#I'll probably publish some things next week!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hello Elanor (is it ok to call you that? It’s in your profile but sorry if not!) I have just re read your chris the massage boy saga and cried laughing again, and I had two questions; since your new massage lady also seems to be quitting, have you found a new one? And also do you have a specific tag for your funny stories? Or perhaps a book?

You can call me Elanor! No problem at all. Delighted you're enjoying my nonsense.

SO: she finally left last week, so now the hunt is back on. However, some of the girls she worked with are taking over in the same place, so I need to brave Facebook, go to her page, and see the contact details for them that she put up on the last day. I haven't done it yet, but I'll probably try for next week, so... tbc, I guess. Fingers crossed I don't somehow immediately drive them into early retirement/emigration/etc with my apparent Vibes.

Um, no specific tag for stories in general though, sorry. Although I do have tags for common stories I suppose? My vote for phil tag includes all my stories about my friend Phil, for example. And I suppose there's the Clownfall Saga. I should probably practice better tag hygiene.

Book-wise, I have written a silly werewolf erotica novel set in Wales, a thing I should look at publishing soon. So there's that lol. (It is very silly and I had an absolute blast writing it.)

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Hey Piney! Just dropping in to say hi! I hope everything so going well for you 💕

Heyyy Kenny!!

Thank you so much for checking up on me!! I so regret not publishing much lately, I wish I could produce so much more, both fics and drawings! I guess things aren't going that bad as Mr Piney found a really good job and is covering me with gifts -our quality of life has drastically improved thanks to him (it feels great not ending our months in debt LMAO).

I really hope you're doing well too! And I also hope your horsie recovered well too btw! You're really the sweetest, and you deserve nothing but the best.

Love ya, honey! 💕

[har-rison-s]

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

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coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, ��too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco​​​​​​ @v0idbella​​​​​​ @works-of-fanfiction​​​​​​ @ur-gunna-h8-ths​​​​​​ @betweenloveandfire​ @but-legendsneverdie​​​​​​ @deardeacy​​​​​​ @thewinchesterchronicles​ @mavieesttriste16​​​​​​ @intrrverted​​​​​​ @the-freak-cassie-131​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​ @xoxobabydolls​ @corallyink​ @rottenstyx​ @allcheesemelts @dangelnleif

let me know if you want to be tagged in the future !!!

[lady-phasma]

I'm sure someone has probably already done this but it's nagging at me and I couldn't hear all the insults as they yelled at one another. (Bold are my emphasis because I am seated!) Specifically the parts about Paris and Marius. I'm not making any comments at the moment, just fact finding because this episode was brutal. Beautiful, but brutal.

Season 2 Episode 5

Louis: What? What?!

Armand: It's morning!

Louis: I lost time. Things got a little heated.

Armand: With a boy! Things got heated with a boy. I was at home picking lint off the sofa!

Louis: I said to join us!

Armand: The night's gone. The room's soiled and once again, I'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up.

Louis: So the room got dirty, so what? I'll clean it up.

Armand: No, I clean it up! You make the mess and I clean it up! Mark it on the calendar, align it with Ursa Major. Louis' tri-annual fսck off and find me with apologies to follow.

Louis: ( laughing ) I'm sorry.

Armand: Seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes and unfortunates, and broken children, fine.

Louis: Oh, fine! The fine that doesn't sound like…

But revealing our nature to a reporter you met in a bar ten hours ago? What if it was published?

Louis: I was having some fun!

Armand: You don't have enough to fear from Paris?

Louis: I was in the middle of ending things, when you…

Armand: You'd have been passed out on the floor next to him, Louis! Out on your feet from the drսg you stuffed him with!

Louis: Oh, this is boring! You're boring! You are so boring!

Armand: And here come the drսgs.

Louis: Colorless.

Armand: Up the fangs, down this road.

Louis: Flavorless. Dull! Dull! Dull!

Armand: Into the heart and off with the fingers, feet.

Louis: Dull nights, dull weeks!

Louis: And wallowing brain.

Louis: Dull months, dull as fսck! Suffocation by the world's softest, beige-est pillow! The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating, than decades with you! Oh, there it is! The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! But what does it mean tonight, huh? Does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? Huh?

Armand: Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "Oh, it's so, so hard to be me."

Louis: "Picking lint off the sofa?!"

Armand: "It's so hard to kill humans."

Armand: "I can feel their feelings as I drain them."

Louis: You sat on your hands and put your ear to the wind.

Armand: "Everyone I know wrongs me."

Louis: Okay. Okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "I'm the vampire Armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch."

Armand: "My brother, he tossed himself off a roof!"

Louis: "Vampires who murdered my daddy made me pretend I didn't have a dіck for 240 years."

Armand: "My sister, she buried me alive.” My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. “Well, he wouldn't look at me kindly.” "Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat."

Louis: I talked shit about him the whole time. So what?!

Armand: The name!! The name! Unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.

Louis: Our problems aren't about him.

Armand: And you threw her name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him.

Louis: I loved her.

Armand: But she didn't love you. Not like he did, not like I have.

Louis: ( softly ) I know. I know! Yes! I know. ( softly ) Thank you for saying it. It's all creeping back. Paris and the, uh, what, what, what? But there's… all of it coming back. There's, uh, Paris. Paris. Can you hear that? Can you hear that, hm? Can you hear her? She's calling me.

Transcript (with some corrections) from TV Show Transcripts

[jasminewalkerauthor]

So you've wrote a book, what's next?

So I recently started uni and naturally immediately joined my universities writing and book societies, last week I was sat editing my book when a couple of people approached me. Apparently through some light instagram stalking they had found out I published books and was wondering how on earth do you even do it.

Upon being on tumblr this week it turns out that this is a question that a lot of people are interested in, this being probably my most requested post ever?

ANYWAY. You've wrote a book, either you're two drafts in or fifty drafts in it doesn't entirely matter. I am going to give you the bad news that the work has only just begun.

The first choice you really need to make is whether or not you want to pursue traditional publishing or self/indie publishing. I believe the common misconception of the difference between the two is that one is 'Easier' than the other. Both are hard, just in different ways.

Traditional publishing is hard to break into, you need to convince enough of people that your book is worth selling which can be incredibly difficult and results in a lot of heartbreaking emails. However once you have that publishing deal you have those people in your corner to help with editing, cover design, and distribution among other things.

Self publishing, much like the name suggests, means that you have to do everything yourself, edit (or source an editor), design (or source a designer), marketing, the works. However the plus side of self publishing which I like is that you have a lot more creative control and freedom.

Now to be fully transparent, I am an indie author, naturally I am going to know a lot more about a process I have actually gone through rather than one I havent. However I do believe I can provide at least a rough guideline of the process so that people can get an idea of what going into it.

So starting with traditional publishing, assuming that you have a full draft that you've at least done some self editing on, your first step is finding an agent. You'll need a couple of things for this. First is make a document of the first 30 pages of your manuscript (a 'sample' if you will), and a query letter which is almost like a cover letter for your book, this is what potential agents will look at to judge whether they want to represent your manuscript.

I dont think I need to say it but your query letter is VITAL, please take time with it, some agents may not even look at your sample if your query letter is bad.

Now, searching for agents is relatively easy, there are a lot of databases online that will give you a list of agents and whether or not they are accepting submissions. Most agents will also have a kind of 'wishlist' of manuscripts they're looking to represent (e.g. sci-fi, philosophy, high fantasy), look for agents with a wishlist that includes your kind of book.

Once you have an agent they will be able to go to different publishing houses with your manuscript, hopefully leading to a book deal at some point. From there the publishers will help with editing, design, and distribution.

With self publishing the process is a bit more complicated. First is the editing process. Either you can edit your own manuscript if you feel up to it or you can source an editor. There are three different editors you can hire: Developmental editor, Line editor, and Proof reader. Almost every editor charges per word of your manuscript.

I would also recommend looking for Beta readers, these are readers who will read through an early copy of your manuscript for feedback (These are NOT editors, more reviewers). There are also ARC readers who you send an early copy to about 2-3 months before release to build interest in your book.

When it comes to the actual publishing itself, there are two main publishing platforms: kdp and ingram spark. Both of these are three besides the fact that you will need to buy an ISPN for your book to use ingram spark.

I think i'll leave it there because this is LONG, but i may turn this into a series, what do y'all want to know about?

[kuzure-collapse]

Hi! So, to start off with, I'm absolutely obsessed with Loser's Bromance! Genuinely, I think it's one of the best Quote stories I've read in a while (and I read a lot). Please do not EVER give up on it 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Secondly, I was wondering what type of yandere each of them are? I have theories but only for two-three of the characters. Who would go as far as to kill someone for mc? Who would kidnap mc?

Thirdly (sorry if this paragraph comes off as impatient or rude), what's your updating schedule?? There's been times where I've been reading something then the author doesn't update for months before updating once more and I was wondering if you're one of those types of authors or not? It's totally fine if you are, no judgement here, but I just need to know so I'm not waiting around in anticipation for half a year 😭

Sorry if this is a big ask!!

thank you! i'm glad i could meet your standard. i don't plan to stop writing it, not until I've reached the ending i drafted.

this is a soft-yandere story, so nothing too crazy here. no one's getting kidnapped. maybe yanagi is killing people, but none of the main cast will be getting killed off. the yandere will mostly be shown in subtle hints at each character's obsession. the most yandere would probably be at the end, when yanagi decides to go off the rails.

---

i'll explain how each character displays their yandere traits in the story:

Tomohiro:

likes leaving marks on mc, like bruises or scratches from their judo practices

he would bite if he could. wants to show that mc is his

Kotose:

mc is nice to everyone else, but only bickers with kotose. that must mean that mc likes kotose, right?

likes collecting items that belong to mc, just small things that he doesn't think mc would notice

likes to think of how mc would react if he caught him

Satsuma:

opposite of kotose, he likes giving items to mc

first food, then the ankle brace. what's next, big hoodies?

similar to tomohiro in that it shows mc belongs to satsuma

Yumeki:

likes drawing and taking pictures of mc, treating him like a muse

whether or not mc is aware

the drawings often make mc look better than he really is

wants to be useful to mc as much as he can

Yanagi:

mc puts his life on the line to help yanagi, that means he cares for yanagi the most, right?

his phone is filled with video recordings and photos of mc's embarrassing moments. enjoys humiliating mc in front of others with them

eventually becomes more than a joke and he starts taking candids, some even turn out good

watching the vids on his own and thinking "he's so fucking stupid haha what a loser" with a goofy smile on his face

i wont spoil what i have planned for his yandere phase. but if you've kept up with my earlier journal entries on quotev, you'll find a few one-shot pieces i wrote about him

---

my goal for an updating schedule is every Sunday EST, Monday at worst. at the start i had chapters prewritten and would post consistently every week, but as chapters got longer, the time it took to post grew as well.

occasionally i'll go on a break to focus on life. I'm not the type of author that can update multiple fics at once, or even multiple times a week. i prefer my chapters to be at least 5 pages long and proofread many times over. sometimes my chapters get as long as 15 pages because i don't feel like it makes sense to split them up.

people praise my work but not many understand that the quality comes from how much time i put into it. while i could update more often, it wouldn't be a product I'm proud of. even chapters that I've worked on for months have me feeling iffy before i hit publish.

hope this clears things up! i don't particularly care if people hound for updates (i brush them off anyway), but i wouldn't recommend doing it too often since some authors find it annoying. most people prefer receiving nice comments like these. i personally like when people ask questions or make theories about the story. those comments are much more motivating compared to "pls come baccck" or "pls updattttee"

[insertmeaningfulusername]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you for the tag @sinvulkt 💙

What fandoms do you write in?

Literally just various Star Wars media atm. The main focus for 2024 was the prequel era, mostly The Clone Wars and some Bad Batch.

How many words have you published in 2024?

172,387 according to my stats. I wrote more than that though, and I still plan on posting and backdating approximately 5 one-shots I wrote in 2024 but never got around to post.

What are your top three fics you’ve written this year?

I despise/love them all equally I guess if I had to choose, I'm still really happy with these three: Wanted, a gift for @omaano in which Dogma gets morning snuggles from Tup and Fives. Idk why this pairing is so rare, they're underrated!! The Meaning Is Ours, the first fic I ever wrote that's entirely original characters, for the 2024 Trans Clone Week. Both Hunter and Prey, my fic for the DinLuke mini bang in which Luke is a vampire and on the hunt for a certain Mandalorian. I just think it's hot sklfjadlksfj.

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

Oh boy... maybe writing the gift fic for the Star Wars Rare Pairs exchange. It just kept getting longer and longer!! Which, really, I should have probably expected, because among other ships my giftee requested Polybatch with a focus on Echo getting railed and I just couldn't resist, and of course all the Batch members wanted a turn. And the fic kept being a thorn in my eye even after it was posted because people would request another fic based on a flashback scene that's maybe one paragraph long, all without complimenting the 13k I'd already written 😭 like, you really expect me to write more fic for you when you can't even comment on the fic that's already there??? Idk what to tell you but fanfiction writers aren't content machines where you can just press a button that says "Next story, please!"

What have you learned?

That people will love the fics you think are hot garbage and entirely pass by the stories you put a lot of thought and energy into. It's an old lesson but one I have to keep re-learning.

Did you beta any fics? Any faves you want to shout out?

I betaed or cheerread two or three things but I don't know if they've even been posted...

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

I have to admit that I don't read a lot of fanfiction, but these three I've found in my bookmarks: Ready Room by countessofbiscuit, in which Fi and Corr make out - ultra rare pair content from the Republic Commando novels and so sweet and silly (like Fi) and just a tiny bit bittersweet! Nine-Seven by Trudemaethien, with some platonic Sev & Niner. It's just so refreshing to see aroace headcanons finally arriving in fandom. Save an AT-RT (Ride an ARF Trooper) by BilbosMom, WaxerBoil, containing both smut and humor - my favourite combination!!

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Nothing concrete so far. Maybe finish some of the WIPs in my pile, try to write more than one fic for the Codywan First Kiss Bingo so I'll at least get a bingo, and try to write something for the @cloneshiprarepair monthly ships (go check out this event btw, there are some crunchy ships getting served up!). Probably try to sign up for fewer exchanges because I can feel my interest in Star Wars slipping.

No pressure tagging @lesbiankiliel @wolveria @loverboy-havocboy @violentcheese @bilbosmom-belladonna @forloveofcodywan @anxiousotters @five-oh-thirst @the-starry-seas @hastalavistabyebye @theproblemwithstardust @violetjedisylveon @elimaryholmes @rooksunday @ladylucksrogue

[49436]

Taking on @batmanisagatewaydrug 's 2025 Book Bingo (along with my wife & housemate, so it's now on our fridge. Taking me back to summer reading lists from the library)

I tend to work down my to-read list in order, unless there's something I really want to get to, so most of this list is 'what's the first thing I'll hit that fills the criteria'. But some books earn the right to skip the line, for one reason or another.

Going for a full board, which means actual bingo might take a minute lol

List below-

Literary Fiction - TBD

Short Story Collection - Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. Chain-Gang All Stars was on my top 10 from 2024 so even though short stories and I don't tend to get along, this one I'm excited about. Will also try Drinking From Graveyard Wells by Yvette Lisa Ndlovu

Sequel - Either A Victory of Eagles by Naomi Novik or Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao. A matter of which one I get first; My library doesn't have physical copies of Heavenly Tyrant yet, and my wife owns all of Temeraire, so it might win.

Childhood Favorite - Might be Watership Down by Richard Adams, which is always a banger, but I reread Watership just a couple years ago, so it might be The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander instead, which I read many times with my mom and still have the whole series of.

20th Century Speculative Fiction - TBD

Fantasy - A Taste of Honey by Kai Ashante Wilson. I read so much fantasy, BUT I already have A Taste Of Honey on my side table. So here we are.

Published Pre-1950 - The Iliad (and The Odyssey) translated by Emily Wilson. Heard a lot of noise about her translation, and haven't read these two since... idk but it's been over a decade. Also going to hop on the Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier train.

Indie Publisher - The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. I read a LOT of indie publishers and Jemisin if one of my all-time favorite writers. I've been putting off this series for a time I can really get into it and burn down all three.

Graphic Novel - Dorohedoro by Q Hyashida. Currently on volume 8, will probably finish the series in the next week or two. Love love love Hyashida's work

Animal on the cover - Plague Dogs by Richard Adams. Despite my aforementioned childhood obsession with Watership Down I never got around to Plague Dogs. Looking forward to it!

Set in a country I've never visited - TBD

Sci-Fi - Another genre I'll read a thousand of in a year. Currently I have Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie on my side table (which I fear may be mid, but time will tell) I'm also VERY excited to read The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal

2025 Debut Author - TBD

Memoir - Love Is An Ex-Country by Randa Jarrar. Memoirs aren't usually my thing, but this one made it's way onto my to-read list last year so this is good motivation.

Zine - TBD. Browsing all the other posts from people doing this challenge for recs

Essay Collection - How To Read Now by Elaine Castillo. Literally the only essay collection on my to-read list and it jump scared me. Thought for sure this would a TBD, but How To Read Now should be interesting.

2024 Award Winner - TBD. Will trawl award lists when I have time

Non-Fiction - Facing the Wave: A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich. Specifically chose something that doesn't also count as social justice/activism, which is most of my non-fiction reads. I've found a real appreciation for good non-fiction the last few years (Everyone go read Swimming to Antarctica by Lynne Cox). Learning stuff is cool!

Social Justice/Activism - Everything you Love Will Burn: Inside the Rebirth of White Nationalism in America by Vegas Tenold. Excited for this one.

Romance - TBD. Tend to read romance that's also another genre (romantasy side eye at myself) so I've inevitably got one on my list. But maybe Akwaeke Emezi will write another romance and sweep me off my feet.

Recipe - Steak wrap pinwheels. My wife has been watching Food Truck Race (lol. lmao even) and one of the contestants made these. Stealing the idea with impunity.

Horror - Fever House by Keith Rosson. I've got a rich vein of horror novels on my to-read list, but this will be one of the first.

Published in the Aughts - TBD I'm old. I read of lot of 00's work.

Historical Fiction - Velvet Was The Night by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Is the 70's historical? I think the 70's is historical now. One of the final 3 books of Moreno-Garcia's I haven't read, and she's never let me down. Might read another Phryne Fisher Mystery or two as well, because they're quick and fun.

Librarian recommendation - TBD. I love my library and there's a few librarians who know me, will have to ask their opinions. Talking to a person! Not just taking one off the recommended shelf! Wild!

[l3st1b0urn3s-707]

It's been way too long since I've talked about books in here, I recently finished one of the best books I've read this year and I obviously can't keep my mouth shut about it, so this is a review of The left hand of darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin.

I' m going to start by saying that I didn't think I was going to like this book that much (I even foud it a bit slow at the begining) but boy was I wrong. So if you start it and think it's boring I can assure you you'll probably like it if you keep on reading.

So what's this book really about? It's a science fiction novel in which the main character, Genly Ai, a man from Terra (our Earth), is sent to the planet of Gethen to try to convince its people to join an spacial human alliance. What's really interesting about Gethen (appart from it being super cold) is that all of its people are ambisexual. They usually only present sexual characteristics once a month, in some kind of heat called kemmer that lasts about a week. During this time they can present either female ol male characteristics, but these rols can vary, one month you may have male genitalia and on the next one you might present as sexually female. The rest of the month, when they're in sommer they don't present any sexual characteristics whatsoever and look kind of androgynous. Gender isn't a thing in Gethen. And Genly Ai, who isn't used to that, will have to adapt to Gethen's culture.

I think I must also mention Estraven, my favourite character (I'm sorry, you know I had to), who guides Genly in this new world and shows him how things work there. I think he's a remarkable character, his relationship with Genly evolves into a pure and strong bond, not necessarily romantic, but described by both of them as love.

The left hand of darkness has heavy feminist topics that are treated in a really interesting point of view. It doesn't talk about women (there aren't any female characters in it), but it shows a society without gender norms or differences because gender does simply not exist. It shows that humans, at the end, are all humans, at that's what really is important. When Genly indentifies some steriotipically feminine behaviours in other characters and treats them as inferior you'll probably get mad at him, because he doesn't seem to really want to understand the people arround him. That's a strong message itself.

This book's exploration of gender is fascinating. It might be because I've always felt something for the concept for androgyny, but Gethen's people and culture go further and make you question your own. A book published in 1969 happens to have more feminist values than most books of the same genre nowadays. And that's what I love about this book, and specially about Le Guin. Oh, and it also critizices extreme nationalism!

So yeah, I think that's it. If anyone read this post completely I want to thank them because this got really long (I'm sorry). But I really loved this book and I can't stop thinking about it, so I needed to write something. Anyway, I really recommend this book, and I'll probably be reading more of Le Guin's novels because this woman's amazing. (And if you've read it please talk to me about it because it's now my new hyperfixation).

[iwriteasfotini]

So, I've been thinking about switching to posting my works in one go (I'm already going to do it for the war years, no question)... To clarify, they are still spread out over the coming year... But instead of posting one chapter per day, they would post on their scheduled day to completion. Then there would be a break before the next work posted in a single day.

This was my original plan before I ever started posting, but the works take SO much effort to write and edit... It made me want to reward myself by spreading out posting. I compromised and scheduled posting to happen daily, which is RARE in the fandom. But I'm wondering if it's really worth it. Because daily posting isn't really as fun as I imagined it would be. ;-) If my work is already complete, why not just post it all at once?

My reserves are that editing takes a lot of work AND I'm unsure if there is a benefit to posting daily on Ao3, like does it keep your work closer to the top of a list or something??? I'll probably still be doing minor editing to my work once it posts. I do this already... but things like a typo here and there (which still happens even when I post daily) would probably be more likely... is it worth it?

I've heard things like people like to download works to read them, which either only works for completed works or doesn't work great for WIPs because you are essentially missing content. I've never read this way because I like to comment, so IDK the specifics.

Posting at once doesn't allow you to subscribe and get those daily reminders to read. Some people like this. I am royally unconcerned about gaining subscribers to my works. They already post super fast relative to once or twice a week posting, and they will be waiting on Ao3 for those who are interested.

I'm thinking about posting the work at once, but promoting it on tumblr one day at a time, so there is still a daily component but it doesn't involve publishing on Ao3...

Thank you for reading my brain dump about this. I know it is ultimately my choice and it doesn't matter what other people think. But being newer to the fandom, I lack a lot of perspective and am always happy to listen! If you have thoughts or comments, please share. I will read them and respond to you.

Also I messed up my first go at this post and had to delete and remake it!

If anyone (@keepmycandleburning @shadowjinx2906 @everythingsbetterunderthestars) wants to reblog this to try and gain more opinions I'd appreciate it!

[dystychiphxbia]

☆ - Gym crush!

gn!reader

im just in my gym rat era so i had to do this...i didnt want this to be the first fic i publish but here we are...

v small nsfw mention in sae's part

characters; kunigami, sae, rin

Kunigami Rensuke;

pre-wc;

you meet at the gym, both relatively new to it

you learn together, always trying out new things

never ask for each other's number but still somehow end up at the gym at the same time

"what are you hitting today?" "it's leg day" "aw sucks to be you...jk i'll join you"

"need a spotter?"

he's definitely your gym crush and you always try to look extra good in front of him

trust me he's doing the same

always helps you rerack your weights!

gym bros till death do you apart

death or...blue lock.

post-wc;

kunigami just disappears for MONTHS and comes back like nothing happened

except now he wont even greet you

he completely ignores you when you ask him where he's been

you are motivated to show him your progress but you don't see him even glancing at you

"need a spotter" you would ask him, but he would simply say you are too weak

and looking at his weights, he's right

like damn how many plates is he squatting??

he would still save you if you failed a bench press though

"thanks...but i would've gotten it" "stop lying to urself"

maybe he warms up to you eventually...

i mean you never stopped going to the gym, it shows your resolve

and you didn't change at all, you still work as hard as ever and look so damn good while doing so.

Itoshi Rin;

he noticed how every sunday, you would run on the treadmill for at least an hour straight

how fast are u going??? he would always try to sneak a glance at your settings when he walks past

he would also do his warm ups on the treadmills, secretly cheering when only the one next to you is available

one sunday, you aren't there

he's actually...worried? you are there every single sunday, so why not now?

he's so relieved to see you there the sunday after that, maybe you were just sick

the thing is, he doesn't see you on any other days. he's hoping it's just cause you go at a different time, and not because you only go on sundays...

nah you have too much muscle for you to only go to gym once a week to run

but he wont change his workout times just for some person he sees once a week at the gym...until he does.

he starts going a bit earlier and later, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of you

it takes a while but he's finally there at the same time as you

you notice him, "i havent seen you here at this time before"

he's flustered, you've actually noticed him and are now talking to him???

"yeah, just changing things up a bit." he just wanted to see u!!

u always ask him to spot you and he just cant say no

one time you almost got crushed under the bar because he was busy admiring your face

yeah...he definitely has a crush on you!! but will he ever take it a step further...probably not. have you noticed...? of course you have, that's exactly why you always ask him.

Itoshi Sae;

this guy has been watching you squat since day 1

eyes glued to your ass, maybe it wasn't so impressive in the beginning but it definitely is now

he makes sure to always be at the gym when it's your squat day

of course you've noticed...you make sure to wear those gym pants that make your ass look so good!!

sometimes he stares for too long, suddenly realizing that he's just been sitting for 10 minutes

one day you come up to him, saying that you are gonna attempt a pr and need a spotter

jesus christ he almost choked on his drink

"sure." staying as cool as ever.

but watching your ass from so close almost stirs up a problem in his pants

"good job." he'll say to you afterwards, walking off.

you are kind of disappointed, he's always looking at you and that's all you get??

but no worries he'll be thinking of that sight for a while!!

slowly adjusts his schedule so that he's always coming on the same days as you

makes sure that only he spots you

also makes sure that no one else glances your way when you are squatting

cause you are HIS gym crush, not anyone else's

one day he finally gets the courage to actually talk to you

he's surprised when you call him by his name but then he remembers that he's basically a celebrity

you introduce yourself, and he's so close to asking you out on the spot

"i've seen you play on the tv, you are so good! i'd love to learn to play!"

Perfect.

he asks u to come with him to the field after your workout for lesson number one

about damn time, you think

playing football after a leg workout wasn't the easiest but maybe sae made it a bit easier for you to manage

[roseonne]

next time

Mephistopheles attempts to ask you out on White Day.

a mephisto x mc / reader for white day ! ( ao3 link )

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

"Alright. Class dismissed."

Finally.

Mephistopheles lets out the mental groan he's been holding onto since the beginning of class, around three eons ago. (He's exaggerating, obviously, but three hours did feel an awful lot longer today, for some reason.) Normally, being stuck to his chair with his ears almost hurting from hearing the significance of magical potions and their hazards, not only to humans but to angels and demons as well, over and over again, is a tolerable occurrence for him. So now, seeing that he's seemingly over everything that's had happened to him within the span of just one day, irritates the life out of him.

Hastily, and with a hint of recklessness, the RAD Newspaper Club (former) president wastes not a moment in gathering up his things and taking his leave.

Oh, thus he realizes, whilst on his way out.

Maybe that's what's keeping him so preoccupied? The piled-up articles he still has to proofread and publish; the photos in his camera that he's to edit first, then upload to the official RAD Website; and a terrifyingly long list of all the other deadlines he ought to catch up to, academic and personal matters combined.

A sigh of distress escapes the noble demon's lips. Without much thought, he fetches his D.D.D. out of his pocket and the screen immediately comes to life.

03/14/XXXX 4:46 P.M. Today's Daily Reminder: "Don't forget to celebrate White Day in your own, special way!" -Lord Diavolo

Well. That explains it.

Troubled, Mephistopheles runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the locks he made sure to keep as neat and tidy as possible. As much as he desires to fulfill Lord Diavolo's honorable (although sometimes questionable) requests, just how in the Devildom is he to juggle all his tasks and duties at once? He has his work cut out for him today, and for the rest of the week. Such a poor demon he's become. And to make things even more complicated on his end, apparently, he isn't getting any of his listed items done right on schedule. Unfortunately so.

For as if in response to his already-raging psychological turmoil, the universe provides him with the biggest, most troublesome distraction he's yet to learn to ignore and conquer...

Mephistopheles sees you.

"MC!" he calls out from the top of his lungs suddenly, surprising both you and himself as his voice appears to have acted against his will. And the fact that he rushes to your side upon instinct truly isn't helping him in the slightest. "Fancy bumping into you now of all times."

"Mephisto!" You greet him with a smile, and right away, he feels the warmth of you emanating from the center of his chest. "Good work today!"

"Likewise." Mephistopheles places a hand over his heart and bows at you slightly. "Are you heading home now?"

Your polite nod in confirmation to his query earns a rather sharp click of the demon's tongue. 

"Isn't it too early for that?" Mephistopheles raises an eyebrow. "Why don't I do you the honor of inviting you out with me for dinner, perhaps? Of course, on behalf of Lord Diavolo and the rest of RAD, we're grateful for your efforts in keeping the exchange program alive!"

The noble demon senses you feeling a little taken aback; and he understands. He figures you're probably aware of how busy he is, considering how tedious it is being the main individual manning the RAD Newspaper Club. Again, even he is growing more and more perplexed at how his body's acting. Doesn't he have so many things to do? How is he able to make it seem like he's got so much time to spare while keeping a straight face? Oh, Diavolo. He no longer recognizes himself at all.

"Uhm..." you find yourself stuttering, evidently unsure as to the kind of answer you'll provide your current pursuer. 

"If you're wondering how we'll meet, I'll pick you up at the House of Lamentation by seven." But Mephistopheles is more than ready to hush each and every one of your possible concerns. 

Shifting a little of your weight over to your other foot, you hum quite a playful, "Well..." 

Crossing his arms, but raising his index finger in the air, the demon proudly declares, "It'll be my treat, MC. Don't worry. I got you."

And you've made up your mind; Mephistopheles recognizes the familiar light in your eyes the moment your gazes briefly met and locked. 

"MC, there you are!"

But what perfect timing. In the midst of his persuasion, here comes the residents of Purgatory Hall. And the brothers of the House of Lamentation. And well, basically everyone else you hold very close to your heart.

Clearing his throat in a slight panic, Mephistopheles tries to regain your attention, "MC, please. If you would justー"

He's too late.

"I'm so sorry, Mephisto." It's the sincerest, most bittersweet apology he's been told so far. "Maybe next time!" you add quickly, as you at last get dragged farther and farther away from him.

Down the drain, goes his infrequent chance with you, yet again. Mephistopheles squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his lower lip; his mind all blank, save for the resentfulness looming heavily over him. Forget about his deadlines; his tasks; his duties; his role in the future of Devildom. Is it too much for him to ask a mere moment of your time? Is he never really going to learn more about you at this point?

Mephistopheles doesn't see it as a fair game anymore. He's one of the first few demons who's heard of your name the very day you arrived at the Devildom; and yet at least a minute of decent, proper conversation between the two of you, alone, still remains beyond his reach. 

Seeing you share the smile that he is able to somehow find comfort in with everyone else, except him... He admits, it causes a twinge of pain to swell across his chest.

How many next time's have you promised him by now, anyway? He bets you won't remember, either.

But since he isn't the type to just sit in a corner and cry; maybe he just has to keep trying, then? Like the lessons in class, over and over. He must push forward, until hopefully one day, you'll learn to look at him from a perspective different from the one you have of him at present.

...Great.

Looks like he's added yet another questionable thing up his list; which he normally would've called a pain in the rear, but it's you he's thinking of so... You're the exception. His exception. You always are, and always have been. 

Guess I'll have to try something harder than initiating conversations, Mephistopheles brings his eyes to the sky and promises; to you and to himself. Next time. 

And once he succeeds in this mission of forever, only then can he say...

That he's indeed made the progress he so longs for. With you. 

[caramel1mochi]

One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [4]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎ 

TW: Heavy depression ‎ ‎ 

Words: 5k ‎ 

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer.‎ 

Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked. Good day! Sorry for the delay, I totally haven't been eating up the Iso stuff Valorant's posting for the past few weeks like an Iso zombie, or anything. Also I might start publishing stuff a lot more slowly with everything's coming up, but I'll try my best to keep writing! Have a good read!‎ ‎‎ ‎

‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Winter, present day.

‎ ‎

You were tasked with showing up to work extra early today. Not that you had anything important to do, but Ying had an idea, and she always made her grand ideas your or Yu’s problem.

Mostly you, for some reason. Since she was your boss, you never really minded this. Actually, it was starting to grow on you, especially since she seemed incredibly busy with something else and didn’t have many other ways to release her stress.

It was important to note that this wasn’t all daisies and rainbows, however. This plan, though joyous for her, was pure torture for you.

Your path to work today consisted of you carrying a basket concealed at the top with some cloth as you walked down the pavement. Your mistake of not wearing gloves, combined with the brutally cold weather and the heaviness of said basket, it felt like your fingers were about to snap and fall off any second. Despite somehow surviving every single winter in your lifetime, you never bothered purchasing gloves since you had this habit of keeping your hands in your pockets.

Fuelled by a certain someone.

Your thoughts were curt once you pushed the door open, your entrance accompanied by a jingle as you moved towards the counter where Ying was. Though she was writing down a few things on her laptop, she immediately met your gaze with a grin and prioritised greeting you.

The heat inside the café enveloped you, and you immediately welcomed it with open arms whilst you moved.

‎ ‎

“Good morning, Y/N! Did you bring the goods?”

‎ ‎

Take that out of context.

You pocketed your headphones, then slammed the hefty basket on the counter to relieve yourself of the weight, a loud thud echoing through the empty and barely lit café. Then, you slipped off the cloth covering, immediately taking out its contents before she’d get a chance to peek.

‎ ‎

“One,”

‎ ‎

You placed one ripened passion fruit on the table, Ying’s eyes glimmering in excitement as she turned off her laptop and clasped her hands together.

‎ ‎

“Two,” you set down another, “three,” then another, “four, five, six,”

‎ 

You were careful not to set them down too hard. Despite their thick skin, you knew you could accidentally crush them. And after a whole year of tending to that cursed tree, preventing fungal infections and protecting it from anything that stood between you and a bloody good harvest, smashing the fruits was the last thing you wanted to do.

‎ ‎

“Fifteen.”

‎ ‎

You set down the final one. And by the time you looked up at Ying, her grin grew so wide it could tear her skin open with just one more fruit set to the counter.

‎ ‎

“Wonderful– this is amazing! I can only imagine how many desserts and drinks we can make with this!” She held one fruit and let her thumb scan the wrinkly skin. “And how’re your other trees, if I may ask?”

‎ ‎

With a shrug, the basket was tossed aside and you made your way behind the counter, taking out a knife from a nearby drawer. Your fingers were noticeably less stiff thanks to the heat. Though it still hurt to bend them, it wasn’t as bad as, you know, probably approaching hypothermia.

‎ ‎

“We have to wait until next summer for the harvest, I’m afraid.”

‎ ‎

“Ah, is that so? No problem; the profits we’ll make from this should make up for the time lost!”

‎ ‎

She noted with the same enthusiasm from the moment you showed her a single fruit.

You didn’t want to waste your time making the pies. Your task was to grow the fruit, not cook them. At least until she said otherwise. Again, Ying was your boss.

Once you put down the chopping board and knife you previously washed, she handed you the fruit and allowed you to cut into it. And with just one slice, it parted to reveal a slew of yellow deliciousness glimmering under the light, waiting to be ingested. Ying aimed for said ‘deliciousness’. You, however, already aimed to keep the seeds for yourself.

She took the sliced fruit and trotted off, letting you take the others and continue cutting into them. The silence was immediately broken, however, especially once another thing popped up in her mind.

‎ ‎

“I don’t want to sound like a creep, but…” she piped up from behind, “I noticed you started listening to music on the way here again.”

‎ ‎

You paused.

Right… The headphones. You mindlessly took them out last week and started using them whilst pruning your tree, the action comparable to pouring yourself a glass of water to go with a meal. As if there was no emotional attachment to such a thing. 

And it felt good, now that she mentioned it. No– it felt triumphant, actually. More pleasing than coming to work with a basketful of fruit with only the bustling of the streets to accompany you. Not that your taste in music was anything crazy, but, you know.

You promptly went back to slicing through the fruit. It took a great deal of effort not to let the looming sense of despondency consume you as if it were a blue whale.

‎ ‎

“Yeah, I… Gardening is as distracting as I remember it to be.”

‎ ‎

“You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

‎ ‎

“No, no. Not at all.”

‎ ‎

It gave you something to do other than sulk in bed all day. Ying took the sliced fruit with a smile you barely caught from the corner of your eye, before moving back to the counter behind you.

‎ ‎

“I’ve actually purchased a few other things to go along with the pies we’re making. Would you like the seeds?”

‎ ‎

You looked back to see her taking out a few other fruits and setting them on the crowded counter, right next to what you discovered was a colander. The colours of said fruit pleasantly stood out against the variety of beiges and the muted tones of the outside world. A few oranges sat adjacent to the sliced passion fruit from you, some store-bought passion fruit alongside those ones, and…

‎ ‎

“I was told oranges were your specialty a while ago. I’m hoping that’s still the case.”

‎ ‎

“...What lemon is that?”

‎ ‎

Ying paused to look back at what she’d set down, before perking up and grabbing the exact fruit you were eyeing.

‎ ‎

“Ah, you noticed? It’s a Meyer lemon! I had to wait for December and go so far to find them; I still somehow only managed to purchase two before they sold out.” She grinned to herself whilst handing it to you. “I don’t know how you used to get so many all the time.”

‎ ‎

You set down the blade, then moved to take the lemon from her, observing its familiar shape and colour. Soft, round, thin skin, and a deeper tint of yellow juxtaposed to its regular counterpart. Just how you remembered it to be.

‎ ‎

“Where’d you find them?”

‎ ‎

Ying tittered and took out another lemon, setting it alongside the pile of fruit she’d already placed.

‎ ‎

“That’s a secret. Anyhow, I’ll need to fire up the ovens now and call in a few others. I guarantee that…”

‎ ‎

She continued speaking, but you tuned her out in favour of taking in the lemon’s characteristics all over again. It’s been a while since you’ve seen one of those. Heck, it’s been a while since you were even able to stomach thinking about Meyer lemons. But now, sure, they were doing their cursed job of reminding you of Yu, but what chiefly took over your mind was how you’d be able to plant this on your balcony again. The process, the space, all of that previously buried information was now slowly digging itself out. Huh.

A cold sensation on your thumb snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked down to realise that you accidentally dented the skin, deep enough for the juice to spill. You promptly shook your head and went back to work.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

It took a while for you to finally clean out all of the pots and fill them with their respective soils. And it took an even longer while for you to plant your seeds, organising them outside on the balcony, where there was more room. Your apartment was now slowly growing more and more synonymous with a forest. Plants and bushes everywhere, you swore the air also started to change the more you tended to all of it.

You stood back and proudly dusted off your hands, heaving a tired sigh in the process of catching your breath. Despite the cold temperature that poked at your skin like an army of wasps, you were still heavily sweating, and it felt like your chest was burning.

How the heck did you do this all the time without anyone’s help? You thought, but again, you were more physically capable of things like this given your… erm, better diet and mental state. Better than whatever the heck it was now before Ying convinced you to pick up gardening again. It felt like your muscles had deteriorated after a year of… well, after a year.

Whatever. If there was one thing you were going to do, it’s to return to how you were before Yu left. Maybe even better. And these plants were the first step to getting there. You took the pen and sticky notes set on a table near the corner and began writing. The ice cold temperature of said pen stung your fingers, but it’s not like that stopped you.

‘orange’, and ‘passion fruit’.

But you stopped halfway through writing the word ‘lemon’. You haven’t planted any lemons. In fact, you ran out of pots, as unbelievable as that sounded.

You wanted to plant the lemons right now. No, you needed to. If you don’t start now, how long will it take until you finally get fruit? Besides, Ying’s thirst for fresh fruit wouldn’t be quenched any time soon.

But… there was no room.

…

You sighed, and went back inside. There was one solution in mind. But that solution required a level of bravery you could never hope to achieve. And now that she mentioned it, you could hardly put on the headphones without thinking of Yu. You barely managed to plant those two fruits without being reminded of your parents over and over; how were you supposed to even think of approaching Meyer lemons?

It just seemed too ambitious. It seemed like it was too soon, especially when you were still technically grieving Yu’s disappearance.

But the idea was tempting, to plant the lemons in Yu’s backyard. His house was practically abandoned, right? It wasn’t… occupied. How could you, though? Exploit your boyfriend’s generosity like that? Not only his generosity, but for sharing something so vulnerable with you, only to be used for your own selfish goals when he wasn’t around to–

Your thoughts were interrupted once the music in your ears paused in favour of the ringtone that began playing. Someone was calling. And you rushed to your phone on the other side of the balcony, checking the name.

Ying. 

Why would she be calling you today? At night?Nevertheless, you answered and pocketed the device.

‎ ‎

“Hello?”

‎ ‎

“Good evening!”

‎ ‎

You immediately flinched at the sound of multiple plates clanking against each other. That wasn’t to mention the people speaking loudly in the background. Though far away and, quite frankly, muffled, you were too used to the serene ambient playlist you had going.

‎ ‎

"Ying, it's ten. Why're you still at work?"

‎ ‎

"You should've seen it, Y/N! People went crazy over the pastries, they– they think I put some kind of secret ingredient in there! No, in fact, they actively avoided the store-bought passion fruit; they wanted yours!" She excitedly laughed to herself. "Can you believe it? I never thought using fresh fruit could have such an effect!"

‎ ‎

You ran your fingers through your messy hair, unable to hold back the smirk that painted your features.

‎ ‎

"No kidding."

‎ ‎

"I'll give you a cut of it this month. But we're only a few sales shy of purchasing that painting! What would I do without you, Y/N?"

‎ ‎

She let out a content sigh. You noted the unwavering excitement in her voice. Heck, you even knew that her cheeks were currently twisting to accommodate a wide smile despite being on the other side of the phone. But she kept the volume of her voice low, almost as if she were holding herself back in order to maintain her air of professionalism, or whatever.

But…

‎ ‎

“Ying. We need to talk.”

‎ ‎

“Wait, just one second.”

‎ ‎

Ying muted her microphone before you could tell her about what ran through your mind. And the doubt grew the more seconds that passed. Should you really tell her what was going on, or should you just deal with it alone?

Your heart jumped out of your chest once you heard an audible thud from behind you, quickly turning to see what the noise was. But you immediately calmed down the moment you recognised the wrinkly lump that sat on the ground, barely reflecting the light off of its thick purple skin.

It was a passion fruit from the tree. You… missed one.

Ying then unmuted, snatching your attention with ease.

‎ ‎

“I’m sorry, what were we saying?”

‎ ‎

"Something about a painting. Look, there’s something important..." you glanced at the other pots as you leaned on the wall behind you, "Ying, there's no more room."

‎ ‎

"Huh? For the plants?"

‎ ‎

"Yes. My balcony is full, and I ran out of pots."

‎ ‎

"I see... And buying a new pot is not an option, is it?"

‎ ‎

"No."

‎ ‎

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

‎ ‎

"I– I have a solution in mind, but it's hard to swallow."

‎ ‎

Your voice shifted to a hushed whisper towards the end of that sentence, and the despondency hit you like a truck. Was this even a good idea? Was telling her a good idea? What if she shuns you for such a thing? 

‎ ‎

"What is it?"

‎ ‎

Silence settled for a moment, before you finally gathered the remnants of courage you had and spoke up.

‎ ‎

"I'm..." you started, "I'm thinking of planting the lemons in his house. In his… backyard"

‎ ‎

...

‎ ‎

"His... house?"

‎ ‎

"Yes."

‎ ‎

Crap. The silence must be indicative of shock; she must be disgusted by this selfish idea, just like you were. This was the exact reaction you were afraid o–

‎ ‎

"Ah, that's a great idea! I assume you visited his house before; do you still have the keys?"

‎ ‎

"I do. He gave them to me."

‎ ‎

"Perfect, then yes, I think you should do it!"

‎ ‎

Ying cried out in excitement, all of the professionalism she feigned melting like ice cream on a hot summer day, all because of you. Presumably in public, considering the bustling you still heard from the other side.

So much for maintaining her mellowness… 

‎ ‎

"Yu told me once about how dead his house felt, no matter what he’d do. This could be the most ideal solution to that!"

‎ ‎

"In what way is that the solution?"

‎ ‎

You said with a wry laugh as you opened the door and went back inside, but Ying wasn't bothered by your pessimism whatsoever.

‎ ‎

"Because gardening is the perfect contrast to death!"

‎ ‎

...

‎ ‎

"Pardon?"

‎ ‎

"When you strip down all of the complicated details, gardening is technically giving life to an inanimate object, Y/N! You take a seed, something no different from a– a rock– a pebble, and nurture it. You turn it into a tree, and it's amazing! It's an extraordinary process!"

‎ ‎

You were expecting her to mention the still air, how having plants there would freshen it up, or the fact that his house was generally abandoned and it would be more beneficial to just use it, but this wasn’t what was in your mind.

‎ ‎

"...Ying, look, I respect your fascination with philosophy, but this is–"

‎ ‎

"Not only that, but a tree is a being that benefits everything around it. It– it replaces the oxygen, it bears fruit, and it returns what it has taken from its environment!"

‎ ‎

"Ying."

‎ ‎

"Think about it! When you picture a ghost town, what comes to mind? Now imagine that ghost town with a touch of mother nature. Fascinating, right?"

‎ ‎

Oh my god.

She seemed far too swept away with this topic, as if these thoughts had been festering in her head for the past few months with no outlet... until you came into the picture. Wait just a second, was this why she wanted you to go back to gardening? Or maybe you were just overthinking things.

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears as you tried to drag her back down to reality.

‎ ‎

"I think you should understand how valuable gardening is, Y/N–"

‎ ‎

"Ying!"

‎ ‎

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry, I–" She tittered, clearly embarrassed. "I must've gotten carried away."

‎ ‎

“It’s fine.”

‎ ‎

She already sounded cheesy throughout this entire ordeal, but this was starting to get out of hand. You sighed, unable to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot as you stared out the window, observing a family of three hopping on a bus.

In fact, it wasn't too far-fetched to assume that Ying had a high opinion of you for your gardening just as Yu did this whole time, and she was indirectly telling you now. What else could possibly explain this random tangent?

…An idea promptly popped up.

‎ ‎

"Look, Ying, I have to go. I need to… do something."

‎ ‎

You immediately stood up from the couch and left to take out the sealed bag full of seeds stashed deep within the kitchen’s cupboards. 

‎ ‎

“Do something?”

‎ ‎

"I'll ring you up later. We'll keep talking about this on Monday."

‎ ‎

All Ying did was successfully add on to your confusion for the past few minutes, sure, but maybe she also ignited a bit of inspiration in you, given what you were doing. Then, you turned and grabbed a few keys from your drawers, shoving them in the pockets of the thick coat you were about to wear.

‎ ‎

"Oh, I see. I’ll let you do whatever it is you want to do. And if you’d like any help, I’m one text away."

‎ ‎

Despite being on the other side of the phone, you could feel a misplaced cheeky grin force itself on her face. One that, as opposed to the merry and artless one from before, would absolutely look weird on someone as mature and mellow as her. Well, as mellow as she tried to be. She just couldn’t hold back around you, for some reason.

But it still seems like she caught on.

‎ ‎

“Break a leg out there."

‎ ‎

And with that, you closed the call and pocketed your phone, rushing down the flight of stairs. Only two more minutes until the specific bus you aimed for would arrive, and you did not want to miss it, that’s for sure.

Ying's little tangent was so incredibly cloying, it nearly gave you a headache by the end of it. She spoke like a mum who watched way too many soppy movies from the 90's... Well, you might've caught her recommending a few to your co-workers.

But it may have been exactly what you needed to get you on your feet. You were going to plant those seeds. And in her words, 'bring life back' to that house. You weren’t going to allow the pessimistic side of you convince you otherwise.

Now that you weren't in on call, you were free to take out one earbud and play music once more whilst you ran towards the closed gates.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

Winter, two and a half years ago.

‎ ‎

Even after a considerable amount of time had passed, Yu’s house remained just as empty as when you first visited it. ‘It’s because I moved most of my stuff to your apartment!’ he explained when you questioned him on it. But if that were the case, why were most of them blankets? Even the bloody misters he brought along were purchased from the stores situated outside of your complex.

Oh, who were you kidding? It was on par for someone like him to own only heaps of blankets and hoodies.

And even though this was your second time visiting it, the place felt lonelier than before, for some reason. The rooms felt vast, despite how tiny they really were. Mostly thanks to the echo and the lack of furniture, but that’s by the by. And that wasn’t to mention the photos strewn around the walls. More specifically, the family photos. They left an impact on you despite being few and far between.

‎ ‎

Across the living room was an arched doorway that led to what would’ve looked like a black hole had it not been for the sunlight. That’s where you two stopped whilst Yu was fiddling with his keys. And instead of letting yourself in, you allowed the dark patterned wall to lead you to something you probably shouldn’t have found so interesting.

Hung above the fireplace was a picture you could hardly see thanks to the dim colour scheme that blended in with the surrounding darkness. Nevertheless, you still managed to outline two specks of purple on a toddler’s eyes, surrounded by stunning green foliage and the Russian violet coat of a woman who carried him.

It was… Yu. Being held by, presumably, his mother. Or his grandmother; it was hard to tell. Who knew he looked like such a cute baby? Also, how the heck did his round cheeks morph into the slick jawline he has right now?

‎ ‎

“Remember how you showed me your balcony a while ago?” Yu’s voice swiftly snatched your attention, “I’d like to show you something in return.”

‎ ‎

“What is it?”

‎ ‎

He moved down the short hallway and opened a cherry door to his left, his steps muffled by the crimson carpet flooring.

‎ ‎

“I left a few keys in my bedroom, can you get them while I go to– uh, while I… do something?”

‎ ‎

He looked at you with an innocent smile, awaiting an answer. Just like the painting, his bright eyes brilliantly shimmered in the darkness. In fact, now that you’ve seen him as a baby, it became harder and harder to resist saying yes.

‎ ‎

“I'll be back.”

‎ ‎

And with that, you moved to his vacant bedroom.

Though there were bedsheets, the bed still lacked a blanket. Which, to be fair, should be expected at this point. Once you flicked the light switch, you promptly took off your shoes and stepped on the large patterned rug, nearing the dusty furniture.

Incidentally, the patterns didn’t fit his style, now that you thought about it. In fact, the entire house looked like it was decorated by someone older. Much, much older. And Yu was way too dorky to fit that criteria. But whatever.

Searching was easy at best, especially since most of the drawers on the vanity table were empty. Within a few picoseconds of opening and slamming them, you were done, and had already moved on to the closet that harboured a few hoodies at best. Where the heck was the key? ‎ ‎

“Yu, where is it?”

‎ ‎

You called out, your voice echoing through the house. And it took only a few seconds before he shouted his response from what seemed to be… outside?

‎ ‎

“On the bedside table, it should be on the right!”

‎ ‎

You sighed and moved to the one on the right.

But just as you pulled the drawer back, you heard a large gust of wind billow through the house. Accompanying that wind was a cold sensation that forced you to shiver as you searched.

‎ ‎

“What’re you doing out there, Yu?”

‎ ‎

The moment you slammed the drawer shut, he presumably closed the door as well and prevented the air from further entering.

‎ ‎

“Nothing! I’ll show you when you’re back.”

‎ ‎

‘When you’re back’, huh? Jeez, you weren’t sure whether he was preparing something cute or trying to stop a disaster from happening.

‎ ‎

“Careful. You have no idea how high my expectations are getting.”

‎ ‎

He responded with a barely audible chuckle, and your cold heart just about melted. Since the top was empty, you pulled back the bottom drawer instead. However, just as your eyes settled on the objects inside, your mind went blank.

A medallion glimmered under the weak lights above you. And despite the darkness, you could outline an hourglass symbol etched onto the reflective object. But that wasn’t what concerned you. What concerned you was the gun that sat right next to it.

Why was there a gun?

‎ ‎

“Did you find it?”

‎ ‎

You jumped and shut the drawer, turning to see him standing behind you.

‎ ‎

“Uh– no, no I haven’t.”

‎ ‎

“Really? I know I put it there.”

‎ ‎

Within a few steps, Yu already found himself right next to you, and he pulled the first drawer open, grabbing the keys that were concealed by the sharp shadows.

‎ ‎

“Here it is. It must’ve been the lights.”

‎ ‎

“I… guess it was.”

‎ ‎

There was a gun in the bottom drawer.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay? You look pale.”

‎ ‎

He cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping away a bead of sweat with his thumb. Just as he did that, however, you quickly broke the embrace and took a step back.

‎ ‎

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need some air.”

‎ ‎

He was surprised. That much, you could tell.

‎ ‎

“Oh… Okay, follow me.”

‎ ‎

He promptly led you outside and took a sharp turn to the right, leading you towards a section of the house you haven’t explored yet. But that didn’t concern you. Instead, you kept your eyes on the ground as you followed him, unable to control the questions that took over you. Why would there be a gun in his bedroom? Should you bring it up? And what about that medallion? It was next to the weapon…

Okay, maybe you were overthinking things. It could be some band, or something. Maybe the gun was fake. Heck, maybe you didn’t see a gun at all. Maybe you were–

‎ ‎

“Here, you’ll need this.”

‎ ‎

Your thoughts were knocked out of your head once you saw Yu grab something from the nearby wall and hold it up to you.

Turns out it was a robe. He took it from the nearby coat stand. Long and soft, its pristine beige tufts were highlighted by the sunlight. It was only once your eyes settled on the wooden double doors did you realise that he planned on taking you outside…

Oh. 

‎ ‎

“You have a backyard?”

‎ ‎

“Mhm.”

‎ ‎

He draped the robe over you, allowing the thin yet warm material to enfold and protect you from the oncoming wave of cold. Then, he opened the door and let in even more sunlight.

You stepped out and observed the area around you. Closed off by a fence of stone, heaven itself stood before you… if it weren’t drowning in snow. Thanks to the winter season, what would’ve been a stunning tree was instead a massive dead log that barely held itself, its branches protruding outwards in a sickly manner.

You took a few steps forward as you took in the place, allowing the fresh air to fill your lungs.

‎ ‎

“If I were you, I’d only leave this place in the winter.”

‎ ‎

“And let your fruit die?”

‎ ‎

You stopped, taking a moment to process how that related to the current conversation. And it only took a few seconds for it to click.

‎ ‎

“Is that your way of inviting me to plant here?”

‎ ‎

He shrugged innocently.

‎ ‎

“You said it. Not me.”

‎ ‎

You smiled and allowed him to pull you into a hug, your head pressing up against his chest. Despite the misapprehension that he was, ahem, ‘subtle’, he was the exact opposite.

‎ ‎

“Shouldn’t you build a swimming pool here? For summer…”

‎ ‎

“Hmm. That’s an idea.”

‎ ‎

He thoughtfully mumbled to himself, before something else caught your attention. The hoodie that he wore was loose, now that he had taken off his jacket and scarf. It revealed a good portion of his neck.

However, before you could point this out, he pulled away and spoke up once more.

‎ ‎

“I don’t like spending too much time here, to be honest. Too many… uh, memories. But maybe…” he weakly smiled, “maybe you’ll find this place more useful than I ever could.”

‎ ‎

With his hands in yours, you felt an unfamiliar texture on your palm. It was only when he pulled away that you realised that he had given you the two keys from the bedroom drawer.

‎ ‎

“These are the spare keys. You gave me yours; it’s… only fair I give you mine.”

‎ ‎

You stared at him in silence, the ice cold metal settling in the warm palm of your hand. But instead of feeling some sort of joy, you felt your stomach churn at the thought of the gun.

Even without said gun to cloud your mind, you had no idea how to feel about this. Should you be happy, sad, or relieved? How did he feel when you gave him your keys? It was as if you were unappreciative of anything he did, like sadness was the only thing your mind knew how to feel. And that wasn’t what you–

His hand landed on your shoulder, snapping you out of your panicked frenzy.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay?”

‎ ‎

You sighed. 

‎ ‎

“Yu, I–”

‎ ‎

You were torn between asking him about the gun and admitting how you felt. Either way, it was a lose-lose dichotomy.

…

You grabbed his hand, fingers interlocked like two puzzle pieces connecting.

‎ ‎

“You’re cold.”

‎ ‎

“Hm?”

‎ ‎

If you were stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, you might as well dig yourself out, right? And that’s what you did.

You pocketed the keys, then held his hand in both of yours to check his temperature. And you were right; he was starting to get cold. Very cold.

‎ ‎

“It– it’s not that bad, Y/N. Really. The hoodie is warm enough.”

‎ ‎

“Don’t start with that. You’ll get a fever.”

‎ ‎

A misplaced grin painted his features.

‎ ‎

“Really?”

‎ ‎

You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer.

‎ ‎

“Shut up and come here.”  

‎ ‎

Yu lightly laughed as you wrapped the soft robe around him, bringing him to you to share your warmth. Of course the thought of you nursing him back to health was tempting to him. Knowing how cheesy he was, you’d have to be watchful so that he wouldn’t orchestrate something like that.

With his arm around your shoulder, you took out the keys again, sombrely observing their shape.

[citrus-cactus]

Citrus' Art Summary 2024!

I made my own template this year, based on filling in all the squares of a 5x7 grid. Not sure I recommend this method; it was difficult to both place pieces in roughly chronological order and make the layout varied & interesting, and I feel like the final result is too easily divisible into (uneven) quadrants, which I wanted to avoid. Ah well, maybe I'll think up a better system next year! :)

This is a bit of an odd year for an art summary, because while I created something every month and I'm legitimately proud of SO MANY of these, I kind of... stopped publishing my art to the Internet in the latter part of the year. There are various reasons for this. I'm not sure all of them are good, especially given the above statement about being proud of everything I made on the whole. But I'll talk about that beneath the cut, since that's where I usually ruminate about the year. There are also links to full pieces (where they exist) at the very end.

***

First, the positive! I branched out a lot this year (or at least... continued the trends that were starting to form in 2023). I did a lot of uh... darker/more serious art? Which I have enjoyed immensely, though I know it can be a bit of a tone whiplash compared to most of my finished art from past years. I love cute, happy things!! But I have these other dimensions that have long been in need of exercising. My favorite thing that I did is probably the first Bad End Takuma piece from January, which was for Survive Week. I just... really love how it came together. It surprised me every step of the way, and it was full of happy accidents (despite the subject matter! Lol). I still look at it and am like "wow! I made that!!" But I really like October's piece too. It's an illustration for a fanfic I'm (still) working on, and it gives me emotions. Justice for minor characters. Justice for minor characters for 1000 years!!! XD

Besides fanart, I made some other things! I published a secret fanfic (it's absolutely not hard to find if you're willing to do a little searching, but there's no way I'm going to link to it ever! Sorryyyyy! :3). I spent two weeks in Iceland, and somehow that inspired a fair bit of artistic endeavors XD September shows a small sample of a digital collage that includes several photos my spouse and I took (as well as some other stuff. The full piece partially communicates my somewhat-cynical thoughts about being a tourist in Iceland). November shows a drawing from an 8-page zine about hiking the Laugavegur Trail, which was an amazing experience! I also cross-stitched a Christmas ornament for a family member this month! None of these were intended for an Internet audience, but they were all fun and somewhat different to do!

So... yeah, the whole "not sharing art" thing. It started because I was... kind of frustrated with how few notes I felt I was getting compared to how hard I felt I had worked on some of these pieces? Which is... I mean, I know it's silly. More effort =/= more notes, especially since I'm focusing my creative efforts on such tiny little niches of the Digimon fandom (sadly, Appmon and Digimon Survive are just not that popular, especially compared to Adventure!), so any "engagement" on that art is going to be low, because the audience is just not that large to begin with. Plus, activity on Tumblr just seems to be tailing off in general. And I GET that numbers on posts shouldn't matter. I really, super-duper get that! But when something you worked really hard on and are excited to see people respond to only gets a handful of notes... well, it does kind of sting a bit, or makes me feel like I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up about it being received well. And then I end up waiting with baited breath for the usernames associate I with the fandom to react to it. If I don't see them in my notes, does it mean they hate it? Or did they just miss it? It's not something I have any control over, so why does it matter to me?

And it's NOT to say I don't appreciate the notes and comments I DO get. I appreciate them so much!! I just hate knowing that my worth as an artist has become tangled up in this notice-me-senpai attitude I seem to have created for myself. I hate caring about numbers (I know I should not care about them!), and I hate how much I seem to care about numbers. Posting used to bring joy, but now it brings... I don't know, anxiety and entitlement mixed with disappointment, I guess? So I decided to remove it from of my art process. I took a purposeful hiatus from The Numbers and caring about who sees my art to really just create for myself, for the first time in many years... and overall, I think it was a healthy way to hit "reset" on myself and my ego's ravenous desires.

But now... well, I don't exactly know to proceed.

There are things I do want to post, that I want other people to see! But the situation on Tumblr and on the Internet at large really isn't any different, and I'm not sure it's different in my brain, either. Can I continue to not care about The Numbers if I put them back in my life? I hope so, but I'm not certain. On top of that, I'm doing a lot of of art for a different fandom, and I'm still unpacking... well, let's call it what it is: a seemingly unending supply of middle school shame that I feel about Liking This Thing Too Much, which (apparently) never really went away. Yikes! This is a "me" problem, it has ALWAYS been a "me" problem. So that's a fun feeling to have (...not :/). Plus it's just... idk, different fandom, different people, different opinions flying around, I've been away from it for so long, do I really belong here?? But of course I do (even when I feel like I'm being so incredibly cringe... looking at you, August). I bring my own unique viewpoints to all the fandoms that I'm a part of (as does everyone!), and by sharing our ideas and stories and passions, we create our own community and extend the lives of the things we love. I do want to continue to be a part of that, but getting back on that horse is hard for me right now! I took a posting hiatus for health, but it also made me that much more shy. I have been thinking about my Return to Posting Art for months at this point, which again feels silly, because it's so easy to hit "post" on one of the many things I have saved up. I probably will go back to it... I'm just not exactly sure when. Maybe when I have something Digimon-related to share. Digimon is comfortable and safe. It's the only fandom I've felt like I really belong in. Sharing anything else feels... too personal somehow, and also too unknown. All of these have been thorny problems to grapple with, and I'm still working my way through them, carefully and slowly.

So yeah. Phew! If you made it through all that existential angst, you deserve a medal! But I can't give you one, so here are those links to the full pieces that I promised:

JANUARY: Bad End Takuma #1 ("Cooperation")

FEBRUARY: Survive Week Day 5 ("Villains")

MARCH: Dark Ages Gargirls

APRIL: HaruShinkai-Daily 4th Anniversary/100 Follower omake

MAY: Bad End Takuma #2 ("Darkness & Loss")

JUNE: Happy Birthday, Haru! (2024)

JULY: OC drawn on iPad

OCTOBER: “True” fanfic illustration

[goodluckclove]

I'm having a lot of fun talking with people about why they struggle in their writing, and I figure I'd share a little bit about what would keep me from writing. It's especially relevant given how soon Blind Trust is coming out - and, like I said, if you're willing to be real to me I'll be real right back.

I'll put it under a read more, as I've had the amount of alcohol that it takes me to be extra loose - meaning half of one canned cocktail. And I don't want to freak anyone out who doesn't want to see me feel a little more angsty than I tend to be online. But as I said before, I want to be honest about the craft as much as I urge others to be.

Here we goooo. Say goodbye to proper capitalization babies, Dad's getting funky.

so i started writing when i was twelve years old. i wrote carnation, a 10k word zombie novella about thinly-veiled representations of me and my two best friends at the time fighting zombies. it wasn't very good. i never wrote anything before. i enjoyed it though, so i proceeded to keep writing, near-constantly for the next fifteen years.

here's the thing, though, and it's something i don't see a lot of elder writers talk about. probably because it's not a super pleasant thing to hear, but i'm pretty sure i could pull it off.

uh, my name is clove gardener. i'm twenty-seven years old now. and i do not think i'm that good of a writer.

i don't think i'm bad. i mean, i've been published. i've worked as a copywriter and a ghostwriter. i've written for work for a few years now, so - like - objectively it must be passable. i don't hate my writing. i think it's accessible, which is cool. but if you were to ask me hey do you think you're a good writer? i would skirt around the question without answering directly until i could figure out a way to change the subject.

at this point i don't think that's going to go away. the improvement, though, has been that i barely think about that anymore. it's like there's a little dipshit in the back of my head, and occasionally he will hiss-whisper this is shit what are you doing until I find a way to shut him up.

i kind of feel like that's just the thing that happens when you're a writer. it's the camp i'd rather be in, at least. because the alternative is that i'm a really good writer who might consider themselves capable to claim authority and tell you how to do things i actually know nothing about. i'd rather have doubt. maybe less than what i have now, but still.

writers, i think, overlap with theater kids in the sense of being dramatic little piss babies. i am proud to say that i am significantly less of a piss baby than i potentially could be, especially considering that i'm in writing and theater. but you're bound to be a little dramatic at some point.

i think in the six-ish months since i've started blind trust, i've had maybe two creative existential crises. that's pretty good. that's reasonable. and they were not too unproductive either. i've learned that you can feel whiny and pitying and scared and self-loathing, and still do the thing.

i don't think you should publish your book. cool, ryan (i named my inner dipshit ryan). i'm doing it anyway.

nobody actually wants to pay money for it. yeah, ryan. maybe.

you're a terrible writer. i like it, though. i want to see how it ends. so let's keep going.

if you're wanting to publish/self-publish, and you think you don't have a chance because you aren't a beacon of self-assurance and confidence - guess what, buddy, i don't think many of the greats were. it's almost a stereotype i've seen of famous writers also being angsty weirdos who crumble into despair because the apple they ate was slightly too mealy (this is based on nothing but i can see it happening to kafka). if you think you can't be a writer because you aren't like me - friend, colleague, son, daughter, child, we are both angsty weirdos and that's okay.

last week i sobbed because riley showed me a video where a kiwi bird was sad and we had to spend the rest of the night watching videos of kiwi birds before donating to a kiwi bird charity. i make one phone call to the doctor and i have to lie down for the rest of the day. i am kind, i am fun, i am funny, and i am also like three bad dice rolls away from a breakdown. you can be both of those things. i have nuance.

i'm fine, by the way. it's been a good day. i'm just stressed about publishing because the thought of asking people to pay Human Currency for my work makes me deeply uncomfortable. but we're going to fucking deal with that, aren't we, ryan?

i don't know if this is unprofessional to reveal, but if it convinces one person to pursue a life in writing even though they sometimes take a trip to the Panic Zone, fuck it. i'm fine, you're fine, we're all going to be fine.

we should name our inner dipshits. drop your dipshit names below. ryan is your classic little goblin, but he's dressed like an e-boy. i think he vapes. i hate him.

[dollgutssss]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬

Toji Fushiguro has never known rabies. He has been angry, yes, he has been annoyed and enraged, he has broken things, he has pulled out his hair and his short nails managed to pierce the epidermis of his own palm, but he has never known rabies. His face may be a lost sculpture of Babylon —a mysterious way of describing it and proving its existence, like the hanging gardens, probably destroyed during the rule of a tyrant— but not the remains of Sodom and Gomorrah. Perhaps at some point 27 shrines were made in his name and then they stopped counting them since they believe that, when some God created him, he thought Make it Devil. Make it Tender. Make it Hell-Raiser and bestowed upon it a cynical heart choked with much froth.

Beliefs have a certain grounding: every time Toji appears, it's like watching some prime work of new french extremity —a little art, a little terror, that fear of the other, of him, specifically, and that's a lot of grotesque commas already. Maybe you were being too chaotic, but he makes you this way. He molds you to his gaze. When he looks at you, it looks like a taunt, a shock. It makes you squeal internally and you feel your body plunge into the uncanny valley of romance.

You deduce everything as soon as you see him through the window. There are only so many times you've interacted with him, the new neighbor. No one ever comes to this town in disgrace, but he is. He exists, he arrived here three months ago. And it is exactly three months that this town has suffered a great ordeal. If hell had a door, physically Toji would be it, even if his son looked like an angel. The younger one has soft features, maybe something sweet like the shape of his nose and long eyelashes, compared to his father, coarse, sharp… Maybe, just the way he half-opens his mouth trying to think before he speaks, is the only soft thing you can highlight about him. Unusually exciting.

With a little pride you think, if he spent one night with you, he wouldn't be able to sleep for the next few weeks.

english is not my first language, so, SORRY IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS LITTLE STUFF. this is just a preview of a longer one-shot <3

add: "make it devil, make it tender, make it hell-raiser" is a reference to the dollie rot song (love it).

୨ৎ if you liked it, you can let me know! so maybe I'll publish the longer version </3