#and I can only hope that this more regular schedule I can get my drawing hands back soon because I'm so Tired

[bartholomewillustrated]

Finally at least a little bit figured out the composition for my new phone lock screeeeeeeen though I remain... Unthrilled. With it overall. Ultimately this sketch isn't going to matter too much because I'm doing this in the same style I did the playlist picture in and everything will be colour blocked, but hhhhhhhh

[irisintheafterglow]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[liaa--qb]

"WRONG DECISION" (part ll)

[ Dark yan (male) Arya x Daenerys

WARNINGS : DUB con, possessive, Dark, Yandere (male) Arya, obsession, manipulation, fingering, oral, explicit, cheating, angst

Summary : Daenerys arrives at Winterfell to rule with John but things may not go well planned as her strange brother in law takes some special interest in her, extremely special interest.

PART 2

(Would appreciate likes and share ❤️ btw I literally fancast harry gilby too for this😅 what do you think)

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Later Dinner progressed at a leisurely pace, and, thankfully, this time, John was by Dany's side. Laughter filled the air as Tormund shared humorous stories, while John's friends regaled the gathering with tales of their adventures in different places. The atmosphere was convivial, and many of the court's wives approached Dany to engage her in conversation, much to her surprise.

It seemed that things were not as challenging as she had initially feared, and perhaps, in time, they might improve even more. Sansa, however, appeared to be missing someone, evident in her restless gaze as she scanned the room and inquiring about something. Dany took notice of her and inquired, "What's the matter, Sansa? Is there a problem?"

Sansa responded with a brief smile, "No, it's just... Arya isn't present. I know it's not your concern, Your Grace. He rarely misses dinner. As his older sister, I trust you understand..."

Dany had repeatedly asked Sansa to address her by her name or simply as a sister-in-law, without the need for the formal titles, but Sansa had always maintained her overly formal tone. Only John seemed to be comfortable enough to use Dany's regular name, a fact that left her wishing Sansa would drop the formality and greet her as her sister.

"Oh, don't worry, he may be occupied with some matters. If I come across him after dinner, I'll ask him to meet you," Dany reassured Sansa with a sweet tone, her hand resting gently on Sansa's. "And there's no need for formalities with me, as I've mentioned before. I'm going to be a part of your family after my wedding with John, so I have to care for Arya as well as for all of you," she added with a warm smile.

It was true; Arya was conspicuously absent. He rarely missed these gatherings, regardless of how busy he was during the day. In fact, for the past four days, he had always been present. Dany found herself dwelling on their session earlier in the day, and this reflection made her cheeks flush. She quickly dismissed these thoughts. How could she shift her focus from caring about Arya's safety to something... something that was quite inappropriate for her to entertain ?

Unbeknownst to her, Dany's gaze had wandered in the same direction as Jorah's, though she looked down immediately upon realizing this. With dinner drawing to a close, Jorah finally approached her. "Are you well, Khaleesi?" he inquired.

Dany managed a forced smile, making it seem like everything was fine and that she hadn't been lost in thought of her brother in law though Jorah appeared somewhat hesitant, a rare pause in his conversations with her. He continued, "I hope you are getting along with the people of the North. If there is anything or anyone bothering you, you can always confide in me. You know that, right?"

Dany chuckled lightly and replied with a soft tone, assuming Jorah had been alarmed by her earlier demeanor, "No, Ser. Everything is fine here, and I'm genuinely enjoying my time."

Then, Jorah gently requested, "Khaleesi, if you don't mind, I know I'm asking my queen, but may I have a private walk with you? We haven't had the chance to talk since we arrived here." A warm smile adorned his face.

Dany felt a pang of sadness as she realized she had to decline his offer, as she had already made plans with John for some quality time together. She couldn't let this opportunity slip by, considering John's busy schedule. She did, however, feel regretful about declining Jorah's sweet request, knowing how deeply he cared for her.

 "I apologize, Ser Jorah, but not today, as John and I need to discuss some important matters, particularly concerning the family. I really wished to accompany you, but John mentioned this is the only time he's available. I hope you understand, and I had no other choice." A hint of disappointment was evident in Jorah's eyes, so Dany hastened to add, "But we will certainly make time tomorrow. You, Missandei, and I will spend some quality time together. I promise."

"and I thought my queen wanted to spend more time with the Northerners and her new family. That's sad," At this, Arya's cold voice suddenly cut through, taking both of them by surprise. His voice laced with chilly disapproval, his long coat and a dagger at his side, hands neatly folded behind his back, and the customary straight-backed posture giving him a formidable appearance

"Prince Arya!" Dany gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance. "You nearly gave me a fright."

Arya couldn't help but wear a sly smirk as he strolled closer. "Then I'd recommend getting used to it, my queen."

Dany couldn't help but notice the lack of warmth in Jorah's expression when he looked at Arya, and she couldn't help but wonder if their previous evening activity had something to do with it.

"So where did my queen wish to spend her time?" Arya inquired, standing beside Dany and glancing between her and Jorah. Dany couldn't help but notice how even his formal tone sounded more like a directive or a mere statement.

"Ser Jorah wished to spend some time with me," Dany began, her voice carrying enthusiasm. "You know, we haven't had the chance for a proper conversation since our arrival. The journey was taxing for all of us, and a leisurely stroll around Winterfell just wasn't feasible today. It will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Is that so, Ser Jorah?" Arya quizzically turned his gaze to Jorah with a straight face. "If you desired a private tour of Winterfell, you could have taken anyone. I would have happily provided a servant for your convenience. Shall I?"

Jorah met Arya's gaze unwaveringly replying"I wished to spend some time alone with Dany, like in the old days. We have important matters to discuss, particularly regarding her safety."

Arya paused, considering this. "But I thought she had planned another training session for tomorrow, which might take a considerable amount of time. I had planned to take Sansa, Bran, and her for a family outing, as my brother suggested she desires more family time." His voice held a hint of inquiry.

In that moment, Jorah cast a defeated and resigned look towards Dany, seemingly at a loss for words. Dany, attempting to defuse the tension and find a middle ground, offered a solution, saying, "No problem, Ser Jorah can join us as well." She turned her gleaming eyes toward Arya and continued, "Believe me, Prince Arya, he is like family to me. We share an exceptionally close bond, so why not include him?"

Arya, though he gave a nod, still held a challenging expression. He appeared unhappy with the decision but refrained from voicing any opposition.

"Please forgive my curiosity, but is this related to concerns about your safety, my queen?" Arya asked with a small, bemused smirk. "I mean, if that's the case, Ser Jorah, you can freely enjoy your time. When I'm with her, you don't need to worry, especially about her safety," he asserted with a sharp tone, his gaze fixed directly upon Jorah. "Her safety and well-being are now my responsibilities."

For a moment, they locked eyes, with Jorah appearing to have some unresolved issue with Arya. Dany had grown accustomed to Jorah's behaviour after spending considerable time with him.

Dany couldn't help but feel it was unjust to regard Jorah as merely another random soldier, even though Arya's intentions might not have been harmful. Jorah's loyalty ran deep, and he deserved respect equivalent to his commitment. She believed he shouldn't be discarded repeatedly, especially when his request was so modest. "No, Arya, please pardon me, but I cannot change my decision. I made a promise to Ser Jorah," Dany replied to Arya with sweetness, hoping that he would comprehend her stance.

Just then, John and Sansa joined them, their faces reflecting curiosity. Sansa exclaimed, "Arya, you came late for dinner!"

Arya explained, "Yes, I was just finishing up some work, sister. Oh, John, I need to discuss something with you. I'm glad I found you soon enough." He nodded towards John, whose arm was draped around Dany. John and Arya decided to step aside for a private conversation, with Dany grabbing John's collar for a parting kiss. Both Dany and John exchanged happy, loving glances before parting. John kissed her hand and spoke in a low, gentle voice, "I will come." With a reassuring pat on her cheek, he finally walked away with Arya.

Jorah stood still, wearing an expression of complete boredom. Sansa chimed in, "I hope Arya didn't bother you too much. Sometimes he's quite rough with his ideas and peculiarities, but there are moments when he behaves perfectly normal." She smiled briefly while glancing at both Dany and Jorah.

Dany nodded in agreement. "Of course, I can understand. We are new here, so it's natural for us not to grasp his intentions and words at times. But I can see he's young and quite sensible. How old is he?"

Jorah finally contributed to the conversation, much to Dany's relief. She had been hoping that Arya's words hadn't affected him. "The boy is remarkably well-trained with weapons, especially for his age. I must say he possesses a sharpness in his attacks that I rarely see in warriors, especially someone as young as him."

Dany responded softly, "He's doing incredibly well, considering his age and all he has endured."

Sansa added, "Yes, I know. He was just a child when he went through so much. There were times I was scared, wondering if he was even alive."

Dany looked at Sansa with a sad but reassuring smile and said, "I can understand."

Sansa replied, "Oh 18, he's almost 18, just a few days away."

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THAT NIGHT LATER

After dinner, Dany, Ser Jorah, and Sansa engaged in a lengthy conversation, which proved to be quite enjoyable for Dany. This marked the longest conversation she had ever had with Sansa, and it was a pleasant surprise. As the night grew darker and colder with each passing breeze, the landscape outside was completely blanketed in snow.

Dany couldn't deny that it had been a good day, but she felt the need for a hot bath. Her body was tired from her activities throughout the day, including her sessions with weapons, and the biting cold outside only encouraged people to retreat to their warm chambers.

Later, Missandei accompanied Dany for her hot bath. The two of them engaged in a conversation about their day and shared information about the various members of the court and their surroundings. Missandei playfully teased Dany about John, emphasizing, "I hope you had a good time with him." Dany smiled, her face lighting up, evident even to Missandei.

Missandei remarked, "I'm happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself after the rather somber mood you've had these past few days, Your Grace." As she scrubbed Dany's arms, she continued, "Yes, you're right. Today, after a long time, I actually felt happy. Everything seemed fine. I'm realizing now that I may have been overreacting. I believe things will certainly get better in any case." Dany responded, her attention drifting as she played with the bubbles in the bathwater.

Missandei cheered her on, saying, "Yes, and there's no need to worry about John, Your Grace. You're quite fortunate; he's a truly good man. I've observed him closely. He loves you dearly and is incredibly caring." She made sure Dany was comfortable, allowing her to relax.

Dany lowered her head a bit further, resting it on the edge of the bath, and mused, "Yes, we do love each other. But I'm definitely going to tease him." She smiled mischievously while glancing at Missandei and continued, "He kept me waiting for far too long."

Missandei giggled, "Don't do that! He might become sad, thinking something like you must be asleep."

Dany nodded, "Yes, initially, he might. But then, I'll surprise him instantly. I love seeing him shocked and a little scared on such occasions, and he deserves this tonight."

Both of them laughed heartily while sharing their gossips, effectively washing away the weariness of the day.

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In the deep, enveloping darkness of the night, everyone had retired to their chambers, leaving the palace shrouded in silence. The only sounds that persisted were the thuds of the cold breezes, the gentle patter of water droplets, and the occasional crackling of the wooden logs in the fires. The palace appeared somewhat eerie in this solitude, but Dany couldn't have cared less. Her mind was elsewhere, immersed in thoughts of John and the anticipation of his arrival.

She wanted to look enchanting this night, especially for him. As she strolled through her chamber, her fingers played with one another in a state of tension.

Her gaze wandered among her finest dresses, but her eyes settled on one in particular. It was a thin, crimson gown with an impossibly deep neckline, its hem stopping just shy of her navel, adorned with delicate rose patterns. A small smile graced her lips as she selected this dress.

Nuzzling her cheek against the dress's exquisitely delicate, silky fabric, she couldn't help but ponder how destiny had never allowed her to wear it of her own accord. It was a beautiful garment, a gift given by Viserys, but she had resolved to wear it when she met her prince—the one who would save her and grant her the happiness of a loving family. Her mind drifted back to the days of her suffering and yearning, a time when she had never found the one.

But now, he is here,he stood before her, ready to take her away from her trials, the one who would love her boundlessly.

Dany positioned herself in front of the mirror, her chosen dress clinging to her body. She wondered if it would do justice to her beauty, but the thought of herself without the dress teased her even more. A devilish grin crept across her lips as she contemplated the night ahead.

Dany prepared herself with meticulous care, adjusting the neckline of her dress while gazing into the mirror. As she combed her hair, she couldn't help but think of John and how he would tenderly run his fingers through those locks, warming her with his affection. While contemplating whether to braid her hair or form it into rose-like buns, she ultimately decided to let it cascade freely.

It looked enchanting on her, yet she longed to recreate the rose bun, a style that John had often praised. Though crafting the intricate bun felt like a heavy and challenging task, she pushed herself to do it, knowing that this night was for both John and herself. She left it a bit loose so that it could be undone easily later.

Beyond the chamber's walls, heavy bricks of snow fell from the eaves to the ground outside, creating a symphony of loud, echoing cracks. To her, each sound was a harbinger of John's arrival, adding to her anticipation. She added a delicate scent from Dorne to complete her preparations.

The room was warm and inviting, a sanctuary against the biting cold outside. Despite the coziness, she found herself drawn to a blanket, wrapped around her as she sat in a chair, her thoughts filled with anticipation.

Sitting there, Dany contemplated whether she should change her cushions to something softer, but she quickly dismissed the whimsical thought with a laugh, knowing John would surely think her mad. With all her preparations nearly complete, she was now only awaiting John's arrival to finalize the evening's plans. She dashed off to lock her door securely, a crucial detail she couldn't overlook, and a part of the night she thoroughly relished.

A gift from Braavos, a bottle of special perfume was in her hand, and as she sprayed it around her room, she marveled at the captivating, almost mysterious scent it exuded. Known to leave people a bit dizzy, this fragrance was said to possess an enchanting quality, making it a favorite choice for newlyweds on their first night. As she visualized John's mockingly frustrated expression when she refused to open the door and imagined how his sweet charm would eventually win her over, she couldn't help but smile.

Seated on her bed, she waited for John, knowing that the castle gates would soon be sealed for the night. It was the hour when all work came to a halt, and if John had been anywhere outside, he would be making his way to her room. Standing beside her small window, she noticed there was no light coming from John's chambers, nor were his guards present.

It was clear he was on his way. With a sense of anticipation and excitement, she let herself lie down on her bed, closing her eyes and relishing these moments.

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Dany awoke abruptly, shaken from her brief slumber by another loud crash of ice bricks. She hadn't realized how long she had dozed off and jolted herself awake, worried that John was taking an unusually long time. Glancing around her chamber, she observed a complete absence of anything unusual, even as she peered outside her door and through the small window.

She sank back onto her bed, nervously awaiting his arrival, silently dreading the thought that he might have forgotten their meeting. She refused to entertain that idea, convinced that everything had been perfect on this day and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

However, as time continued to slip by, he still hadn't appeared. Even the wolves, she thought, would be resting now, but he was nowhere to be found. More time passed, and he still didn't come.

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Now it passed more than hour and yet he wasn’t there.

Dany lost track of time, waiting, and still, he didn't come. She accepted her fate, tears welling up in her eyes, and let herself fall into a deep sleep, seeking solace in the warmth of her blanket and silky cushions. Her weary body couldn't endure the anticipation any longer.

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Later hours a sudden, loud pounding on her door jolted her from her slumber. Dany was unaccustomed to such a clamor in the middle of the night. She wondered if John had finally arrived but soon realized that it couldn't be him. The pounding was relentless, intense, and filled with urgency.

"Who's outside?" Dany asked with a mix of curiosity and alarm. "I demand to know who's out there!"

The banging continued, growing even louder, and Dany's heart raced with each forceful thud. It felt as if the door was on the brink of breaking open. She hurried to her bed, covered herself, and grasped a small knife, ready to defend herself.

The door creaked open, and when Dany turned her eyes toward it, she found Arya standing there. At first, her racing heart slowed as she recognized him, but her shock and curiosity remained. Flustered by his unexpected presence, Dany asked with an alarmed voice, "What are you doing at this hour? You frightened me. Is there an emergency? Is everything all right?"

Arya appeared at a loss for words. "I... I, my queen, I..."

Concerned by his unusual behavior, Dany rose from her bed and approached him in much tension "What's the matter? Why are you here, and why are you acting like this? Please, say something. Your silence is making me even more anxious."

While who Arya continued to appear bewildered, gazing at her as though she were some foreign entity or a White Walker itself. Dany tried to meet his gaze, which lingered from her head to toe, particularly below her neckline, causing her cheeks to flush.

Finally, he continued in his soft, hushed voice, much to Dany's surprise. "I came to check on you. I noticed the lights were on in this room. I tried to open the door quietly, but it was locked tightly, and something seemed to be blocking it i thought," he said while glancing around at the large table Dany had placed in front of the door. "I couldn't make out the sounds clearly. At first, I attempted to knock, but when it seemed like you weren't responding, I feared you might be in danger. That's when I began banging on the door," he explained, his gaze fixed on her with intense eyes. "I apologize, my queen."

Dany finally managed to calm herself as she realized the situation. She nodded and sighed, "oh It's... it's alright. Just please don't behave like this again."

However, she noticed that Arya didn't make any move to leave her room. He stood there, gazing at her with an intense look that she couldn't help but describe as resembling 'lust' Dany followed his gaze and was shocked to see that her dress had become loose, with some threads undone during her restless sleep. It was revealing far more than it should have, and one of its straps had already slipped down her arm.

Dany felt a surge of shame as she took in her disheveled appearance and Arya's penetrating gaze. She knew she shouldn't look this disarrayed, with her hair now flowing loosely in untamed waves, her beautiful dress creased and ruffled in ways it was never intended to be. Her dress, which was already rather sheer and clingy, added to her apprehension.

She began to reach for a long woolen shawl on table, intent on covering herself and regaining some composure. But before she could do so, Arya gripped her arms firmly, preventing her from proceeding.

"Don't," he said, holding her arms gently and guiding her back toward him.

Dany's body still trembled slightly from her recent sleep, and Arya's cold touch sent shivers along her nerves. She attempted to explain, her words almost faltering, "But, Prince, it's not... It's unqueenly of me." Her sentence was cut off swiftly by Arya's response.

"No, you don't need to do that," he said, drawing her closer to him. His tone was soothing and understanding, as if he didn't fully comprehend the meaning behind his own words. "It's just me and you, and you don't need to hide anything, especially from me and I already told you this."

She sensed his fingers grazing her arms, and then she saw him whisk the shawl away, discarding it carelessly. His eyes remained locked onto hers, an unwavering connection that both unsettled and intrigued Dany. While the intensity of his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, her own expression was something of a paradox.

For a prolonged moment, he merely observed her, his eyes traversing her features. He moved from her eyes to her neck, then down to her lips, and her chest, which rose and fell rapidly with her unsteady breath. The look in his eyes was undeniably charged with desire, and Dany couldn't ignore the fact that this was indeed a lustful stare.

Despite this, she reasoned that he was a young man, and such feelings were perhaps only natural. At least, she hoped so. The gaze wasn't entirely consumed by lust and longing, as if he viewed her as some precious and delectable fruit he wished to consume or a piece of jewelry to be won.

To alleviate the mounting tension, she decided to shift the focus and inquire about John. "Did John return? Is he safe?" She endeavored to conceal her emotions behind her words.

"Why do you always have to bring him into everything? Can't you stand on your own in Winterfell?" Dany was taken aback by the sudden shift in Arya's tone, and she gazed at him, his eyes now hardened and filled with darkness. Arya's response took her aback. His tone had shifted dramatically, and it was almost accusatory. Dany stared at him, her shock palpable. "What do you mean ?" Her voice betrayed her bewilderment.

Arya's demeanor transformed once more, but not to the same extent as before. "I didn't mean it that way," he clarified. "I only wanted to reassure you that you're not tethered to John's side all the time. Winterfell is your home now, too. You can come to me anytime if you ever need assistance. Don't you trust us?"

"No, no, my prince, I trust you completely," she reassured him, her hands gently resting on Arya's arms. "I'm not dependent on John. I was simply anticipating his return, that's all," she concluded the sentence with a tinge of sadness she couldn't conceal, her gaze lowered.

"And he didn't come," Arya replied sternly.

Dany was again taken aback by his sudden intrusion into her personal affairs. "Yes," she responded softly. "I think you should return, it's quite late." She was just about to request that Arya leave, but her words were swiftly interrupted by his startling remark.

"Sometimes I wonder, does he even deserve you? How did he manage to win you?" Arya chuckled, a sardonic grin on his face, which conveyed nothing but irritation.

This behavior was peculiar, even for Arya, and it felt like he had crossed a line that no one had ever dared to approach before.

Dany was utterly shocked by his question. "What..what ?"

"Yes, I shouldn't be saying this, but it's the plain truth," Arya replied, his voice cold and soft, his shoulders subtly shrugging. Dany found herself struggling to grasp the reality of what she was hearing. She couldn't decide whether to scold him, be afraid of him, or wonder if he was in the right state of mind, or if he was genuinely like this.

"You don't need to interfere in our personal matters, especially concerning John. We love each other deeply, and he must be occupied with his duties, as I understand as a queen myself. Besides, he's your brother," she stated, her words firm and direct, although she was trying to maintain an air of confidence.

"Really?" Arya chuckled as he stepped closer, moving in much nearer to her. She could feel his cold breath on her skin. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I promise. I love my brother too, but... he's too foolish to leave you alone like this," he spoke slowly, his tone growing smoother and more sugary.

To Dany, it sounded like a sweet threat more than anything else. His eyes were fixed on her lips, filled with desire which she was unknown to. Dany wanted him to move away, to give her some space to breathe, but he didn't budge an inch from his place.

She couldn't comprehend why his presence was so intimidating, making her hesitate to push him away or say something. If it had been anyone else coming this close to her, she would have slapped them without a second thought. But there was something about Arya that left her momentarily paralyzed.

"Prince Arya... please, it's better if you..." Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper.

"You are so stunning, Daenerys. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Arya's voice took on the quality of a dark lullaby. Her name sounded exquisite as it left his lips. Daenerys managed to summon her strength and looked directly at Arya, who was studying her face with intense focus. She felt a fluttering sensation inside her, something she shouldn't be feeling.

There was something about his gaze that always stirred something within her. Her breath caught as she realized his fingers were gently running through her hair, loosening her locks. "Keep it open always. Why do you tie them up?" he asked softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. His fingers continued their journey from her hair to her cheeks. "So incredibly beautiful, so delicate, so naive..," he whispered, his fingers caressing her skin, his eyes locked onto her face.

This was undeniably wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Dany knew she should be ashamed for allowing her brother-in-law to cross these boundaries and engage in such improper actions, but the strange truth was she wasn't. Her body defied her better judgment, ached to be closer to him. She should have pushed him away, ordered him to leave, but instead, she found herself silently inviting him further, desiring to explore the depths of his cold, restrained touches. The brutal cold of the night outside only intensified her yearning to discover the warmth of his body, to see what he could do more with her.

Daenerys snapped herself out of her irrational thoughts, forcing her mind back to reality. She had become so lost in her contemplation that she hadn't noticed her back was nearly against the wall, and Arya's tall and lean frame encroached upon her, making her feel insignificant. She swallowed hard and attempted to stand straight, but it felt like everything was slipping through her grasp.

Arya gently stroked her cheeks with his hands. "You wanted to spend your special night with him, to give your all, and he just left you waiting. How sad for you," he cooed in a sweet but mocking tone. Daenerys could barely manage to speak under his touch. "No, that..that that's no..not what it was..."

The fire in room crackled tensely, mirroring the tension inside her.

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day, wearing this.., don't you?"

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day wearing this., don't you?"

she could only manage to stammer out, "Ye ye yesss, i..I do." Her body was melting beneath his touch, and she was unsure what kind of sorcery he was wielding over her heart.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "And this scent is used by whores in Braavos. You shouldn't be wearing it unless... you're one of them," he whispered, his fingers lazily wandering through her hair as he took his time. "How do you kn.. no, it's not..." Daenerys' words faltered, her voice trembling and her breathing heavy, unable to complete her defense. What had come over her?

With a challenging glint in his eyes, he remarked, "liar..I know it. I have quite a history with Braavos and you don't need all this. You don't need to dress like this." His fingers ventured further down her neckline, tantalizingly halting just above her navel. "You, alone, are enough. Without the dress,bare.. even more wonderful blessing," he added. In that moment, Danys was pinned against the wall, feeling as if it were the only thing keeping her from surrendering to the intense allure.

Pathetic, helpless, and devastated, she stood there. Her skin was ablaze with desire, every touch of his  fingers against it making her heartbeat race as if preparing for a battle.

Arya continued in a smooth hushed tone, "Don't mind me, but I would never leave such a woman alone, even for a moment, if she were my betrothed... I would devour her every chance,every moment I get," he whispered, his eyes fixed on her face, his fingers tracing the warm contours of her cheeks.

She had completely lost herself under his touch, his intense gaze, and everything else about him. Perhaps, in her denials, she had been denying her own needs as well. Finally, she opened her eyes and realized he was too close, dangerously close, as though he was about to consume her.

Thankfully, after a sliver of light seeping in from a slightly ajar door caught her eye, her gaze landed on the wedding dress she had got from John as gift.. With all her remaining strength, she distanced herself from Arya. Moving toward the door, she swung it open wide, signaling for him to depart with a courteous smile. "I think it's too late, Prince Arya. You should return to your room. I need some rest as well."

Arya moved away slowly, a faint grin clearly visible on his face as his eyes remained fixed on her. Dany struggled to avoid direct eye contact, looking elsewhere. When he approached the threshold, he couldn't resist a parting shot, "Goodnight, my queen. It was a pleasure to see you.. like this," he said with a honeyed tone, his smugness unmistakable.

"Thank you, Prince, for checking on me. Goodnight to you as well," she replied with a forced smile. She immediately closed the door and leaned against it, her breath heavy as if she had been suffocated throughout those moments.

Turning off the lights from candles, she walked over to her bed, cocooned herself in the embrace of the soft cushions and blankets, seeking nothing but peace. She was determined to ensure that whatever had just transpired would never happen again; it had been an ordeal beyond her imagining.

[genericpuff]

HIHI!!! I hope you're good, Puff!!

If you're ever up for it, I'd love to hear how you work and create while dealing with ADHD. I got a confirmed diagnosis just yesterday (though I've been suspecting it for a long time) and it'd be wonderful to hear how you cope with the struggles it provides, or even discuss any benefits you've discovered.

If not, no worries!! Thank you for reading this, Puff!!

<3

oh god I feel so bad every time this question comes up because. I can't really tell you how exactly I've been able to do it LOL Congrats on getting your assessment, I actually just got paired with a new physician the other day and am now pursuing medication for my own ADHD struggles as well! I got diagnosed with 100% combined ADHD yaaaaay!

Short answer to your question: very very carefully! Because despite the work I put out, I am still VERY prone to burnout. While on the surface you all see me putting out regular updates of Rekindled, underneath that are projects that have fallen to the wayside because my brain just said "nah, I don't wanna play with you anymore" and that sucks! And I don't want Rekindled to wind up that way either!

Recognizing my limitations and making accommodations where needed has definitely helped. Changing my update schedule from once a week to once every two weeks, working with an assistant, learning which battles to fight and which ones to pass on, etc. Obviously out-of-pocket things like having an assistant aren't options for everyone, but getting to work with Banshriek has really opened my eyes to how much I was putting myself through with when I was flying solo. I have that bad habit of taking on way too much for myself, thinking that I'm capable of being everything within a project and fulfilling every role, but that's exactly how folks like us wind up getting burnt out and falling out of love with our projects. So I've definitely learned to appreciate collaboration more in that regard, both for the sake of "carrying the load" as well as giving me another voice to give input and feedback.

But when that's not an option, definitely make sure to pace yourself. There's so much misinformation about what makes a "successful" comic and normalization of extremely unhealthy working habits that it makes people think they're not allowed to make comics unless it's a 50+ panel a week ordeal. Update on a schedule that works for you, people appreciate consistency above all things, even if it's only a page a week or a few pages a month, that's more than enough.

You also absolutely need to make sure to rest. Proper rest, no thinking about the next page or the next update, just go out and exercise or hang out with friends or do something that gets you away from your usual working area and also provides you with stimulation. It's good for both your mental and physical health. I know with ADHD it can be very tempting to just pour every bit of yourself into a project right off the bat because you're so excited and full of BEANS, but that's just the dopamine demon talking! Don't let it tempt you into spending all of it in once place! If you do that, that's when you'll wind up burnt out and taking breaks that you can't recover from! It's a marathon, not a race!

When it comes to my own experiences, I really just love drawing comics. If it wasn't Rekindled, it would be anything else. That made it 'easy' to turn it into a habitual routine, but that's only because to me, drawing comics is the escape from the more boring shit I have going on in my life. This means I have to balance it carefully so that it doesn't become too much of a job or an obligation. There are definitely times when that balance tips, when the last thing I wanna look at is whatever episode I'm working on, and when I find myself crunching on pages with 2 days left on the clock before an upload.

The important thing is not to get yourself down over the failures and keep moving forward, even if it's not as fast a speed as you were hoping for. We're often really hard on ourselves to put out 150% on everything we do, but if 150% were the norm, it would just be 100%, y'know what I mean? And even still we're not designed to put 100% in every day, because some days we'll only have the capacity to offer up 30% - 30% is 100% on those days. Be kind to yourself <3

[madude21]

Over time

Suzanne loved being pregnant with her bosses baby. Not only was he a good lover but also a great boss. When she started at a tech company she never imagined she would have it so easy.

At first she was just a regular secatatary, taking calls, scheduling meetings, and all the boring paper work no one wanted to do. After awhile she was sick of it and went to her boss ,Jack, to ask for a more important position.

She never really thought anything of him until she saw how dirty he really was. One day, as she approached his corner office she saw that it was locked and started to head back to her desk. Bit before that she heard a muffled "AAAHHH" sound.

Fearing her boss was in trouble she unlocked the door to help him. When the door was opened she saw Jack rubbingone out to his computer."GET THE HELL OUT" he yelled.

She quickly shut the door and stated back to her desk. So many thoughts were going through her head as she tried to forget about what she saw. Not 5 minutes had passed before Jack called her back into his office.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Suzanne, I know it was wrong and I'll think twice before trying that again. But please can we keep this between us, my dad would kill me if he found out what I did at his company" he explained

"I think we should get you a new lock. I got into your office with just a paper clip" Suzanne said in a calm voice. "What, why are you thinking about the door Suzanne"

"You can call me Suzie, and I think you're dad is the least of your worries". He gulped "I'm done for ain't I?" He asked with fear in his voice. "Now ever since I started here you've treated me fair and I think we can reach a fair agreement"

Jack thought the worst as he started to worry about what Suzie was planning. "what did you have in mind?"he asked in a shaky voice. "I know there a new branch management position open, I would like to have it" Suzie said smirking. "Done, it's yours" Jack said hoping that it was all. "There is one other thing". Susie got up and walk towards Jack with malicious intent.

"I want you put a baby's in me" Susie demanded. "What did you say?" Jack wanted to make sure that this was real. "With all this work I've been doing I haven't been able to really live a social life and I want to become a mother before it's too late". Jack was astonished, he didn't really have a social life either because he grew up rich and was basically raised by tutors. "I... uh... don't know what to say". "Don't say anything, just sit there and look pretty" Suzie bent over and took her panties off and dropped on the floor infront of him. Jack's heart raced as he couldn't believe what was happening right now. "Are we really doing this, right here, right now?". Susie ignored his words and started to unbuckle his pants. Jack was in shock, he knew that this was wrong but he was afraid of what she might do if he stopped her.

"just relax and try to be quiet this time" she put her leg over his chair, as her wet pussy hovered over his cock, she guided his dick inside her. "mmnng" she moned softly as to not draw any attention. Jack was enjoying himself until "hnnng" he didn't last long. Susie felt his worm cum inside her "that's ok boss, I got what I wanted". She got off him, turned around and bent over to pick he panties up.

"I'm not done yet" jack grabbed her wrist, his cock was still hard and his confidence had grown. "I don't mind making sure I'm pregnant" she leaned on his desk and presented her cum filled pussy. "I'm gonna enjoy this" he whispered in her ear as he started ramming his hips against her ass. His dick reaching deep inside her. They didn't care how loud they were, they fucked each other all morning that day.

That was 9 months ago and now Suzie sat in her own office with her beautifully round belly. Jack had her office custom made so that their coworkers were deaf to the sounds of their "one on one meetings". Jack entered her office and locked the door "thought we could have some fun before the meeting. How's my son doing". "he has been causing some trouble in there, I think he wants his daddy". Suzie bent over on here chair, awaiting Jack's dick. "You shouldn't even be working being a week overdue, but I can't deny that ass" Jack began fucking her. Wrapping his hands around her plump baby bump and feeling and his son kicking much more than usual "he's really fussy today huh?". Jack turned Suzie so that he could get a better grip of her belly "not so rough today" Suzie begged."I'll try" Jack responded as he pulled her belly aggenst his hips.

They made love for 20 minutes before the pains began. "Aaagh" " are you alright?" "Yes it's nothing, just don't stop". Jack continued, he couldn't resist her jucy pussy as it was extra wet today. " oh god, unnnggg" Suzie's water broke and soked her carpet floor. "Was that the baby" jack asked, worried. "No I just camed" she lied.

"Are you sure, that's a lot of juice" "yeah I've been drinking a lot of liquids" Susie didn't want to miss this meeting, she had to be present not because she needed to but she wanted to see Jack get his promotion. "I'll be fine I can last an hour before the baby comes" she thought. " you go get ready for the meeting, I'm going to clean up this mess and" she was interrupted by a painful contraction. "Are you ok" jack asked "just Braxton hics, nothing to worry about. You go I'll see you at the meeting" she said rushing him out the door. "Please, I want to see Jack inherent the company, just stay in there for a little while"

At the meeting, she was lucky to be seated at the far side, away from Jack. The CEO and Jack's dad, the owner and founder, sat at the other end of the table. As the meeting began the time between her contractions grew smaller. "It's only an hour, I can make it" she said as she felt her baby pushing against her cervix. The meaning was like any other boring corporate meeting. They started by sharing quarterly reports and future contracts. She couldn't focus on anything they were saying as she tried so hard to stay silent.

"Finally it was time for Jack to receive his promotion. Jack's father got up to address the room "now on to more exciting news, I think it's time to welcome our new CFO Jack" everyone in the room started clapping and as they did Suzie was able to let out a small whimper of pain as she felt like pushing. As the noise died down Jack started to speak "I am very honored to have this position and I would like to thank my branch manager, this could have happened without you Suzanne and I would like to thank you for all your hard work". She stood up trying very hard not to scream "thank you all for supporting me... I know times been tough but together we can-mnngg-get through it". She sat down quick, and as she did another contraction hit her.

When the meeting was overly quickly waddled to her office. She knew that she wasn't going to make it to the hospital and laid on the floor to push. A couple of minutes I'd pass and she could feel her baby halfway up the birth canal. Suddenly Jack swung the door opened " I knew it, why didn't you tell me?". "Just shut up and help me deliver this baby,I'm so close" she said pushing her baby. "No son of mine is being born in an office" Jack stuff cheese fingers inside Suzie and started to push their son back. "NNOOO, STOP" Suzie cried out in vain. "now I'm going to carry you and you're going to keep your legs shut until we get to the hospital, understood? " Suzie nodded.

The trip to the hospital was excruciating. Jack would constantly stick his fingers inside Suzie to make sure his baby stayed inside. Every time Suzie pushed he pushed back. But right as they got into the parking lot Suzie was able to push her babies head out. "PLEASE JUST LET ME FINNISH" "NO, YOU BETTER START WAIT TILL THE DELIVERY ROOM" Jack pulled her up. It was hard to walk when there was a baby in between her legs. Jack manage to find a wheelchair and sat her down. When they got to the lobby Jack yelled for the doctor's help but in vain because with one final push his son was born.

[sparklepocalypse]

First Line Analysis

Big thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @energievie, and @read-and-write- for the tags here! It's been awhile since I've done something like this, and I've posted a few things since then, so here we go!

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

Opening Lines, from most to least recent:

“We’ll just have to keep it very casual, of course.” Henry is an idiot. He hopes desperately that this realization isn’t written all over his face, like his every thought always is when it comes to the man sitting opposite him on the boldly colored sofa. The taste of Alex’s cum still lingers in Henry’s mouth, and he might have just prevented himself from ever getting a refresher, and — [Nobody Knows, Just We Two | Alex/Henry | E]

Each evening, Alex texts when he gets off the subway, and today is no different. Be home in ten. Love you. Missed your face. [He Drives Me Fucking Crazy; I am His Everything | Alex/Henry | E]

“Ma, seriously. I’m sixteen. I can go to the UN fundraiser,” Alex huffs, smoothing down the front of his shirt as the car rolls to a stop. “It feels like you’re dropping me off at daycare. I don’t even know these people.” [Count to Ten & Breathe Real Deep | Alex/Henry | E]

“Oh, come on,” Alex groans as traffic grinds to a halt on I-10 just outside of Norwalk. His shift starts in an hour and a half; it’s his first as a face character, and he’s going to be late if the cars don’t get fucking moving. [Love Like Yours Will Surely Come My Way | Alex/Henry | E]

The worst part about being a siren in the modern era, Henry ponders as yet another ship flies past his cove at a speed that he knows will disturb the anemone gardens below, is the yacht bros. Between the sound of their vessels’ motors and the dissonant noise the humans call music, Henry’s singing has no chance of attracting anyone’s attention. [All the Ocean Was Sleeping | Alex/Henry | E]

Alex Claremont-Diaz is sixteen years old, and he hasn’t presented. His dad seems to think it’s fine and offers Alex regular reassurance that his cousin Angel hadn’t presented until nearly 20. His mom, though, gets a little crease between her eyebrows whenever she thinks Alex isn’t looking. Presenting is a Big Deal in the Claremont family, and Alex just... hasn’t. [Late Bloomer | Alex/Henry | E]

For once, they’re not due on set until nearly noon. The night shoot at the V&A had run until nearly 1 AM, and Matthew had deliberately given the cast a recovery day, with only their Prime Video interview scheduled until that evening. It will, the Prime reps have promised, be a low pressure interview featuring some unserious activities framing an opportunity to reintroduce themselves to the world as the men bringing Alex and Henry to life. [You're the Spark That Won't Go Out | Taylor/Nick | E]

Nick can pinpoint the exact moment the line disappears. [Just Want You to Make Me Move | Taylor/Nick | E]

It’s coming. [Single Sad-Sack Seeking Same | Alex/Henry | E]

“Go win an election.” [Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me | Alex/Henry | E]

Analysis and tags behind the jump because that's already a wall of text. 😅🤣

First Line Analysis:

Not a ton of world-building in any of these first lines.

You can typically tell what sort of AU one of the more out-there AUs is going to be from the first line; Late Bloomer mentions presentation; All the Ocean Was Sleeping mentions sirens. The less outlandish AUs are less obvious.

60% of my last 10 fics make it clear whose POV you're reading in the first line.

Only one of these first lines contains a swear word; likewise, only one contains an overt reference to smut (even though these are literally all rated E).

Two of these first lines are a single sentence under five words; the remainder are... much longer.

Two of the first lines are either just a quote from the movie script or include a quote from the movie.

Four of the first lines open on dialogue, and of the rest, five are expository and one is ominous.

Tagging @eusuntgratie, @firenati0n, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @duchessdepolignaca03, @priincebutt,

@violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @cactusdragon517, @bigassbowlingballhead, @anincompletelist, @cha-melodius,

@orchidscript, @porcelainmortal, @thesleepyskipper, @onthewaytosomewhere, @mudbloodpotter05

[broadwaybalogna]

Hyperfixations: what they are, how they work, and why they’re unhealthy

A PSA about my relationship with hyperfixations and why someone should get help if they’re experiencing something similar.

So, if you’ve seen me on this site/app, it’s probably been due to my massive love for Zutara and Katara. If you see me now, I almost barely use this site other than to reblog one or two Zutara posts I like. This is the result of an extremely unhealthy hyperfixation I had with Zutara.

A hyperfixation is pretty much exactly what it sounds like, but it’s easiest to explain it by breaking it up: a fixation is something a person is solely focuses on for a duration of time. This is often compared to a light obsession toward something. Most people can have fixations. It’s very easy to become enamored with something and make it a sole focus for maybe a day or two. The hyper aspect is what changes everything and why hyperfixations are most commonly associated with neurodivergent or autistic individuals.

Going from a fixation to a hyperfixation is easy to visualize. Imagine all the aspects of a fixation- just 10x more obsessive. A hyperfixation is basically the more unhealthy version of a fixation. I clearly remember myself staying up until 4-5am each night writing, drawing, and consuming Zutara content. It took up my every thought (seriously, almost all my thoughts consisted of Zutara. I could be at the beach and daydream about Zutara having a beach date, I would go shopping and look for Zutara/Katara merchandise, it took my my entire focus.)

There was nothing anyone could do to take my focus away. I was aware, in retrospect, that what I was doing wasn’t good for myself, but I was too obsessed to stop myself and take a break. That’s why when the hyperfixation finally died down, I almost left this site in its entirety. It was a sharp transition from hyperfixation to small preference; this is in large part also due to the fact that I began taking ADHD medication.

The medication I had stopped my hyperfixation, but it didn’t help any other factors that contributed to my attention deficit disorder, so I was on and off a variety of meds for a month or two.

When I finally stopped obsessing over these two, however, I was able to get good sleep, I was able to eat better, and I was able to better focus on what I needed to do rather than wanted to do.

Now, just because I’m not as crazy about Zutara as I was, it doesn’t mean I don’t like the ship at all anymore. My hyperfixation had to stem from a regular fixation/interest in order for it to get to the intensity that it got to, but I do think it is incredibly important to spread awareness about how unhealthy I was and how it manifested on this site.

From March 26th to August 5th, I wrote a total of 25 fanfictions and 40k words surrounding Zutara. That’s 2.5 fanfictions per week. Not to mention everything I was reading and consuming as well. I was also drawing. I made about 20 drawings with an average of maybe 1.5 hours spent on each one.

I was aware of the fact that what was happening to me was unhealthy, but I was so obsessed I didn’t want to stop. I actually didn’t want to take my meds because I didn’t want my hyperfixation to end.

That’s how bad things can get.

I hope this is helping to understand just how out of control something can become. The ONLY way I was able to stop was by taking prescribed medication that literally sends signals to my brain to stfu and leave me alone.

If this post has helped you realize that you may be suffering from some form of a hyperfixation or other ADHD related symptoms, please take the time to research and schedule an appointment with a doctor so you can be properly diagnosed and medicated. These kinds of obstacles that neurodivergent people face have many ranges and it’s important to realize that help might be needed.

Please please please do what’s best for you if you think you may be facing a similar problem. Because it is a problem, and it can hurt.

I hope this post was able to do good to some people. I really don’t want to imagine people in a place where I was where everything in my brain was so clouded aside from a ship.

P.S: this post is not a resignation of mine for Tumblr and my love for Zutara. It’s acting also as kind of an explanation for why I have been very inactive as of late.

[222hopelessromantic444]

My girl

for the love of god i can't bring myself to write anything too spicy phasdjha

I'm trying to get out of my comfort zone so bare with me- hope you still like it tho<333

summary: you and Leon relax after a night out

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It started out like a regular Friday afternoon. Leon had taken you out to dinner earlier, and now both of you are sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some kind of movie.

Neither of you is paying attention to the TV or to the heavy rain against your apartment window. Just the fact that the two of you are able to spend time like this, not caring about anything but yourselves, was more than you could both wish for. Due to Leon's tight work schedule, it was always difficult to find some quality time, so often you'd just find yourselves going to bed rather than going out.

You had quickly found your way into Leon's arms, listening to his heartbeat and taking in his scent as the soft sounds of the TV started to lull you into a gentle slumber. The only thing keeping you from fully drifting off to sleep was the thick tension in the air.

Leon had been acting rather strangely the whole night, pulling you closer out of nowhere, only to let go of you completely a second later. As you brought up his strange behavior this afternoon, he just laughed it off, telling you that "everything is normal." Was he angry at you, or did you hurt him in any possible way? Your train of thought made you overthink everything you had been doing tonight, and out of curiosity and self-doubt, you decided to ask him again.

Still sleepy, you whisper, "Hey, Leon? I can feel that something is wrong. Just talk to me, please." Slowly, you lift yourself up a bit, so that you can look into his eyes properly. "Have I done something wrong?"

He lets out a soft laugh, yet his facial expression doesn't change. "It's really nothing, sweetheart."

"Leonnn..." you whine out of desperation, anger slowly forming within you.

Instead of answering, he brings one of his hands up to your face, gently caressing the soft skin of your cheek. "You really wanna know what bothers me?" he mocks your tone, his eyes searching for your gaze. Only a single touch of his had your head spinning, and with the way he looked at you so lovingly, you couldn't suppress a soft smile.

"Just tell me already..." another whine leaves your mouth. "You're such a tease."

You could feel his other hand moving to the small of your back, gently drawing small circles onto your shirt-covered body. A sigh leaves the man's lips. "Me? A tease?" he asks in a dramatic manner while raising an eyebrow. "Have you seen the dress you've been wearing tonight?"

His gentle touch gets more intense with every word he speaks. Now, his hand that previously rested on your cheek makes its way toward your neck. Leon's cold gaze shifts, breaking eye contact and eyeing the loose white shirt you are wearing.

When you came home tonight, you quickly took off your pretty black dress and only put on one of Leon's big shirts, since they're the most comfy.

His eyes wander up the skin of your exposed shoulder before they finally move back to your face.

"Now you're even wearing one of my shirts..." Your breath hitches as he starts talking again. "Do you know what you're doing to me?" His voice is soft, yet a bit raspy, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Getting shy all of a sudden, you look away as a dark red shimmer starts to appear across your face. His big hands make their way to your face again, turning your face to his. His thumb gently caresses your lower lip as he pulls your face even closer to his. Now just a few inches separate both of your lips.

It feels like the world stops spinning, and everything goes quiet—the rain outside, the noises of the TV—nothing matters right now. Only you in his arms, his fast heartbeat, and the tingling sensation you feel all over your body.

Even if you didn't want to, you couldn't help but close your eyes and take in the moment. Your whole body aches for his touch, for his body and his encouraging words and praises.

Softly, you move closer, closing the gap between you two. Your lips collide, his movements sending a warm sensation down your body as he tries to pull you even closer. If you weren't lying on top of him like this, your legs would have given in by now.

The kiss is long and heated, still full of passion and love. You'd never grow tired of his kisses; his soft but rough lips are like a drug for you, wanting more and more every time.

Your hands move behind his neck, gently tugging on his silky hair, which has him humming in appreciation.

After what feels like an eternity, you both have to stop to catch your breath. Both of you are panting heavily as his icy blue orbs watch your every move.

Out of nowhere, he sits up, resting his head on your shoulder and entwining your hands with his.

He struggles a bit to find the right words and has to take a deep breath before he starts whispering into your ear.

"I love you more than anything else, my love," he pauses. "You're everything to me. My sweet girl."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. His light grip on your thighs, and his lips now kissing up and down your neck, have your blood rushing through your veins, leaving your cheeks tinted red.

Still breathless, you're sitting on his lap, closing your eyes again and gently petting his head. While he continues to place light kisses on your neck, he murmurs other sweet nothings into your ear, sometimes quiet whimpers interrupting him.

Seeing him so vulnerable fills you with pride, knowing that you're the only one able to see this side of him. If only you could make him feel like this all the time, show him that expressing his emotions isn't a bad thing - but it feels like you have to start all over again whenever he comes back from a mission.

Those moments mean everything to you; they make up for the weeks and months he spends far away from you, often even unable to text or call you.

But for him, you'd wait forever. No matter what happens, you'd always welcome him with open arms.

Leon's teeth hesitantly grasping your skin bring you back to reality.

"Are you tired, Lee?" you ask.

Leon, whose eyes are closed, just nods tiredly, his head still resting on your shoulder. You know him well, probably better than the poor man knows himself, so you can already sense how Leon's body softly goes limp.

"Come on, I'll take you to bed, honey." Only a few moments later, he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzles his face into your back, and drifts off to sleep.

[charmspoint]

Full Foreword

(Context: I wrote a long foreword for dance with the devil but AO3 nerfed me so I'm posting it here :3)

On 30th of June 2021 I published Rabid Dreams, Neon Lights and Your Teeth on My Tongue. It was supposed to be a one shot for an exchange, one that I at first struggled to write, before suddenly managing to find my stride. And what I wrote ended up capturing my imagination so intensely and viciously that on the night I posted it, I started planning the first prequel.

It’s now 14th of June 2024.

Three years later and we are finally here.

In many ways, this fic is my child. I truly think it’s some of the best writing I’ve ever done and certainly the best, most in depth character study I’ve ever done. This fic technically has two iterations, because when I first started writing it, it was supposed to be a 10k oneshot...then a 20k oneshot...then a 70k oneshot. Faced with such a big number, I couldn’t in my right mind post it all together and expect people to read 70k incessant words of a deep au (without a ship dynamic!) so I set to separating it into chapters. To separate it into chapters each previous section of the oneshot had to be rounded into a story that could stand as a chapter, and then of course there were some things I ended up not liking about certain arcs so I changed them, expanded them, shifted the character roles around, gave certain characters more screen time and more impact and well...you can expect to read about 101k words once this fic is fully finished. Just of this. Just of the prequel from Satoru’s POV. It’s hands down the biggest thing I’ve ever written and the big word count is one of the reasons this took so long. The other reason is that I wanted to have a weekly posting schedule. Currently, all chapters save from last two have been fully written, beta read and edited. I’m confident I can give you a regular posting schedule every Friday around this time.

Now for some dedications.

Firstly, this fic is dedicated to Sesshom0ru, who originated the initial prompt that fired off the oneshot and then this fic right after it. Thank you for patiently waiting for the prequel that was promised to you three years ago lmao!

Secondly, this fic is dedicated to Frappe. I met Frappe when she did art for CotA and we became very good friends, so much so that she was quickly wrapped up into the production of this fic. Frappe was going to draw the cover for this fic as well as spot art for each chapter. We were both very excited about it and talked about it constantly and some of that art, especially the cover which is completely stunning, does exist. But unfortunately, Frappe fell out of contact almost two years ago. I don’t know what happened to her but I hope it’s nothing bad. I hope life was just life and she got carried away with it, I still hope I see her discord avatar pop up in my dms again. Out of respect for Frappe I won’t be posting any of the art she had made for the fic, but this fic is still dedicated to her and I hope that one day she still gets to read it. This is for you Frappe, thank you for loving my boys as much as I did <3.

Thirdly, and most importantly, this fic is dedicated to Ker, my beta reader. If there are readers here who had read multiple of my fics, they are probably familiar with Ker’s name. Ker beta reads most of my big projects and most of the little ones that I think are really good. The reason you might have been seeing less of their name pop up in current projects is because I had them sat and beta reading 18 chapters for this crazy fic. And they did such a wonderful job with it too. I honestly couldn’t ask for a better beta reader if I tried, couldn’t find one if I searched the whole internet for them. Ker brings such incredible love and attention to detail to beta reading and editing my fics. I’ve had a fair number of people edit my fics, but only Ker does it with such care and attentiveness. I often say, me and Ker, we are coparents of this fic. It’s theirs as much as it’s mine. They not only beta read it, but also listened to my endless rants about it, encouraged me when I had doubts and cheered me on when I did something well. They don’t just point out grammar mistakes, they carefully go through the chapter and point out where things don’t flow well, when scenes should be expanded, when things should be better explained. They also react with a lot of baby emojis to Satoru’s antics. I have taken to referring to Satoru as Ker’s son whenever he’s doing something stupid. I cannot overstate how much Ker does and has done for this fic. They truly, honestly make me a better writer, not content with just correcting my grammar and then patting my back, but constantly challenging me to do better, to develop more, to surprise them again. I cannot overstate how important Ker is to my writing process and to me personally. This is why this might sound like someone endlessly gushing about their spouse, lmao. But they do deserve it. They stuck with my crazy, violent little story from beginning to the end and are already at the next starting line, eager for more. Ker is the best beta reader I could ask for, my loudest cheerleader and my most beloved. Thank you darling, for being you, you’re irreplaceable to me <3

It might seem silly to have such a long starting note on a silly little gang au fic of a manga that has almost run its course. But this fic took three years to make. A lot of love was put into it, a lot of energy and effort. I hope you all enjoy it and love it as much I do.

[bellybiologist]

Tallying up the Year

I hope you guys' december (which is almost over already, wtf) is going/has gone well! 2024 is upon us.

This christmas weekend, I mostly found myself thinking about how this year went, and honestly? despite all the things I haven't gotten to do, I still managed to accomplish quite a lot.

Me typing this rambly post out is less anything anyone needs to read, but more to remind myself of Things That Got Done™ than anything else because sometimes... I forget I do be getting shit done! And it's important we remind ourselves of the work we do.

The Things That got Done™

I advocated for my own Health. I scheduled (and went to!) so many doctor and dental appointments this year, holy shit. But, if the last few years have taught me anything, I simply have to put in the effort. I got my colon mostly sorted out, started a new regimen for my skin and hair (after chopping it off) so I'm feeling better, schedule an appointment with the optometrist in January, and even got lots of issues with my teeth fixed. Granted, our broken medical system made it incredibly stressful, and i spent thousands of dollars on the latter that I will be paying off til next july BUT!!!! This section is about the good things.

Started Streaming Again! I've been missing streaming since I stopped way back in I believe 2020. It was a fun way to interact with followers and supporters, so I'm glad I'm back to it on a regular schedule, with many of the old regulars still joining me while I work. Speaking of which:

I finished 43 total stream doodles. While I'm only filling a handful a month, it's definitely adding up! 40+ boys in the span of 5 months is nothing to scoff at, and that's not even considering that I'm doing this alongside normal patreon work.

I finished 39 total commissions this year. I'm definitely still going quite slowly, and I thank everyone who has been extraordinarily patient thus far, but I'm happy to say that my pace has been decent... at least relative to previous years. I got more done in the last 5 months than i did in the roughly year and a half period before 2023!

Replaced SEVERAL appliances that broke down. My computer moniter, my microwave, my refrigerator... all failed on my this year, and it took some work, but I finally managed to get them all replaced! So far, everything is working fine, but next on my agenda is to save up for a new desktop. This one I use for work has been at it since 2017, and it's about time to look into upgrading.

My Google Drive is Looking Nice. It's still not perfect, but I'm still immensely proud of how it's shaping up. There's still some curating of older pieces to do, but I've found a stride where I'm regularly updating it for people to peruse.

=====

Now despite these W's, I still got a long way to go. The things below could be considered resolutions for 2024, but that feels cursed to call them that. They are simply:

Things I Want to GET Done

Adding more YCH Figures. I was definitely expecting to have more to choose from by this point. And I really need to update some of the older ones too, because I think they've aged poorly. I got some neat suggestions and hopefully will find some time this week to showcase them in my discord to collect some feedback before releasing them.

Do more involved pieces/projects. I want to do more things like Comics, or simply pieces that I work on over the course of several sittings, ones where I can experiment and fiddle and practice!!! I rarely ever get to do that these days (I've only finished a few Big Personal Pieces this year), and I need to find time and energy to do them more because those are the things that truly make me feel like I grow as an artist. (and maybe I can find a shading style I actually fucking tolerate.). I also want to get more OC development and stuff done too, cuz I really didn't draw my children a whole lot this year!

Make more fucking Money!!!!! Let's not kid ourselves. I want to get to a point where I'm not just barely meeting the monthly quota. How to get there? I don't know, honestly. Things are so very stacked against artists right now, so it really does feel like the only thing that can be done is Not Give Up. Which I won't do. If/when I go down, I'm making it everyone else's problem. Trust. 😏

Save up to Visit the Boyfriend. I haven't seen him since January 2022! Big goal is to be comfortable enough to where I can fly my ass up there and smooch him. 👏🏽

======

I won't lie, i'm going into 2024 quite anxious and still scraping by by the skin of my teeth (that I'm still paying for). It's going to be a BIG year cuz oh boy, it's election year, there's plenty of family developments i gotta keep an eye on and work to be a part of... not to mention all the horrible stuff going on still (free palestine!).

Here's hoping shit goes our way this coming year! And let's get ,more strikes going so everyone is getting their fucking money!!! :V

[ave-immaculata]

Hi. I am messaging as many Catholic blogs as I possibly can for spiritual help--I don't know if this is offensive. I don't mean it to be--I honestly, I try my very best to be a good practicing Catholic--but life gets very confusing. Anyway, I've been absolutely failing at every aspect of this Lenten promise, and I am terrified God is going to hurt me or hate me or punish me or just let something like that happen--that is not to say God is vindictive--He isn't; I'm just being very evil by making a promise to God and then not sticking to it. I've been getting mostly positive signs, but I am afraid that I am interpreting them that way out the selfish desire to be good and loved by God and not because He is actually pleased with me. I know this is complex problem. I know if you find the side blog this is from that it is going to be filled with non-canonical thoughts and desires and takes on God. I don't do it to be disrespectful--I love the Church with all my heart. I never wanna leave Her. So, if you do find it, please don't be mad or think made this out insincerity. I'm just scared and life and maybe the afterlife is throwing things at me at a much more advanced speed and understanding than I am prepared for. I would talk to my local priest, but I have caused trouble in the Diocese before, and I really don't wanna drag those people back in or my current priest or my family and I don't wanna be humiliated again. So, all I am asking for is prayer. Just pray for me.

{{{{Lenten Plans from the Universe/The Messiah/The Golden Timeline (02/13/24)

Okay so basically, here is the plan--handed down through divine intuition or signs or whatever gave me the information--I trust the information source--so here's my spiritual cleanse for the 40 days:

3 days of (as close as possible) no sleep--72 straight hours--then 2 days of regular sleep schedule for the next 40 days

40 days of no more than 1200 calories every day

40 days no spend (outside of food and bills)

40 days (at least) of no medication (exception--Excedrin Migraine but only in extreme situations...)

Increased prayer/communing/sign reading

***I want to be clear that this is something that I am doing for my own spiritual cleanse and enlightenment and enrichment and etc; I'm not advertising this as a responsible or safe or anything--this isn't a recommendation--you're welcome to join me in an attempt but consult with your own support system including mental health team.***}}}

I'm sorry this is so long. I'm sorry for being confusing or weird. I hope you are having a blessed Lent and I hope that you are given many blessings for praying. God Bless and thank you.

I will absolutely pray for you. I also want to add, despite what I'm about to say, that I get the worry you're describing about God punishing you or letting something bad happen as a consequence. I experience that kind of thinking, and even though intellectually we know that's not how God operates, it doesn't necessarily make it any less stressful. Any practices or penances that are amplifying those concerns are not drawing you to God and are not good.

Your series of Lenten devotions, in my opinion, were always going to be failed. These are collectively (individually, even), stricter and more difficult than most religious people (monks, nuns, etc., not just people who practice religion) would take on. I would sincerely recommend considering lessening your observance for the rest of Lent and discerning these sources pushing you towards them with renewed skepticism (especially using Ignatian discernment, which I can describe more if you like). Especially concerning (outside the penances), is "sign-reading." I don't doubt your sincerity or love for God, but I don't know that, given your worries and anxiety, this is going to be fruitful or draw you into a deeper communion with God.

God will not try to trick you with confusing signs or threaten you for not being able to keep up with this. God isn't going to ask you to stop taking prescribed medications as a penance. Let your your love for Him and His Church be the foundation of the remainder of Lent; your desire to please Him is delightful to Him. Read the Scriptures and dwell with Him.

I obviously don't know the situation with your diocese, but please consider speaking to one of the Priests about this.

[infinitestarsdev]

Devlog 2023-09-22

It's another Friday! And it's a long weekend in South Africa.

The past two weeks haven't been kind to me. We were without water for a few days, and we were back to being without power for 9+ hours per day, but that seems to be over now. We're back to having water, and the daily power cuts are down to the regular 2-4 hours per day, which I can deal with.

My day job has also been particularly busy, not that I'm complaining, as it pays the bills. We're working on some large deals, and I've been asked to be part of a prestigious upcoming event. I've also been meeting with some fascinating business individuals, which always leaves me energised and motivated! My only complaint is time. To quote Bilbo Baggins, "I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread."

But the rest of our amazing team has been incredible with picking up the slack!

Crowbie has been expanding on my drafts and working on the content for Episode 4, Tae has done what feels like a gazillion new characters recently (The six aliens we've teased, four new side characters for the crew, the Spooktober outfits, and so much more!)

Stoffies has had some health issues from too much drawing, and he has to take it a bit slower, with some scheduled downtime happening from December. We snatched HiroDan, our other background artist, from a still unannounced project to step in and help out in the meantime.

Backgrounds always seem to be the bottleneck when it comes to new content, but we're still set on launching the next public release of Infinite Stars in November. At worst, we'll have to use some placeholder art, as I don't want to delay the release much longer.

I'm regretting the whole Spooktober thing.

I'm anxiously watching the deadline approach as I wasn't bargaining on the extra distractions. Even without the extended power cuts and increased day job workload, we were on a thin margin of available time. I've always wanted to participate, so we'll see it through!

Doesn't Reyna look enchanting in her Halloween Heist costume? A lot of you voted for Reyna to be dressed as a witch, and I can't wait to share the other costumes!

I still have a lot of day job tasks to get through, and I'm also hoping to get some more Infinite Stars work done, so I'm going to politely bow out and get back to work.

[manogirl]

What's airing next? Speculation about GMMTV's remaining QL series

Pretend I'm the gif of the math lady right now.

I've been doing some triangulation based on director/artist manager instagram posts, and I have a guess for how the next 6 months plays out with GMMTV QLs. (I'm using QL vs. BL because I'm including 23.5 in these guesses.)

First of all, I think Dangerous Romance is replacing Be My Favorite in mid-August. Q10 has already finished, so even if there a lot of queues in the shooting schedule, that's still 7ish weeks until air.

Secondly, the other show that's further than a few queues shot is Only Friends, but my guess is that they put that in a Monday or Tuesday (?) late-night spot, like they did with P'Jojo's The Warp Effect. Shooting should be MUCH more regular and quick now that 2/3 of the cast is done rehearsing and performing LOL Fanfest 2023, so I think it could be ready in late-August, early-September.

Cooking Crush will air next; they're on Q3 there, so depending on how many live commitments Off and Gun have, they'll finish in time for EITHER a Hidden Agenda replacement (less likely) or a Dangerous Romance replacement. IF Cooking Crush replaces BMF, that would remove the Friday 8:30 air-time from consideration for other shows for the rest of 2023. Cooking Crush would go into January (I think).

My HOPE is that they do replace Hidden Agenda with Cooking Crush, so that 23.5 can have the Friday 8:30 slot. I think it deserves the prime placement, frankly. I think MilkLove have enough fans, and the secondary ships are gonna be GOOOOOD.

IF, however, Cooking Crush ends up in the Friday 8:30 time, then I think it's probably the Hidden Agenda spot for 23.5. Which I think is...not as prime of a slot, but then again, I think they will draw GL fans to wherever they are on the schedule.

Last Twilight is a bit of a wildcard in all of this. They haven't started shooting yet, but I think it'll be ready in 2023. I don't know if we're gonna get a "three GMMTV shows at once" situation again, but maybe they throw Last Twilight into the Only Friends spot, on a Tuesday? I think LT and 23.5 are neck-and-neck in terms of where they are in production timeline. I suppose LT could start airing in December in one of the free timeslots that isn't the Friday one....

Lastly, I don't think we're getting Cherry Magic this year. I don't know if we're getting it all; I'm having...doubts. It just seems...unlikely. I hope they do a NLMG or MLC with it, and pop it into 2024, but....boy, I just don't even know. Anyone else have any guesses on this one?

I honestly can't believe I just did this, but I guess creeping on GMMTV productions is what I do now for funsies. Hope at least some of this is right! If it's not, I'll laugh my fucking ass off.

[flecks-of-stardust]

Dreamless: Chapter One — A Call to Struggle

Chapter one of my Hollow Knight AU, Dreamless. Spoilers inbound.

Learn more about this AU: a link to the Dreamless masterlist.

Chapter summary: Ghost sails to Hallownest and is grouchy about it the whole time. They run into a few unpleasant realizations on their way in, and confront Elderbug at the entrance to Dirtmouth. They then bed down to prepare for the journey ahead. 

Content warning for violent anger.

Read this chapter on AO3.

Before we get into the heat of things, some clarifications and warnings. This will be a long note, but bear with me. It's important.

Dreamless is a very personal story that draws a lot from my own experiences. Many sequences in this fic are based directly on things I am working through, and some indirectly or directly parallel certain real world events. I have no interest in attempting to hide this fact. I just ask that you be respectful when reading this story. There will be war, there will be genocide, there will be colonization, there will be death. None of this is going to be glossed over. If you can't handle that, I understand. But if you choose to read this fic, please keep in mind that half the time, this is what Dreamless is exploring.

In the previous iteration of this fic, I put this warning on Chapter 4, which is where this fact first rears its head, but now I recognize it should be a disclaimer at the very start of the fic. So here it is. Dead dove do not eat, please proceed with caution.

The rest of this note is addressed to, in this order, screenreader users, readers from the previous version of the fic, and anyone who needs content warnings. If you aren't any of these, you may skip the rest of the note. I hope you enjoy the first chapter.

For screenreader users, hello! I am a sighted writer, but I've tried my best to make this fic as screenreader accessible as I can with what I know. It seems that not all screenreaders distinguish between plain, bolded, and italicized text, so I've added extra notation for clarity. Bolded text will be bounded by asterisks (*), and italicized text will be bounded by underscores (_). In future chapters, there will be dialogue where this is relevant, so I hope introducing this notation now helps familiarize you with it. If there's anything else I can change for extra clarity, feel free to let me know! I truly hope you can enjoy this fic just as much as a sighted reader can.

For anyone who is here from the old iteration of this fic, thank you so much for sticking around all this time. These 9 months have been fruitful, and I hope to have a somewhat regular posting schedule now that I've ironed out a lot of kinks in the world. That being said, I will be deleting the old version off of AO3 at some future point in time. It's riddled with inaccuracies, and I'd rather direct people to the new version. If you for some reason still wish to access the old version of this fic, they are still accessible here on Tumblr.

Finally, there will be content warnings in the notes of each chapter after a brief summary of the chapter. On Tumblr, these are above the read more cut. Normally it will just be the summary and the content warnings. I will try to tag as many warnings as I can think of and as I think is appropriate, and within reason, you may request for more warnings, but in general I ask that you read at your own discretion. This is not intended to be a light, cheery fic. Some sequences are intentionally written to cause discomfort. I am a full time college student writing this fic in my spare time, so please protect your own mental health if necessary by clicking out of my fic, whether for a breather or permanently.

Without further ado, let’s get into the fic.

—(Line breaker)—

The wastelands do not have much variety in terms of scenery, offering only mountains of sand everywhere they look. They pace around the deck of their sand glider again, blinking as the howling wind blasts rough sand directly into their eyes, and they grumble. They ran out of things to entertain themself with cycles ago. They should be used to the tedium by now, but the process of traveling never becomes more appealing.

Completing another loop around the deck, sliding their nail in and out of its sheath as they walk, they stop by the mast and fuss at the ropes. It’s tempting to simply turn their glider around. Not that they particularly enjoyed chasing after cochineals, but at least it was something to do instead of pacing around endlessly on their sand glider. They’ve been sailing straight for so long with no chance in scenery they have to question whether they’re actually heading anywhere.

As if in response, a burst of pain shoots through their right eye. They hiss, clutching their face as the pain runs its course, slowly fizzling back into the dull ache they’ve begrudgingly grown used to. It continues gnawing on their eye, an insistent irritation that lingers somewhere in the back of their eyeball.

Keeping their hand over their eye, they bang their head against the mast. They don’t have a choice. The Call—often a dull ache, sometimes a sharp, searing pain—makes sure of that. One cycle they’d gone to sleep fine, and the next they woke screaming in pain as their eye burned. Some cycles, the Call rages so intensely they can’t do anything but curl up on the ground, clutching their head as their eye threatens to evict itself from its socket.

Most cycles, however, go like this. They bang their head against the mast again, dropping their hands and crossing their arms, sulking. They don’t want to be here, but they’d rather their eye remain intact. 

If it had just been a simple pain, though, they’d likely have ignored it. But the Call… calls. Some cycles, they can feel it beckoning them, pleading for them to come. Sometimes it cries out for them in their dreams. They can’t be rid of it until they figure out what’s making them come here.

So here they are, sailing into nothingness. They bang their head against the mast a third time. The moment they figure this all out, they are leaving.

With a sigh, they busy themself with digging their map out of their pack. Slouching over it to shield it from the wind as they unfurl the delicate paper, they glare down at it, halfheartedly tracing their path so far with a finger. Though the Call is persistent, it’s not very specific, leaving them only a vague impression of which direction to go in. The last eight kingdoms they’d stopped in had not yielded any relief to the Call, and the only thing ahead now is, of course, Hallownest. Or rather, the Wyrm’s Jaws, but the other kingdoms in this area evidently were never relevant or people would endlessly chatter and whisper about them too. 

They cram their map back into their pack and cross their arms again, looking ahead to their approximate destination with a huff. Of course it had to be Hallownest. It couldn’t be some current, living kingdom they could enter, deal with the issue, and leave. _Obviously_ they had to go explore the entombed husk of a kingdom that also conveniently has horror stories about people never leaving its depths. That one. The one kingdom they’d hoped it wouldn’t be. 

They fiddle with the boom irritably, tightening the rigging, then set off on another lap around the deck, blinking hard as they face the wind again. They don’t particularly care for those stories, but it’s hard not to pay some heed to them. Years back, Hallownest had been a popular topic in treasure hunter circles. But all that talk about finding the lost riches and wisdom that Hallownest offered in its prime amounted to nothing, as one by one, the treasure hunters dropped off the map, never to be seen again after setting out for the lost kingdom. Now all they hear are the fearful whispers of their friends and family about Hallownest swallowing those who dare enter its depths, warning any aspiring explorers against journeying there.

Unsheathing their nail, they swing it idly as they switch to pacing back and forth along the rear end of the deck. They can handle anything Hallownest throws at them. They’ve dealt with worse. But it couldn’t hurt to be cautious about it; they’d be more eager to dismiss it if they hadn’t watched several envoys of treasure hunters setting off and never returning. 

The whole prospect of it all is ridiculous. Why go sticking your head into places it doesn’t belong? The vigor to find Hallownest’s riches only grew stronger after the first few groups of people went missing. Anyone still willing to go then was an idiot and got what they deserved.

They huff, swinging their nail in a wide arc and posing, holding their nail at the ready, at a nonexistent enemy. What a hypocrite they are, to be searching for the same thing the treasure hunters were seeking. But what’s the point of trying to scavenge through dead kingdoms? Kingdoms rise and fall constantly, so if they want something of worth, they should just loot their own kingdom and wait for it to die. 

After a few dozen more loops around the deck with them swinging their nail around the whole time, a hint of gray breaks out over the dull tan of the sands. “Sheer stone cresting the cowering cradles of sand,” they were told by the one vendor who had insisted on pestering them on why they were trading for fuel cores. It is at least an apt description; the dark stone rises rapidly, a looming presence even from this distance. They blink, the transparent film of their eyelids clearing sand out of their eyes. Contrasted against the dim sky, the Wyrm’s Jaws almost seem to be swallowing the landscape around them. 

Complementing the dreary landscape, the wind abruptly starts dying down; their sails go flaccid in the shifting breeze. They sheathe their nail with a grumble, stalking over to the mast and firmly readjusting their rigging to tighten the sails. The wood creaks as the fabric fills again, the headsail flapping as it struggles to catch the wind. Tugging on the halyard until it fills out, they tie the ropes back down as quickly as they can, yanking on the ends to secure them. They are not walking all the way to the Wyrm’s Jaws. They will row if they have to. 

The wind, spluttering and wavering, carries their glider to the entrance of the Wyrm’s Jaws before expiring completely. Their glider gently slides to a halt, listing lightly to one side. They sigh. This will have to do. Briskly dusting themself off, they vault over the side of their glider, landing in a slight crouch in the sand below. 

The sand is cool, uncharacteristically so, as it pools around their feet. Puzzled, they kneel to scoop up a handful of sand. It is the same temperature as if it had been sylark here for at least a harvest. Dumping the sand out of their hand, they dig their portable clock out of their pack and peer closely at the small contraption. It is syligh, says the clock, in the brightest part of the cycle.

Stowing the clock, they stand, staring up at the sky. It is almost as dark as sylark is in other kingdoms. Some kingdoms are naturally dimmer than others, but…

They push back the unease tunneling its way through their chest. They need somewhere to moor their glider, and their current location is too exposed to a wild gust of wind. There should be somewhere within the Wyrm’s Jaws where they can tie their glider down. Unfurling the bow ropes and tying them firmly around their waist, they begin trekking into the Wyrm’s Jaws proper.

Without the wind, only an eerie quiet accompanies them and their muted footfalls. They unsheathe their nail as they press onward, blinking every so often to keep their vision clear. They haven’t seen any living creatures around these parts since the last kingdom they stopped in, but it won’t hurt to be prepared. They wouldn’t mind having something to actually swing their nail at though.

The ground slopes gently downwards as they progress, and little pillars of stone begin rising out of the sand. They inspect one briefly, running their hand over it. It’s some sort of fossilized mouth segment—a tooth, if they recall the terminology correctly. The tip is smooth, blunted from the constant weathering, but from the way it bends they can tell it used to be sharp. The stone barely reaches the tips of their tibias, but as they continue wading through the sand, they grow taller and taller until the fossils loom over them.

The deeper they go, the dimmer it gets, the area becoming increasingly shaded. They blink again, straining to see the path ahead of them. There is some sort of structure up ahead, the outline of which is only barely visible in the shade. Hand clenching tighter around the hilt of their nail, they warily creep closer, lifting their feet higher to tread as little sand as they can manage.

Nothing greets them but splintered wood, which they discover when their foot lands on a stray scrap, and they fling their nail away from them at the sudden pain. Cursing and hopping backwards, they clutch at their throbbing foot, nearly falling on their tail as the sand shifts underneath them. They yank the splinters out with a few more expletives, then glare up at the culprit: an old, abandoned glider. It’s larger than their own, designed for a small crew, but is otherwise structured similarly.

The decay of the wood reveals its age, however, as well as the torn sails and the half buried deck. Some of the planks have fallen off too; they put their foot down and grope around in the sand, unearthing the loose piece of wood they stepped on for a closer look. Even in the dim lighting, the rot on the wood is evident, and the parts not buried under the sand show marked weathering not dissimilar to that of the stone tooth. Whoever this sand glider belonged to has not returned for it in a long time. 

They toss the plank back at the glider and retrieve their nail, sheathing it and dusting their hands as unease ripples inside of them again. Did this glider belong to one of those envoys they had watched set off? No one in their right mind would abandon their glider; they’ve seen people fight over them. 

They have also seen people deconstruct old gliders, prying off floorboards and fuel inserts and absconding to trade them someplace else. They can’t check the internal engine of the glider without more lighting, but from what they can see, this glider has simply been left here to rot, untampered by petty thieves hoping for an easy trade. Judging by the height of the mast and the tattered sails hanging from it, this used to be one of the fancier models too. So if no one has attempted to scavenge it…  

Shaking their head, they quickly step away from the broken glider and push onward, kicking up sprays of sand in their haste. It doesn’t matter. They’re only going to be here for a short while, probably less than a harvest. Worse comes to worst, they themself can scavenge from the wreckage for emergency supplies. 

Deeper and deeper they go, their sand glider gently creaking as they forge their way through the dark. They keep their nail drawn, both hands clasped around the hilt as they walk. Normally, silence doesn’t bother them, but something about how the lack of sound settles in this area makes their chitin itch. The Call doesn’t help; with each step, it pulses. They shake their head again in a futile attempt to rid themself of the pain.

Something scrapes loudly just as they do so, and they jump, whirling around to point their nail at the source. They only find their glider pressed up against a second, extremely dilapidated glider, groaning as it strains against the rotted wood. The rotted glider is barely holding itself together, parts of the below deck storage rooms bared to the world. They carefully maneuver around the contents of the storage rooms and an array of shattered planks as they make their way over to free their glider, stepping delicately to avoid gaining another splinter. There are crates, ones that likely used to contain food… They avoid looking at the ground as they lean on their glider and begin to push.

With a bit of exertion, their glider slides free, and they tug it away from the broken glider. They retie the bow ropes around them, huffing. They should pay more attention to where they’re going. This far out, they can’t easily fix their glider if something happens.

As they turn to continue, swinging their foot forward, their claws clank against something metal, and they freeze. Staring down at the ground for a few moments as their insides twist, they slowly bend down to unearth the object. With a gentle tug, they pull out an old fuel insert, the creaking of its hinges the only thing to cut through the heavy silence. 

They knew people had stopped coming here. For what it’s worth, they all eventually stopped trying. But this, of all things, should be easy pickings. 

And yet, here they are, with an old, unwanted, abandoned fuel insert. It’s old and battered enough that it’s now useless.

They stare down at it for a few moments, then fling it at the old glider, hot rage searing through them as the fuel insert crashes through several rotten planks. Why are they here? Why are _they_ here? If other people have come before them then why are _they_ the one who the Call targeted?

They kick one of the stray planks back at the glider and snarl as their foot throbs from the impact, and they crouch down to hold it, shaking in fury. They had to come all this way out into the middle of nowhere just to deal with this stupid Call that they can’t even get to shut up and there are _corpses_, remnants of people long gone and why are they _here_? All the travelers who came here for treasure and none of them could fix this issue? Why do they have to do this? Why are they the one that has to deal with this mess when it could be anyone else? 

They slam a fist against their own glider, then flinch as the wood creaks from the impact. They need to get out of here. The sooner they get this done the sooner they can leave and they won’t have to deal with it anymore. 

Hauling themself to their feet, they drag their glider with them into the dark, stumbling in their eagerness to move on. They’ll get it done quick. Get in, deal with whatever needs dealing with, get out. It’ll only be a few cycles. 

They trip when the ground underfoot abruptly becomes stone, their feet sliding on the remnants of sand. Throwing their hands out to catch themself, they fall against a pile of rubble, a few pebbles clattering to the floor as they steady themself. They crane their neck to search for the top of the pile; it stretches off into the gaping darkness above them. At a rough glance, the stone walls to either side are relatively unblemished. The ceiling or ceiling elements must have collapsed at some point in the past.

They have to leave their glider behind. They clench their hands into their cloak to stop themself from punching the nearest available object, and instead glance around for somewhere decent to park their glider. They’ll be back for it soon regardless, but they didn’t work two seasons for their glider just to dump it in the middle of nowhere. 

There is a tarp stretched over one of the corners made by the pile of rubble and the walls; they pull their glider with them to take a closer look. The attachments are smooth and relatively sand free, implying that it was a recent addition to this area. It is also positioned in a way to shield against the wind, with enough room behind it to easily fit their glider. It will do for a temporary parking.

They shove the tarp back and are greeted with the sight of not one, but two sand gliders parked underneath. Both are in good condition, though one is somewhat covered in sand. They kick sand at the nearest one with a hiss. They better not run into any of these idiots while they’re dealing with the Call.

Their glider just barely fits into the remaining space under the tarp, and when they’re done shoving it in, the tip of the bow still barely pokes out from underneath it. They halfheartedly push on it again, then give up, letting the tarp fall back into place. It’ll be fine. They’ll be back soon, and this deep into the Wyrm’s Jaws there isn’t a lot of wind. At worst they’ll be gone for just a harvest. 

Glider now situated, they confront the rubble pile again, testing their weight on it. Besides the top layer of smaller rocks, a few of which scatter as they hoist themself up and scrabble for footholds, it seems relatively sturdy. As long as they’re quick about it, they should be able to get to the top just fine. 

They scramble up the side of the pile, feet slipping out underneath them several times, but they otherwise make it to the top without too much issue. Still in a crouch, they crawl closer to the other edge of the stone pile and peer down below. It’s dark. They flick a pebble off the edge, listening for when it hits the ground. A good few ticks, more than they’re comfortable with, pass before they hear the muffled clatter. It’s a longer way down than up. 

They nudge another pebble off, trying to track how far down it travels. The darkness swallows it up almost instantly. They huff, tapping their foot. They don’t have another way of gauging how far down the ground may be.

At worst though, it’s probably only several times their height. Better to just get it over with. Bunching their muscles, they keep a hand on their nail to stop it from sliding out of its sheath as they leap into the dark.

The ground meets them sooner than they expect, leaving them no time to brace for the sharp stones that dig into their feet. Caught off guard by the sudden pain, they fall forward onto their hands, then jerk back with a hiss as the stones stab into their palms. Something like this always happens wherever they go and nothing can ever be simple and straightforward. Why do they even bother?

Dislodging the stones from their feet with a brisk scratch under each foot, they quickly weave their way through the field of stones to smoother ground. Their feet smart with each step they take, and they flex their hands as they walk, tail flicking in irritation. The Call is still here, pulling them forward still, and it’s stronger now. They must be getting close. They just have to—

Footsteps. Their nail is drawn in an instant, and they point it at the approaching speck of light. It hesitates, but resumes after a few ticks at a slower pace, bringing into view an old beetle. Their antennae quiver as they glance between them and the point of their nail, hands clenched tightly around their lantern. “Hello, traveler,” they rasp out, their voice low and measured. “What brings you here?”

“None of your business,” they sign back with one hand, their hand motions sharp and rough. They grip their nail tighter, gauging the beetle. They don’t look to be the owner of one of the two gliders they found, nor do they seem to be in any state to fight. Where did they come from, then? What sort of trick is this going to be? 

The beetle hesitates again, antennae whirling. “I… I apologize, traveler. Is that Trade Sign? I’m not too familiar with it. It’s been many years since I’ve had the opportunity to practice.”

They take a step closer, holding their nail up closer to the beetle, who backs away nervously. They’re not familiar with Trade Sign? What’s their ploy? If they’re this close to the entrance of the Wyrm’s Jaws they must have learned at least basic Trade Sign and they’re just lying about it.

Clutching the lantern closer to their chest, the beetle stammers out, “Most—most other travelers here prefer to speak, and I haven’t had the chance to really—to use Trade Sign since everyone else in the village left. They’ve all headed down below.” Their antennae droop. “There’s only me here now.”

They stare at the beetle, something deep inside them curdling. “You live here?” they sign slowly, spelling it out and emphasizing each letter.

“... yes.” The beetle slumps into themself, their palps quivering gently. “It’s not an unfair assumption, I suppose, to think that the Wyrm’s Jaws are gone. But I hatched here after its fall. There used to be more people living here, but…”

They stare at the beetle some more. Either this beetle is lying out their ass, or somehow, everyone was wrong. The Wyrm’s Jaws are not dead. Hallownest is not dead. 

Then what, or _who_, is calling them here? 

The beetle sighs. “You seem like you’ve traveled a long way. There is lots of room here, if you wish to rest a while.” They pause, palps flicking. “I’d enjoy the company,” they add quietly. 

They hesitate briefly, then sheathe their nail. For all their impatience, this beetle appears to be telling the truth. Their tail wags as unease pools inside of them; trying to stop their tail from moving only makes it congeal into a hard, cold lump that threatens to drag them to the ground.

“I’ll stay for a cycle,” they say, keeping their signs curt. “No more than that.” In spite of the twisting, scratching feeling inside of them, the idea of rushing in is giving them pause. 

The beetle’s antennae shoot up in clear delight. “Of course,” they say, their voice contrastively even. “Come this way.” Turning around in a shuffling walk, the beetle ambles into the darkness.

Left hand resting on their nail, they follow, keeping their gaze trained on the beetle’s back. While this beetle may be telling the truth, it’s hard to fully accept their words. Hallownest, still alive? If the kingdom is still running, let alone the whole kingdom cluster, it’s been over sixty-four years since it had imports. That just seems impossible. 

Silence trails them as the beetle leads them to a small hut, broken only by the rattling of the keys the beetle fumbles through. They clack softly as the beetle finds the right one and unlocks the door. Brushing past the beetle, they push the door open and glance around as they enter. The hut is spotless, almost unnervingly so. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” the beetle says softly from the entrance to the hut. “Food, healing salves, or other supplies.”

They make a halfhearted gesture over their shoulder as they walk towards the bedroom, shoving the door open with their foot and closing it in the same manner. As the door closes, all remaining composure slithers out of them, and they barely make it over to the bed before slumping unceremoniously onto it. Hallownest, _alive_? Why are they here? Them, of all people? How is it still alive? 

What mess have they been tasked to fix? Why Hallownest, of all possible messes to get stuck in? Why them? 

_Why them?_

They bury their face in the bed, squeezing it between their arms. It doesn’t matter. They’ll deal with it and go. If they have to fight someone, they’ll gut them as quickly as they can. It won’t be long. It won’t be that bad. It’s just another job. Just another thing to deal with and they can leave and never think about it again. It’ll be fine.

The Call thuds through their head as if in protest, and they push their face in even deeper. They don’t want to think about this. Come the next syligh, they’ll deal with this once and for all.

Though they aren’t tired, they stay glued to the bed, refusing to lift their head to face the world. Drowsiness blankets them before long, a welcoming change to the sharp wakefulness demanded by the Call’s stabbing pain. They allow themself to sink into it, slipping gently into sleep. 

Vaguely, through the haze of slumber, the Call continues, pulsing.

Next chapter: A Cry from the Dark

[allenvooreef]

How much time to you spend drawing? I want to draw more but can't seem to find the time with work and school 🫠

Most artworks take me anywhere between 3-8 hours to fully finish, but I never do all of that in one day. I also have a day job and a household to run, plus many other hobbies, so sometimes there's big stretches of time that go by when i dont draw at all. It's also something i just kinda have to be in the mood for. I can 'make' myself work on commissions regularly, but for my personal art i kind of depend on waves of inspiration that hit me after D&D sessions or getting really into a game or just randomly sometimes. For instance after last weekend, i grabbed my ipad to work on a commission, and after that i was suddenly overcome with mad art frenzy where i drew like seven different sketches and the setup for a bigger piece all in one evening because i was just so excited. 🤷 So for me, the time i spend drawing isn't steady enough to measure or average out for a day.

Evenings often work best for me to find a moment to draw, if I'm looking for one. Or when I'm on public transport for an hour or so. But the only time i really had a dedicated drawing time in my week was when i did regular Wednesday night livestreams. Those were nice to really get around to getting things done, though it's also nice to take a break from that for a while now.

Hope you find a way to carve out some time for art in your life as well! It's so important to have a way of self expression in your day to day, without it feeling like just another thing on your already overwhelming to do list. I'd also love to hear from other folks how they make time in their schedule for art or writing or other creative endeavors!

[bratprincedyke]

Yooo sorry if its a bit much to ask, how did you get into your tattoo role? I'm south uk and there never seems to be an opening to even show portfolio with area artists

Your work is so sick! Huge inspo 🙌🙌

Hey, I know it’s really hard out there in the tattoo industry but one positive about being in London or anywhere in south east England is that more and more DIY and queer owned tattoo studios are opening

I didn’t get into tattooing through the traditional route of an apprenticeship, I bought a tattoo machine and was taught basics by my partner and then developed upon that to be self taught at home, I used Instagram as a tool to build a following for my work and kept drawing and developing, the local queer community was INCREDIBLY supportive during this process, I’m thankful for everyone who came and got tattooed and paid me while I was still learning

through Instagram and getting tattooed by other artists I eventually made friends with the team at a chill queer owned studio and when they announced that they were looking for artists to guest I asked if they would consider me as I was self taught, they liked my work and invited me to come and tattoo as a resident artist, they were welcoming every step of the journey

The studio I work at DOES take on apprentices regularly, mostly on the basis of people who are friendly and ask and make a portfolio, it’s important to give opportunities and diversify the industry in terms of artists and unique style. Best thing to do in my opinion is either start learning DIY from home or find a place you would love to do your apprenticeship or an artist you want to learn from and make friends with them, become a regular client and ask lots of questions, ask them about whether they would be willing to teach you

One thing to remember is that whilst it’s standard for tattoo apprenticeships to be unpaid due to the fact that most tattoo artists are paid by their clients and NOT their studio, many studios treat their apprentices badly. You should be spending your time there learning to tattoo and working on your art, not cleaning somebody’s studio full time (obviously cleaning up your own mess and helping out being a team player is fine) be firm in your boundaries with this, and whilst it may be that the people teaching you can only work with you at certain times, you are also an adult with your own schedule and you have every right to be firm in this. Don’t take industry bullshit or anyone trying to take advantage of you or your time.

Very long text here hope it helps a little