraid of who he's working for? Because if he did, he will kill you if he wanted to. Hell, he probably using you to get to us! I bet you two morons talk about it and you have no idea what to do so that's why you held this meeting." He points at Junpei and Rioto both with a finger. "So you want to push this shit on us! What is going through your mind? This isn't a game!"

"Sir Iku-"

"I agree with him! He should have said something! He could be still highly dangerous!" he said.

"Or maybe we are over seeing this. Remember, not all people are like what we seen....."

"It is like that! Anyway...where is he?"

"M-my house..." Rioto stammered a bit, trying his best to get his thoughts together.

"YOUR HOUSE!?! HE'S AT YOUR HOME!! ARE YOU CRAZY RIOTO!!" Iku's vice general stood up in horror. Moudo's vice general was worried seeing everyone getting different reactions now.

Iku stands up, "Then let's go over there and ask. If he is Sukuna's goon then I'm kicking his ass for that freaking gut punch-"

"Rioto." Oda's voice cuts through the room and this stops Iku in mid-sentence. "What do you see in this man?" He asked him firmly.

"......" Both vice generals were silent now curious to hear this. What was his reason for this?

"He's strong and kind. At first, his cursed energy is off the charts and it almost scares me. He almost kill me, yes. But I want to fight him again after he uh...warn me to um...not to cause a ruckus on campus. Of course, I got upset because I felt...weak. But fighting him again, I felt....inspired to become stronger. It was different from when I faced other sorcerers." Rioto then adds, "And in a way, he reminds me of you, sir."

Oda's eyelids went up slightly.

"I see."

"Oh my; so that explains a bit. Not many have Sir Oda's type of power. This Yuta must be a very powerful sorcerer.." Moudo's vice general mutters thinking about it. Very powerful.

"......I think we still need to see for ourselves. We should have him come here to speak with us! I don't trust it.." Iku's vice general said with arms crossed. "Besides, theirs no one else more powerful than lord Oda. No one! Not even this Yuta!"

"But what if he is? You know their are very powerful people out there. Some that is hidden, or well known....I get the feeling this young gentlemen is indeed powerful...we will have to see for ourselves..if we can meet him."

"Are you thinking he is that much of a threat!? Ha! He's nothing but a weakling!"

"...And how are you sure? We never met him.." Moudo's vice general said to the other worried.

"You challenged him!? And made some bet!?" Iku's vice general shouted in shock even with the other quiet but shocked too. Though, hearing the story he along with many knew of his 'attack'.

"B-but! He decided to help me when I was coughing, got my inhaler, he took me to his place to rest, and made me a meal. He didn't care about the wager!" Rioto explains.

"Impossible..."

"And after that...well...nothing."

"Is that all?" Torahito asked.

"And he works hard. He's TA on top of that." Rioto said.

"A TA?" Moudo asked.

"Teaching assistant," Shukaku said. Rioto nods, "Yes. He does that and he works hard despite it. He's not.....a bad guy." He said.

"........."

"Hmm, he does sound more heartful than heartless you know. I think he is speaking true words here." Iku's vice general mutters thinking about it even if the other was holding his head.

"Oh so what? You mean that he's willing to be this nice.....assassin yet he could have killed you Rioto.."

"But he didn't as Rioto said.."

".....I..I find it hard to believe. It's like you want us to believe he would even turn himself in to prove that he's dedicated to him or something!"

[verygoodcomments]

oh yes on the topic of submissions...

i had one from someone in my inbox from YONKS ago that tumblr is not letting me post for some reason. that person also sent me an ask about whether i could provide links to the videos/places i found the comments on (i would just answer their ask but it explicitly references their submission which, again, tumblr won't let me post... and also it was from ages ago) so let me answer that here

unless i think that mentioning the source amplifies the comment, or provides some humorous context, i usually don't do that as a general rule. if someone asks for the comment source and i still remember what it was, i'll tell them, but i don't tend to mention it explicitly on the post itself

i don't tend to redact pfps or usernames (to give some form of credit to the authors of the comments, sometimes they make the comment better, they're already public on the internet & usually posted on videos by youtubers exponentially more popular than my blog & usually post obscure comments i had to scroll for quite a while to find anyway, it's fun when someone recognizes their own username, etc etc), so this is an alternate method of security against people trying to be weirdos to the featured commenters. most of my posts come from youtube, which doesn't even have a direct messaging system anymore, which is simultaneously why i feel fairly comfortable leaving pfps/usernames unredacted on these comments and why i feel it's better if i try not to provide TOO many context hints at least in the actual text of the post. just on the off chance some bitter weirdo wants to try being a bitter weirdo, you know? and if someone goes all the way out of their way to try and track these comments down explicitly to bully these people, then at this point, it kinda seems like redacting that stuff wouldn't have helped anyway. while i definitely do not condone harassing anyone from here, i also... don't think it'd exactly be My fault there, and entirely the fault of this hypothetical extremely brainrotted rando. this has, to my knowledge, never once happened, but just putting that out there

i do give little hints or context notes in the tags on occasion, under the general assumption that anyone following this blog knows that this is a place of comment appreciation, an art gallery of Internet Humans. usually it only extends to mentioning the youtuber or what type of video it was, but as a general statement. this is the other part of my philosophy here: i enjoy hunting for comments as a sort of peoplewatching-esque hobby and i think other people should try it out (so long as they have the self-restraint to NOT reply to people even if they make you mad. it's never worth it man.). i also think it'd be a fun treat for someone to only get a hint, figure out what video it was, and then go on their own hunt and see the comments in the wild. i often skip over Loads that don't quite make the cut so you'll probably find something else fun in there

does that make sense? it does to me. anyway if anyone ever wants to know where i found a comment just ask and i'll tell you, so long as i remember. fair warning, the older the post the comment is on, the more likely i am to have forgotten what specific video it was. i usually at least have a vague idea of the original poster and/or the content/topic of the video but sometimes i don't

[indigodawns]

.

[superconductivebean]

Just my thoughts—as a fandom hermit of sorts.

Creating for nobody but yourself is actually discouraging when it's done repulsively. You'll feel its hard slap later down the line—unless your inner reader began to enjoy you as an author. They will gradually subside your inner critic and might teach them few lessons in how to appreciate maybe not the work itself—who of us doesn't have an one we dislike in some way?—but the craftwork went behind its creation.

How to do that?

Surprisingly easy.

Watch your creative decisions. Introspect. See yourself in your work.

You are inseparable in some way or another, your reflection is present within it, and by that I imply how you felt writing it and why did you think something would or wouldn't work. The only one who usually know is you, so, if you feel something is wrong, it probably is. The best is the enemy of the good, yes, but I'm not talking about perfectionism. I'm talking about the need to listen to that tingle and being able to assess it before editing.

Perfectionism is, in a sense, artistic pessimism. It tells you everything is wrong but it can't be an objective truth. Then some scenes must be wrong, and alright, good, the field is narrowed down. Which ones? Where? Why? At that point, put the work away for a day or two, then re-open, re-see, realise, that yes, that could be improved, except it isn't a scene. It's a sloppy word choice. It changed the sentence, that avalanched into a little rearrangement, and voila, everything works.

You fight the pessimistic outlook with a little bit of rest.

The more you learn how to treat your work, the more you might grow excited to try new things and not because you want to show them to the world but first to yourself.

That little part of you is who actually matter. Learn to love these little emotion abstractions. Care for the little guy, nurse them, feed them different ideas, styles, work them up to your master and see yourself forming in directions you'd never thought you would be able to simply because them—you—wanted to try something new. It would not matter if those were successful or not; when the entire process is a journey, the output's performance begins to matter very little.

Besides, the little guy would want company—and that's when other people come in. The reader doesn't like negative responses or no responses at all, true. Know who does? Your inner critic.

They're all too eager to overthink things and they're the perpetrator of your pessimism. So make them analyse why something clicks for many people and why something goes under their radar, make them a little analytics-building machine (which is also a skill), and just keep its outputs close in case you're curious how different fandoms or communities work. It's mostly a useless information. But you will be certain about things, and certainty brings comfort.

It will help to find readers in case you'd need more, too. Or if you'd like to meet someone new. But is it a guaranteed method? No, it isn't. Sometimes you'll write the most influential fandom monsterfic and all these people will pass by. Othertimes you'd write the smallest fic in the fandom but all its people will get around it because they liked your take on things or became curious with your ideas—and they can actually stuck around. You may never know. Fandom isn't business, it is rather a wild fair with barely predictable events in its main mystery.

Besides.

You can't make yourself a miracle to everyone; but be the miracle to yourself, and people will notice it and will try to comprehend you. Be Original, they say. They lie. They want the same jacket but red. Or the same jacket but sewn from kelps. Be Familiar But Be Outland-ish. Do your thing, that everybody else does, in your own fascinating way. Be the artist after all, be that bitch and leave people with the art-shaped holes in their thoughts.

I used to play an instrument once. I was bad at it, well, I was taught poorly and was only ever learning how to play from the sheets. It never go outwith or far and the instrument is long-sold, but I'm still able to recall the emotions I had while playing it. Heartbeat was the metronome, the hands were going in perfect synch, the entire body was able to feel the timings, and at some point, it wasn't simply the flow and going along with it. It was being the flow. The architect behind its creation—well, yes, the music wasn't mine, but being able to recreate it and make it sound as it supposed to sound was utterly captivating, enamouring, absolutely wondrous experience.

Years later I became enamoured with the writing—the process of it. If I manage to build the flow correctly and sail down my own rivers with little to no bump, unless planned, I'm overjoyed and amazed.

But will it go far? How well will it perform? Sometimes I do care if I know people might be interested, but beyond that, it's just doing its thing and bringing me joy because it's a puzzle, because it's a never-ending fascination—and because it's even more than that when done in the completely different tongue. And people take to it. Because it looks fun, perhaps, or it's something they had rarely seen before done in the language, or maybe it's just the way I tend to pick words and arrange them. I always get different answers. But what I know for certain: that something I found within me works both for me and people liking my things.

That what matters.

It all might sound a tad bit mental but it's so important to be in harmony with yourself as an author, as a reader, and as your own critic—who else knows you as much as you? Don't forget the people you have—the crowds will come and go, but the friends will stay.

Maybe this is a hot take, but as creative people, our #1 priority in our work should be ourselves.

It is not, AND SHOULD NEVER BE, what would get us the most engagement. Dispel "content creation," popularity, and monetization from your brain. Write, paint, draw what you want to! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!

The people who resonate with it will eventually show up. But the people who don't? Who cares???? The art you personally create is meant to help you heal, to help you express, to bring you joy and pain!!!!

You need to learn how to work on something because you deeply care for it and can revel in that self-satisfaction. Of course recognition feels fucking great! We all want it. We are humans, but you need to stop creating with the idea of other people consuming your work!!!

Give into the art movement. Create a renaissance for yourself. Fuck other people. Be that bitch! People are not going to be in your lives forever, and when you're left to your own devices, you should be able to look at what you've created and fucking love it.

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder on top of him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?"

a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[pricesprincess]

part two here

you tell your new group of friends you made at work about your ex-husband and what to expect when he drops off your daughter.

who is a carbon copy of her dad and a daddy's girl all the way. "he's broody and doesn't say much but does everything for simone."

you were excited to finally see her after a weekend away from her, the two days were silent. "that's him?" one asked with a slack jaw.

she looked at you as did the other women whom you ignored as simone wiggled free from her dad's arms to run over to the front desk thankfully the waiting room was empty for her to do so.

simon stood in the back with a pink, purple, and green bag hanging from his fist as he watched his daughter snuggle up to you so closely. he felt his heart flutter like it does each time this happens.

though you've been pushing for a divorce he refused to sign the papers and you were tired of fighting him. "hi baby girl, did you have a good time with daddy?" you asked tucking a piece of hair behind her ear with a soft smile and kisses that you peppered on her forehead.

"i did! daddy got me a new doll and took me out for ice cream! i also got to hang out with uncle soap!" she giggled and glanced at her dad who came closer giving you the bag with a silent gaze.

the women behind you watched with a curious glaze in their eyes as simon looked at you like there wasn't a separation between you both. "i'm sure soap loved that, you're very much loved honey bug."

simone grinned and greeted your coworkers with a wave before turning to run back to simon letting him scoop her up in a tight hug. he dreaded this with a passion. "i'll see you later princess." he sighed.

you serving him papers still left a hole in his heart and this only widens it each time he had to tell you both goodbye. "okay daddy i'll call you tonight! i love you!" she murmured and hugged his neck.

coming closer you took simone from simon and looked at him. "we can talk tonight." you promised giving him hope that the spark could come back.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3

[iam-anordinary-human-orami]

I really want a scene like this in tsc2 where Neil seems to call Jean more often to check up on him and the floozies are perplexed "Why is Josten calling you?" "You guys close or sth?" "You still haven't told us what happened when he whisked you away" "we are worried sick Jean, how can you keep us in the dark?" And then Cat will say sth like "are you not sharing what you're talking to Josten about cause you're embarrassed?" Jeremy being a worried mother hen "is he bothering you?" And Jean keeps shutting everything down telling them not to worry, and then Laila as a joke says "is he flirting with you?"

And Jean responds with "I hope not. I don't think his boyfriend would take it well"

Everyone immediately stops what they are doing. "Im sorry, his WHAT?"

All hell breaks lose. Cat is shaking Laila "Josten is FRUITY?!", Jeremy is like "He has a boyfriend?" Laila being like "in the year that he joined the foxes and almost died in the hands of his serial killer dad, he got a boyfriend??? How???" And then Cat and Laila start asking questions, Jeremy trying to calm them down but also being curious, Jean is like "Well he's not told me explicitly, but it's obvious."

Jeremy having an epiphany "oh my god. Is it Kevin?" Cat in the background "oh please let it be Kevin" Jean says no, "Kevin is too much of a coward", the floozies are looking at each other like "oh we are definitely unpacking THAT at some point". And then they're like okay, well maybe the boyfriend is not on the team. But Jean confirms, it's a fox, i can tell u who it is-' "NO! We need to figure this one out!" "Let our gaydar do the work Jean we got things to prove!" Jean tiredly: "to who?"

So they start guessing, oh Hemmick is undeniably fruity, Jean is like "I don't even know who that is. Oh, backliner? No, not him". "Maybe it's Boyd?!" Cat being like "Escandalo! Cause he's with the captain right? Wilds?" Laila commenting "He'd be out of his mind to pass on that, and this is the educated opinion of a lesbian", Jean is like "how come u guys know all their names?" Jeremy says "they are a small team and it's hard not to keep tabs on them when they are in the news cycle every week or so"

"Guys we're losing track, keep your heads locked in! Who could be Josten's boyfriend, that tonight's pressing question!" "But there's no one else... wait, is he with the other backliner? Short blonde?" "I'm gonna be honest, I don't get queer vibes from him" "Lol can u imagine it's actually the goalkeeper twin" "what the one that went to juvie and looks like hes one step away from biting our heads off on the court? Nahh". Jean looks at an invisible camera like he's in the office.

And then something happens and they forget about it, until like the winter banquet or some shit and Cat is intently looking at Neil trying to decipher who his boyfriend could be, maybe he is in a throuple with Wilds and Boyd? Jean is like "Why are you looking at the foxes' table so intently?" "It's investigative work, don't worry about it" and then Neil comes over and takes Jean away at the open bar to talk about sth, the floozies are pretending to not be looking at them. Neil notices and he's like "I see they taken claim already." Jean responds with "It's not what u think" and they talk, Andrew probably gets bored at some point and goes to Neil, puts a single hand on his lower back and Jean being able to hear commotion in the Trojans table turns to see them acting like "normal", except their poses look rehearsed, there's drinks that have been spilled on the table and Cat is drinking from an empty glass looking at the sky.

[burningfeathersx]

Jean just had the terrified glint in brown eyes that was expected of her. She really was just a person, really. Someone that took a while to stake her out and pick her out for her normalness. And for the fact she wouldn't exactly be missed if someone like Irene or Lucifer had managed to kill her.

She sat when told and kept her hands where she'd been keeping them and leaned back in her chair. Dude?? Chill??????

"Man, I just--I did what I was told. Felt like I was getting watched for a few days and then one day I wake up and there's a box outside my tent. Got a phone and some cash and a number written down. Got curious and, I don't know, I need money." She told Irene. She had no incentive to hide anything or lie. Especially with a gun being brandished at her. "Guy on asks me some questions about my family and tells me he'll pay me 10-k to use a little magic. Guess that's why he was asking me about my family. My ma, she did that hoodoo stuff and I learned a bit when I was growing up. He says it's possibly dangerous, but, like, probably not. Hang up. Couple days later I get another call and instructions to pick up another box somewhere over near the river--southerly." She gestured randomly and then put her hand back where she was holding it up.

"I go out and get the box. Inside is instructions and diagrams and chalk and the stuff. Little more money." Then she pointed at the brass hoop behind her. "Got this place's address and this thing is here already. The instructions were pretty clear so I did some practice, you know. And memorized and whatever. Get another call and told a date and time--today. And the name of what I'm puttin' in the circle. It's the fucking devil, but--?" She shrugged her shoulders. "My ma kinda liked him and Set and couple others that people don't like. I figure it's fine long as I'm careful. Anyway, no tech. Destroy any tech that I can find during the whole thing. Destroy the phone. Now I didn't expect the big guy to not be The Guy. Like...the little guy came out and the big guy managed to step out??? I don't know. I panicked and...you know...sorry. But I called 911! Guess that's how you...found me. No good deed, you know?"

Jean shifted uneasily in her chair. "I mean...who would think the devil's got friends? You're probably here for the big guy. He ain't here so..." She swallowed. "He's alive, right? You'd've probably just shot me if he wasn't."

“Good girl.”

Irene follows Jean, thankful that she’s had plenty of experience climbing ladders in a threatening way, although she was certain Jean wouldn’t try anything. Trained agents don’t flinch and scream over guns and there would be no reason for her to pretend.

“Sit.” Irene then commands, gesturing for Jean to sit and waiting for her to do so before she steps to loom over the poor woman. If there was any time she looked the proper bride of the actual devil, it was now. Face and eyes colder and darker than the depths of the Antarctic sea as she tilts her head.

“You’re going to tell me everything. From the beginning. If I get so much as a inkling that you are leaving something out or god help you, lying to me, the eternal torment of hell will seem like a mercy compared to what I’ll do to you.” Irene’s head slowly tilts to the side as her pupils narrow. “You please me, and not only will you go untouched but you will be rewarded as well…so…make good choices okay sweetheart?”

@voxtekoverlord

[devosin]

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / personalized advent calendar

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

And one more.

Edinburgh, best parts, continued

- The Air B&B

Before I arrived in Scotland, I told myself repeatedly that I have to remember, it isn't a magical fairyland. I know I've been romanticizing Scotland since I was friendless ten-year-old who became an obsessive Harry Potter fan for several years, where the plot is that you can be whisked away from your friendless life and go somewhere cool and magic, by getting on a train that takes you to Scotland. This has definitely skewed my perception, along with all the folk songs about their magical Wild Mountain Thyme. But you have to remember it's just going to be a place like any other. My Air B&B is in a suburb a 50-minute walk away from the Edinburgh city centre (because, you know, money - I got it for quite cheap), and suburbs are boring no matter where you go, so be disappointed when you're staying a normal boring suburb that's just like any other place. Okay?

That's what I told myself. Then I woke up on that first morning in the Air B&B, looked out my bedroom window, and took this picture of the back garden:

Even their boring suburb is a magical fairyland. My Air B&B was lovely, the woman who ran it was very nice, that was great.

- Canal walk

I did get stuck staying a 50-minute walk from the city centre, because I couldn't afford accommodation any nearer than that. But it was quite nice. Every morning, I left around 7 or 8 AM, and walked into town. Arrived by 8 or 9 AM. Explored the city until noon or so, when my schedule of shows would start. It was a nice schedule.

But even the walk into town was pretty. The whole walk was on a path that ran along a canal, with bridges and old buildings, and I listened to a lot of Bobby Watt along the way, because in Edinburgh, even the boring suburbs are nice:

- The city in general

Holy fucking God. I saw a lot of Edinburgh on Google Earth before I visited there in person (I spent way too much time on Google Earth in Edinburgh, over the several years that I spent planning this trip), and I saw that the place looked really cool. Like, and I'm sorry I keep saying it, a fantasy novel. The old buildings, the cobblestone streets. I kept telling myself that while anything can look cool on the internet, I have to expect it to seem more mundane in person. Everything seems like just a part of everyday life, when you're there.

But when I got there, it was far, far more amazing than it seemed online. No amount of comedy routines about "tourists think Edinburgh is some beautiful thing, when actually it's full of alcoholics vomiting in the street" could take away the magic of it. It's my favourite city I've ever seen.

I mostly walked everywhere I needed to go in Edinburgh, and one day I took a bus down to the ocean, but when I had to go uphill in pouring rain to get back from the shore - and I was worried that if I walked or waited for buses I wouldn't get there early enough for David O'Doherty, to be first in line for best seats - I got an Uber. I asked my Uber driver if he hates living in Edinburgh during August because all the tourists ruin his city, and he said no, he likes the extra business (I realize I shouldn't take his answer as representative of most Edinburgh locals - their answer is probably different if their income doesn't depend on tourists who will pay a premium to get to sit slightly closer to David O'Doherty).

He asked me if I'm American, based on my accent and I said no, Canadian. He was extremely apologetic, as he (correctly) assumed that it's highly insulting for a Canadian to be labelled an American. I told him not to worry about it, as I've been known to make a hobby of horrifically offending Kiwis by telling them they sound Australian.

Anyway, after that conversation, as I had established a rapport with this friendly local, I told him that I'm sorry to ask such a tourist-y question that he must hear all the time, but I'm curious - do you get used to it when you live there? The beauty of the city, the hills and the castle and the limestone buildings; the fact that they have buildings older than (the colonized version of) my country that are owned by Starbucks or whatever, because they have so many historic buildings that even their shitty chain stores are using them. Does that seem beautiful to people who are used to it too?

He said that stuff does seem normal when you live there, and that he finds it interesting to see it through tourists' eyes every August, and remember that most places are not like that. But that sometimes when he's walking by the castle, he'll look at it and think "Damn, this is a beautiful city." And I think that's cool.

Well, I've abandoned this post's one-picture-per-bullet-point policy some time ago. Here are a whole bunch of them.

- The Royal Mile

This had all the cool stuff about the rest of the city - beautiful sandstone buildings, stone streets, amazing views. But it was also the centre of the comedy festival, so it had all this other magic going on there too. And I don't mean the magicians. The magicians were annoying. I like whimsical, metaphorical, vibe-based magic, like a city that feels like it's straight out of a fantasy novel, where the amazing art that I've fallen in love with for years - the art that usually just lived on my screens and in my headphones and felt like messages from a far-off land across the shining sea - on this street, that art is all around us to the point where it's thick in the air. I like that kind of magic. Not the kind of magic where someone stands in an already unfeasibly-crowded street and plays irritating music from a speaker while waving fire around. There was some of that on the Royal Mile, and I realize that is part of the art we're supposed to be celebrating, but when I say that it's cool to be surrounded by the art I fell in love with, I mean British stand-up comedy. The kind where one person stands behind a microphone and tells tenuously interconnected stories of increasing thematic depth, as God intended. Maybe I can let in a sketch or character piece or two, if they're very good. But I'm never going to come around to wanting to see magicians.

Anyway. If you ignore how doubt my previous paragraph will cast on this claim, I do mean it when I say I found the whole "art festival" thing fucking cool. I'm not an artsy person. I was an athlete in high school. I was an athlete in university. I was a coach ever since. Almost all my friends in real life are athletes and coaches. I'm used to being the one nerd in a friend group, and the fact that I'm into any kind of remotely non-mainstream media or live performance, makes me a bit of an oddball among the people I know. On the other hand, when I go to online places that celebrate the nerdy stuff I like, I immediately become self-conscious about how I feel like a jock who has no business being here, because I don't have the theatre kid background to what clowning is or why clowning is, and I don't want anything to do with magicians. Or puppets. Puppets creep me out.

So being in that weird in-between, the Edinburgh Festival was a rare chance for me to be somewhere in person that's entirely dedicated to the nerdy stuff I love. It definitely made me feel like a Philistine jock, by comparison to all the artsy people around me. But I loved it. I loved seeing where all this stuff comes from, having proof around me that this does exist in the real world. Feeling immersed in it.

The Edinburgh Festival is incredibly immersive, and I think that's what made otherwise-annoying things seem fun to me. Except the magicians who got in everyone's way in the middle of the street - they were still annoying. But besides them, I liked it all, even stuff I otherwise hate. Crowds. I was warned about the crowds, I was braced for the crowds because I hate crowds (see: my review of London), but on the Royal Mile, I loved it. I just kept marvelling at how many people were there for the same thing, all these cool people who love this cool stuff, gathered in one place. Also, it helped that even when the streets were packed, the Royal Mile was closed to vehicular traffic, so there was enough space for the crowds to spread out a bit. There were no areas where I felt like I couldn't stop walking, unlike in central London.

Also, it was cool to think of the history of that place. The real-life history was cool in all of Edinburgh, but the Royal Mile had history of all those old comedy stories, that comedians tell about what happened at festivals-gone-by, or my favourite comedy shows that got recorded (officially or... otherwise) at festivals gone by. It was all there. How cool is that?

I got lots of time to explore that area, luckily. On a few different mornings, I walked all the way from Arthur's Seat to the castle - the whole length of the Royal Mile. Which hopefully made up, physical health-wise, for spending 7 or 8 hours of the afternoon/evening/night sitting down watching shows. Luckily my blisters had healed by then.

- Ceilidh dancing

I said I was going to write about the best parts of my trip to Edinburgh that were not covered in the spreadsheet with the list of shows I saw. The one event I attended that did not get into that spreadsheet was Ceilidh dancing, because it wasn't a show, it was a participatory event.

I very nearly didn't go. It was such an out-of-character thing to sign up for. I mean, I've loved listening to traditional Celtic folk music since I was a kid, and I love watching people do that type of dancing. I've never been to a Ceilidh before, but I've seen plenty of people do impressive traditional dancing at folk festivals, and it's great fun to watch. To watch. I don't actually do that stuff. Like I said, I am not artsy. It's not my thing.

When I booked my Edinburgh events, I figured it's not like I'll get another chance to do something like a Ceilidh dance, and at least there's no chance of running into anyone I know, who would see how awful I am at dancing, so I may as well try something unusual and see if it's fun. I thought that while buying the ticket months in advance, but when the actual night arrived, I began to panic at the thought that I have no artistic ability whatsoever, and that extends to the art of dance, and I should just go to a pub instead.

But I went, and I'm so glad I did. First of all, I got more than my fill of an interior Harry Potter building, in the room where the evening took place:

I'm pretty sure they held Hogwarts balls in there. Anyway, then we spent two hours trying to follow instructions from a guy shouting at us about dance moves, and none of the tourists knew what they were doing, and I had a fantastic time. It was all these different people from all over the world. Will go back this year.

- Posters

This goes back to what I said about the Edinburgh Festival being immersive. I know I shouldn't put this on the "best parts" list, because I'm sure it has an awful environmental impact, in addition to being probably a bad sign, in terms of the festival's integrity. That it's supposed to be a cool offbeat fringe festival, but instead it's become all about PR and advertisement, including bigger and bigger posters that are surely contrary to the spirit of an artistic collective.

On the other hand. It was pretty fucking cool to walk all over the city through that. It really did feel like one giant theme park, dedicated to stand-up comedy (apologies to the many people who live in the city and might not want it turned into a theme park for 1/12 of the year). It was everywhere.

I'd heard before about the Edinburgh posters, of course. I'd heard comedians talk about planning their posters, getting them printed, having them put up, deciding how many to get. There were also, of course, stories of having their posters defaced or torn down, of seeing this happen together comedians.

I'd been a bit confused by this before, but I'd been picturing pieces of paper taped to lamp posts and things like that. It seemed like a lot of fuss over some pieces of paper. If someone tears down your poster, just print another one and tape it back up, right? And by "print another one", I mean "hook up your laptop to a printer somewhere and press CTRL+P".

Nope, it turns out we're dealing with something far bigger than that. Giant cardboard things that fill entire walls, entire tunnels. And sometimes, they just grow out of the ground where there's no wall at all:

I hate to turn this post into even more parts, but Tumblr has just informed me that I've hit the 30-image limit for a post. So I'm going to post this, and I'll add one more part later, as that will reset the image allotment.

I’m planning my 2025 UK (and, this time, Ireland) trip, and I’m really really excited about it. But as 2024’s come to an end and we all do retrospectives, I thought it would be interesting for me to look back on my 2024 UK trip now, and see what, with a few months of hindsight, still stands out as the best and worst parts.

Reasons why I’m making this list: 1) it’ll be helpful, when planning for next year’s trip, to know what cool things I want to repeat, and what uncool things I want to try to avoid, and 2) I miss my trip and want to mentally re-live it by making a list and looking at the pictures again.

My 2024 trip was divided into three overall parts. Part 1 was five days in London. Part 2 was taking trains – London to Edinburgh, Edinburgh to Glasgow, Glasgow to Fort William, stayed overnight in Fort William, then Fort William to Mallaig, Mallaig to Glasgow, Glasgow to Edinburgh. Then Part 3 was five days in Edinburgh for the festival.

Part 1: London

Best parts of London, listed in whatever order they occur to me

- Trains: There were so many trains. The stations were cool. The tracks were cool. The seats were cool. The vehicles were cool. The speed with which you could get around the city was cool. The “Mind the Gap” voice was cool.

I joked before I left on this trip that this is like the stereotype that says all autistic people are 8-year-old white boys obsessed with trains, and then there's a cute/inspiration porn story in the local paper about the little autistic boy who's all excited to meet a train conductor. I said I'll be like that when I go to Edinburgh and see all those comedy shows, because in this simile, I am an 8-year-old white boy and these are my trains.

Then, once I actually got there, I remembered that trains are also my trains. Some autistic stereotypes exist for a reason. For example, I am a 34-year-old autistic white woman, and I fucking love trains.

- Highgate Cemetery

So beautiful. I wandered around it for nearly an hour, just appreciating all the history. And it was really cool to see Douglas Adams' grave - I left two pens, from my dad and I, as we used to read his books together. I went there mainly because I was interested in Douglas Adams, but was amazed by how lovely the whole place was.

- Taskmaster house

Obviously that was cool as fuck. I also went on a walk by the river to where they have the bandstands where they did location tasks for the first few seasons. I took this picture by holding my phone up over a fence:

- Really good non-shawarma on park bench

A couple of years ago, I heard Nish Kumar recommend a specific Montreal shawarma place on The Bugle, because he performs in Montreal sometimes. I'd never been to that place, but I was a bit skeptical of his recommendation, because I've tried shawarma outside my own city, even in other big cities, and it's always terrible. My city has a lot of shawarma places, due to various factors that mean we have a high Arab immigrant population, so I've gotten used to quite a high standard of shawarma. I know several people who've grown up in Middle Eastern countries where shawarmas actually originated, and told me that our city has their favourite shawarmas in the world.

So, I wasn't sure about Nish Kumar's recommendation. Not because I thought there could be no good shawarma in Montreal (that's not where I live, but it's a big enough city so it'll have some good stuff, better than Toronto), but because I was not sure if I should trust someone from England to know how shawarma is meant to taste. I hear British people talk about kebabs a lot, but they never mentioned shawarmas, so I figured they don't really have shawarma there. Just kebabs, which are not the same thing.

Having said this, when I went to Montreal to see some Just For Laughs shows in 2023, I tried the shawarma place that Nish had recommended, and it tasted amazing. So I had to admit that maybe he does know what he's talking about. I told all this to my friend who lives in London, and when he went to a Nish Kumar gig long before my UK trip, he went up to Nish after the show, and asked what his favourite shawarma place in London is. Nish said some place called Kebab Kid, and I put that on my list of places to visit, to see if England does have good shawarma after all.

So I made a special trip out there. I traveled pretty far out of my way to get there. I took some trains, and then I walked about forty-five minutes, across quite a lovely neighbourhood, enjoying how pretty London is. I arrived at the restaurant, and became a touch concerned that the place I was using to prove to England does have shawarmas and not just kebabs, was called Kebab Kid. But when I went inside, they did have shawarmas on the menu. I ordered one.

The guy behind the counter asked me if I wanted chili sauce or barbeque sauce. I said no, because... obviously. Obviously you don't put those on a shawarma. He said, "So no sauce, then?", and I realized those weren't optional extras, they were the only sauce on offer. No garlic sauce, no hummus. I said... okay, barbeque then. He put misc. salad in there instead of pickles and turnips. It was so clearly not a shawarma. It came with fries, even though fries obviously do not go with shawarma.

Skeptically, I took it down the road and sat down on a park bench to eat. And God, was it ever delicious. It wasn't a shawarma. That's absolutely not what a shawarma is. But it was a very, very good chicken sandwich. A guy sat down next to me and chatted to me for a while. He asked what I was eating, I said a shawarma, and he said he's from Turkey and they don't have proper shawarmas here, not like at home. I said yes, I can see that. They absolutely don't.

But it was a really really good chicken sandwich and I ate it in a really pretty park, surrounded by pigeons, and had a genuinely nice chat with a random stranger, and it felt sweet and peaceful, and I liked it a lot.

I told myself I was going to keep each item on this list pretty short, just a couple of quick sentences to explain them. I did not expect the first list item to make me break that rule would be a shawarma place. I'm going back to the rule now.

- Sunday roast

I flew all Saturday night. I arrived at 8:30 AM. My wonderful hosts picked me up at the airport, I showered and changed and dropped my stuff off at their place, and then, while fuelled entirely by adrenaline and no sleep, I accompanied my friend from a British comedy message board, whom I'd just met in person for the first time, to a pub with a Sunday roast.

I've been informed that he chose this pub specifically because it has a great Sunday roast, they're not all as good as this one. But this one was very, very good. I had horseraddish for the first time. I had Yorkshire pudding for the first time. I was very surprised that this things called pudding was just bread, until I tasted it, and I decided that anything that delicious can call itself whatever it wants. It was the perfect way to start a trip.

- My wonderful hosts

It's weird to write this part because he'll probably read it. But I stayed in the spare room of a guy I'd met two years earlier on a comedy message board, as I've said many times, I cannot believe lucky I got in messaging a guy because I just wanted a few old comedy recordings, and ending up with a wonderful new friend (and more comedy recordings that I could have imagined, that's cool too). We spoke regularly for a couple of years before my trip to the UK, which is relevant because, as my dad pointed out, it's inadvisable to stay with a man from the internet you've not met in person, but if he's been talking to you most days for two years, that's a lot of work to put in just to lure someone to your house to murder them. There are easier ways to murder someone. So it's probably fine.

He did not murder me. He has a wife whom I'd not spoken to before but she was so incredibly nice; I'd been slightly concerned that she might be put out by having to play host to some woman from Canada whom she didn't know, but it wasn't like that at all, she was so friendly and welcoming, and so was her husband of course, it was super cool to meet him in person and spend time with both of them, it was great. And they had three cats who were the absolute best cats in the world. I won't post a picture of the cats here, because, you know, those are other people's private cats. But they were excellent cats.

- The Bill Murray, Nish Kumar

Many, many hours of my favourite comedy I've of my favourite comedy I've ever heard was recorded at The Bill Murray pub, for Angel Comedy. I was so excited to see the venue in person, and I was not disappointed. I saw a Nish Kumar WIP there just before he went to Edinburgh, and holy God, it was one of the best evenings of my life. I arrived at the pub an hour before the show, partly so I could awkwardly hang around the door to the comedy room and get the best seats (I achieved this, of course), and partly because I wanted to spend time in that building, to take in the history.

And it was full of history. The walls were covered in pictures of great comedians who've performed there. There were murals with drawings of comedy legends. And the actual comedy room was perfect - small and intimate, definitely good at those technical things that I don't have enough expertise to know how they work but I know good ones when I experience them (sight lines, acoustics, comedy-conducive lighting). And I watched Nish Kumar perform an absolutely fantastic version of one of my favourite stand-up hours ever. It was a perfect night.

- Crystal Palace

I spent one morning in Crystal Palace. I ate breakfast. It's a very very pretty neighbourhood with cool little buildings and a sense of history and everything that I romanticize, when I romanticize the UK. It had a big beautiful park with dinosaur statues. I went into a cool independent bookstore, which has hosted performances by some of my favourite comedians ever, and I bought a beautiful children's book to donate to the autism centre where I worked at the time. If I'm honest, those hours were the ones I most enjoyed in London, aside from the time at actual comedy shows/venues. I just wanted to have a look.

Pictured below: not a tourist attraction (according to Elis James, who is wrong), but some cool dinosaurs

- Cambridge

On one of my days in London, I got trains to Cambridge and back. At first I was pretty disappointed in the place, because it had so many tourists that I couldn't really appreciate anything. But then I paid about 10 pounds to get into the grounds of St. John's College, which had an entry fee because it was one of the extra beautiful colleges. It was also Douglas Adams' college, so I'd wanted to see it anyway for Britcom tourism reasons. But holy God, was it ever gorgeous. I felt like I was in some sort of unnamed British fantasy novel.

The gardens. The old buildings. The history. The picturesque rooftops, the river with boats punting by like a postcard. The stained glass in the chapel. The courtyards that seemed from another world. The pillars. This was exactly what I wanted when I said I wanted to go to the UK and see "Harry Potter buildings". Not filming locations from the movies, I don't care about that. Magestic buildings with fantasy novel vibes. Also, you know, all the genuine history there. Douglas Adams, and I hear the history of Cambridge University might even go back slightly further than the 1970s.

I also ate lunch at a pub called The Eagle, because it was called the oldest pub in Cambridge, and I think that's even true (as in, I didn't just wander into any pub that had a sign saying "oldest pub in Cambridge" outside, I looked this up beforehand). Because I like history. The pub was so cool on the inside, and yes I'm aware that that's probably not even because it's several hundred years old, it's because they made it look that way so they can trade off tourists like me. I know that - that any pub that's several hundred years old is a Theseus' Ship situation. I don't care, the pub was beautiful. And I had an amazingly delicious lunch there.

- Regent's Park

One of the first places I went when I got to London. So much amazing comedy history there. Pretty park, I enjoyed walking around the pretty park. But I mainly enjoyed looking at the theatre, even though we couldn't go in, and standing on the spot of some of my favourite nights in comedy history, it was fucking cool.

- ABC Comedy, Romesh Ranganathan

This is another very cool comedy club in London, where a lot of really really awesome comedy has happened over the years, I've gotten to experience a lot of it from Canada via the magic of technology but was so excited to be there in person. And I saw Romesh do an hour-long WIP there (I think it was less WIP, and more just messing around and saying whatever came up), which was really funny and a great time. Weird to see someone so famous in person. He was taller than I expected. His reputation is for the grumpy thing, but he's so funny when he says something silly and then gives the crowd a huge grin. It was loose and great fun.

And thought I'd been told before that it's a small room, I was amazed to see in person, and confirm how very small it is, giving how regular it is for big names to perform there (Romesh Ranganathan, for a start). Just like the Bill Murray.

- All the big pretty buildings in the Parliament area, and St. James' Park

I spent a few hours wandering around the big pretty buildings in the Parliament area and St. James' park. It was old and nice and impressive. I kept walking by Big Ben and saying "There's Big Ben!" like in that Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

- Square Mile neighbourhood and Leadenhall Market

Another time, I spent an afternoon wandering around a neighbourhood that I believe is called Square Mile. It had a lot of little alleyways, and I'm a sucker for little alleyways. It had big and impressive buildings that I enjoyed looking at. I went into a pub that had chandeliers.

That neighbourhood had Leadenhall Market in it, which is an exception to me not caring about places where the Harry Potter movies were filmed, because it's not just where they happened to film Diagon Alley the movie, it looks like how I pictured Diagon Alley in my head from the books. There were a bunch of little market areas like this in London, which I liked. But this one was my favourite:

- Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese pub

I spent nearly three hours in this pub. I ordered several alcohol-free Guinesses, because I was trying to stay away from alcohol throughout the trip. I was there by myself. So why did I spent three hours in a pub, if not for the alcohol or the company? It was just one of the coolest buildings I'd been in and I wanted to be in there for longer. I was in a basement room where I couldn't even get internet, so I couldn't even browse on my phone. I just sat there, for hours, alone in the room, and it was fantastic.

The pub had several different rooms, as you move downstairs, and one of the rooms was totally empty so I sat down there. This definitely sated my desire to see the other type of Harry Potter building - rather than the big and majestic ones that could be a wizard castle, this was a dimly lit basement that looks like it hasn't been updated since the 1600s, which is apparently when this pub was built. Knockturn Alley. Okay I'm done with the Harry Potter references (to be clear I did not, and would not, do any official Harry Potter stuff that could generate profit for the author because fuck her - I didn't even do any unofficial Harry Potter stuff like the Edinburgh tours or pictures with that Kings Cross cart - I just wanted to sit around in old buildings and feel like I was in a fantasy novel).

This gave me the thing I wanted to find in tourist attractions, but didn't. I visited some large old cathedrals, and wanted to feel a sense of history and magic and the gravity of a place like that, but it was packed with other tourists taking pictures, so I couldn't get into it. I sat in St. Paul's Cathedral trying to feel magic, and finally said to myself, "Yeah, God's not here" and left (metaphorical God, I'm not religious, but I'm often impressed with the weight of human wonder that goes into religious architecture). I found the Cheshire Cheese just after that, sat down in that old building, and felt all the stuff that I'd wanted to feel in the church but failed.

I'm genuinely glad there was no internet signal down there, because I took out my phone, and did write a whole big Tumblr post in my notes app, figuring I'd post it when I got back upstairs (okay, I didn't just stare at the wall for three hours). That magic of the building overtook me. That post was so incredibly cheesy, even for me. It contained the line "I didn't find God in a church, but then I found God in a pub," because apparently I thought I was John Robins now. And that's one of the less cheesy lines, since I'm willing to share it now. I think there were a bunch of reflections in there about struggling with my drinking problem, but written in ways that only made sense while sitting in that room. The rest of the post will be thankfully lost because I got upstairs, returned to the real word, said "this is bullshit" and deleted it. But I hope that this year, I can go back to the magical pub where the real world doesn't exist.

- Other pubs

I didn't drink at all in the UK (okay, I had one beer in a pub by the ocean on my last day in Edinburgh, but literally only one pint), and it wasn't the first time in my adult life that I've gone two whole weeks without alcohol, but it was the first time I've done that and found it easy, because things were going so well that I didn't even miss it. I did, however, drink a lot of alcohol-free Guinesses. Because I sat in a lot of pubs and wanted something that at least made me feel like I was drinking.

The worst part of London was the heat and the crowds and the fact that everyone moves so fast that you're not allowed to stand still for half a second without people getting angry at you for blocking the sidewalk, and there weren't a lot of options for refuge from that. A lot of the restaurants seemed to be takeaway-only, or just a few tables, and were always packed. So a lot of times, I found myself ducking into pubs to get out of the heat and the crowds. The pubs were old and nice and quiet and comforting, and I enjoyed sitting in them a lot.

- Egg Sluts

Okay, I'm going to change the tone a bit from the darker, drinking problem-based stuff. I had a fucking excellent breakfast sandwich in a place called Egg Sluts. I did not take a picture, but it was so good that I have to go back there in 2025. I'm a big fan of the egg + meat-based breakfast sandwich, and that was probably the best one I'd ever had.

- Sausage rolls

The first time I ordered a sausage roll from Gregg's, I did it while giggling about how I feel like a character in a story that was told on a panel show. The WILTY people are always making up stuff about Gregg's and sausage rolls. What a cute British thing to do. I'm going to eat a sausage roll on a train. This is so British.

The second, through, by my best estimation, 504th time that I ordered a sausage roll in Britain, I thought, "Fucking hell, am I ever glad we don't have these in Canada. I don't think I'd have lived to this age if I had the option to order them all the time. Sausage... in bread... it's brilliant. Why didn't we think of this in Canada? We must never think of this in Canada. This needs to remain a treat abroad."

- Lamb being a common food there

Here, it's a delicacy, often not available in places that serve the more common meats like chicken, pork, and beef. Some places offer it, but for a higher price than the same dish with another meat. Britain just puts lamb in everything.

- On a similar note, one day I went up to the roof of a high building and ate a lamb kebab while looking out at the entire city, and that was very nice:

- The Soho Theatre

Same deal as the other comedy venues - cool place full of comedy history, I've heard so much stuff from there and loved getting to see it in person and physically be in that space. Also, the walls were full of posters from shows that had performed there over the years.

- The London Underground when it was not packed with people

Fun stuff. Sometimes it was all dark and felt like a sci-fi movie. The cars made fun noises and went fast.

- I saw Daniel Kitson live twice, a couple of nights apart. One of the times, I met him after the show. My brain shut down and I forgot all the words in the English language and he stood there looking at me and I couldn't speak to him. He performed what I think is one of the best shows he's ever done, and I got to see it live, and that was cool as fuck. So incredibly cool. But oh my God, I felt terrible later that night (and the next day, and the next few days) when I realized how badly I'd Got It Wrong when I met him.

It's okay though, because I did eventually manage to look at the pictures my friend took, and those pictures confirmed that he at least found the situation amusing (I could not confirm that at the time as I was physically unable to look at him):

Worst parts of London, listed in whatever order they occur to me

- The British Library

It might be unfair to call this one of the worst parts of my trip to London, because it was still pretty cool. But most of London was good, so by the standards of that, this was… weird. I went on the day I arrived, right after the Sunday roast, when I’d flown all night and not slept in well over 24 hours by then, so that definitely did not help. I took a guided tour of the place, and the tour was super weird. Our guide was obsessed with telling us that the government had secretly killed Alan Turing. Every part of the tour was basically a way for him to bring it back to that subject. Which almost sounds like a gimmick, but the guy seemed quite serious about it. He also told us several facts that other people on the tour pointed out were incorrect (not just the conspiracy theory thing, but factual stuff like confidently mis-labelling what language certain books were in). The whole thing was just weird, and the fact that I was reaching “asleep on my feet” territory made it feel like a weird drug trip.

- The heat

I realized a few months before the trip that this would be taking place in the middle of summer, and I need to factor in how much I cannot stand being outside in the middle of summer. I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it. My body cannot stand excessive heat. I am meant to live in Arctic temperatures. Where I live now, the weather has been mostly between -10 and -20 degrees Celcius for the last few weeks, and that's about where I feel comfortable. As soon as it starts going above 0, I don't like it.

London in the summer was well above 0. To be fair, it was slightly less hot there than it was at home. I was told that I was there during one of their heat waves, but even their heat wave temperatures were not quite as hot as what I get at home on a regular mid-summer week. So that would normally be nice. But at home, I'm not usually walking outside all day, for several days in a row, in the middle of summer. I'm usually hiding in my house with a fan blowing directly on me and cold wash clothes draped all over my body, telling myself that autumn will come soon.

So. Summer tourism might not be the best call for me. I got very miserable being in the heat for so long, and that made everything else harder to deal with. The crowds. The blisters on my feet. I could stand them all more easily if my body were not in horrible pain from the elevated temperatures, dealing with the sensory nightmare of sweat everywhere. Not to get too graphic or anything.

- The crowds

Oh my God, the crowds in London. I already covered most of this when I wrote about crowds before, but fucking hell, it was bad. The whole sidewalk. I'd often been surprised when I saw people on panel shows talk about how much they hate people who stop walking on a sidewalk ("pavement"). "Why don't you just go around them?" I wondered. Well now I know why - you can't! You can't go around them. There is no area of foot traffic that's not full of people. I think it was the lack of ability to stop moving that bothered me even more than just the proximity to so many people, but both were bad. And worse in the heat.

- I got awful blisters all over the bottoms of both feet on my first day there, and they didn't start to heal until after I'd left London

I still don't know why this happened. I mean, obviously it was because I was walking around all day as a tourist. But I had a job at the time where I was on my feet all day, so it's not like I wasn't used to some of that. I had good shoes. New enough to still be good, old enough to be broken in. I think I'm maybe just not used to walking on paved surfaces for so long. They were hard on my feet.

The blisters started to get better when I spent a couple of days on the trains to and around Scotland - got off my feet for nearly two straight days, just sitting in the train seats. Also, at the Edinburgh train station, I "bought some plasters from Boots", which I found to be an amusingly British thing to do. Those helped. So it wasn't such a problem when I was walking all around Edinburgh.

But for those five days in London, I couldn't put weight on either foot without it being in terrible pain, and obviously that's not ideal for an holiday where I walk around a city all day. The worst was in Cambridge, as I walked around that utterly beautiful St. John's College, and kept thinking... I wish I could be here without it causing excruciating pain to the bottoms of my feet. Then I could enjoy it more.

I need to look up good preventative blister stuff before I got back in 2025. At the very least, I'll bring some Band-Aids ("plasters") with me this time and put them on when it first starts.

On the best-of list, I put pictures of each bullet point. Be grateful that I'm not doing that here. Because I did take a picture of them one day, so I could have a record of how bad they got (seriously - the ran all the way across). But I'll spare the public that.

- Covent Gardens

Oh my God, I hated that place. I planned to spend a few hours there because there was so much touristy stuff that I figured I should see, but it was awful, for the reasons I've already outlined. Heat, and no escape from it. Giant crowds. Blisters on the bottoms of my feet. Walking around this busy square.

I went to get a something from my UK trip pictures folder to put here, but it turns out I didn't take any pictures in Covent Gardens. I was so miserable that at no point did I think "I want to save this for posterity". I'm not doing that place again.

- Buckingham Palace guard changing

The palace itself was cool to look at, but if I went back there again, it wouldn't be when they change the guard. It turns out the Buckingham Palace guard are just Mounties. We have Mounties at home. It was a bunch of guys dressed as Mounties doing the guard-changing routine that the Mounties in Canada do, but with fucking thousands of people gathered all over the square and the streets so you couldn't get anywhere near it to actually see. It might have been cool if I'd been able to get near it - I enjoy watching the Mounties do their thing sometimes. But I'd rather just go look at the pretty Palace sometime when it's not so full of people.

- St. Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Cathedral

I was looking forward to this stuff because as I've said, I like that kind of architecture. But the number of tourists meant that vibe-wise, it felt more like a very fancy shopping mall than the site of centuries worth of humans trying to connect to the Divine.

- The London Underground when it was packed with people

Extremely uncomfortable, do not recommend.

- The show I saw at the Soho Theatre

It wasn't very good.

I was going to add parts 2 and 3 of my trip on the end here, but this post has got too long, and I know Tumblr has a limit to the number of pictures you're allowed to add in one post. So I'll just post this one now, and then I'll add the other parts in a reblog later. This has been a fun exercise in remembering stuff.