#also good to know that if I don't draw for several months i will forget how to draw hair and everything else :')

[blakbonnet]

Guess who just got called romance novel boyfriend by his lil crush? [x] my meagre art skills have returned from war <3

[willowser]

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

[skywarpie]

Heyyyyy! Could I get Copia/reader with “go on. fuck yourself on my cock” from the prompt list plsssss? Doesn’t matter whether reader is AMAB or uses a strap :)

Send me a prompt

will have it as AMAB bc I don't feel like we see enough copia/male reader. Anyway, all under the cut bc well, yea.

This also got very long. Sorry bout that

He's pent up. You can tell by the way he holds his shoulders. The way he's tensed up as he rumages through his file cabinet. He gets like this sometimes. But those times often have something to do with Imperator or Nihil. Sometimes even both. That's when these episodes are the worst.

"Something on your mind, Sunshine?" You lean against your desk, arms folded over your chest. You don't fail to realize how it draws no reaction from him.

Oh, this one is really bad.

"Copia?" The word is barely past your lips before you see the facade slowly beginning to deteriorate . You try one more time.

"Copia."

The file cabinet slams shut, and you watch as the Cardinal rips his biretta from his head. He twists it in his gloved hands and then, judging by the movement, you think he tries to rip it. He gives up and flings it across the room with a muffled shout. Next to go is his fascia.

Copia rips the fabric from around his neck. "I can't breathe in this. I -- I need this to --"

"Hey. Hey." You approach him like a frightened wild animal. "It's okay." A hand softly places itself between his shoulder blades, and Copia just cracks.

You don't even have a chance to register the mood change before he's balling his hands into your vestments, pulling you as close as possible to himself. He buries his face in your chest as a broken sob wrenches from his throat.

It feels like time stands still.

Copia has had mental breakdowns before thanks to those 2 idiots, however, this is different. This is more severe, and as you watch him burrow further against you, you're suddenly worried he may suffocate himself.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." You pull him into a tight hug. Has he always been this small? This boney? There's the dreaded thought that he's missing meals again, but that's not the focus right now.

You walk him over to one of the extra chairs in your office. It takes some coaxing, but you finally get him to sit. He looks so broken and it makes your blood boil with the thought that Imperator has this much power over him.

A silence settles between the two of you as you grab a box of tissues to offer him. He takes one without hesitation as you sit in your chair across from him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He dabs at the runny black makeup on his cheeks.

A typical response, but you're fluent in Copia speak by now, and know exactly what he needs.

"Come here." You pat your lap. In the time it takes you to blink, he's already situated on your lap, head tucked under your chin. "That's a good boy." You card your fingers through his mousy brown locks, occasionally scratching at his scalp. He'll never say it, but you know he loves it.

The two of you stay this way for some time. After a while, you go back to filing out the paperwork you were originally working on. It's just an added bonus to have him in your lap.

It's when you're halfway through the first packet that you feel it. Kisses along your jawline. They're soft and you can easily ignore them. Well, at least until a hand is stroking you through your pants.

You pull back to look at him. "Copia.."

He bats his eyes up at you. "Yes?"

One you've learned over the last few months, is that Copia is quick to recover from bad situations. Just maybe his idea of forgetting is different than your's. But it's really hard to complain when he's so good with his mouth. Like really good.

The hand cupping you squeezes, and you let out a groan.

"I think I've found a good distraction."

Copia pulls himself off your lap. For a split second, you're upset. His warmth gone, but the second you see him sink on his knees to the floor between your legs, any resentment is gone.

You instinctively widen your legs. You're also unable to think about anything other than how he must have been hand crafted from Satan himself with how well he sits at your feet.

"Is that so?" You hiss as he frees your hardened cock from your work trousers. The cold air sends a jolt from head to base, but warm lips are suddenly caressing the rapidly purpling head. "Seems a bit of a drastic change. No?" Your brow furrows as he kitten licks at the slit, collecting any pre-cum. "One minute, you're on the verge of a panic attack. The next my cock's in your mouth."

He laughs at that and your heart swells because it's an actual laugh. Something you haven't heard from him today. "I am a good multi-tasker, si?"

You should probably tell him that this is a bad idea. That he shouldn't be sucking you off, but rather working on his frayed mental state that the clergy loves to worsen.

But you don't.

Instead, you watch as he licks a stripe up the underside of your cock. He stops when he reaches the tip, gently sucking. Thats all the encouragement you need.

You grab a fistful of his hair and shove him downward, effectively choking him. His body tenses as he tries to cough, but you offer no relief. Instead, you force him to take you into his throat, growling as you watch him (and feel him) swallow around you.

You spend several moments fucking his face, but ultimately realize that's not how you want this tryst to go. You yank him off your cock and watch the spit from his lips connect to the head as he coughs.

"Undress."

You watch his eyes light up before doing as told.

When he finally stands before you naked, you are able to confirm sadly that, yes, he has been missing meals again. His ribs are practically showing through his pale skin. "Come here."

He straddles your hips, your cocks rubbing together in the process. You watch his eyes roll back in his head. Typically you'd take the time to prepare him, but you know he's still slick and lose from your coupling this morning.

All the more convenient.

"Go on. Fuck yourself on my cock." In situations like this, you've learned it's best to make him feel like he has the upper hand.

Copia leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as he lines himself up. You both groan when you slip inside him with no resistance. He rolls his hips several times as he reacquaints himself with your cock inside him. Breathy 'ahs' and 'ohs' ghosting across your lips from the close proximity.

You take the initiative to smash your mouths together. One hand is on Copia's hip, while the other is buried in his hair, deeping the kiss as you lick into his mouth, tasting him.

He squeaks and breaks the kiss when you pinch one of his pink nipples. Vaguely, the idea of clamps attached to them while you pull him around crosses your mind. But that will have to wait for another time.

He sobs when you bend your head down to suck one into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the bud, teeth nipping slightly. He arches his back into you as he fucks himself on your cock.

You give one last hard suck before moving onto the other one. Your free hand always makes sure to continue abusing the other bud.

"Beautiful." The praises fall from your lips like kisses. Your lips latch onto his pale neck, sucking until there's a purple bruise. "Let go for me, Sunshine." You take his cock in hand, giving him one, two, three strokes before he's cumming over your hand, back arched so much it almost looks painful.

"That's it."

You stroke him through it until he collapses against you.

Then you chase your own high, fucking up into him without mercy. He squeaks and groans with each thrust until your hands are yanking his hips down further on your cock, making sure he catches every drop. His own cock twitches again before his second orgasm hits.

When it's all said and done with, Copia sits in your lap, cock still inside him until you soften and slip free. His thighs are shaking and your large hands run soothingly across the plush skin in an attempt to relax him.

The front of your vestments are coated in cum, but honestly you could care less. Copia seems more relaxed now and thats all that matters.

You wrap your arms around him, placing a kiss on the crown or his head. "Such a good boy for me."

[gaasaku-fanfests]

2024 Interest Check for GaaSaku Event

Hi.😋😎😍😘💕💓💗💖

PLEASE READ THIS POST CAREFULLY.

(Sorry for the length. And please read the whole thing before filling out the interest check.)

I'm so excited to announce that the 2024 GaaSaku Event is definitely going to happen. Yay!🎉Also, I'm doing an interest check for this year. Here it is. 😎

But first:

I went through several different ideas, including a Big Bang but the BB was just like the 2019 GaaSaku event with extra steps (which I'm not opposed to but just felt isn't right, right now let me know if you disagree).

I've chosen: Bingo Event. Fandom Bingo Event to be all official-like.

I've seen a few Fandom Bingo events and I'm thinking it'll be good for GaaSaku to sink its teeth into this style too. If you have reservations, feel free to voice them on the interest check, here.😎

Description [to prevent confusion]:

Bingo: Fandom Bingo (a more specific descriptor) is a bingo event where you receive a 5x5 card with prompts. The goal is to accommodate as many prompts as possible, in a diagonal, vertical, or horizontal line. There's an "I won" kind of like bragging rights but there's also no pressure to do all that.

Timeline Time:

Due to the fact that every time I ask what month everyone wants it in, SEPTEMBER always wins, I'm giving in and just making it permanent. So, barring any crazy interference, SEPTEMBER is from now on the annual month of GaaSaku shenanigans.🎉

For this event:

I have thought for both the ideas of 1) me providing prompts for each participant (which is the most popular bingo on fandom I've seen) or 2) everyone to provide a prompt or two (as many as they like) and I'd collate them and assign them to people. I'm leaving it up to y'all to choose which one.

(More information on the interest check, so don't forget to look at it.)

READ AND FILL OUT THE INTEREST CHECK FORM PLEASE. That would be so helpful and I'd love you forever.😘

Anyway.

Also:

The interest check will only be up for a few weeks.

🔹If it ends up that I'll be doing the prompts, then I'll have them ready by July 1st. 🔹If it'll be a combined collaboration, I'll do a spreadsheet for people to fill out which will go up when the interest check finishes, to be filled out before July 1st - but it'll likely go into July. We'll see.

Regardless of which is chosen, all of July and August will be the time for writing and drawing, creating those amazing pieces I know this community will provide. I can't wait to see them.💕💕

Lastly:

Don't hesitate to contact me at gaasaku-fanfests or mika080 with any questions. Message is preferred but inbox if you like. And spread the GaaSaku love.😋😎😍😘💕💓💗💖

[orionsstory]

that kind of devotion | anarcia (7)

yayy chapter seven is here :) as always, don't forget to check it out on ao3 !! and leave a comment if you liked it teehee

---

For the next two weeks, Marcia found herself texting Lotus every waking moment. During breaks, during dinner, any free time she had was spent laughing at her jokes or smiling at a picture she sent. She got to find out she loved ducks (through the several pictures she sent of the ones at the nearby park- Marcia didn't mind though) to her favorite song (Boss Bitch by Doja Cat, a song Marcia had found herself listening to nonstop lately). If she was lucky, Lotus would even call her after her patrol, and the two would talk for hours. They mostly talked about their day and the investigation, but sometimes Marcia would slip in a story about her growing up, or Lotus would tell her a story about Sasha. The two had grown much closer in the past two weeks, getting along like a house on fire.

Even now, she was sitting on the couch texting Lotus. She giggled at a text the other girl had sent before she was drawn out of her thoughts by someone nudging her leg. "I need to sit down too, you know." Luxx rolled her eyes as she sat down, handing Marcia her food. "Put your phone down and eat, you've been glued to that thing lately. It's your one day off and you've ignored me the whole morning!"

Marcia takes the food from her, "I'm sorry! It's just so...exciting! We've pretty much gone from talking a few times a month to every day, it's hard not to be so engrossed."

"Aww, she's down bad." Luxx teased her.

"No, I'm not down bad. I'm a lover."

"Marsh, that's the same thing."

"It's totally not! Well...maybe a little. Whatever..." She flushed in embarrassment, rolling her eyes. Luxx chuckled at her,  "Isn't that sweet, you know I haven't seen you this excited over a girl since that one in college...what was her name again?" Marcia cringed at the memory, she had to admit she may have the tendency to fall for people quite easily, but Lotus wasn't the same.

"That's not the same thing. Lotus is different."

Luxx raised her eyebrow, so she continued, "She shows genuine interest in me. She cares about my theatre stuff and how my day is. She texts me pictures of cute dogs she sees because she knows I'll love them. She's...thoughtful. Also, she didn't forget my name after one date, so she's already leagues ahead of Caitlin."

Luxx laughed, "Oh my god, I forgot about that! What did she call you again? Maria?"

"Miriam. She said she knew it was some old lady's name."

"Oh my god, she was awful. I'm so glad that lasted like, two weeks."

"You and me both. Anyways, what were you thinking of doing?"

"Well, since we're all getting together after your show tomorrow, I figured we could just lie low today. We could go to that coffee shop you like and people-watch."

Marcia was sold. "You know me so well, Luxx."

"Of course I do. We've been friends for like 10 years, it'd be sad if I didn't. Now let's go, I want to get a good spot before it gets busy."

-

They arrived at the small shop, setting their items down on the counter facing the biggest window. Marcia took a seat, taking out her drawing supplies as Luxx went to grab their drinks. It had been a while since they had been able to do this- they used to do it all the time in college, watching the people pass by and wonder about their lives while they worked on essays or assignments. They would wonder about their own lives, and what the future would be like. Marcia likes to think her younger self would be proud of where she is now. It makes her smile.

"One tea with honey for you...and an espresso for me!" Luxx hums as she sits the drinks down, sliding onto the seat beside Marcia. She brings out her own drawing materials, peering out the window.

"I missed this. Feels like it's been forever since we've done this."

"I know, it feels like we barely have time anymore. I guess that's what it means to be an adult."

Luxx nodded, her pencil sketching across the page. "Such is capitalism. Ugh, I'm so antsy to get this collection done. We're almost ready to go into production, so my stress is mostly over."

"Oh, I'm excited to see the collection! You're taking me to see the show, right?"

"Who else is going to be my plus one?" She laughs, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh yeah, that's good. Fuck, I've missed good coffee. The office coffee is so shitty, Marsh. Oh my god, it's horrible."

Marcia smiled, opening her own sketchbook as she began sketching some of the people outside. "For a luxury brand, you would think they could afford a better coffee machine." She laughed, scribbling in a woman's dark coat. "Maybe they'll get you a new one for Christmas."

Luxx rolled her eyes, "Please, don't give me hope. Irene keeps saying she's going to fix it and improve it herself but we've been so swamped she hasn't had time yet." She looked up for her next target before selecting a man with a dog. "Look at that dog- isn't it cute? Ugh, I wish I was better at animals. It looks like a rat."

Marcia leaned over to look at the sketch, rolling her eyes. "It looks great, you're being dramatic. That is a cute dog though, what a baby." She cooed, snapping a picture of it before she sent it to Lotus. "How is the collection going anyway? Weren't you guys almost done like, a month ago?"

"Well, we were going through final revisions, but they decided to scrap some of the looks so we had to come up with some new ones. I'm hoping this will be the final round though. I've got some of the early concepts for designs in here though." She answers, flipping through her sketchbook to show Marcia some of the designs. 

She always admired the other girls' aesthetic, Luxx's usual grungy and dark designs had seemed to translate perfectly to spring fashion. Desaturated colors and skirts with purposeful rips and tears turned a skirt into the shape of a flower, an impressive feat. Marcia had seen Luxx make gorgeous designs that weren't her aesthetic, but these ones were special. She always loved it when Luxx could show her passion through her designs.

"Dark forest...what a theme, right?" She softly chuckles, flipping back to the sketch she was working on. "I like it though. I think it'll be our best collection yet."

Marcia proudly smiles, returning to her own sketch of some scenery. They sketched in comfortable silence for some time, Marcia having stopped sketching the people outside and started sketching Lotus. She didn't mean to, it was just sort of a habit at this point.

"That's really good, is that Lotus?" Luxx asks, leaning over. Marcia nods, her face tinged red. "Is she coming to your performance tomorrow?"

"No, but she's coming for my first night as Elle. I'm really excited, I hope she'll like my performance- I've been working so hard on it. God, I hope it goes well, what if I choke?"

"You won't choke. You were like, born for this. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiles at her, "Thanks, Luxx."

-

Luxx volunteered for dinner duty that night, allowing Marcia a moment to herself. To debrief, to prepare herself for tomorrow. She felt the nerves creeping up, like they did for every show she had done. She had to remind herself that it was going to go well, that she was going to do well. She focused on the warm water of the shower that was beginning to turn cold- maybe she had been in there longer than she thought.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a soft pink towel before beginning to dry herself off. It was nice, and for a moment she felt calm as she blow-dried her hair, the muffled music of Ariana Grande playing in the background. 7 rings was interrupted by the ringing of her phone, Marcia clicked off the hair dryer as she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, doll." Lotus' voice came from the other end. "Are you able to talk?"

Marcia hummed, "For a little bit- Luxx will kill me if I miss dinner." She wrapped her soft pink robe around her as she left the bathroom and entered her bedroom across the hall. "I thought you're usually on patrol around this time of day?"

"I am, but it's always a slow start. Thought I'd talk to you until I get a call."

She softly smiled, "Well, I won't complain about that. How's your day been?"

"Pretty standard. I'm hanging out with my coworker soon, but other than that nothing of note. But enough about me- you're gonna be on Broadway tomorrow! How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Excited. I can't tell- I think it's both." She chuckled, "I know I'll probably do well, but it's just those pre-show nerves, you know?"

"Nah, I know you're gonna crush it."

"But how do you know? What if I...I don't know, trip and break my arm or something."

"I think you'd still perform, even if you had to be in a cast. Don't worry. Besides, isn't the saying break a leg?"

Marcia softly sighed, a smile creeping onto her face as she rummaged through her dresser for her pajamas. "Yeah, it is...and you're probably right. I'm way too excited about this. I just can't believe it's finally happening!"

She heard a faint buzzing on the other line, vaguely recognizing it as the sound of a call.

"Do you have to go?"

Lotus sighed, "Yeah. I do. I'm sorry. Hey- break a leg tomorrow. You're gonna kill it."

Marcia smiled. "Thanks, I will."

She heard Lotus laugh, she could practically see the other girls smile in her head.

"Atta girl."

-

The next morning was a blur. She remembered waking up to a 'break a leg ;)' text from Lotus and eating breakfast with Luxx, but time seemed to fly by after that. Her usual subway ride seemed to take five minutes, and their rehearsal that morning felt like it had happened in a second.

Now, she was in the dressing room with her castmates, all giddy and excited for the show. She applied the last of her blush and made sure her costume was perfect, waiting in the wings with the rest of the ensemble for the first number to start. Many were excitedly whispering to each other, the air in the theatre felt electric.

"Who's here for you tonight, Marcia?" One of her castmates and friends, Plasma, asked her.

"My friends and one of my cousins- we're going out afterward. What about you?"

"Some of my friends- and my mom, she flew in from Texas to be here. I can't believe it's opening night!" She excitedly shook Marcia's arm, causing her to smile.

"I know. Oh! There's the house lights, we're going!" She excitedly whispered, taking her place in preparation. She felt the anxiety returning to her chest, taking a deep breath as the curtains drew open.

They began their first number, which went as perfectly as it could. Marcia hit all the right steps, all the right notes, and stayed in character the entire time. She felt the anxiety in her chest dissipate after the first number, it turning into a feeling of joy. She felt good going into the second number, which turned into feeling great for the entire first act. During intermission, she and Plasma celebrated their success, which meant excitedly talking about the show while they made costume and makeup adjustments for the second act.

The second act also went spectacularly. She could tell the entire cast was bringing their all, and the audience could too. Every time the audience laughed or cheered her drive became stronger, causing her to perform even better. By the time curtain call came, she was exhausted- but proud. As she bowed with the rest of the ensemble, she could hear Luxx's cheers above the rest. She couldn't see her group because of the house lights, but that was enough to put a smile on her face. 

She's able to get out of her costume and makeup fairly quickly, only delayed by her and Plasma geeking out about the show- releasing the remainder of the energy they had for the night. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, signing some things for a few fans at the stage door before spotting her friends.

"MARSHALL!" Luxx squealed, tightly hugging the other girl. Marcia giggled as her friends swarmed her, excitement filling the air. Jan raved on and on about her vocals and dance moves, her cousin was a fellow theatre nerd and they often spent their childhood watching different musicals (and poorly reenacting them). Robin, although less experienced in the theatre world, complimented her performance and gave her a bouquet- which Amethyst almost crushed as she pulled the group in to take a photo.

Marcia feels elated as the group returns to her apartment, giving her time to change into a sparkly mini-dress. She quickly shot a text to Lotus before coming back out, rejoining the girls who had also changed. They took a quick shot of some tequila they had lying around the house before heading to the nearest gay bar.

-

"My girlfriend said she and her friend are a few minutes away," Robin yelled above the noise, trying to keep Amethyst from getting swallowed up by the crowd. "I'm making them get us drinks- what does everyone want?"

The girls shouted out their various drink orders to Robin, drowned out by the club's music. The lights strobed and Marcia could feel her body vibrating from the bass. She danced with Luxx and Amethyst, letting herself go and focusing on having fun- she deserved it, after all. She felt her legs growing sore, but it didn't bother her. She would regret it in the morning, however it wasn't anything she couldn't deal with.

They only stopped dancing when Robin squealed, throwing herself into the arms of a girl who had just walked up. "That's Aura," Amethyst shouted so they could hear, the other girls nodding along. "Who's that beside her?" Marcia asked, referring to the girl who had appeared beside Aura.

She was wearing a short red dress and a leather jacket, and her long light-colored hair was straight and worn down, with some bobby pins to keep her bangs back. She looked like she had some darker streaks in her hair, but she couldn't be too sure with the blaring club lights. From what Marcia could see, she had a pretty athletic build and a scar over her left eye. She felt like she knew the girl, but she couldn't place her finger on why.

"I guess her friend," Amethyst whispered in her ear, "She's hot, right? Is she glaring at us though?" Marcia turned her attention back to the other woman, Amethyst was right- she did seem to be glaring, but she couldn't even clearly see the girl because of the flashing lights.

"Can't tell."

Aura and Robin finally broke apart, allowing Aura to shift her attention to the other girl.

"Oh! This is one of my friends, Anetra!" The other girl nodded her head in greeting. "She doesn't bite, she just has chronic RBF." Aura laughed, Anetra rolled her eyes and playfully elbowed her. Amethyst introduced herself first before Marcia did- she noticed the girl's eyes widen a bit before returning to normal. That was strange, did she recognize her too?

She was going to talk to her more when Aura pulled her away to go get the group's drinks, putting a pin in her plan. That was fine, she'd just talk to her when she returned. However, Anetra didn't return. Aura came back alone, balancing the drinks in her arms.

"Where'd Anetra go?" Luxx asked, taking her drink from Aura.

"She got a call while we were waiting at the bar- came back and said there was an emergency and dashed out. She seemed stressed about it."

"I hope she's okay..." Marcia worried, "Poor girl just got here."

"I'll check up on her later, she's a tough cookie so I'm sure she'll be fine."

That was the last they talked about it, the rest of the night was a blur as they danced and drank until their feet hurt. Marcia tried to tone it down so she wouldn't feel as miserable tomorrow, which worked to some degree. She and Luxx left around 1 am, both deciding to be somewhat responsible. She quickly changed into her pajamas, almost passing out the instant she hit the bed. She shot off a goodnight text to Lotus, who still hadn't answered her last message, which was odd. She worried something may have happened, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind- she was just paranoid.

[donnerpartyofone]

In 10+ years of active job hunting, all of the interviews I have had are:

I applied for an assistant role at this hip-sounding consultancy and I got through several rounds of scrutiny with an HR person who seemed convinced I would get the job. Finally I booked an interview with the actual boss, and the second it started everything fell apart. I had an initial technical problem with the video call and that didn't look good, but there was already a bigger issue: She immediately started shouting at me for wasting her time because I had made a mildly self-deprecating joke to the HR person (it had to do with my work with horror media which is not to everyone's taste). She was yelling and yelling about how you NEVER, EVER SAY ANYTHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOURSELF EVER, WHY WOULD YOU EVER, EVER SAY ANYTHING CRITICAL ABOUT YOURSELF EVER. Then she sort of parlayed that into interrogating me about my goals in life, with the implication that I must not have any. It was apparent to me that she knew before we even started that she was never going to hire me because she felt that I had shown weakness to the enemy basically, and I can only assume she booked the interview because she enjoys torturing vulnerable strangers, but it was very shocking in any case.

I applied to be a production coordinator at this startup founded by one of these guys with more money than things to do. They were supposed to make, like...inventions? This is a somewhat aspirational description: They had an early 3D printer and the idea was that citizens would send in their invention ideas and the company would print and sell them. They'd had moderate success with kind of a modular power strip, and I guess they just assumed ideas like that would keep coming. The interview lasted 4 or 5 hours. I was sent into a little windowless room where I was interviewed by one person at a time for a very long time. The first guy was this zany douchebag who bombarded me with problems to solve: WHAT IF A GUY CALLS AND SAYS HE CAN'T SEND HIS INVENTION BECAUSE DOESN'T HAVE A SCANNER? WELL WHAT IF HE DOESN'T HAVE A CAMERA? WELL WHAT IF HE HAS NO COMPUTER? WELL WHAT IF THERE'S NO LIBRARY NEAR HIM? WELL WHAT IF THERE'S NO POST OFFICE? WELL WHAT IF HE CAN'T WRITE OR DRAW? WELL WHAT IF HE CAN'T DESCRIBE IT? COME ON! YOU GOTTA THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX YOU GOTTA THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX YOU GOTTA THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!!! The second guy was a sad sack manager who was subtly venting about how his staff didn't like him. The third guy was this chick who was openly throwing mad shade on the second guy, while also insulting me to my face. I forget who even else there was. It was like a police interrogation, by the fourth hour I didn't even know what I was saying anymore. I'm sure I would have confessed to murder. A month or two later I noticed I had all these voicemails my shitty phone never surfaced from the company trying desperately to hire me, but it was sort of a dodged bullet because they folded shortly after that.

I got a call back for an archivist position at a radio station. I only realized after the fact that due to being a humongous dumbass, my cover letter addressed the wrong company--a more popular station with a similar acronym--but I actually don't think that was the problem. The conversation was pleasant but I didn't have the exact technical abilities they wanted; they would have been willing to train me if they couldn't find anyone else, but that's not what happened.

At this point I'm really freaking out. I don't have the resources to go back to school or whatever and I'm not convinced that getting a degree or certification in a useful trade would really allow me to beat other candidates who are younger, more experienced, and with a more normal work/education history. Actually I DID get a certification in what I thought would be a useful trade before I even quit my old job to avoid drinking myself to death, but I've never gotten a call back for any relevant jobs--surely because I don't have any practical experience, it's all classroom shit and I'm not exactly internship material. Right when I quit my job I saw a career counselor, and I also worked with this corporate climber ex-colleague who gave me a lot of resume and cover letter advice, but none of that has made a difference. Recently a friend got my resume to his recruiter, he blew all this smoke up my ass about how great my resume is and how if I don't hear from the recruiter it's because she's a flake, and I really had to hold my temper because there is such abundant evidence that the problem is ME. I mean only psychos even call me back and most of them weren't interested anyway. I think unemployment is not available to me since I wasn't laid off or fired. I don't really know how temp agencies work, and I seem to have a lot of inconvenient handicaps, like I cannot do basic math, it seems pretty pathological. I don't really know how anything works, obviously.

I'm in this position because I thought preserving my mental health was more important than my job, and I foolishly assumed "something would work out" even though I had been looking for a new job almost that whole time. Also I followed a lot of well-meaning and extremely bad advice about "following my dreams" or whatever, which I actually had some unique and amazing opportunities to do--I mean if I didn't take them then I would still be wondering what-if--but I should have known never to take a chance on myself like that. I could, if I really wanted to, blame my family for not teaching me anything about real life, but the truth is that following dreams has paid off big time for every single person in our orbit except for me, so it's hard to fault people for just repeating what is personally true for them. I mean it's frustrating when someone asks you why you're looking for a job when you should just go get a book deal instead (!), but just because we're from the same family doesn't mean we're from the same planet. It's nobody's fault for assuming good things about me (although it does make me mad that they still won't face reality and everyone just thinks I'm "not trying"). But now I'm in danger and it's been coming for years, for most of my life in a way, and I don't know what to do. I apply for everything, but I look overqualified for the small things I might actually be able to do, and the jobs I do look qualified for won't give me a second look because I'm not THAT qualified really (and/or the market is flooded with people like me). I feel like I've hit up all the professional help I can find. Is there like...some sort of, I don't know what, psychologist that specializes in telling you how to get a job? I just don't know. HMU if you are able to explain to me what a job is and how to get one.

(That's mostly a rhetorical question unless you literally have specialized insider knowledge or your NYC-based boss is hiring or something. Please bear in mind that I am a middle-aged adult and I know how e.g. LinkedIn works. I have been using job boards extensively and elaborately for more than 15 years. As per my thesis, I have consulted many professional experts already. Please don't do the equivalent of reading someone's post wondering about something, and sending them a Wikipedia link to the topic like they've never heard of that before. Just please don't. I shouldn't have to say this but I know that I do.)

[kira-nerys-rocks]

5, 10, 14, 24 (Elizabeth Weir for any of the insert character ones :) )

Thank you so much for this Elizabeth centered ask <3

5 Out of all your fanworks that include Elizabeth, which is your favourite?

Oh, this is a tough one since I have made so many and quite a few that I really love! And I'm really bad at picking favourites. I think I'll just go with this one though, because I just touched it up a bit and it definitely is one of my favorite fanarts with Elizabeth and I'll get it signed by Torri and Rachel at Basingstoke next month.

Of my fics... I think I might go with this Cornweir fic because I love how flirty she is here xD

10 What's your favourite piece of fanart for Elizabeth?

Oh, again tough, there's so much great fanart out there! You make great fanart and so do @xenantis and @salchat just to name a few...

I think one of my favorites is this one, which I've had as a background on several phones, unfortunately I have no idea who made it, I downloaded it ages ago (please let me know if you know who made so I can give proper credit)

14 Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

Hm. Not really... I think it was a tiny bit unexpected for me to write for a hetero ship when I wrote my first msr fanfic but I wouldn't say that I was sure I wouldn't ever write a hetero ship xD

24 What's your favourite thing about Elizabeth?

Okay, also here, where do I start and where do I stop? I just love her so much for so many reasons and im still sure I'll forget to list some of them♥️ also thanks for letting me talk about one of my favorite characters ever!

I love how skilled she is when it comes both to diplomacy and leadership qualities. She's literally so badass when she walks into negotiations with the Genii alone, unarmed, blindfolded and handcuffed and they're still scared of her because their intimidation tactis don't work the way they want them to because she's just that good? Queen. Literally. I also love it when she worries about the teams when they're late on their reports and she just knows them so well that she prepares rescue missions even when she has no confirmation yet. I also love it when she is sassy and defends both her own decisions or those of her subordinates. I also love it that she's a hugger and a dog person! There's just so much that I love about her. Have I mentioned that I love her? No?

Fandom Asks

[evilkaeya]

very sorry if this bothered you in any way but hello hello

i just need some help in getting out of an ongoing art block for several months.

if you're willing to share, what flowers do you consider most suitable for your favorite bsd characters?

there's no restrictions, up to personal preference. it can be based on flower symbolism, aesthetic, your own scenarios, or based on said character's backstory.

could you explain if it's a little complicated? so i can draw with a better guideline rather than going on pure imagination.

if i manage to post it, i'll be sure to give credit. if you're up to it.

anyway, if you liked this idea and you're comfortable with it, thank you so much. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this ask, no harm done.

have a nice day— or night? whenever you see this honestly. take care!

hi hello I'm sorry I just saw this 😭

I actually don't have many bsd characters I associate with particular flowers but I am obsessed with hanakotoba so here we go!!

Chuuya: You guessed it, camellia. It's not my fault he's always surrounded in camellias in official arts + the Japanese meaning of the flower, 'noble death' really suits him, given his personality. I also associate him with red daisies (I just feel like it) and freesia (flower language: trust and friendship!)

Dazai: Oh boy I'm about to get very annoying so bear with me. I associate Dazai with multiple flowers. First, sunflowers! I don't know if this is part of flower language but you know how sunflowers are always following the sun right? Constant inclination towards the light, just like current Dazai. Yes, he has his ups and downs, and yes, he's unsure of his own actions sometimes, but he'll never turn away from the light Odasaku pointed him towards. That's why I think sunflowers suit him. ADA Dazai is VERY dear to me.

I also associate him with daffodils for its flower meaning, rebirth and new beginnings. PM Dazai is sakura to me because of its contradictory meanings (life and death, beauty and violence).

Kunikida: Gladiolus! Because it means strength of character and moral integrity. Kunikida is also one of the few bsd characters with the strongest characteristics, in my opinion.

Kenji: Sunflower again, simply because it suits him (both flower language and aesthetic. I've seen so many art of Kenji with sunflowers and they make me so happy)

Atsushi and Kyouka: I associate both of them with daffodils, again, for it's flower meaning. Atsushi specifically with white lilies too, just because they match his aesthetic.

Fyodor: Black lilies. Because they mean beauty, mystery and death. Also the aesthetics suit him.

Yosano: Iris! They symbolize elegance, strength and admiration in Japanese and I've seen an art of Yosano standing in an iris field once and it stuck with me ever since.

Soukoku: I associate these bitches with too many flowers but I'll give you the ones I think of the most after the recent events. Manjushage or spider lilies, because they mean 'final goodbye' and asters because they mean 'I won't forget you' :)

That's all! Thank you for the ask, I loved answering this <3 I hope this helps you get rid of your arts block, even if it's just a bit.

[nasuversekinkmeme]

Weekly Roundups: Prompts

FSN

Let this be the one and only prompt I will ever send to this blog. Saber with a top hat a mustache and a fat fucking blunt. A cigarette is also acceptable.

FATE/EXTRA

smut, You know that one scene in Fate/Extra where Rani has sex with your servant? Yeah I want Hakunon to be invited in. Whether she's an active participant or if she just gives a thumb up and leave is up to you. (Archer route preferred!)

FSR

One of the remaining FSR Servants (or even characters from FSR who have the potential to become Servants due to being a historical figure themselves [like Zheng Chenggong]) being summoned to Chaldea. Honestly free for all on what exactly happens in the fill, just something that starts with this.

Anything with Zheng Chenggong and FSR Saber meeting up in Chaldea (with both as Servants even if the former hasn't actually been made one yet in Fate) tbh.

FGO

smut, BB Dubai’s henchmen get into a competition with Constantine’s henchmen. Loser gets a one way ticket to getting fucked without mercy.

One of the events (I forget which) had Tamamo Cat take up the camera because "Trust me, you don't want to see what Ushi looks like grinning while covered from head to toe in blood, woof!" I politely disagree and would like to request an image of exactly that.

smut, fionn/group - fionn very nicely takes care of his knights' stress. exactly as it says. i want fionn being a good nice slut for his knights of fianna, because it's hard work, you know, and it's good to keep morale up, and surely they deserve a reward for all they've done, and it's definitely not just an excuse to get some contact in after traveling for months and being away from a nice warm bed with a pretty girl in it for so long. diarmuid is an obvious must, but as for the other knights, you can do whatever you want! toss in whatever headcanons you might have about 'em. i'd especially love to see goll mac morna, with his contentious relationship with fionn and how that might make any physicality between them tense.

For the body horror prompts, maybe something with vortigern or the any of the tam lin with their “true forms” so to speak turned up a few degrees?

Arjuna weight gain, please... It feels like there's only like five people in the fandom who like the idea of him soft, and I'm two of them. Any pairing except Karna is fine, art or fic fills welcome, any size is good, just make him squishy <3

ANY

smut, noncon, Kindly asking for reader insert noncon. Ideally I need to get passed around Chaldean servants like a blunt but even just a single "servant of your choice makes good use of their inhuman strength to lock a poor unsuspecting reader in place for a quick fuck" works for me.

I want blorbos and sex toys. Not necessarily using them, if you want to write me Shiki shopping for toys or draw me Arcueid holding a magic wand like a lightsaber, that works for me (though I won't say no to lemon with toys in action, haha!) Any character, any fandom, any medium.

CROSSOVER

Bill Cipher is summoned to Chaldea. Not with a humanoid body or anything, still a triangle (bonus points if he has an Extra Class like Foreigner or Watcher, Berserker would also be acceptable). He is so confused and angry about all of this. Guda keeps essentially going “I can fix him” (not romantic, just in typical Guda fashion) in spite of his obvious warning signs. His powers are severely limited except for when he uses his Noble Phantasm, and he doesn’t know what a Noble Phantasm is so he thinks he’s been weakened forever (until he figures out how to use it ala Mash did) So many of the people here don’t know who he is, so they aren’t scared of him. At least a lot of the evil Heroic Spirits want to hang out with him.

This is mostly an art prompt (but writers are always welcome!): Crossover with Final Fantasy 14, please interpret your fave servant as if they were from that game! What class would they main, what race would they be? go wildddd

[destinyc1020]

I gotta disagree, The competition for Wonka was not high at all when you factor in who the audience is (mostly kids). The only competition it has is Migration (I know you mentioned Wish, but that had an earlier release and kids aren't going to see the Color Purple and Aquaman too is a bit too mature for younger audiences) which is also doing fairly well. December is not a difficult month to succeed in at all - kids are off of school, which means that the potential for kids movies in particular to break out is sky high. Throw in Paul King and the holiday theme, and it making money shouldn't be a surprise.

Also, I just don't buy that any young actor is a significant draw without an IP. Unpopular opinion maybe, but I think Zendaya is the closest to being a legitimate draw WITHOUT an IP. We've already seen her success with Euphoria, which is an original(ish, since it was adapted but from a very unknown show) property. Things like Wonka and Uncharted are good vehicles to use as claims that actors like Timothee and Tom are box office draws, but those are characters and properties that already had fanbases.

It's interesting that Tom essentially was the first of his generation to reach that box office milestone (and tbh it was impressive, because fans and critics were against that film but it still succeeded despite that - in context that is a pretty large indicator that he marketed it so well that people came for him), but you have analysts now forgetting that accomplishment or minimizing it. The same will happen with Timmy once his movies are released and there's a gap in between his released projects, and someone else will pop up to get the hype. I feel like people just want there to be 'one' actor who is 'the' box office draw of their generation, but the truth is that there will be several, because it would be so boring with just one! I bet Paul Mescal will have a similar moment with Gladiator, which might be a similar thing with an IP getting him some good momentum. Austin I don't doubt will find the same. Hoping a POC actor gets to because it is honestly so frustrating that the leading actors right now are white for such a young generation.

But yeah this might be an unpopular opinion but it's very interesting to me how these studios and actor's agents are putting them in IP films to boost their box office cred, but put them in an original project and how much money will they bring in? It's depressing in a way bc studios are leaning away from original projects because they make less money, but original projects are so much more interesting at times. That being said, I know TDATT and TCR pulled great streaming numbers but it's hard to get a box office equivalent. That's why I'm so excited for Zendaya and I really hope Challengers does well, because that will make a really unique accomplishment that none of her peers have gotten to yet - her being a draw in both IP and original properties. I don't want to speak too soon but I really feel like especially seeing Sydney's movie having success, Challengers could be huge for its genre for Z.

Whew girl...this was a LOT!

Anyway.... I'll try not to be too lengthy in my response... But here it goes... I know it's a kid's movie, but I think we need to also realize that NOT all kid's movies do well at the box office lol. 😅 I think people forget that. Especially if it doesn't have the studio DISNEY attached to it. Let's be real. Yea, "Wish" came out earlier, but it was still out around the same time that "Wonka" came out, and also "Migration". People had OPTIONS. Parents didn't HAVE to take their children to see "Wonka". Yea, it's a kid's movie, but parents still gotta wanna be interested too lol. 😅

RE: Zendaya... Zendaya has been in IP films before (i.e. Spider-Man), but "Challengers" will be the FIRST film where she's playing a LEAD role, and the film has nothing to do with a popular IP (or sequel). So, I'm really excited about how it's going to do! 😃 I honestly think the film will do better than most people expect? Given how well Sydney and Glen's rom-com is doing, I think Zendaya's film will be a good box office draw as well. Zendaya is SUPER huge and popular. Like, I think it's good to take that into consideration as well. She's a bigger name than most of the other actors you have mentioned in your post.

Some people have films do well box-office wise simply because they're SOOOO famous and everyone loves them to death, so people will support whatever they do. There's nothing wrong with that either! I'm actually more impressed with those who can be a box office draw even despite not being hugely famous or popular, but simply because the film was a GOOD and well-made film, and people just liked the actor in the role, even if they don't really know them all that well. To me, those successes are really like, wow.... Okay... You're really doing something here.

Lastly...... Look, I know some of you all hate Timmy in here, but I don't think we need to UNDERmine the success of the "Wonka" movie y'all lol.... 😅 It's doing really well! I don't see anything wrong with that.... It was always going to be a film that came out around Christmas.🤷🏾‍♀️

[tangledupinblue8]

Tagged by the lovely @sassafras--manson and @sea-wolfe to do 15 questions and tag 15 friends. (This only took me like a month to actually do, ha).

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nah. My parents just thought Lauren was a nice, not too common name. Which is funny because I went to school with several other Laurens, and our neighbor down the street had the same first and middle name as me.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last weekend my closest friend came to visit, and I cried then out of happiness.

3. Do you have kids?

I don't and don't have plans to. It just feels like too much for me.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I currently do not play sports. I did gymnastics for like a week when I was young and maybe 8 years of dance lessons. Oh! I also did cheerleading for a couple years in elementary school(?), which if you know me at all is bizarre to think about. My constant critique was that I was too quiet. Which, yes. I have always been a mouse.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

No, definitely not. 😏

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

Their clothes. Not in a judgemental way, but I do think you can tell some things about people by what they put on their bodies. I also really enjoy complimenting people on their clothing, so I'm usually looking out for that.

7. Eye color?

Blue

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Probably happy endings. I like scary movies, but I can be particular about them, and I definitely have to be in the mood.

9. Any talents?

I had to think too long about this one. I don't know if they are talents, but I have hobbies, for sure. I draw, paint, take pictures, embroider, I'm getting very into clothing mending.

Also, I do have a miraculous talent of forgetting so much about the books I read.

10. Where were you born?

Amish country, Pennsylvania

11. Hobbies?

Oh damn. I didn't realize this was its own question. I love reading, hiking, and planting things in the yard/doing yard walks to stare at the plants.

12. Any pets?

A cat named Kubrick, a dog named Hugo, and 2 chickens (one of which is named Tortellini, and the other is sadly, unnamed)

13. Height?

5’2" (on a good day)

14. Favorite school subject?

I loved my english and art classes. College wise I really liked my random electives - Death & Dying, Religion & Sexuality, Earth Ethics (which was more in line with my major but still an elective)

15. Dream job?

Tending to a garden for no one but me. Not working and instead being able to volunteer for things I care about on my own time.

I do really enjoy my job, and I'm in the field I wanted to be in, but all work is work.

tag 15 ppl

Only if you want to! I don't know 15 people.

@bermudianabroad @takeiteasyjoan @unregisteredjetski @dreemmachine @monstafaith @windydesert @cryrabbitcry @tndrnodez @makebelievewaterbeds

[thegoldenshi-shi]

I am having an internal crisis. Outside influence is swaying me towards drawing Sides and Sunny in tuxes/suits/dresses, and I am very much itching to do so. This itch is also making me want to pull out my patterns and start making my cosplays again, one of which is a papillon inspired dress shirt and jacket. And I haven't drawn or tailored in a /hot/ minute, not to mention that my sizes have very much changed, and aren't particularly congruent enough to make a shirt, or any form of top other than a crop top, so I am FIGHTING not to do it

Also, working on cleaning my room still, stars above was it a mess, is a mess. I have however cleared out my desk area! And my computer is back to functional cause my friend is a saint and gave me his old graphics card (sly bastard, he didn't tell me that's what he was gonna do so I couldn't refuse) so now I just need to get the fans connected to the motherboard (frankencomputer isn't a joke, they were directly connected to the psu, wherein the old psu had the wires welded into the thing so I couldn't just transfer fan wire onto new psu, so fans are dead in the water as of right now. Cause new psu doesn't have the right thing, a male plug, to be able to connect them). But! It's functional again, blessed be, and so with a lot of external things factored in, including me generally keeping my room temp at almost 60°f and two external fans that I was able to clean and set up around it, me and two friends were able to play modded mc last night! Which was fun, first time playing co-op with my friends in a month.

On other news, my desk is tiny, so with computer back I physically do not have space to comfortably art, so I am gonna see about getting some stuff set up to scooch the moniter and keyboard so I can have desk space to use my pencils and sketchbooks. Largest issue with drawing Sides in a really frilly dress is my issue of not being able to draw humanoid things. I can't get proportions straight. (Damb my useless brain, not able to have images in my mind, remembered or imagined, kills my ability to art)

And work is. Fucking awful right now, actually. We have someone that has been here for almost two months, and he is a misogynistic dirtbag. Our warehouse is severely lacking in Y chromosomes, and I am unfortunately in the closet at work due to bigotry against queer identifying folk, so I count in his mind towards the *problem*, and he won't stop flirting with me. Which is gross, he's twelve years older than me, which were I older and twelve years weren't such a significant part of my lifespan I wouldn't take issue with. But I worked retail and fastfood in places that made me feel as if I was part of the product to be sold, so people older than me, especially men, flirting with me is a really yucky feeling. Not to mention there is this thing about him, I don't entirely know what, that has me feeling an awful mix of scared and angry about him? There's just something off about him, and maybe its that he insists on trying to talk to me alone, or maybe it's that I have disliked him from when he first started flirting with me, or maybe its him triggering ma and SV's gaydars, but whatever it is is gross and I don't like it. Oh, and apparently he drives the forklift smelling like alcohol, which I wouldn't know because I try to keep one me-height away from him at all times, at least.

Happier note, with summer coming around, I will get to enjoy having ladybugs randomly cropping up in my room and eating wasps again. Which was funny as all hell to discover the first time, cause I always forget they're carnivorous and predatory, as well at that thick exoskeleton and forewings they have meaning that actually stinging them is damn near impossible for the wasp

~Smooch

Hello again Smooch~ The urge to draw robots in clothes happens to every mecha artist at some point I think… And I don't care HOW good you think you are at art, trying to slap Fortress Maximus in an evening gown or Deathsaurus in a three-piece suit is going to break your brain. I can't help you with proportions I'm afraid, since that's just something you have to learn over time. (As they say: repetition is the mother of mastery). But, I can say that dresses are easier to draw on robots than suits. If you want to draw suits, brace yourself to give them weird cutouts and things to make room for kibble. Examples A and B (with your preferred boys hehe)

Since you can sew cosplays though, that wouldn't be an issue for you I'm sure. I'm trying to fight the urge to sew unnecessarily as well. I too am an odd size so I'm always having to get my mom to tailor and/or make me clothes. I'll have to send you some pictures of my finished pieces on discord sometime~

It's good that you were able to play with your friends, a functional computer is a blessing. 60 degree bedroom is less of a good thing, but I guess it's the price you have to pay for the computer blessing right now hehe. I'm not ashamed to say that everything you listed about your computer woes flew completely over my tech-retarded head, but it sounds like you've gone through a lot to fix your problems. I wish it was as easy as replacing parts to fix your work-place issues. If you're lucky, your problem dude will get fired for being intoxicated at work or for being a butt. Me wishing won't fix your problem of course, but I really do hope that it gets better for you. In the meantime, enjoy your ladybugs eating wasps??? I didn't know that ladybugs could or would eat wasps, so when I read your ask I was flabbergasted. It makes sense that they can since, as you said they're carnivorous and heavily armored, but still…wasps?!?!

[koipepo]

despite you not interacting with the fandom as often, do you still like thramsay? also, loving all the all quiet on the western front stuff! havent watched it yet, but i love war history stuff

thanks! AQOTWF is amazing and i hope you'll watch it soon anon. as for your question, incoming walls of texts and rambling of different topics:

i still love thramsay deeply, but i feel more and more like a machine churning out constant stream of fanart with nothing to gain from it. In previous months no matter how well-received or "objectively" good my thramsay fanart are, i looked at them with despair the moment i finished drawing them. Not quite contempt but it's a very nauseating sense of emptiness that can last for weeks, and it feels worse especially in contrast with people's positive reception of my thramsay fanart. I also feel guilty. I desperately wanted to be only thankful because all those comments and messages i received from my fanart; they do make me very happy but that happiness is swiftly crushed by despair, every time. it makes me feel insane bc it's so paradoxical. the more i get praised for my thramsay fanart, the smaller and useless i feel.

I still want to draw them, very badly, but I know what will come after if i force myself too soon: that monstrous feeling of uselessness. That's why for now I don't want to force myself drawing them too soon, in fear that i will end up resenting them for real.

this isn't caused by dark fiction's fatigue btw-i still fantasize about ramsay lovingly carving his mark on theon for days lol but the moment i try putting the fantasy out on paper, i can't forget about myself like i used to automatically do in happier times. instead i become too aware and feel sickened by my hand, my eyes, and everything about me. i still feel that way in some degree when drawing my OCs and the recent AQOTWF fanart, but it's not as severe as with thramsay because of their much-lower engagement.

i know very well that this is because of crumbling mental health. monetary issue, grief, loss of close friendships, inability to emotionally connect to anyone, anxiety... all everyday man/woman has to go through and of which cannot easily be fixed.

right now it's more soothing thinking about outright depressing and death-filled media like AQOTWF because well, i think about death all the time. I feel the world is moving on from pandemic and its victims, including my loved ones, and everybody is trying to bury their memories in order for productivity, for the world to turn again. Like the dead ones are just heavy cuffs to be shed off. i think this is also why drawing thramsay feels harder because it feels like i'm hiding my grief to play my part as fanart-churning machine.

My experience is very different from what's portrayed in AQOTWF and of course much less tragic but the movie heavily acknowledges how insignificant and tragic death actually is, and in turn it acknowledges my loss and my experience of trying to come on terms with it.

i'll stop rambling now. if you read until this part, kudos- thank you for your time and effort! i do still have hope to be able to draw thramsay again and be genuinely happy for it someday. nothing is permanent. wish me luck anon :)

[crystalelemental]

Correct me if I'm wrong because I've been forgetting things a lot lately, but...usually, event rerun missions give you gems but with a reduced amount and without the BP coins, right? So, why does the New Year 2023 event rerun give event scout tickets now? We can only get gems from completing the Battle Challenges with (and without) the required criteria and for completing a certain amount of missions?

And Battle Villa is going to be permanent next month, which means no more gems from it anymore?

Reddit has been 60% posts about this exact thing since yesterday. The short is, we don't really know why they made this adjustment, but it's only for the rerun of the seasonal event, not the upcoming VA rerun. It is currently a complete mystery as to why. At a guess, it's the usual gacha methodology of slowly rolling back rewards. One very optimistic soul thinks it might be heralding the inclusion of older seasonal pairs in the ticket scout, but (1) where would the cutoff for that be, and (2) some old seasonals still kick ass while some new seasonals suck, so this isn't really a cohesive option, especially with the whole paid only Mix Red scout going on where you can pity anyone ever. That's supposed to be a big draw; would take it away if you could ticket scout them. So in short...yes it's like that, no it's not normal, but it might be how all seasonal reruns are from here on. I'd be less bothered if they reran all past seasonal events and did something like this because it'd be a net increase in reward without seriously skewing gem counts, but no dice.

The Villa situation is nebulous, but yes it is permanent next month, which I'm 100% certain means its rewards will no longer be available. It is a point of very severe contention in my mind, because they're replacing what Villa had with this new mode, which creates two very major problems. First, the new mode must, by necessity, include the same kind of rewards as Villa. What I mean is, Villa was the only remaining place to get Lucky Scrolls. Blissful Bonanza was as good as dead for four months, we can't count on that. It's also the only place to get 2* cookies. For most, this doesn't matter, but it does for Crunchy with the Defense Crush 2, Fast-Track 2, etc options. It's also the only meaningful way to get Lessen Confusion 9 for base Iris, which yes is important. We can't just replace all cookie output with Gauntlet; those options wouldn't exist. Well. Okay, Defense Crush would, it's in the deluxe 1* cookie bin. But you get the idea. This means all rewards must map perfectly, or we're losing significant tools, especially if the lucky scrolls go away. New players would effectively have no means of acquiring lucky skills anymore. Regardless, I'm willing to bet it's less gems in total for the event.

The second, potentially worse aspect, is that this game operates on point scores, which are augmented by how many of a particular role you bring, and EX roles count. Their stingy-ass bullshit decision to not give EX roles to any older pairs except a handful of Master Fairs suddenly makes sense, as it means this mode has an element of pay to win. The game's generally been good about "all meaningful rewards are easily obtained, but if you want to play rank pay up," but this is becoming more and more frequent, to the detriment of the overall experience. Like sure, great, glad we can't give Drasna an EX role, but we can let Ryuki have one. Bullshit.

[tophat-cy]

It's that time of the year again, huh?

Hello everyone! Here is TopHat_Cy with probably the last Tumblr post of this year. Since 2023 is coming to a close, I'll just put down a little summary of the experiences I had this year. Let's get started ^v^ ✨💗!

⚠️CW/TW since there may possibly be some ranting and/or venting at some points⚠️

To be honest here, 2023 was pretty rough, and I'm not talking about that I had the baccalaureate in June, oh no. I was honestly waiting for that time so I can just do myself after that, right after I supported 4 years in that hellpit people called it high-school (or pedagogic college...whatever 🙄), just to get like over 3 months later on a worse hellpit called college, where all my personal issues has awakened...and felt horrible and lonelier like I've never been.

Despite being in overall horrible, high-school was great because mostly because I wasn't feeling the loneliness and self misery I feel now. Now that I'm at college I get almost hit daily by the fact that 1) I'm lonely and I'll always remain lonely (since who tf wants a little antisocial freak who literally draws all day lmao??) 2) I'm worthless, mostly because my French skills (at least) suck, and a good amount of my marks suck as well in comparison with other students (and honestly I wouldn't be bothered that much about this fact if it wasn't for my mom who haves the great habit to remind me by times to make sure I take big marks only to get the scholarship, hahahaha shut up bitch), which guess what, it makes me feel ✨horrible✨, and 3) Your life is a pure lie. This is sooooooooooo great isn't it :D ??!

*sigh*

I realized within my current college experience that I'm lonely not only in society, but with my own mom. I realized I'm even more of a worst daughter than I ever thought...I realized that I'm getting more horrible as the time goes by, or at least this is how I feel. I feel like losing myself slowly, becoming into nothing but a setinent shell of the former self. With those realizations, I'm getting hit in the face once again by the most saddest fact that I've encountered so far in my life but I always tend to forget it to make myself feel better (but you know how life is...it needs to offer you some lemons in the eyes 👁️👁️)...

...the fact that my life is nothing but a pure LIE.

But hey! Can we look into the bright side of what this year offered for some hot minutes?? It's not all black and misery! I had part of wonderful and fun times with my boyfriend (we did Whiteboards and rambled about our silly stuff like two neurodivergents that we are 😁✨), I had part of several fanart moments from people, I had Art Fight (yeaaaaah, our old pal Art Fight, which kinda started to become a pain in the ass every year when I have to bring my REFs up to date for this event...mmmmmmm 😊/pure af hot sarcasm, but honestly here, do I really care :D ???), I even joined my first Original Characters Tournament, Ressurection, in which I met wonderful people which appreciate my skills and also willing to help and support. And most importantly, I had YOU! All of you! If it wasn't for you guys, I definitely wouldn't been here, sharing this thoughts with YOU. And I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart, once again ❤️!

As a mini conclusion to all of this speech, I'll admit that this year was still decent so far, with all it's ups and downs, along with the fact that I'm returning myself at being genderfluid (hence the Pic at the very beginning of the post lmao :')) )

The latest events from this year at least made me think that being feminine related makes me feel worthless about myself, and I don't want to feel like that anymore. I want to be strong at its full and I want to feel and be free with who I am. I'm not the most social person, yes. I'm far off from being a great daughter, yes of course, and I'm definitely far from being the best person out alive, or at least a great one. But at least I want to do something about it, so I can have the right to say that I tried my best for real.

So, that's it. I'm genderfluid. I go by he/they/cee from now on (although cee/ceer pronouns are most likely optional, like if you want to use them, go ahead, although I'll still be ok if you used the he/they ones, just don't refer to me with she/her or any fem aligned pronouns).

🌙⭐Plans for 2024⭐🌙

(aka my favorite part from this post so far 🤓)

Just like everyone else, I have prepared some future plans for the next year and which I'd like to share with you. Here they are!

I want to make EITHER an OCT or a world-building RP server somewhere around February-March or later (I would've done it sooner, but I have to prepare for the exam session in January). The OCT thing may take a while though since I want it to be good, so this plan might get extended for 2025 as well. As for the world-building RP thing, with some effort, it could be done next year.

Returning on developing some miscellaneous projects - those being Insanity AU and a somewhat game-like concept that my boyfriend made plans about it in this year and which I'd like to develop on. Insanity AU is a thing that I've made with dustyisegg back in 2022 but discontinued it for 9 months due to [DATA EXPUNGED] and resumed it's development, by remaking the characters and their plot entirely. (Dusty if you see this tell me if you still want to work on this, yeah yeah I'm a huge procrastinator lawl 👾✨)

JToH, JToH, JToH projects - my dear and beloved JToH...(I've been in this Fandom for almost 3 years...more than I've been in the Doll Eye one, can you believe that?). Most of those projects will consist on simply designing new towerhumans, respectively redesigning the old ones. Along with that I have a comic project which I will start making it's script soon enough, other side projects that I have in my mind...and JToHVerse, which I don't know when it's that going to be started (earliest date will apparently be around 2025, but let's see how the comic project goes 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Putting some content in Toyhouse - a thing that I should worry about eventually ;v;

GET YOUR ARTFIGHT SPIRIT BACK PSYCHE 😩!!!

The last but not the least...To start developing at least one of my original storylines FOR FUCK'S SAKE 😂😂😂!!!!!! I've been waiting for this for years already hajshshdvbssb :')) I'm not sure which of them is going to come out tho. Definitely not PK though, that one will most likely get an extend to next year.

So...I guess that's it??

I'm going to assure you with two things before I finish. First of them is that, again I think, I'm fine. I'm not upset or anything. I had hard times like everyone else (maybe) this year and I had to left it out somehow. But in rest everything is alright, so don't worry about me. I will keep existing for you and for what I love ^v^.

The second thing that I will say is about this blog. Starting with January 1st, I do not allow anyone below the age of 15 to interact. I have an age now, and at this point I want to entertain people, not to babysit them. So don't get upset if you possibly get blocked, that would be one of the reasons (I hope to remember to unblock you after you get the age hhgjgjfjf 😅)

That's it guys! If you read til here, thank you very much for the attention and time spent on reading this. Hope everyone haves a wonderful 2024 and nice days! See ya around 💗💗💗!

[elevatorladylady]

Critical Reread - ACOTAR Chapter 3

Join me on a reread of A Court of Thorns and Roses

Chapter 3

F/eyre goes to the market

“though Nesta had awoken at dawn to chop wood.”

I love this detail. Yes, she can be awful, but she's the only one that seems to help F/eyre in these first few chapters.

“I lived in such ignorance, too, until I heard the Word of the Blessed. I grew up in a village so similar to this—so bleak and grim. But not one month ago, a friend of my cousin went to the border as our offering to Prythian—and she has not been sent back. Now she dwells in riches and comfort as a High Fae’s bride, and so might you, if you were to take a moment to—”

I forget if we learn more about these weirdos. I know they come back up in ACOWAR, but before then are they actually taken and killed by fae from the Spring Court? Is Amarantha to blame for most of the harm done to humans? I guess we will see.

Also maybe this is just supposed to be some irony and foreshadowing? They are mostly right about the fae, and the actual message isn't far off from what F/eyre starts preaching about the fae down the road.

“I’d never encountered the cruel, human-looking High Fae who ruled Prythian itself,”

So do the human lands of the island just not have a name? At one point I thought the whole land mass was Prythian, but several instances in the text seem to suggest Prythian is just the fae part.

“Once, we had built them glorious, sprawling civilizations from our blood and sweat, built them temples to their feral gods.”

The fae really don't like to use magic to build things do they?

“Especially if the High Fae start turning up—or worse, one of the High Lords. They would make the martax seem like dogs.”

Why would the high fae and high lords specifically have a worse reputation than literal monsters?

Also why do we never hear about Martaxes again? If I were F/eyre I'd absolutely ask about every wild thing I'd ever heard about Faeries and magic.

“They’re dangerous,” Nesta hissed, her fingers digging into my arm as she continued to pull me from the mercenary. “Don’t go near them again.”

I think it's worth noting that as much as Nesta and Elain are frustrating in these chapters, they are also defenseless and scared of the world around them.

“He’d been my first and only lover in the two years since.”

Honestly, good for F/eyre for not letting purity culture stop her from having a good time.

“I reached into my pocket, drawing out a twenty-mark copper. Elain sucked in a breath, and I didn’t bother to look at either of my sisters as I pushed it into her palm and said, “I’ll see you at home.”

F/eyre can complain about Nesta stealing her money, but I'm not sure she can complain about how her sisters spend her money if she just gives it to them and doesn't even tell them what they are supposed to spend the money on.

“But I hadn’t scolded them for it, not when Nesta went out a second time to chop more wood without my asking.”

More wood chopping! Nesta clearly hates being told what to do, but might actually do it if she can do it on her own terms. Relatable.

Not necessarily anti F/eyre, but /// just in case.