#and also idk how to manage time so one thing I often find myself wondering is how would I fit these hobbies into my schedule

[deprivedofbraincellsandsleep]

wishing so bad that I was a great writer or artist rn

[fushiglow]

hi! newish follower here so idk maybe you've already answered here haha but do you have any hobbies outside of fic/fandom that you want to yap about? :)

Ahh welcome, and thank you for asking ♥️ I haven't answered this before actually, but I suddenly feel like I've never had a hobby in my life except for writing JJK fic, haha! Let's see...

Other than making music (which sits in a complex space in my mind and can't be neatly categorised as a "hobby"), most of the things I enjoy relate to wildlife! Conserving nature and promoting biodiversity are close to my heart and my personal life, so I'm very passionate about these topics and how they intersect with social justice.

In fact, I care so much that I sought out a career in this field, despite my previous professional development becoming useless as a result! Working in this area is very different to finding enjoyment in nature for myself. However, regardless of the difficulties my job brings, I love wildlife photography, I love gardening for wildlife, and I love getting involved with citizen science projects related to wildlife — usually in conjunction with one another! Over the last couple of years:

I've planted a tiny wildlife pond in a Belfast sink and watched it become a habitat for frogs, damselflies, pollinators, and lots of other creatures;

I've painstakingly established and maintained a tiny native wildflower meadow, and seen it support grasshoppers and birds and rare solitary bees;

I've re-landscaped my small outdoor space to create a highway for wild mammals and encourage natural predators of "pests" to the places I need them;

I've taken part in countless bird and butterfly counts throughout the different seasons, and learned to read the natural environment around me more intuitively in the process; and

I've taken lots and lots of photographs throughout, capturing rare species that I never would have spotted if I hadn't been looking in the first place!

It is genuinely the most rewarding thing to see wild animals and insects enjoying the fruits of your labour. I think it's also a balm for broader climate dread, because while individuals don't have the power to make a difference on a global scale, we can make a difference in our local area. It's a slow process, and it takes a long time and a lot of hard work to see results, but it's so worth it. I'd encourage everyone to take small actions for wildlife wherever they can, because the wellbeing benefits it brings are enormous!

Since I'm yapping about it already, I'm going to take this opportunity to make a few little PSAs about some common mistakes when it comes to helping wildlife:

Save the wild bees! Honeybees are essentially managed livestock, and do not need our help. They have humans to control disease, provide food, and defend the nest. Bumblebees and solitary bees have to fend for themselves, and commercial honeybee colonies in the area often outcompete them for the scarce resources they depend on. Take some time to research your local native wild pollinators and provide food plants specific to those species!

In general, sugar water for bees does more harm than good. It's much better to provide them with natural sources of nutrition from native flowering plants! Think of sugar water as a junk food snack and a garden of diverse flowers as a balanced, healthy meal!

Similarly, bird feeders should be handled with care. Watching birds using your feeders is wonderful and we shouldn't overlook the valuable nature connection the experience provides. However, it's always better to provide resources through diverse planting that offers food throughout the seasons. If putting out bird feeders, clean them rigorously and regularly to prevent the spread of disease, and research birds' changing nutritional requirements at different times of year so you can provide accordingly!

Um. I went from saying I have no hobbies to lecturing everyone about wildlife conservation. I wasn't joking when I said I'm passionate 😭 Thanks for the question, and I hope this was interesting and/or educational to someone at least!

[yurki-posts]

Do you have any oc?? :0

(Not talking 'bout ur persona, im asking like-- an oc or sssstory w ocsss?? lmao---) 👉👈💐

YEESSSSSS I DO!!!!! I have many, many ocs buuuut I lost the pictures of most of them and they don't have a real story yet- so imma just share some of them who I have pictures for and also a little of lore! (please god im begging for the guys in the discord server not to find this or im fucking dead)

Ocs under the cut! (It's quite long and messy so be prepared for lore dump in the second half because it's my personal favorite)

First we have my main oc and the first one I created all by myself! (which means without external help like a character maker or dress up game); Vinn!

(credits of the art to my irl bestie I luv ya!!!)

As you can see, they're a colorful ball. His desing is obviously based on Polandball/Countryballs, where the countries are balls with white eyes. Originally they were going to be their own countryball but I decided to use him as a persona for many years until Yurki came in ;)

Don't let their colors and cuteness foul you, they were banished to hell after burning down uncountable villages and forests. He was obsessed with fire in such a sick way, he was often called an arsonist (rightfully so) by the passersby.

Once in Hell, they lost most of their already damaged mind. They set Hell itself on fire and flames, and before he could reach the last corner of it, he was captured and kicked out of hell, and found himself in a new planet ready to be set on fire with their flamethrower, although it would bring many surprises he couldn't have ever imagined.

That's pretty much a summary of their lore. He loves fire (what a surprise!) and they are best friends with the element of fire of that universe. They don't have many abilities that aren't just advantages of being a ball, but he can breathe fire if that's something. Their story actually continues but it's all written in spanish so I doubt it's even worth to link it here lol.

_______________________________________________

And now...We have many here that I actually do want to work on but idk how to write lol

They're made in Gacha Life 2 if anyone wonders why they don't look drawn.

So in the pictures we have a couple of them, but I actually don't have names for anyone but the green one because I SUCK AT NAMES.

So... anyways the green one is Stunail. The Moth girl is his cousin who has social anxiety and the Butterfly is his older sister. The two dragons are caretakers of a botanical garden and they're friends with Stunail and his cousin.

In that universe, humans are mixed with bugs and other kind of species. There's no racism, but golly there is a lot of specism (discrimination against other species. Not to be confused with Speciesism. Yes I just made that first word out). There's special hatred towards "dirty" and "useless" species, such as Snails, Flies/Mosquitoes, Cockroaches, Rats, and a few more.

Some of them are banned in public spaces in the most specist regions (which are fortunately very few) and have a hard time getting employed, and if they do get employed they usually get paid less than a "normal" species. Some are seen as dangerous and scary, and others as a waste of air and useless to society.

Ofc it's not super obvious at first sight, but it's the subtle things that makes the specism stand out. Looking weird at them, sitting somewhere else if they sit next to you, put your children to play with a different kid in the playground, ignore if they're talking, avoid them if they're seen.

I'm unsure of what this story would follow, but I think it would be about Stunail proving the world that their and other hated species can be as capable and "normal" as any other species, and that they shouldn't be discriminated for their mere existence, and have the same rights as the rest of the species. Alongside Moth Girl's character development where she manages to, slowly, heal from her trauma and social anxiety.

Ohhh and here are some ✨side charaters✨ I also made

The only one with a name (again😞) is the mermaid, Merman! (although I might change his name because it's a little plain). The sheeps are twin brothers, the squid girl is an important administrator of the Eastern Ocean Empire, and Merman is the Monarch of the sea species in the Western side of this last mentioned Empire.

I plan for all of them to connect in one way or another to Stunail and his friends, but I still need to figure that part out "- -

Damn that was a lot of yapping. Hope whoever read all this liked it ^^ I appretiate any opinions about this last one specifically because it's something I actually wanna end up doing somehow.

(Please suggest names im begging on the floor rn)

[zarahjoyce]

MITD Fic: aftermath

Summary:

"Isn't it weird, Hyung?" Jun O tells his brother, just after they've eaten a particularly delicious dinner that Min O had prepared for him. "I felt like... I fell in love with someone without me falling in love with her. Like I miss her all the time but at the same time I don't and it's just--" He rubs his forehead and sighs aloud. "I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes."

or

Jun O, in the aftermath.

Notes:

I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT MOON IN THE DAY THAT I CAN'T STOP MYSELF FROM WRITING THIS... THING IDK.

now also with Ao3 link!

--

Protect Kang Yeong Hwa. I need to keep Kang Yeong Hwa safe.  Jun O finds himself often waking up in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, breathing hard. The thoughts beat in his mind like a drum, growing louder and louder until he's deafened by them. He drags his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, trying to keep his chest from bursting. 

Protect her from what? Why do I need to keep her safe? He doesn't hear any answer, however.

He never did.

And he's left wondering what that was all about for the rest of the night.

-

Min O notices the bags under Jun O's eyes, but never comments on them.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks instead.

No. I never do.

"You know, Hyung," Jun O quietly replies, playing around with his food without any urge to eat them, "I know I told myself that I wouldn't feel curious about--" 

He stops.

Kang Yeong Hwa. Even the mere thought of her name makes Jun O feel a deep sense of... yearning? Longing? For a woman he barely knew. 

Which is ridiculous, of course.

So, he just draws a deep breath.

And forces a smile for his brother's sake. 

"Never mind," he says instead. "What's my schedule for today?"

-

He finds that handling a sword came so natural to him, it felt like he's been doing it his entire life. Like it's an extension of his limb. Like cutting lives is something he did everyday. 

Don't even get him started on how ridiculously easy it was for him to hit a bullseye with an arrow - something he'd been awful at before. 

"Who knew I'd find sageuk dramas so easy to do?" Jun O muses out loud, patting himself on the back for a job well done - according to the director, no less. 

Manager Jang glances at him from the driver's seat. "Yeah," he says, and Jun O frowns at the odd tone of his voice. "Who knew." 

Dismissing that, Jun O gets his phone to scroll for articles praising his acting abilities - as they should - when he blurts out, "You're in contact with Kang Yeong Hwa, right? How is she?"

Thankfully, they were waiting for a green light, giving Manager Jang a chance to actually turn to him and say, "How'd you--"

"You're dating her friend, right? The one she thinks of as her sister. The one who owes her--"

And then Jun O shuts his mouth, and stares at his manager in horror. "I knew that? How do I know that?"

"T-that was what I was about to ask you," Manager Jang replies. "By any chance, do you actually remember--"

The car behind them honks its horn.

Jun O rubs his forehead.

"Drive," he orders Yoon Je. "Just... just drive."

-

By pure chance, his next project was about him being a firefighter. 

Jun O dreaded coming to the fire station. If only because that meant the possibility of coming face to face with--

Kang Yeong Hwa. And his heart skips a beat. 

Manager Jang must have noticed his obvious discomfort. "You know," he says, "if you're worried about seeing Kang--"

"Worried? Who said I'm worried? Are you worried? I'm not worried!" Jun O replies in rapid succession, scoffing all the while. "Why would I be--"

"She actually left yesterday," his manager continues. "For Antartica. So you won't be seeing her anymore."

Jun O stares at his manager.

"--oh," he says.

A beat.

"That's good," Jun O adds. "That she's... gone. That's good."

Except he felt like weeping. 

-

"Isn't it weird, Hyung?" Jun O tells his brother, just after they've eaten a particularly delicious dinner that Min O had prepared for him. "I felt like... I fell in love with someone without me falling in love with her. Like I miss her all the time but at the same time I don't and it's just--" He rubs his forehead and sighs aloud. "I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes."

Min O pats his hand. "Do you want to see her?" 

"No," Jun O replies quickly - which tells him that that was honestly what he was feeling. "No. It'll fade, whatever this is. I just need to bear it. I did beat cancer, of all things. I can beat this phantom feeling too." 

"That's right. Just persevere and you'll win." His brother smiles at him. "You're growing up, Jun O. I'm glad."

Except this didn't feel like growing up.

It just feels like he's lost.

-

But Han Jun O perseveres.

-

The next few years flew by in a hurry. Thankfully, Jun O's schedule had been packed with projects that he hadn't had enough time to mind anything else. 

Today, however, he's scrolling through his phone, browsing through the news to find anything related to him when he spots--

--an article about a miracle firefighter saving lives from a burning building - including a pregnant woman and her three children.

Kang Yeong Hwa, was the firefighter's name, written in bold print. 

And Jun O waits for that achy feeling that haunted him before to envelope him at the mere sight of it.

Except it never came.

Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember the last time he thought of her.

And even now that he is, Jun O doesn't at all feel... overwhelmed. 

Just... happy. At the thought of her living her life and saving lives in the process. 

He sighs and smiles in relief.

I'm free of you, Kang Yeong Hwa. Finally. Guess this means I win.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

Tysm @forestcat000 for giving me an excuse to talk about my targ ocs :))

Tw, brief mention of cannibalism at the end, also these are the twintargcest mfers so keep that in mind (though I don’t support any variety of targ or incest generally)

Elaena and Aenar are both twin children of Alicent and Viserys. I’m not entirely sure where in the order of children they’d fall, but they wouldn’t be first.

Aenar is very separated from doing literally anything ever. Nothing interests him aside from dragon riding, so he spends the entire time dragon riding, or terrorising people. He never gets involved with politics, even when he’s being forced into it. Elaena is a lot more involved, though she is more of a pawn. She’s used just to get the family what they want, and she’s kind of danced around because she’s pretty, and does everything she’s ‘meant’ to do, and is basically the portrayal of a ‘perfect’ Targaryen woman in that sense. Mostly her position is to just try and make Rhaenyra’s claim look weaker by playing to the whole idea that Rhae’s not acting as women ‘should’.

El is pretty closed off, so her interactions with other characters are quite limited. She does obviously go out to play a persons when she’s needed to, but other than that, she keeps to herself. She’s closest with Aenar, he’s her twin brother and her lover it would be expected, but there is a lot of tension there. Aenar likes to torment, and he can take it a little too far. She tends to be very cautious around him because of it, but she’s also very tender and caring. With her mother, she can be very similar, though mostly because she really cares about Alicent thinks of her. Most of what she does, she does because her mother asks if of her. She is also married to one of my other ocs, Cevan, and they’re very sweet together. They don’t talk much, but they do spend a lot of time in eachother’s company and he can be very loving. She doesn’t like how little she finds herself able to reciprocate his behaviour, but he never expects her to apologise for it. Aenar just bullies everyone. He’s an asshole and like I’m not going to pretend he isn’t. He’s nicest to Cevan just because he can’t get away with it with him. And no matter how much he pushes back against it, Cevan is also very sweet towards him. Cevan just loves him some twins idk what to say.

Aenar and Elaena actually share a dragon. I think I spoke about it briefly in another post?? Of their dragon eggs, one of them died and the other hatched deformed. They were sure it was going to die, but reptiles with Bicephaly (two heads) can survive and live full lives, so it didn’t. Both managed to bond with an individual head, but El bonded with the more dominant head, so technically her bond with the dragon is stronger. They named each head, with Aenar calling his Vermeys and Elaena calling hers Balerul. It’s all black, and rather large for its age as each head eats enough for one. Because I like my dragons to be special little princesses. Vermeys likes to torment mice and other small animals, whilst Balerul tends to have a stronger dislike towards people. Balerul is often muzzled for incidents with biting, and has scars across her neck from Vermeys tormenting her whilst she can’t defend herself.

I do want Elaena to have a form of magic, or at least something peculiar about her. But I honestly don’t trust myself enough with Got magic to give her any right now. But I’m reading the books so let’s hope they give me some semblance of an idea how to deal with it because El would have magic. Just… she would. She’s wonderful. She deserves it.

As for dragonlike traits, idk if you meant like physically or personality wise because I’m mentally like just fucking stupid. But the closest I can think of off the top of my head is that Elaena has some weird little envy thing where she kinda wishes she was born a dragon and so… goes out of her way to act like one. Plus she eats people because she saw Balerul eat someone and wanted to know what it tasted like… so… if either of them has Dragon-like traits, it’s el.

[gayspock]

yeh last one

my honest truth is i have never gone back on a thought ive had during whatever the fuck you want to call my little Moments as it were. like ive never had a screaming, crying, throw-up fit about how much i really need to hurt myself and looked back on it and thought i dont any more or regretted feeling like that. idk. embarrassment over the fact i might , when lucid enough to do so, end up going on a little whinge on here (ironically as iam now). cuz god shut up. but i dont rlly take any of that shit back ever. like i can carry that certtainty fucking with me that nothing ive ever been upset over has been something ivve come to think otherwiseon. and idk idk i say this bc idk. something something. i think abt how so often its like yeppp its a mental breakdown, but fucking is it. like is it actually. is it ever. am i irrational. i feel like the only ways in which its truly irrational isthinking it mattered enough to get that worked up in the first place like its ever going to mean something or going to be different . io genuinely wonder how many hours ive spent of my life just spiralling how its never meant anything how it keeps just getting worse how its never going to matter how much it hurts to anyone at all but me, really, how amny times have i been to the brink or tried really hard or done any number of fucking things and its never made a single difference not even slightyl for so so long. and the only thing there is between that and this is jsut pushing it forward to tomorrow and it sitll doesnt help im still not like a fucking person or whatever . i ts just been non fucking stop it never fucking stops no matter what i do or try or how long i do something or try something and people wont even believe it . youre not doing it enough youre not trying enough and you keep on doing it you keep on but more and more doors shut inyourface and you still can neverjust find anything . anything at all. not a single fucking thing even for once and youre not astrong fucking person or whatever i dont fucking know you just want to curl up and die like why do i keep doing this what difference is it ever going to make where am i going im going nowhere and who for who fucking for for ME i dont tink ive ever been worth it to anyone and certainly not to myself and even if it was i cant get anywhere and i dont think i mean anything and i dont know i keep thinking would it happen if like even/ for second to have something thats worth it for a second like o if i wasnt entirely alone if it was real if something jst. it doesnt even have to be a passion ro an interest just something that isnt fucking nothing butif you had that you wouldnt be here in the first place . thats the conceit of it. im not fucking depressed im not fucking clinically unwell im jsut a fucking useless piece of shit and no i cannot fucking cope with that its fucking horrible theres nothing and i cant manage it i cant manage being alone every wakinghour of my life i cant imagine feeling so isolated and alienated and doing things on my own i cant manage the constant fucking failures and inadequacy i cant

and i think . respectfully its fucking reasonable to want to killmyself because why why why the fuck would i want to be alive thats not a fucking chemical imbalance wat is the fucking point and theres nothing you can fucking Say to unfuck that thats the natural fucking rejection that respectfully everyone else can also fcking understand because god knows i dont know i dont know whats wrong with me or why i just cant do enough to do anything i dont fucking know i dont know why im never enough for anythingand . and what ma i trying oto prove and i dont know why it matters i dont know why i keep caring as if it fucking matters, man, thats the embarrassing thig that really is it i feel so fucking ashamed of myself because i feel liek im still setting ym expectations so so fucking hgih for myself getting upset in the fucking first place lik e come on dude its long long long past the point why come on just shut up and you know like god what are you doing iits so fucking desperate and pathetic to keep fucking going and i wish i never existed or whatever i wish or whatever ugh or whatever who saidthat oh was it me i dont fucking know i hat ebeing alone thats what i hate the most i hate how its just alwayslike this i hate being near people sometimes i hate fucking talking to people because it justfeels like everything i cant fucking manage all of the time i keep getting so so fucking upset over dumb fucking shit getting so fucking sad and jealous and miserable and its not fucking fair i jsut i dont know why eveyrone else has had something or someone even jsut once i feel like im just floating through everyone and even thats such a fucking stretch i just . i cant do it any more i feel so ugly adnd unwanted and i feel like i cant do anything to ever help it i feel like i jsutcant blamepeople i can tblame anything but myself for existing and ijust feel like the only way to fix it is out and WHATEVER

[macawritesupdates]

Hey you wrote my prompt for the court of vipers sequel! Thank you!!! I loved it so much it was beautifully written ❤️ 💖 💕. You did a wonderful job bringing the idea to life. Oh my goodness, it became so much more than i ever could have hoped. I feel like just seeing how you take prompts and expand them into full chapters and interweave lore into the narrative in a way that feels natural and not like boring exposition is soo cool I almost feel like a better writer by proxy just by reading your work. I had given up on being a writer myself for a while but idk something about seeing how you do it makes me want to try again. OK gushing about the way you do things done now on to the actual chapter, loved seeing Sukuna's morning routine she's great and I loved toji adding himself to the narrative 😀 I think that's why he kept appearing in cannon jjk so often that man wants to be written lol. I loved Yuuji being a good boy and solving people's problems while completely unaware of all the assassination attempts. Oh my boy, thank goodness you have Sukuna, your scary wife has your back. Man putting the failed assassins in the garden of the people who sent them is hard core Sukuna does not fuck around or rather Sukuna fucks around so much that it loops back around to being serious and all her enemies get to find out. It was great to see Sukuna casually stopping the attempts but damn i did feel a little bad for that poor servant. Those nobles must have been so terrified sitting through that meal knowing that she knows they tried to kill her husband. Aww the end scene was both funny and hot like damn. Awww wait Sukuna wants him to stay in bed with her a little later thats so cute. I do love seeing Sukuna in an environment where she gets to use her extreme murderous intelligence for good it's like enrichment for her. She's like a wild tiger she needs to hunt and protecting Yuuji gives her the opportunity to do that without any guilt or self hate over being just a monster because she's doing a good thing by keeping him safe. She's got terrible claws and teeth, but she's putting them to good use she may not be a traditional hero but without her the real sunshine hero would definitely get murdered. Who would have thought the best way to get Sukuna to stop being a calamity on the land would be to give her a cute little husband and let her loose on his enemies. She's focused, she's happy, and she's getting laid all the time. She doesn't have time to mess up some random village she's already juggling so many scemes and making good on all these covert threats while trying to get her and her husbands throne back. Man Sukuna benefits from this marriage as much as Yuuji those two really are perfect for each other. They balance each other out so well her greatest strengths are his greatest weaknesses, but the reverse is also true. So long as they have each other for support they can thrive and be happy in a way that they just could not manage on their own. He has too much compassion and good will but she'll protect him and prevent him from giving too much so he doesn't burn out. Meanwhile she gets to bask in that good will more than anyone else which let's her have all the love she was denied growing up, love given freely to her just because of who she is. She is not unlovable but it takes someone uniquely kind and strong and stubborn like Yuuji to really give her what she needs. Basically both of them are super super lucky. Anyway great work as always!!

I always say keep on writing! It is a good way to relax and it took me many years to let go of tying my worth as a writer to comments/kudos/subs/ect. It is a hard habit to break, but doing so, I feel your art just gets more your own voice! Also glad you enjoyed the chapter! Sukuna seems to behave if he is given the enrichment to be awful in contained situations XD He just wants to be a violent bastard, let him have room to cook! Sukuna will get Yuuji his throne back, one way or another, then gleefully protect it for sure XD

[dumpdaily]

No one was there for me as a kid. I was isolated beyond belief. Bullied in school. The cops wouldn't help me. Nothing. I was turned into a problem child even though I was doing my best to do what people wanted. Pedo shit seemed like the only way I would get any acknowledgement of my existence. Then I got too old.

I had betrayals that seemed almost comical. As an adult I didn't find any support or anything really. I really don't know what to believe or anything. It wasn't until my last relationship that I really learned what love felt like. The first time I've really smiled was with him. But he's dead now.

I had to fight for everything. I was trying my best to be better. I was trying to make new friends. But it's been over a decade now of trying my best. I never really drank alcohol or did drugs or did anything bad for the most part. But I never learned how to live either. I still don't know what I'm allowed to do in a lot of ways.

I love my grandparents but they were busy with work 24/7 until the past few years. Also no one wants to believe that their kid is a bit of a piece of shit. It's hard to feel close to people who defended someone who hurt you so deeply but I understand it. They care about me but it's hard for me to feel it.

No matter what I do it seems like there's no way to work around the damage that's been done. I was really struggling with my physical health already but with losing the person who I was just starting to accept actually loved me. Idk. I just want to be done with it all.

I still wonder how much of anything was real. My abandonment issues are even worse than before. I think I might've been okay if I had managed to make some friends before this all happened, but I didn't. I do have 4 friends but all of them have lives and I don't get to talk to them very often.

I don't have anyone to talk to. Just in general. But I can't handle talking to strangers rn. Trying to reach out to form new connections is incredibly painful because most people don't like me. I thought about trying to stream again on twitch but no one cares so I'm just talking with myself.

I'm exhausted from having tried so hard for so long. Hoping for things to change. I kept going from shit situation to shit situation but different. And when I finally got things into a good situation, I lost my ability to walk. I lost my job. My legs were basically my lifeline because I could always walk away before. Now I was trapped. I was only just starting to recover from it all when the person I love died.

So now I don't want to put the effort into getting better. Why bother. As soon as anything good comes, it gets cursed. There's no time to enjoy it. And I'm painfully aware of how much worse everything could be. At least I'm not being drugged or trafficked or whatever. I can easily imagine much worse positions to be in.

I'm scared that reincarnation is a thing. Physically speaking I got relatively lucky in this life. To my knowledge I haven't even broken a bone. Emotionally however I was cursed with no connection. Until much later in my life and then it was torn from me. I think I'd take the physical pain and have people to bond with if I could.

It's too late for me now. I've been so thoroughly annihilated. It would take another miracle to save me. I've already had too many miracles in my life. I've already survived too many times. 25kg is something I hold onto to remind me that it was real. You can see it in the pictures. I just wish I could afford peace. I want to be free. But yet I keep living.

[earlgreytea68]

Do you see yourself getting “done” with writing fic or musings about FOB anytime soon? I’m a fan of your fantastic writing from your Sherlock days, and nearly died of glee when you found FOB as they’re my longtime favourite band. In much the same way I tried to steel myself in the lengthy post-M A N I A years for the possibility of no more new FOB, I’m steeling myself against the possibility you’ll find a new preferred fandom…either way, I love your thoughts and the words you use to share them.

Awww thank you so much! I'm so glad that I managed to tumble from Sherlock into a fandom you loved! I feel like most of my poor readers just get dragged from place to place with me!

I can honestly never predict, like, when I'll feel "done" with a fandom. With Doctor Who and Sherlock, the shows did it for me, by finally annoying me enough that I didn't really want to write in them anymore. But I have no idea why I got "done" with Inception. Like, it's not like anything *happened.* Inspiration is unpredictable for me. Tbh, I hate it. Like, when I'm loving something and I'm loving writing something, I want to just keep it just like it is forever. I hate anticipating a time when I won't feel like writing it anymore. Tbh, this is why I write so much and so quickly. I always feel like I'm writing against a ticking clock and I have no idea how much time is left on it, and can I make sure that I get everything out before I lose interest? In a little bit of fairness to me? I think? I don't feel like I switch fandoms all that often. Like, once I get in one I tend to settle down and stay there for a while. But i never have any idea how long the stay will be and it's as distressing for me in its own way as it is for all of you!

Right now I'm enjoying FOB so much and that's really nice so I'm just letting myself enjoy it. And I miss writing them a lot a lot, since I'm supposed to be editing so I'm not allowed to write, and I want to write them so badly. So that's a good thing and I hope it stays that way, I really, really, do, I really WANT it to. Honestly, it's nice to have the album cycle underway and this band actually, like, doing stuff? That's been nice and energetic hahahaha

I will say, though, because I'm procrastinating editing but I'm not allowed to write anything new, I've been procrastinating by reading over my old stuff, and I saw a Tumblr post about fics where one of the characters almost dies and inspires confessions of love, and I was like, "That's how Lucky starts," so I just re-read Lucky and...Lucky is so good! hahahah I know it's obnoxious for me to say about something that I wrote but I read it and was like, Arthur and Eames are *lovely* together, what a sweet and lovely story, there was really no reason for me to grow tired of writing them, except that I did, Idk. Just inexplicable sigh, my whims.

Incidentally, I was struck by how much Arthur and Eames are very much NOT Pete and Patrick. Like, I was trying to imagine Patrick keeping Pete alive if he was hit by a bullet during a deal gone wrong in Nicaragua and I was like, ...yeah, Patrick couldn't pull this off, Patrick's no Arthur lollolol. Good thing Eames was with Arthur and not Patrick. Really, when I wrote that Inception/FOB crossover, it would have been absolutely hilarious imagining how terrible Pete Wentz would have been at dreamsharing, no wonder I made him the client instead lol (Also, is Pete, like, actually BOTH Arthur and Eames? Like, both the flirty ridiculous character AND the incredibly competent character????)

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Hi, TW for neglect, mentions (vague) of childhood abuse

I was wondering if you have any advice for learning how to not neglect yourself/getting used to the outside world? I grew up very isolated and managed to move away, but I can't afford school and my work hours (very isolated, usually left 100% alone) keep me very busy.

Especially with the pandemic (stuck 2+ years alone with my questionable parents with no outside contact) I don't have much experience with the outside world and how people treat each other and expect to behave. I try my best but I often get triggered in crowds and also have this weird thing where I give off an uncanny valley effect (never was able to make friends and the closest thing to family I have don't like being near me because of it).

I also have found that without the motivation of fear of parentals, I really don't care much about myself. I find it really hard to eat (most of the food I buy (I don't buy much) goes bad), it's dark by the time work is over so going out carries the risk of being attacked (depending on where you are, plus there's no where to go since most places are closed by the time I'm off work).

idk sorry if this is a bit rambly. I'm just really lost, I have no one I can ask advice from, my closest friend is busy and told me that "because I've lived through so much she'd never worry about me because I can withstand anything", and I honestly miss living with my parents because even if they weren't the best and they did things that hurt me at least I know how to behave there. Like I know the rules and I know what's expected of me.

Thanks for any advice you may give, hope you have a good day

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through.

Something I hear you saying is that a part of you misses living with your parents even if they hurt you because at least it would be more familiar. It's quite common for trauma survivors to want to go back to an environment that was unsafe for them because for them it almost feels more safe than the situation you're in now where you may feel lost and confused. But it's also worth considering which may cause you more harm in the long run.

I also don't think it's quite fair for your friend to say that you can withstand anything, because while you are incredibly strong, you are human as well, and it's natural for things to bother you. These two things can coexist.

I found some helpful tips on practicing self-care through small gestures. I also thought that this article had some helpful suggestions on working on self-care. That being said, working through these things are much easier said than done. If you can access or afford it, and if you don't already have it, I recommend looking into getting a therapist. A mental health professional could help you navigate this further.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[northropi]

Further Character Design Rambles

I was just thinking and... Look I gotta get this off my chest because every day there's just something that makes switches what I consider my prevailing design, even for a bit. It's definitely something I've come to terms with, but still decidedly view as a problem to be mitigated, that my perception of self in regards to stuffing everything to a sona is, at best, rather fragile and, at worst, extremely impressionable.

Currently robot is winning if we go by what I think is the best measure, the one that I guess I think about more often. The Robot design has, I suppose, captured my imagination much more effectively. But that changes the instant I see a Dragon or a Dinosaur or a cool bird or a fkn Halloween decoration, if only for a little while. Like, what can I say? That design was cool too, but I think I'm moving on.

My concern, then, is if I'm just gonna always be moving on, over and over.

If this has always been a vain effort, that people are too complex to be expressed by fitting a set of themes to them, and crafting a vessel around it

To pour into this pretty little jar the ethers of their passions and their feelings and immerse them into it, what feels warm to them, what feels soft. It's a beautiful thing, but every time I've settled into one, I found myself wanting more- and quickly it all spills out.

I tell myself it's not just me being greedy, and the scary thing is that I think I'm being honest. I don't think I can just let go of some of these. Maybe I'll never be able to fit it all, and maybe I'll never be satisfied with what I can fit.

But two jars? I've seen some people manage it, but there's caveats for each one. Methods of interconnection and separation that themselves turn me off of the idea. They're good ideas, don't get me wrong, but the idea of moving from one to the next so quickly is simply unappealing to me. I've seen people explicitly set aside jars to suit their more auxiliary needs after filling the first, sometimes finding them to equalize in significance later- some make myriad jars, each one ever so slightly different, such that moving between them is painless. However, this is itself a factor in the jar that is not to my taste, as canonizing this fluidness or relationships between characters runs against a lot of what defines mine. Likewise I have to wonder if at some point those who dart from one jar to another and back again will eventually find one to settle in that they like the best, retroactively turning the lesser-used one into a trial run no different from my spirals of conceptualisation.

Still more seem almost blind to the significance of the jars to themselves as people, assembling something that is appealing, and another, and another- but none of which are truly "them." I'm no stranger to putting together jars for the sake of it, but to leave room in a jar for yourself only to fill the rest with things alien to you? That's not how I seem to work. That is, of course, the difference between a sona and a character, and in Northy, I want a single, satisfying, long-term if not lifelong example of the former. Will I be able to achieve that?

For most of the day lately, it feels like I have. But then it cracks, just a bit. Doubt is scary when you have to work this hard to even tell what you've got. And as I've strayed more and more from what I had before, I feel like I've betrayed myself, even these shells of myself that exist in my head, and to a slight degree even my friends- and would it inconvenience them if I were to back out of a decision?

look idk sometimes i wanna keep laying my scaly body on beds of treasure in a seaside cave but also i think tinkering on my mechanical form in a broad expanse of beautiful desolation is more at the heart of my vibe.

[mithliya]

i feel so bad for you with the callouts about you faking being a lesbian bc of posts you made when you were a young teen

i just found writing from when iw was 12 of me pretending to like men and it hurts so much and its so fucking stupid it was kind of like your old posts at least it was completely private

the way it was written was like me trying to force myself to feel those ways and i even remember researching like most attractive man ever to try and find a guy to act like i was attracted to all while looking at them and feeling nothing at all... and id search for like hours trying to find a boy that i felt anyting for to pretend to wajt as a boyfriend.... i never even found one! my friend told me maybe i was 'aesthetically gay'when i was like "soo im totally straight but i do not find any men attractive at all"

i just have no idea how i didnt realize earlier i wasnt attracted to men with all that bfjdmfjd

i feel u 😭 the wildest part is that post was made to paint a certain image. there’s no emphasis on the posts being primarily from 2013-2014. nothing highlighting the fact that i was literally like 14-16 in ALL of the posts (and that the person who was calling me out is calling 15 year old me a whore / slut for what r obviously jokes. if i as a 15 year old managed to have sex 500 times with 420 men while in an long distance “relationship”… wouldn’t that be indicative of something rly insidious? like they’re obviously not legitimate numbers & were me exaggerating ridiculously bc i didn’t want to answer such questions. i didn’t know if my rapist / rape counted. i was dissociated through a lot of it). the wildest part is she intentionally ignored all the posts highlighting what ive been saying: i was literally on substances a lot of the time when in that guy’s vicinity. i considered him a friend and didn’t want a relationship but then gave in after he kept insisting we were together & facing other pressure and he was giving me substances to get my guard down & be able to do things to me. i even made posts back then saying “idk if i like guys at all or if im into girls or if i like anyone” and talking about how i don’t understand attraction and don’t feel love. i talked about the guy making me cry all the time (& would then downplay it and act like i cry over everything) and there’s hints that i was attempting suicide and on sedatives the day our “relationship” started (which was the day he decided we were in a relationship. i repeatedly said i don’t want it) and drunk + had repeatedly tried to kill myself the day i lost my virginity (if that even counts. maybe the time i was raped is when i lost it? who knows.). and when asked why i won’t leave or when id defend him it’s almost always “he’s the only person who’s there for me” “im scared”… never “i love him” or “im attracted to him” or anything of the sort. i was baffled going thru the blog bc i didn’t realise there were so many hints that it was unwanted. etc etc etc. no wonder when i finally ended it and refused to back down (had to do it repeatedly for like 6 months) he immediately said “is it bc you’re a lesbian?” 😐.

also yeah sadly the only diff between me and the Real Lesbians trying to argue im lying about my sexuality is that their closeted shenanigans isnt available for everyone to look at and analyse and pick apart. their trauma isn’t there on display for people to call them liars and partake in abuse apologism with. but this whole thing has only confirmed to me that my truth remains my truth & my story. it was pretty upsetting seeing how i was somehow so aware of my lack of attraction to men but so in denial of it at the same time. and it made me realise that that whole portion of my life might’ve been even worse than i remembered. i remember the suicide attempts but i didn’t realise how often i was out of it.

ALSO anon that’s such a mood. i did a lot of the same stuff 💀

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

masterlist | wattpad | part two | part three | part four | part five

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hi slug! I'm quite new to your blog, but I couldn't help but be curious about the answer to doing your bachelor's in 2 years while working full time. It just blows my mind! As someone who is hardworking but stresses over stuff constantly, it really amazes me that you managed to do that. You said u are the exception to the rule of taking time off and all that, but I'm curious to know what your mindset is. Like, for me, I stress more about the idea of what I have to do and the result of what I'm doing, and I have a lot of anxious subconscious thoughts about not having enough time, or that I'm not doing as much as I could be doing (I've been dealing with some serious burnout for a while now too). I was wondering if you could explain how you approach your workload? Idk maybe this is too personal and abstract, but I'd love to know about your mindset.

🌸Anon

Hello, flower anon! I'll put this under another cut for length since I kind of rambled.

Sure, I don't mind talking about it. For starters, it's not that I don't take time off, but that I don't usually schedule full days off. I deal with anhedonia - the inability to feel pleasure from "fun" activities - pretty frequently, and because of that, it's often hard for me to find downtime activities enjoyable. However, I still get a little kick of satisfaction every time I finish a job, so I usually try to frame downtime activities in terms of tasks. For example, I might assign myself the task of reading a chapter in a favorite book or completing a quest in a video game. That way, even if anhedonia is kicking my ass, I'll still feel good about it when it's done. I try to picture my day as a constant string of activities, so when my energy is low, I'll give myself an easy, low-priority task. This could be something legitimately productive - folding laundry while listening to music, sorting files, alphabetizing books to be put away, reading background knowledge material for a translation job, etc - or a "fun" task like talking to a friend, reading a book, or playing a game.

In terms of work itself, I try to approach it as a structure that I can use to prop my life up with. I try to be careful to avoid workaholic thought patterns, since I've struggled with that before and ended up extremely distressed. Instead, I treat it as a low-stress, flexible grid with lots of little pieces whenever possible. I know hard deadlines stress me out, so I make guidelines for myself that can be shifted around if need be. (Granted, there are hard deadlines for certain things, such as job assignments, but I always set the guidelines to have them completed well before the employer appointed due date, giving me that wiggle room if I need it.) I also know that I don't usually do well when I try to do the same thing for hours on end or when approaching huge tasks, so instead I break things down into lots of small chunks and do a little each day. For instance, every day this week, I'll make sure that I do one or two things from each of the following task items:

Translation assignment 1

Translation assignment 2

Translation assignment 3

Japanese self-studying

Errand (could be grocery, getting meds, tutoring a student, whatever)

Personal chore (tidying my room, laundry, cooking for myself, washing my own dishes, etc)

Household chore (cleaning the floors, cleaning a bathroom, etc)

Exercise

Daily hygiene requirements

Hypmic (answering asks, TLing miscellaneous crap, cleaning up blog, etc.)

Fun/social (chatting with friend, reading, going out to get a cold drink or a snack, etc)

The order these things happen in and the time they take can totally vary from day to day depending on what particular needs I have and how much energy I have. Today it went like this:

Translation assignment 3 (5:30 am - 7:00)

Breakfast (7:00 - 7:15)

Translation assignment 1 (7:30 [I was talking with someone for a couple of minutes before I got back to work] - 11:00) This one went on for longer since I was editing a big chunk of text, but it doesn't always take this long. Again, it varies!

Run (11:00 am - 11:45 am)

Hygiene stuff + misc exercise (11:45 am - 12:15 pm)

Went out to get lunch and a caffeinated tea since I wanted to make sure I had enough energy for an appointment in the afternoon. Also read during lunch (12:15 pm - 1:00 pm)

Japanese self-study (1:00 pm - 2:00 pm)

Cancelled the appointment [long story] and instead worked on translation assignment 2 (2:00 pm - 4:00 pm). At the moment, I'm just doing reading for it, so I saved it for later in the day when I tend to be more tired. Also did laundry here since that's another easy task.

Went to the store to buy more cleaning supplies and other household crap (4:15 pm - 6:00 pm)

Made dinner and cleaned the kitchen (6:00 pm - 7:00 pm)

Translation assignment 2 (7:00 pm - 8:30 pm)

Answering asks and talking with friends (8:30 pm - 10:00 pm)

If you're counting the hours I spent working on job assignments themselves, this would be 8.5 hours which I think is somewhat longer than what's typical. But again, it's not sitting down for 8.5 hours straight because I struggle with that and don't like doing it. Instead, I break tasks up and move things around so I can accomplish enough that I feel fulfilled while still enjoying my time here. Also, even if that looks like just a little bit of each thing, at the end of the week I'll have:

Translated and edited between 40,000 - 50,000 Japanese characters

Completed 10+ chapters of textbook work for Japanese self-study

Kept on top of my household errands and chores

Ran between 1.5 - 2 hours

Managed my daily body upkeep

Probably called friends a couple of times, read all or most of a book, and played a few hours of a game

I do these kinds of things and approach things in this task-based mindset because it's what I've found works best for me. Since I know I struggle with a lot of basic things like executive function, feeling pleasure from downtime activities, speaking out loud, etc - I build systems for myself to let me live a happy, healthy lifestyle on my own terms. I don't think this sort of lifestyle is necessarily applicable to everyone, but it doesn't have to be. It's something I created within the definitions of my disability and my capabilities.

So with all that being said, I can't prescribe something that will magically apply to your life, but I highly encourage you to experiment to find things that work best for you. Obviously, when I was working full-time while in school, the tasks I had were usually much more important, but I still followed the same general format of treating each day as a series of small, movable tasks. Whatever frameworks you choose to create can apply to the busiest or the most relaxed of lives.

In your situation in particular, flower anon, I understand how you feel with those anxieties. If you're stressing over what you have to do and find it overwhelming on a daily basis, you probably need to find a way to reduce your workload. Chunking - the process of breaking big assignments into smaller tasks - tends to help with anxieties when assignments seem too large and unapproachable.

It's challenging to fight back against the thoughts that you could be doing more than what you're already doing. But at the core of it, isn't this a silly argument? Every minute of your life, you're doing something. You're working, or you're learning, or you're sleeping, or you're eating, or you're playing with your friends. How are you supposed to do more than that? What, are you supposed to pull a 25th hour of the day out of your ass? Value your time, especially the time you spend resting and taking care of yourself. It's good to enjoy resting, and it's good to enjoy working as well. These are all parts productive elements of life. When you sleep, you are producing a rested mind to give yourself a better day tomorrow. When you talk with your friends, you are producing happiness and fulfilling social needs for yourself and other people. Physically reminding yourself - I mean saying out loud, "I am being productive as I do x" or "Y is a valuable use of my time" - for every thing you do can help you mentally reinforce this concept. And what happens if you discover non-valuable uses of your time? Engaging in petty arguments that don't bring yourself or anyone else any value, spending time scrolling on your phone without enjoying it, taking a class or activity just because you feel like you should but not enjoying it or earning anything from it - then drop it from your life, because your time is much too precious for you to spend it unhappily and unproductively. Produce for yourself a better life whenever you can, as long as the definition of "better life" is one that you decide for yourself.

This is a very rambling, abstract answer, but I hope it is some help to you. Best of luck.

[alexaplaysgames]

Can you do Felix and Mc getting into a fight

My angst brain need some

You got it bb <3 Idk if this is really that much of a fight, but I couldn't make the MC too mean to Felix. Also, I’m aware this paints baby in a bad light. I had to make them fight about something okay :’( I don’t think he’d do this in canon.

Title: A bit Bitter

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC (Last Legacy)

Words: 2564

Tags: @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay @uselessbeanies @nomnomcupcakesworld @druwuuwu @frozen-daydream @kirakiratears @margitartist @crowtrinkets @fanfic-about-fictif Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

“Tell me the truth, Felix.”

His gray eyes dart upwards from his textbooks as I storm into the room. When he sees what I hold clutched in my hands, he swallows, the bob of his throat visible even from the doorway.

I continue in a voice that is simultaneously weak and as strong as I can manage. “Is this really how you feel?”

“W-why do you have that, love?”

I frown. His nervousness sends guilt shooting through me, but I stamp it out. I’ve bent over backwards for months in an attempt to make him comfortable, and did so gladly. But this? I can only withstand so much.

I set the notebook down on the edge of his desk with a heavy thud. Felix winces.

“The things you wrote in here, about me…” I shake my head, then look away. I can feel my eyes sting, and I bite my tongue to hold back from crying. “Felix-“

“That’s private! You don’t have the right to go snooping through my possessions.”

I sigh. Yeah, I’m nosy and read his journal, and normally I would be ashamed. I shouldn’t have done it, but… “I don’t think that’s important right now.”

“Of course it’s important!” Felix gasps, standing out of his desk chair to snatch up the journal. He meets my eyes with a fragile sort of vulnerability, then pulls the journal defensively to his chest. “I’m not privy to every thought you have. You can’t judge me for mine.”

“I would never think these things of you!” My voice raises until it edges on a shout, and I frantically rush to reign it in. “I would never.”

“That’s not-“ Felix whispers with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair.”

“No. What’s not fair is this.” I reach forward and pull the leather journal from his hands, flipping forward a few weathered pages until I find what I’m looking for.

“‘Not nearly comparable to Rime’s beauty, nor do they possess his talent with magic. They’re candlelight to his radiant sun. I’ve quelled whatever feeling has stirred in my chest and decided that I won’t settle for them. Not while my love is still hurting. And I do miss him so.”

Felix is biting at his lip as I lower the book once more, his eyes watery, wide circles. “That’s old,” he chokes out. “I swear. I don’t feel that way. I love you.”

He looks like he wants to touch me, so I step away. I shake my head. “But you did feel that way.”

“I- why does it matter? That’s private. How- how much else have you read to convince yourself my feelings for you are disingenuous? You were never meant to see any of it.” He’s wrapped arms around his thin frame, now, squeezing his eyes shut as if he wishes this all would simply go away.

“I’ve read enough.”

Felix’s eyes go wide, then dart to the journal in my hand. “Why?” I ask. “Worried there’s something worse left for me to uncover?”

“N-no.” He runs his hand over his face. “Why couldn’t you stay out of my things? That was personal! It was none of your business!” Felix hisses the last words, as close to angry as I’ve ever seen him with me. His eyes are filled with tears, but his expression if one of a rage I’ve never been in the receiving end of.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, watching him hiccup as if the words were a physical blow. “You’re a liar, Felix.” Then I simply can’t help myself but to add, “Maybe you do deserve to be alone.”

I know as soon as I say it that I’ve gone too far, and the look on his face- fuck. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the broken, hurt expression that flashes across his features out of my head. Yes, the words he’d written in that journal had stung, but I don’t feel any satisfaction from hurting him just as badly. If anything, it makes me feel worse.

All I feel is lost. My psyche weighs heavy with guilt, as well as hatred for myself for letting my patience slip. Before it can all come crumbling down on me, I turn on my heel and rush out the door, slamming it behind me with an echo that rings much to hollow to make me feel any better.

✦✧✦✧

I had frantically stuffed my few belongings into a bag and rushed to the nearest inn, flopping onto a rickety bed and crying myself to exhaustion. That had been two days ago, now, and I haven’t spoken to Felix since.

On the bright side, sending drunk texts is much more difficult to do when one doesn’t possess a cellphone.

Each night my dreams are filled with memories of his face, his smile. I can feel him in my arms, see the distinct colour of his blush each time I call him “baby” or “my sweet”. I wonder if I was over-dramatic in my reaction, but then remember the words in that journal. To think, the passage I had read aloud had only been one of many.

No. I was right to be upset.

I keep wondering if maybe the things he wrote in there were true. Yet, it’s so confusing- Felix has always had the upmost respect for me. And he’s not exactly great at hiding his emotions.

I’ve met with Anisa and Sage, both of whom seemed relatively stunned at the news. Anisa had offered exercise as a way to take my mind off it, and Sage had offered… another form of physical activity altogether, which didn’t really surprise me.

“A fight? Really? You two have always seemed like such a sappy married couple…”

I sigh. “Thanks, Sage. Really. It wasn’t even a fight, to be honest.”

“Married couples do fight, Sage.” Anisa pats my hand. “Felix is just dramatic. It will be fine! Whatever he did, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He just gets a little… jumbled up sometimes. But his intentions are pure. At least, I believe so. You can never tell with Felix.” She smiles. “Give him some time to mope and he’ll apologize.”

“If it helps,” Sage interjects, “he fought all the time with deer boy, and they were apparently a thing. I’m sure he’s used to it.”

I refrain from telling Sage that his oh-so-helpful comment is far from helpful; in fact, it highlights exactly what I’m worried about.

Tonight, thunder strikes outside in heavy, booming claps. The room I’ve rented is lowly lit by a single candle, but the flashes of lightning outside the window often light up the entire space. Rain pelts the roof and the wind howls mournfully, as if in empathy of my crushed spirit.

I’m just in the middle of pretending I’m in a sad music video when I hear an unsteady knock at the door. At first, I think it might be a tree branch outside, being as it’s so soft, but then I hear the sound again.

I fling the wool blankets over my head with a huff and shuffle towards the door, then unceremoniously fling it open.

I should have expected it would be my necromancer boyfriend looking like a drenched cat.

Felix is sopping wet, his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes so soaked I can see his tanned skin underneath. As soon as the door opens, his eyes go wide, and he immediately looks as if he’s attempting to say something, but he can’t seem to spit it out. His teeth are chattering so forcefully he can’t speak, and the wind has whipped the wet strands of hair into his mouth.

He is so stupid. I immediately can’t help but think that I love him. I am definitely morosexual.

I blink dazedly at him for a moment, before grabbing his elbows and hastily pulling him inside.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobs as I grab a blanket off the bed and hastily wrap it around his shoulders. I can’t tell if he’s shaking from crying or the cold, can’t tell if the wetness on his face is from his tears or the rain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Felix, it’s fine. Come here, you’re going to get hypothermia.”

I grab a towel from the bathroom and begin using it to dry his hair. He shakes his head as he pushes it away, sending droplets of water flying. “No! Listen, please, I am sorry, I am. I wish to explain myself. You deserve that much, at least.”

I sigh, then stand back and nod. I sit down on the edge of the bed. The mattress groans, as do I. “Fine.”

Felix pauses as if he didn’t expect that answer.

Then he picks at the frayed strings of the blanket around him. He shivers as he tugs it tighter around his shoulders. He licks his lips. “I wasn’t in a good place when we met.”

I nod. It was obvious then, and it’s even more so now. “I know.”

“It wasn’t healthy. I know that it wasn’t, but-” he cuts off as the thunder outside rumbles, lightning illuminating the haunted look in his eyes. “I loved Rime. More than that, I obsessed over him.”

That much I had guessed, but the confirmation does still twist my stomach.

“I was still in love with him when we met. Desperately so. I clung to the very idea of him for years. Rime adored how I idolized him, he encouraged it-“ he looks out the window as if lost in thought, then sighs. “It wasn’t you. I would’ve compared anyone to him. I did.”

Felix sniffs, then delicately kneels at my feet. “I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t truly think those things, my dear. I just felt so guilty, every time I felt anything for you. I had made myself think that he was perfect, that I could enforce my love for him through some strange sort of self-discipline.” He cringes, as if he knows how awful that sounds. “It seemed reasonable. I owed him my life.”

Apparently having said what he needed, Felix goes quiet. His eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles underneath, as if he’s been crying instead of sleeping ever since I left him.

“You are so incredibly lovely,” he whispers, choking. “I could see it even then. I was scared of what it would do to me to admit it.”

I swallow. I’m honestly not sure whether to believe him, but the look in his eyes is so earnest. Felix is many things, but he’s not one to hide his feelings, nor is he a good actor. I know deep down that he’s not faking his love for me, despite how my heart convinced me otherwise.

“If- If you’re still angry with me, I understand,” Felix stammers, though the tears in his eyes make it seem like that isn’t true. “M-maybe I should leave-“

The rain pounds harder against the windows. The wind whistles through the surrounding cracks. I grab his wrist.

“Come here, my sweet.”

Felix’s eyes widen at my use of my pet name for him, a timid look of disbelief in his eyes as he takes my hand and allows me to pull him onto the bed. I lie down on my back and guide to lay against my chest.

“I forgive you.” I almost can’t believe the words myself, but I know that it’s the only option I could ever consider. I love him. It’s a simple as it is complex.

“You needn’t-“

“I do. It wasn’t right of you to say those things, but it was also unfair of me to get so angry with you over something you wrote a long time ago. I know your old relationship really took a toll on you. Besides, I said some awful things to you too, Felix,” I continue, reaching up to brush his bangs back from his forehead. He trembles, leaning slightly into my touch. “You don’t deserve to be alone. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me, and I shouldn’t have. Okay?” I wait until he finally nods to continue. “And I’m sorry for going through your things. I betrayed your trust, and you were right to be upset.”

Felix goes a little slack-jawed before he finally breathes out, “O-of course I forgive you.”

“I’m glad, because I don’t think I could live without you.”

He stares at me for a moment longer before he lurches forward and kisses me, desperate and wanting, full to the brim with both apology and forgiveness. It tastes if the salt of his tears and the cold rainwater that runs over his cheeks. He’s shaking the whole time, and I tug him tighter to my chest. I can feel his heart racing through the fabric of our clothes.

“I love you, sweet.”

“I love you too,” Felix hiccups, “so much.”

We spend a bit longer like that, tangled up in the bedsheets with Felix soaking through both our clothes. Eventually, I pull back.

“Did you really wait until it was storming to show up and apologize?”

A sheepish laugh as he flushes. “I had t-thought it would be romantic. Like in my novels. I didn’t realize it was pouring quite so hard.”

His cheeks are a flaming red and he looks away like he expects me to be upset. I sigh to hide my fond smile. All I can do is kiss him again.

“I’ve brought you something,” Felix murmurs, his lips so close to mine that they brush, his eyelashes wet against my cheeks. He reaches back and takes the leather notebook, the stupid source of all our fighting, out of his coat pocket. It’s surprisingly dry.

I can’t help but want to smack that stupid book out of his hand. “Felix, why would you do that?”

He rolls his eyes, then gets up and stands off to the side of the bed. The room lights up green as his entire hand, the journal with it, are suddenly engulfed in flames, until nothing but ashes sift through his fingertips, drifting down to settle against the wooden floor.

“You’re my future.”

He’s so dramatic. I love him to pieces.

I grab his waist and all but tackle him back onto the bed, delighting in his surprised squeak.

“Stop!” Felix yelps as he falls back against the mattress, only to be assaulted by my cuddles, “I’m positively soaked; I’ll drench the sheets.”

I can’t really say that I care. We have a lot of making up to do; I’m not spending a second without him by my side for the rest of the night. Felix grumbles a final complaint and then sighs. He wraps his arms around me and presses his cheek into my chest, and I can’t help but think he feels the same.

“I didn’t enjoy that,” he mumbles, turning his face into me to hide his expression. “Being apart from you, it- hurt. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.” I’m just realizing how much. His scent and the feel of his hair against my skin, his voice. He’s invaded my senses once more, and it feels like coming back to life.

He turns to look up at me. His cheeks are rosy and his hair mussed, droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes and temples. God, he’s so adorable- I don’t know how I could ever stand to be angry with him. “I don’t want to be at odds with you anymore. I love you too much.”

I boop his perfect nose. “Deal.”

[salsdemise]

Can I request a Sally face x reader fic? Possibly a confession and first kiss an da party or something like that, thank you!

Hey anon, sorry if this is bad, I'm assuming you meant sal, and if not just lmk and I'll re-write this for another character if you want.

Warnings: Underage drinking, underaged smoking, parties, y/n used in place of your name, really awkward with the confession part? idk how to write those

word count: 1479

other: gender neutral terms used, sal's speech is in blue bc sometimes its unclear whos talking bc i didn't know what to put between the words spoken lol playlist listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5SMv6Go27KIcbfL07wkQ4m

This party wasn’t where you wanted to be right now. Hell, you’d rather be at school, getting pushed around by the kids in the hall right now. Anywhere was better than this loud, flashy,party filled with the smell of cigs, weed, alcohol and sex wafting off of every teen you passed.

Why you had come to this party in the first place had slipped your mind, as now you were more focused on not getting backed into a corner with a potted plant by a group of your peers. Maybe it was because your friend Larry wouldn’t shut up about how fun it was going to be, maybe it was because you would have felt bad saying no, or maybe it was because you certainly weren’t going to pass up on an opportunity to potentially hang out with Sal Fisher, your long time crush and close friend.

Holding your now empty red cup, you navigated your way through the crowd of drunken and dancing teens, most who were nice and giggly as you passed, slurring apologies at you if they bumped you.

While you weren’t all sober yourself, you had enough remaining cognitive ability to form full thoughts, and the only one on your mind was finding one of two people; Sal or Larry. You had no doubt Larry was off smoking with gods know who, so that left one option, and if your brain wasn’t mistaking you, you had seen the electric-bluenette near the door to the backyard in the kitchen not too long ago. So that’s where you set your sights.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you were happy to know that you were indeed correct on where you had last seen Sal, just outside on the patio, sitting hunched over a cup, the bottom straps of his prosthetic undone and dangling. Murmuring a few ‘excuse me’s at the teens you passed on the way, you made your way out to the back, opening and exiting the door and catching the bluenette’s attention. Seating yourself next to him, you said nothing, not sure of what to say.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show. Lar said you were coming, but I thought he was bluffing again,” Sal spoke, sipping on his drink.

You laughed at this, “yea, no, he actually convinced me to come. Not sure how, but he did. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you here either. You always talk about how much you hate parties, especially ones that have inebriating drinks,” you set your cup down next to you, and a small breeze knocked it over as soon as your hand left it.

��I don’t, hate em. Managed to get someone to get me something non-alcoholic, though. What have you had to drink?” He motioned to your, now rolling, red cup to emphasize.

“Oh, nothing too strong. They had a punch bowl in there so I took some of that,” thinking back to it as you spoke, it was odd the hosts of this party put a punch bowl out at a party with no need for it. However, you and Sal both seemingly shrugged it off and continued talking.

Conversation between the two of you had always come so naturally, switching between topics and tones, talking about people, your home state, his home state, and the likes.

“Man, I cannot believe he did that! It was like, super awkward between us for a week,“ you laughed, finishing a story about how Larry had tried to ask you out when high. Luckily the guy wasn’t too upset and took no for an answer.

“Hey, y/n, about asking people out...have you ever done it?” Sal questioned, messing with his sweater sleeves now that his drink was gone and his cup had also flown off.

“Oh, uh, not like, here at Nockfell, but in the past I asked a guy in my grade to go to a valentine’s day dance with me. Why?” you responded, tilting your head at him.

“I want to ask this person out, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh. Well, what do they like? How long have you known them? And how close are you two? You can’t just ask out a random person you barely know, it won’t go well.”

“Well, they like a lot so it’s...kinda hard to put into words. I’ve known them for years now, and I’d like to say we’re pretty close.”

Thinking, you went quiet. As much as it hurt you to know your crush liked someone else, you were going to help him as best you could.

“Well, I’d give them a note, personally. I’d probably piss myself if I tried to tell them upfront. But it depends on how you wanna do it.”

Sal quietly thinks for a few seconds before standing up and fixing his mask, “Thanks for your help dude. We should get going, I’ll go find Larry and we can get out of here.”

You nod, standing and following Sal back into the house, heading for the front door while Sal went off to find Larry. With your mutual friend acquired, you all left for home, depositing Larry at his place and heading to your own beds, tired now that the social buzz had worn off.

Over the next week, you and Sal talked less and less, notes popped up in your locker, and small things like patches, stickers, pins and snacks appeared with them. You were confused to say the least. You loved everything this admirer gave you, and the notes were adorable, even if they were typed and printed rather than hand written, but you wondered why Sal had stopped talking to you as often as he did.

As the weeks progressed, you had started to like the secret admirer that was leaving you small gifts and notes reminding you how much they liked you. But the most recent note, which you had gotten on a sunny and warm Wednesday, really caught your attention. This time, it was handwritten in blue pen ink, the handwriting surprisingly neat, completely eliminating who you thought it was.

The note read: “y/n, meet me in the courtyard during lunch/break time. -<3”, and not wanting to disappoint, you waited with an uneasy shake until lunch came around where you went straight to the courtyard. Seeing no one, you sat on the ground by a tree to wait until your secret admirer got there.

10 minutes later, the heavy doors opened and closed with a thud, catching your attention and causing you to look up where you saw Sal, mask in hands, and looking down.

“Sal? Are you the one that wanted to meet me here?” You were..puzzled to say the least. Sal had hardly talked to you in weeks, and you thought he liked someone else like Ash, but it seems you were mistaken.

“Uh, yea, I am. I know you’re..probably upset at me for not talking to you in the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to say something stupid too soon. I hope you’re not too mad..”

“Sal, I’m not mad. I thought you were busy trying to get your mystery person to like you..and I guess I was right, but I didn’t think it’d be me..”

“Who else would it have been? You and I are as close as Larry and I are, we like the same things and I’ve known you since you got here. Hell, I’ve been pining over you for years now, but last year when Lar told me he was gonna try and shoot his shot, I tried to get myself to like Ash so I wouldn’t feel like shit if you said yes.”

“Oh, Sal. I thought it was Ash, you talk so much about her sometimes, I thought you actually liked her.”

“Oh, no, I don’t. She helped me with this, actually. Which reminds me, if its not obvious already, I really fucking like you. Like, you make me feel happy and just thinking about you makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Smiling at his words you stood to go over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders so he would look up at you, “I like you too, Sal. Like, a lot. I have for a while, and when you asked how to ask someone out,I..it hurt a little bit.”

Saying nothing at your words, Sal moved forward and wrapped you in a hug, his mask landing in the grass behind you two. Before you could return the hug, Sal backed up and his hands grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. Giving you time to react this time, you kissed back, your hands placing themselves over his.

Now, sitting at a college party with your boyfriend, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe parties aren’t so bad after all.’