#and most of my ‘’reading’’ recently has consisted of

[elexuscal]

Scholomance: A Series In Conversation With Harry Potter

(and often, that conversation is 'fuck you') So I've seen posts (and made some myself), talking about how Scholomance is a response to Harry Potter, perhaps the most recent being this addition to a reblog chain of alternatives to the HP-series in light of Rowling's raging bigotry. For folks who aren't familiar about the series, I think it's very possible you'll go "oh yeah because they're both in magic schools, sure". Or even "yeah all YA-adjacent fantasy in the last 20 years is influenced by Harry Potter, duh".

But no. I mean, specifically, the author Naomi Novik is a known fanfic writer who has spent years emersed in fandom, and I think she wrote the series in part as a response to critiques of the HP series. Some of this is more tongue-in-cheek playing with fandom specific tropes and ideas, but others I think are very insightful responses to how Rowling ended up creating a world based on British hegemony and replication of the status quo. Which isn't to say that the Scholomance series don't stand on their own-- I think they do!-- but if you were someone who grew up playing in that space, it'll have a whole other layer for you. So, whether you've read the series, or are curious and want a spoiler-minimal break down, here's my thesis, starting with:

Harry X Draco

The two leads, El and Orion, are designed to parallel and reflect common tropes given to Harry and Draco in the HP fandom, though not necessarily in a one to one. Beyond the rivals-to-lovers romantic pairing, we have… El: The protagonist, struggling against the perceptions of a prophecy, the social outcast, Angry and Scowly (Harry) Takes on the roll of the apparently-evil nascent dark wizard who secretly has a heart of gold (Draco) Orion: the golden boy, the hero (Harry) Latin name, Comes from a powerful and established family, parent is a major villain, silvery-blonde (Draco) Their relationship arc requires El to unpack that Orion's upbringing was not necessarily happy for all it was privileged, while Orion needs to recognise he had privilege in the first place, and other people had to struggle where he didn't-- which are common arcs in Draco/Harry fics.

HP Adults Are Useless

A constant (sometimes joking, sometimes serious) complaint of HP, was how the adults were functionally useless, requiring the kids to constantly save the day. Honestly, I think this is just one of the fundamental elements of the genre: YA fiction will have Young Adults do the plot stuff.

Nonetheless, Scholomance has an elegant solution to the accidental byproduct of making the adults seem idiots and/or negligent—the adults can’t help, because there are none in the school. Even once they graduate, it’s not so much that adults are useless per say; some are in fact quite helpful! But many of the most powerful have been co-opted by corrupt corporate systems, and those who haven’t are struggling with intense trauma that makes them unwilling to rock the boat.

Man, The Way HP Treats Muggles-Born Is Kinda Whack

Sure is! Scholomance amps this up even more. Magical kids born of non-magical parents don’t last long. This is because young wizards are basically yummy mana snacks for monsters. The one “muggleborn” kid we hear about getting schlorped up by the Scholomance is said to have died painfully and messily due to any lack of knowledge, equipment, or allies. It encapsulates the failings of the current system.

Why Don’t Wizards Help Muggles?

As an extension of the last point, wizards in HP consistently treat non-magical people with disdain at best. At worst, they actively hurt them, as evidenced by stuff like innocent civilians suffering brain damage due to repeated memory wipes. They certainly don’t do anything like use their magic to help cure disease, duplicate and/or transport food, or provide clean energy, all of which seems easily within their power. The reasoning for this is pretty unexplored (bad blood from witch trials?) and seems kind of laughable given that the average witch or wizard should be able to easily overpower the average muggle. Again, Scholomance has an elegant solution here: magic just doesn’t work around non-magical folks.

Rather, magic is powered, deep down, on the belief that it’ll work. And deep, deep down, normal people don’t believe magic is real. Monsters become weak in their presence; spells fizzle out. Indeed, a smart strategy for survival as a wizard is to hide yourself deep among non-magical crowds. Otherwise, mana is expensive. Even if you could cast a cure-cancer spell in a mundane hospital with confidence it wouldn’t just fail, that would be prohibitively mana-hungry for all but the most secure Enclave wizards.

How Can There Be Any Material Poverty In The Wizarding World?

A lot of the HP books are obsessed with class. Like the Weasleys are poor. Really poor. They seem to struggle with basic expenses for food and clothes, let alone stuff like school supplies. How does that make any sense, when over the series, we see ability to near instantly repair items, replicate food, etc?

In Scholomance, poverty has nothing to do with material wealth over mundane things, like food and clothes. Indeed, it's explicitly said getting money is trivial. The currency is mana, which is what you need to cast any spells... Which is what you need to not get eaten by monsters.

HP’s Wizarding World Has So Few Jobs!

An oft-repeated critique of Rowling’s worldbuilding is that there were like, five jobs (teacher, cop, merchant, healer, and government official).

Scholomance’s worldbuilding focuses hugely on the wide variety of careers available in their world, with everyone very preoccupied with what job they’re going to take, since it actively impacts their survival both in and out of high school. We hear about maintenance workers, water sanitation, food scientists, doctors, artificers, gardeners, and more. That said, everyone who graduates ends up being a skilled martial combatant, cuz if you aren’t, monsters eat you. Ouch. … this probably has an impact on why wizard society, at large, is so combative and dog-eat-dog.

Why Are HP Spells Only In Latin?

All the spells the students learn in Hogwarts are Latin. IIRC, we might see some French and Nordic spells when other schools visit in book 4, but we get pretty much no world building an explanation. Why Latin? Out of universe, of course, it’s because it has associations with sophistication and academia and lost knowledge. By why in-universe? Do spells simply not work in English? What about other contemporary languages? Why would that matter at all? Do languages become magic if they're old enough? What's the logic here? Scholomance answers all of these questions. Different languages have different schools and philosophies around spell crafting. While all contemporary languages have their own spells, anyone who wants to be competitive needs to learn spells from other languages, both modern and archaic. “The Language Track”, which El is on, is necessary for those who want to become particularly flexible and skilled spell-crafters.

Actually, HP’s Global Worldbuilding In General Is Either Non-Existent Or Downright Shitty

Sure fucking was. As a refresher for those who never read the books or have just forgotten, the HP series is pretty disinterested in questions of what the so-called “wizarding world” looks like outside Europe, or even Britain. We get glimpses of French and Nordic wizards, as mentioned. We hear about dragons from a variety of countries; we know there’s “curse breaking” on Egyptian pyramids. That’s about it. On the official HP extended lore site “Pottermore”, Rowling began to write short stories and other material to fill in the gaps. These were bad. Really bad. Things like there being a single wizarding school for all of China. Or the Indigenous witches and wizards of the Americas apparently not being very good at magic, until European wizards came, taught them how to make wands, and set up the first school on the continent (which every kid, presumably including Indigenous ones, go to.) Wow. Again, Scholomance-- both the series and the titular school-- is designed to answer these critiques.

Why is there only one magical school? Because it was an incredibly complex and mana-hungry construction project. Why is it so British and American in its design? Because those were the main builders/funders, and they intended to keep it for themselves... Until they realised they needed to put more kids in there to up the chances for their own childrens' survival. But while Britain and America have an outsized impact on the school, they are not the only major players. International politics is a huge theme of the series, with Enclaves from all around the world fighting for power and influence. China in particular is becoming a rising star, and is pressuring for more seats in the school, or else they might break away and make one of their own. Everyone is bracing for an international wizard war that seems liable to start any moment. Our protagonist, El, is of both Welsh and Indian descent, notably both nations that were colonized by the British. As the series goes on, that colonization becomes a major theme, arguably the one that underpins the whole series. In order to counter this, El needs to cultivate friends and allies from all around the world. While I think it's telling that her first real friend ends up being a Desi-American girl, her core team ends up including folks from China, Germany, Malaysia, and more. All of these nations are shown to have their own cultural backgrounds and approaches to magic. Notably, the powerful ancient magical tome that holds the promise for potential peace, the Golden Sutras, are rooted in Indian culture, just like El.

Harry Potter Is Pretty Heteronormative, Huh?

Sure is. And while there were critiques of this even when the books were coming out, its failure there has become much more damning in hindsight given Rowling's descent into becoming perhaps the most politically active and powerful transphobe on the planet. Sadly, I don't believe Scholomance has any explicit trans representation (though let me know if I'm forgetting something). I will say, though, that on top of having some background queer rep, El is bisexual, who has an on-page sexual relationship with another young woman. (I adore that whole relationship so much frankly, but it's kinda out side the scope here, so I'll leave that aside for now).

Status Quo

And then, the crux of it. Harry Potter, for all the series presented itself as a counter-cultural rebellion against a fascist take over, ends right where it started. Voldemort is defeated, sure, but none of the systems that led to his creation and rise to power are dismantle. Harry grows up to become a wizard cop, marries his high school sweet heart, and has three kids. Without spoilers, Scholomance ends on a much more open note. There is no single villain to defeat. Fixing the system is a long, hard, slow process. The powers that be will try to block El and her allies at every turn. But she's still determined to try.

... PS

My Immortal

Galadriel Higgins is a goth who puts up her middle fingers at preps. The end.

[moonshynecybin]

rider moves and contract rumors, your ranking from most to least likely to happen (alternately, is simon patterson ever right)

thank you !!! truly contract season haunts my every waking thought there’s so many torrid little possibilities and it was supposed to be boring this year and instead it’s soap opera level bananas

jorge>honda

9/10. i think this one is gonna probably happen? like if it doesn’t then i think he skulks back to aprilia and is just kinda miserable with them for a year because they are a team with an abnormally high tolerance for diva behavior after tag teaming aleix and maverick for multiple seasons lol. and then jorge can pick a japanese team for 2027 so eventually it most likely happens anyways. but then with luca out i really do think the absence stars have aligned and it’s looking more and more likely as an option that is clean for both of them and makes sense. which wouldn’t make me mad really, except i don’t know where luca is going and that stresses me OUT !!!!! like if aprilia doesn’t want him i guess he’d be a brilliant test rider but :( lucaaaa… also i think it would be funny if they lost luca and suddenly realize that the bike is bad again

toprak>yamaha

8/10. guys i think lucy might actually let him kick the football lol… truly after all the recent reporting the only part where i was kinda on the fence about its validity was miguel oliveira having a two year contract on the books/jack miller being too good to be a sacrificial lamb generally (booo), but the race has some reporting from pramac that that second year for oliveira could be solidly in doubt, PLUS the pramac team boss confirmed they’ve talked to toprak… and all the previous rumors kinda came just from his own manager… which to me is much more indicative that the ball is in fact rolling down the hill. which is fun i wanna see him cope with our fuck ass tire situation let’s see if he can really play some ball. lots of ball metaphors in this section sorry but i love a juicy little unknown and i think having his loud mouthed manager in the paddock would be SO funny

pecco> yamaha

0/10 SO not happening any time soon it’s kinda funny that this has been circulated as a viable rumor in multiple journalism publications. like girl what. i mean not only is pecco on the record as saying that leaving contracts early divorce is something he deeply personally disapproves of, he’s ALSO invested a lot in this team specifically and has been a ducati fan since he was a baby little boy. and i think in generally he just doesn’t like the idea of “quitting” like if you gave pecco the option he’ll take noble suffering any day of the week… nail himself to that cross if he has to… like i firmly believe that if pecco leaves ducati, it’s going to be a decision FROM ducati, and he’s TOO valuable for bike dev in this current market what with bamboozling front end saves georg marquez over on the other side of the garage even WITH with the problems he’s having. and he’s not even THAT bad he’s just flopping by his own extremely exacting standards. anyways pecco will stay would be my read

enea>aprilia vs luca>aprilia vs ogura >aprilia

unquantifiable. see now here’s where i stare at the screen and steeple my fingers and wonder and hem and haw and then make some decaf and smoke a cigarette… if i had my druthers i think a luca/jorge clean swap would be ideal and luca would fit right tf in at aprilia and we would have a bez/luca teammates era that would be super fun for me AND marco bezzecchi, as luca’s methodical ass nature develops that bike into something more consistently competitive and honda is off spackling over the walls that jmartin punched through when he realizes the honda has mad chatter problems. that would rule. pbut then enea also wants to leave ktm apparently and it’s complicated bc he has a two year deal but the current situation is REALLY not working and enea probably has a higher results ceiling than luca BUT also isn’t that great at bike dev so. genuinely no idea lmao. i would hope they give luca a shot for at least another year bc it’s the cleanest option and let ai ogura develop some more on a more low-stakes environment at trackhouse, who seem to LOVE him and also just really need some good results in their pocket lol. but GOD who knows what’ll happen for real like i certainly don’t

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation - Chapter 4

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe's never had too much trouble adapting.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption.

After some time to myself, being unemployed and all, I thought... hey... what if I finally go through my draft? It seems to be a common occurrence, to be unburdened by this story until I have no other things to do. But it is the unfortunate way that I function. As for the story itself, things are beginning to pick up and I can't help but wonder what our dearest Reader could possibly be thinking.

It's been a few days since I found you crying over the dining table. I press the buzzer easily now, and wait for you to let me in. At the sound of the lock sliding back, I open the door and make my way up the stairs, pretending I don’t see the water damage spreading around the building.

You open the door for me with a smile, all teeth, and it meets your eyes. You sigh, dreamy, and I smile back, satisfied. There’s comfort in our little ritual.

“Hey,” I greet.

“Hey – thanks for coming by,” You return to your little place at the kitchen island, tapping away at your laptop. A paper coffee cup from the local place down the road sits beside it, a notepad too. By your feet I see two boxes overflowing with documents. I glance down to the gift bag in my hand before setting it down by the door and shedding my boots.

“Didn’t see you at Anavrin today,” I state, making my way to the seat by your side. You were very consistent up until recently, arriving early to see Love on her lunch breaks – sharing food. Snacks. Treats. Lemon cookies. But everyone has their moments, and you’re allowed some space from Love. She’s been overbearing since you’ve arrived in LA, hasn’t she? “Thought maybe you’d be there for lunch.”

“No, not today.” You mumble, frowning. You tab out of the document on your computer as I sit down. It looked like a tax form. You grab your pen and fiddle with it. I think back on the messages you’d exchanged with Love this morning.

‘Can’t come by this afternoon,’ you’d tried to be nice as you cancelled plans. At least, this time, you hadn’t gone through most of the day without a warning. ‘Going through paperwork.’

You know, Love looked pretty upset. I watched her face fall when the message came in – but you were being truthful. Still, she was optimistic. The bag I left by the door says it all. As you sat there, I looked down at your notepad. A task list.

“So,” You begin, twisting your chair to look at me. “Today, a few things. I have somebody coming to pick up the sofa and coffee table set, and we’re working on emptying the bedroom. I already threw out all her underwear. You know, stuff that can’t be sold or donated.”

I nod.

“We’re gonna fold and bag the other clothes,” You sniff, shutting the screen of your laptop and tossing your pen atop the notepad. “But I think we should work on putting the baubles in boxes first.”

“Before we start,” I raise my hands in a pausing motion, I lift off my seat and make my way back to the bag I left behind. “I actually have something for you.”

“Oh, you got me something?”

“Hey, before you say anything - !” I lifted the bag and brought it to you. You reach for it hesitantly, and I set it on your lap. “Open it.”

You glance up at me, my face betraying nothing as I smile and motion toward the bag. You sigh, a dumb smile stretching across your face. You’re happy. You’re not admitting it out loud, but gifts do please you. You reach past the coloured tissue paper and gently grasp the neck of the bottle, lifting it with care. When you set your eyes on the label, your jaw nearly drops.

“Oh my god,” You mumble, cradling the bottle with both hands, reading the label anew. “Oh my god – this is, like… ridiculous.”

I laugh, and you hop off your chair, gently placing the bottle on the counter before jumping onto me. You wrap your arms around me tight, and I’m taken by surprise. An instant after the action sinks in, my hands slide up your waist and around your back. My fingers feel numb at the contact, and I gulp when you squeeze me.

“Thank you so much,” You sigh and I feel that familiar tingle ride up my back. You let go a moment later, my arms turning to mush as you push away. You look back at the bottle, observing it fondly. “This is so wonderful, I don’t even know what to say.”

The praise lights something in me as I grin. A part of me feels content not telling you the bottle was from Love, just for the time being. I’ll correct you later.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I chuckle. “We can just get right back to work.”

You try to hold back your smile, admiring the bottle for another moment before glancing my way. You nod your head, and place the Artisanal Vodka by the sink.

Passing the doorway into the bedroom, nothing looks particularly different. The boxes that were earlier folded and tucked behind the door now sit open around the room, still empty.

“We can just start putting things in boxes,” you say, stepping into the bathroom.

“Sounds good.”

I pick up some familiar framed pictures above the dresser and observe them closely. Now that I know what I’m looking at, I’m taking in the details. I recognize which one could be your mom. You’re far from a perfect replica, but you two share some physical similarities. I can hear you rummaging through drawers. I look over and you’re shoving old makeup into a trash bag.

“Did you want to keep the pictures?” I ask.

“Uh,” You straighten your posture and look at me through the doorway. “No. I think her friends have their own copies. We can throw out the pictures and keep the frames.”

I nod my head and turn a frame over. I pry the tabs away and slide out the backing board. I ungraciously take the picture out of the frame and place it on the dresser. I close the back of the frame anew and place it in a box. I do the same with the others, stacking the pictures on the dresser and placing the frames in the box. On my third picture, as I’m prying the tabs away, I draw my hand away with a hiss.

“You okay?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Yeah, I just…” I shake my hand, huffing. “I cut myself.”

“Well,” you exclaim loudly. “You’re in luck.”

I place the frame back down and watch you walk into the bedroom with a white box.

“I hadn’t yet boxed the first aid kit,” You laugh. “Let me see the damage.”

I sit on the bed and you approach. You sit by my side and place the kit between us.

“I’m not a doctor, but if you need an amputation,” You pull out a band aid. “I just got some pretty good vodka to disinfect it.”

We laugh together and I shake my head.

“You’d waste the good stuff just like that?”

“Waste! You’d call saving your finger a waste! I heard you need your hands to bind books.” After a thorough observation. You wrap the band aid around my finger and shut the box.

“You got me there,” I sigh. “How on Earth would I ever stock bookshelves again?”

“Your luck hasn’t yet run out – stitches are not in your future as of today,” You pick up the kit and shake your head with a huff. “Now – let’s get back to work.”

There’s an ease to the placement of items in these boxes, especially once you finally finish with the bathroom and join me in their organization. I watch your hands fold the clothing you’d told me would be donated, and a question pops into my mind.

“You’ve decided where everything here goes, but what about you?”

You look at me quizzically for a moment, so I ask again.

“What are you going to do when this is all over?”

You drop the folded dress into a garbage bag and hum. I reach for a stone figurine which still sat on the dresser, and cradle it in my hand.

“You know,” you begin, stopping short to no doubt choose your words carefully. “I thought maybe I’d go back home.”

I nod, listening. You’re pensive for another moment before continuing.

“I don’t think there's a place for me in LA anymore. I’ve outgrown the noise, and I want to live quietly.”

“Sounds poetic,” I tease. You roll your eyes, finding my statement amusing. I’m quick to temper the humour with a douse of reality as another thought creeps through. “What about Love?”

“What about Love?” You repeat, scoffing. Your smile falters as you grab another garment to fold. “She asked me the same question. I told her I’d have to think about it.”

“Why wo–”

“I just don’t –” You cut through my question, waving your free hand to halt me. “I’ve… Can we just…” You shut your eyes then, embarrassed by your abrasive reaction. Your hands return to the garment, your eyes drifting to your task. “Please, don’t make me explain myself.”

I turn my attention back down to the stone figurine in my hand, brushing my thumb across it. I nod my head, but I don’t understand. I smile reassuringly, and you nod back in approval with your own wavering smile. If you had planned to leave, then why make her believe the decision hadn’t been made?

It's quiet now. We continue to unpack the bedroom in a pregnant silence. I think about your words, and the meaning behind them. You, in-turn, look kicked. You think about me, what I might think of you. What Love thinks of you.

Despite the tension, you invited me back the next day, pretending as though the question had never invaded the space between us.

The apartment is finally empty after less than a week of stacking baubles in boxes and laundry in plastic bags. The majority of the usable furniture is sold while the harder to rid items are donated. And when you’d told me you had a surprise for me, I knew what to expect. I can see your texts, and I knew Love was on the way. She had come by with lunch for three and, after a nice meal shared on the carpet, she helped with deep cleaning the wooden floors and patching up the drywall. Does Love know that you plan to leave?

The only things left to sort through were the boxes of documents still sitting by the kitchen island, which you’d assured us you’d find your own time to get through.

—

I watch Love now, as she prepares dinner, and I brush my hands along her hips. We’re celebrating tonight. For the hard work you– we had put in.

“Nice bandaid,” Love teased me. I huffed. My hands continued up her hips and around her stomach.

“Will…” Love warns me, but I feel too content to move away. She sighs. “She’ll be here soon. Is the cutlery set?”

“No… not yet,” I responded.

“Could you set it for me?”

I kiss the back of Love’s head and reluctantly pry my hands away. I open the drawer and fish out forks and knives. In the dining room, I place the three sets carefully. As an odd number, Love and you are seated on one side of the table while I sit across. Love joins me in the dining room a minute later with a lighter.

“Can you believe how empty the apartment looks now? God, her mom left it a mess.” She says.

“The building isn’t doing too good either,” I add. Love leans over the table and brings the lighter to the single candle sitting between our seats.

“Yeah, it’s just… a pretty old building. They should probably think about renovating it soon, there are better options on the market for about the same price. Maybe better.” She observes the candle’s new flame flicker. “Like, I have no idea how you found your place. It’s a pretty good deal for what it is.”

“Well, it has its issues. Things you don’t really notice until you live there.”

“Like what? The location is pretty nice, and I like the outdoor decor.”

“The walls are pretty soft. You end up with a hole or two from just hanging pictures.”

“I never noticed a hole in any of your walls before,”

“Uh,” I hesitate for a second and sniff. “I patched them up.”

The doorbell rings and we’re torn from the conversation. Love follows behind me as I go answer.

When I open the door, your face lights up with a smile.

“Hey, you…”

“Hey,” You wave, and I take a step back to let you in.

Love is on you in less than a second, arms wide as she scoops you into a hug.

“Oh my goooood,” She exclaims as you hug her in return, back bent at an awkward angle. You laugh, but it’s uncomfortable. “I’m so proud of you.”

“What! Why?” You laugh. “Will did most of the work.” Love rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You told me you had no clue how you’d get through this. You got through it. In like just about a week, mind you.”

You swat her away with a chuckle, and she catches your hands with a grin.

“You did great, babe.”

You’re reluctant to accept the praise when you share the work, but you’re just as deserving of it as anyone else. And, besides, Love knows how to lay it on thick.

As you begin shrugging off your coat, Love jumps into action. “Let me get that for you,”

You laugh as she slides the sleeves off your arms and hangs the coat on the rack haphazardly. I quietly fix it as it threatens to slip off.

“I made your favourite,” Love hums to you, locking her arm around yours before directing you straight to the dining room. I follow behind, hands in my pockets. I’m an idle observer.

Love pulls out your designated seat and sits you down at the table. You drop your purse by your feet, it jingles with that familiar bell. Love flies back to the kitchen not a moment longer, eager to bring out the plates. I pull my own seat out from under the table and sit. I adjust myself in the chair, leaning back. My eyes lock onto yours. The candle between us flickers pleasantly.

“How’s the paperwork going?” I ask.

“It’s going well,” You assure. “Lots of shredding.”

“Sounds like a great way to spend your day,” I laugh.

“Oh of course,” You laugh along. “I wouldn’t want to be doing aaanything else. But I think I’ll be absolutely elated when it's over.”

I fight back a sneer at your frank statement, instead returning a tight smile. Love returns, holding a dark pristine bottle.

She turns over my glass and pours me a cup. When she flutters over to you, she does the same. Her hand finds your face, brushing your cheek, and she smiles warmly at you. You smile back, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes then. She sits down after filling her own glass of wine, setting the bottle off to the side.

When Love lifts her cup, we follow suit.

“I just wanted to tell you again how proud I am of you,” She sings. “And how happy I am that you’re back here in LA. I just – I still can’t believe it some days.”

You nod, with that smile I’m catching onto. My eyes watch you and Love eagerly. When she clinks your cup to hers, the fabricated joy falters. Love turns to clink cups with me, and she looks at me strangely then. I think she noticed it too. I clink my cup with you, and you don’t even spare me a glance. You quickly bring the cup to your lips and drink down the red wine in heavy gulps, face scrunching as it burns its way down.

Love sips hers as she eyes you, and I don’t even touch mine. I set it back down.

Love rises from her seat, picks up the bottle and unexpectedly places it in your reach. She says nothing but smiles with a knowing look on her face. You glance up through your lashes at her, unsure. You take the bottle by the neck, cradling its bottom with your free hand, and pour yourself another glass.

Her hand touches your shoulder gently, rubbing a circle into it.

“Dinner should be ready now,” She assures you before making her way back to the kitchen. You set the bottle back down with a thud.

You drink more than you eat. Your face is flushed, your speech slurs. I look at Love like she’s to blame. Despite having poured yourself those cups, she supplied the bottle.

Somewhere between finishing our plates and now, you softened. You visibly relax in your seat, and you look at me with hazy, drunken eyes. Your foot nudges mine under the table and I glance behind me – toward the kitchen. Love is bringing out dessert. You do it again, and I look back to your eyes.

I see something then, in those sleepy depths. You’re fighting back an urge, something that threatens to fall off of your tongue. You want to tell me something. I lean forward expectantly, my seat creaking, and you part your lips ever so slightly.

Love hums a key as she waltzes back into the dining room, holding a plate of something sweet. You break your eyes away from me slowly, fluttering your lashes tiredly as you look at Love. I clear my throat and readjust, not quite leaning back as I was before. She sets down the cheesecake between us, the forks and glass dessert plates already accounted for.

“You want the first slice?”

“Sure.” You respond, voice small in the quietness of the room.

She hums, but cuts your slice still. She places it on the plate, grabbing an extra berry to garnish the slice, and serves you. You pick at your piece.

When love sets down my plate, I lunge in with my fork. I take it between my teeth and I savour the dessert. It’s sour like a lemon, a little bitter too. The berry syrup atop helps to sweeten it. When you finally take a bite, you pull the fork away to chew slowly. Your eyes are to the table, not quite observing anything. Your face betrays nothing, and I wonder what you’re thinking.

“Careful –” Love swipes her thumb under your lower lip, quickly picking up the red dribbling syrup. She brings it to her mouth and laughs. “You’re going to make a mess,” She exclaims, sucking her thumb.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize, huffing. You set your fork down. “I think I had too much to drink. I don’t think I can finish this,” Given the way the night has been going, I could laugh at that statement.

Love’s hand disappears below the table, out of sight. You look at me. I lean forward in my seat and take another bite.

“I’ll pack you another slice to take back with you. It’s getting late anyway,” She says. Love’s hands come up and pull your attention to her, she cradles your face, steadying you. She looks into your eyes. You smile at her, warm but insincere, and she smiles back.

“Will’s going to drive you home,” Love tells you.

Without another choice in the world, you nod your head.

[astergh0st]

gosh i would love to read more books! wish my brain would let me!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Can’t live without your love inside me now

Tags: sextherapist!Nanami x fem!reader, nocurse!au, taboo romance, heavy topics such as sexual assault, dead dove due to the power imbalance and heavy conversation, is this considered angst? idk

Synopsis: In which Kento Nanami is a sex therapist, and his client is a young neglected wife with an emotionally absent husband. He teaches you what love is really all about.

An: Just another warning that this fic deals with heavy themes. It’s honestly been so therapeutic for me to write due to my own history. If it’s not for you, I have plenty of other Nanami fics that are more lighthearted. For the anons in my requests asking for more Nanami, this is for you.

Part one. | Part two.

“With those things in mind, I’m interested in what has brought you into my office today.”

“I’m not sure… Sex just doesn’t appeal to me much anymore.”

Being a sex therapist, Kento Nanami has heard it all. He’s seen this same presenting problem again and again. He’s counseled young and older men with erectile dysfunction. He’s counseled persons of the LGBTQ+ community come to terms with their sexuality and how that relates to sex. He’s counseled so many people who come from purity culture and struggle with sex. He’s counseled couples who can’t seem to get it right in the bedroom. He’s counseled sexual assault survivors.

Kento Nanami prides himself on upholding the ethics of counseling. He keeps the code of ethics proudly sat upon his shelf. His goal as a therapist was to give everyone a safe space to divulge their most vulnerable inner thoughts to him.

Sex was too often treated as a taboo, offensive subject, which is why Nanami got into sex therapy in the first place. He wanted to change the stigma around it. Sex was a basic need for the majority of individuals, and many times, people have poor experiences with sex since it’s not normalized and hardly talked about.

“Okay, so is it fair to say you don’t often feel like you’re in the mood for sex?” he asked as he looked towards his client. A pretty young lady sat across from him on his couch. His “office” was in his home, finding that people often didn’t want to talk about sex in what they considered to be a “public” space like a therapist’s office.

“Yeah, I mean… I just...” your voice trailed off. You already felt like this might be a mistake. Your arms crossed over your chest as it felt like you were naked in front of your incredibly handsome counselor.

His office was nice, serene almost. He had different seating options and all kinds of fidget items around his office. He also had a plethora of books on a shelf behind his desk.

It seems he enjoys spending his time reading up about the art of sex. You can’t help but feel your face warm from thinking about him reading those sorts of things in his free time.

The walls were painted a nice soft blue grey color, and the office smelled like fresh linen from the aroma diffuser in the corner of the room. Several different houseplants were also scattered about. They all looked healthy, assuring you that Nanami paid attention to detail. He was responsible and consistent.

“Take your time,” Nanami assured you as he sat back in his chair. “The first visit is always the hardest. Don’t feel pressured to get down to the bottom of why you’re lacking a sexual drive. These things take time and trial and error.”

That was… almost reassuring. You took a deep breath as your fingers absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair behind your ear. The familiar ministration worked to calm your mind.

“I’m young, and I’m recently married. I have no kids. I feel like I should be… I don’t know— at my sexual prime or something.”

“What gave you that idea?” Nanami probed as he continued observing your small nervous habits. He found his lips trying to curl into a smile, but he kept his face meticulously trained as a look of interest.

“Well, girls talk, you know? My girlfriends talk about their lack of a sex life stemming from other obligations or from a lack of a connection…” you explained as you briefly looked up at Nanami. Each time his hazel eyes met yours, you had to look away immediately.

When you found his information online, you didn’t think he’d be this handsome. You just saw all of his credentials, and you had heard good things about him on different websites centered around “rating” therapists.

Of course, you had done some digging on him. There was no way in hell you were going to go to some strange man’s house to talk about sex. That sounded ridiculous.

“Do you compare yourself to these so called ‘girlfriends’ often?” Nanami asked calmly. His voice was even and smooth, allowing you feel even more safe to open up.

“I mean, no. They’re just all I have in terms of what’s normal for sex.”

“Okay, so let me make sure I understand this right. You lack a sexual drive. You feel guilty that you lack sexual drive because you believe you don’t have a good enough reason to not want sex on a regular basis, and you think that you’re not normal. Does that cover it?”

You winced a bit as it was all laid out on the table for you. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to hide from how pathetic you sounded. You sheepishly nod in response.

“Y/n, open your eyes for me,” his voice spoke gently, coaxing you to slowly flutter your eyes open to look into his. Once he had your gaze, he went on, “These are all normal feelings to have. I can blab on and on to you about how our society is blatantly misogynistic when it comes to sex, but I’ll spare you the details since I’m sure you’re painfully aware. We’re going to figure this out together, alright?”

You took a deep breath, letting his words wash over you as a security blanket. It was nice to have someone to just talk about these things freely to. You felt a glimmer of hope shine through.

“Okay,” you said with a small nod, feeling more confident now.

“So, you mentioned earlier that you're recently married. Tell me a little bit about that."

You try not to have a physical reaction when Nanami brings up your husband. It was a topic that felt too raw.. too close to home. You’re supposed to be a dutiful wife, right? So, why would you feel that way when talking about your husband?

“Oh, uh… well,” you stammer, looking away from Nanami as you suddenly came up blank on your own marriage. “We got married about a year ago. Some say we’re still in the honeymoon phase, but…”

Nanami perks up a little in his chair. Some therapists take notes or record their sessions. Nanami doesn’t believe in it. He thinks it takes away from the moment. He’d much rather be present with his client rather than jotting down notes.

“But..?” he urges you to go on.

“But… I guess it just doesn’t feel that way.”

“What is your idea of the honeymoon phase? What does that look like to you?” Nanami asks, clasping his hands together in his lap as he relaxes into his chair.

You take a moment to process his question. What does the honeymoon phase look like?

“For me, it looks like the movies where couples do things for each other without being asked. They’re attuned to each other’s emotions, and they make a conscious effort to be sensitive to their partner’s feelings.” Your eyes meet Nanami’s once again, and you let out a deep breath. No one told you that counseling would be this mentally strenuous.

“Okay, what about in your current life? Do you feel like that’s how it is now?”

You nearly laugh from the question. You mentioned that sort of love being in movies because you’ve never seen it in real life. You’re nearly convinced that it doesn’t happen in real life, and anyone who claims to have that type of love must be lying.

“No, I feel like we’re both focused on our own lives… We just happen to also be in a marriage together.”

“That doesn’t seem like an active partnership,” Nanami responds as he searches your face thoughtfully. He can feel his heart ache for you. This is by far his least favorite presenting problem to work with because he can’t just tell you that you need to leave your husband. All he can do is inspire you to seek the changes you need. “What are you focused on in your own life right now, y/n?”

You feel the tension set in your shoulders and neck as soon as you hear that question. Just thinking about what all you have to do is enough to stress you out. “For starters, I work full-time. It’s a standard corporate job from eight to five, but it can be a lot.”

“That’s not easy, y/n. Just because that is what’s considered to be standard, doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’m sure that’s a lot on your plate.” His voice was low and calm. His presence felt so warm in the room; you feel like you’re finally able to open up a little.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I also take care of the house and our pets.”

“The housework… is that all your responsibility?” Nanami asks as his eyebrows knit together slightly. He feels like he’s already scratching the surface of why you don’t have any sex drive.

“Yeah. If I want him to do anything, I have to delegate the work to him. My husband always says to just tell him whenever I want something done, and I should be grateful that he’s willing to help—“

Nanami couldn’t help himself. He doesn’t like to interrupt clients often, but the more you talk about tour husband, the more he’s having to hold himself back. “That’s the bare minimum.”

You’re slightly taken aback, and you look away from Nanami. A part of you knows that he’s right, but… you didn’t want to bad mouth your husband. A large boulder of guilt settled into your stomach.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now,” Nanami’s voice returns to that gentle tone. “That probably wasn’t appropriate for me to say. I apologize.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, and he knows he has to appropriately handle this if he wants you to feel comfortable enough to open up again.

“I guess I just… It feels wrong talking negative about my husband to another man. It just feels different when I’m ranting with my girl friends.” You straighten your posture and take a deep breath. It feels good getting that out in the open.

Nanami slowly nods his head. He can see why you view that act as troublesome. “So, you’re feeling tense because of our opposing sexes? Tell me. Does your husband know where you are right now?”

“Well, yeah… He was honestly the one who told me I needed help since I don’t feel any sort of sex drive.”

Nanami’s teeth subtly clench together, but he keeps a stoic expression as best as he can. The thought of your husband claiming that there’s something wrong with you absolutely repulses Nanami.

“How does that make you feel?”

Your fingers twitch a bit as you look down to the ground. You should be honest with Nanami if you really want the help that you came here for.

“I guess it makes me feel like I’m not good enough for him. Every time we have sex I try to cater to him, but it just feels like it’s never enough. If he had it his way, we’d probably have sex everyday, but I just don’t have that kind of time, energy, or desire.”

Nanami feels his chest tighten while he listens to you. This is why he hated working with this presenting problem. This man is ruining your confidence and self-esteem, and your low sex drive is either completely natural or it’s because of him.

If Nanami could show you what it was like to be truly loved, he would. Then, you’d probably open your eyes and see that your husband is the one who isn’t good enough for you.

He shakes those thoughts out of his head. He knows he’s bound to a code of ethics. He can’t pursue you romantically or sexually. It’d be morally wrong.

“That’s heavy.” He nods, allowing silence for reflection. He then speaks up again after a pregnant pause, “Let’s break down what you said sentence by sentence, okay? First, you have said that you feel guilty and not good enough in terms of sex.”

You slowly nod, still avoiding eye contact with Nanami. Why didn’t anyone tell you that this would be so emotionally exhausting.

“Do you put a lot of pressure on yourself to perform?”

That question alone opened up the floodgates. Tears bit into your eyes, and you covered your face with your hands. “All the time,” your voice cracked, betraying how deep this affected you.

“Oh dear,” Nanami says softly. He grabs a box of tissues, and he hands them to you. “Sex is meant to feel natural and progressive. It’s understandable that you don’t feel any drive if you’re constantly pressuring yourself.”

You nod as you take the tissues, dabbing your eyes gently.

“I just,” you let out a deep shaky breath, trying to calm your nervous system. “It’s easier to just do it and get it over with rather than to hear him ask multiple times.”

Nanami clenches his jaw. His hand gently finds your shoulder, and he makes you look up at him. “Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this entire session, take this. Asking multiple times even though the answer was clearly a no is coercion. Whenever he asks multiple times, he’s hoping that you get tired of telling him no and just give in.”

Your eyes meet Nanami’s, and your eyebrows furrow a little. Coercion? No.. no, that can’t be right. He’s your husband. He’s just asking to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind. He wouldn’t coerce you into anything you didn’t want to do…

You slightly pull away from Nanami. “I don’t think that’s right… He wouldn’t do something like that. He’s not abusive.”

Nanami leans back. He chides himself internally for going in too deep too quickly. He’s grateful that you’re giving him grace right now. You definitely could’ve just left the session after he blatantly told you that your husband was a conniving piece of shit.

He takes a deep breath. “I apologize. I must have it wrong,” he says as he regains his posture. He knows he needs to make you understand. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Oh—? Uh, no.. no I’m okay, thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s good tea.” Nanami leans in slightly, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure… I don’t really think I can stomach it..” you respond, confused as to why he was suddenly wanting to make you tea.

“Tea is good for digestion. It might help your stomach. You really don’t want any? I can make it quickly with an electric kettle I bought the other day.”

You slouch back a little, a frown covering your lips. “I mean.. I guess tea would be okay.”

Nanami then gives you a knowing look, and the realization hits you. “Did you actually want the tea, or were you just going to accept the tea because I kept pestering you?”

Goddammit. This therapist is good.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah

[warlockslovetomeow]

pairing: caleb x female reader description: caleb’s obsession with your underwear doesn’t seem to stop at just sniffing…. warnings: explicit sexual content, slight pwp, mdni, mention of male masturbation, needy!caleb, clothed sex, unprotected sex, cumming on underwear, caleb’s a freak, this is messyyyyy wc: 2.4k (was supposed to be a short drabble.. don’t EVER put me in a room alone with this man dude im salivating everywhere) a/n: lazily proofread [shame]. continuation of my ask here. (read vic's blog she is goated!!!)

caleb swears it's not an obsession. he really means it, it's not.

it just so happens that every time he goes over to your place your underwear ends up in his possession. but it's not his fault! you have a bad habit of leaving your drawers open when you're getting ready in the morning. so caleb, being the amazing guy that he is, shuts them for you when he comes over to your place.

at least, that's how it started.

it eventually progressed into him snooping and taking a pair. then him snooping and taking a used pair. then him pocketing the ones off of your body after you've both had a time. okay, pocketing them off you every time. but he’s got it under control! he promises himself that it won't be happening again.

it’s just that he hasn’t been able to see you in a while due to both of your schedules being packed with work, so of course he’s going to sift through his growing collection to get as close to you as possible in every nonphysical way he can. the thought of u infects his mind, a dirty little parasite crawling around and making a mess throughout each private sector of his brain. the want for you to be close to him, to touch your body, to hear you, it intensifies as the minutes without you ticked by. 

so, when he hears his phone go off in the middle of rubbing one out to the thought of you while using the panties he stole most recently, he stops dead in his tracks and gives his deepest appreciations to all divine things that must be looking out for him in this world. 

it's not often that you get the opportunity to stay with caleb at his apartment in skyhaven for an extended period of time. said extended time being only three days makes no difference to him, to be frank the mere thought of you being in his presence at all already has his mind working and blood rushing in ways he can’t avoid. wouldn’t dream of avoiding. after reading the text you sent him stating that you got the upcoming weekend off and are planning to visit him, his brain truly fused out.  

caleb knows what self-control is.

he went through intense military training for heaven’s sake. plus he grew up with you and managed to not act on his intense and deep-rooted feelings that consistently threatened to devour him whole. so yeah, he’d say controlling himself is second nature. pshh. light work.

he picks you up from the train station, helps you with your things, gets you settled into his apartment for the weekend, and everything is going swimmingly. he positively can hold himself back until the time is right. totally not nearly bursting at the seams with the need to pounce on you. definitely not already picturing the mess he wants to make of you. this is easy.

then you stride into his living room after changing clothes. you’re beaming at him, so excited to be with your favorite person once more. you’re also, he notices, wearing the smallest sleep shorts possible. shorts that happen to hike up ever so slightly when you take a step. shorts that reveal a sliver of your underwear as you walk around the living room searching for the tv remote.

suddenly, caleb isn’t too sure he can even spell “self-control”.

his eyes track your movements like a radar system locking onto a target. your underwear of choice today isn’t even anything special, a neutral shade of pink that could be found anywhere, at any store, but it doesn’t matter. it shapes your ass perfectly and he groans inwardly at the sight.

or maybe outwardly. he’s already so far gone that he doesn’t know anymore.

caleb’s legs are moving before his mind fully gives them permission to do so and makes his way over to where you stand in the living room. his hands find purchase on your waist, spinning you to face him before leaning in and kissing you.  

the kiss is desperate, hungry, and by no means slow. weeks of longing and desire so evident in the way his lips capture yours, all traces of self-control gone. his tongue pleads for access into your mouth while his hands simultaneously pull your hips against his own, and he’s impossibly hard already. the quickness of it all surprises you, so you pull away to address him, slightly out of breath and confused. which is all to his complete and utter dismay.

“caleb?”

the look on his face is so unimaginably needy, so desperate in a way you've never seen before. he looks as though you've wounded him for even having the thought of pulling away, how dare you create space between us, and it makes you want to indulge him in everything he could possibly ask for right then and there.

“want you”

his voice is breathy and low, completely meddled with lust, and those words are all he manages to get out before immediately leaning in to kiss you again. you kiss him back, the forwardness and obvious want turning you on. the kiss intensifies, caleb doing as he pleases with you, tongue overlapping yours, hands squeezing your body, hips grinding into you so desperately you'd think him a dog. that thought alone has hot, molten desire shooting through your body.

you spread your legs ever so slightly to have his thrusts hit home and moan into his mouth the second they do. the clothed friction arousing you more than you'd like to admit. he picks up on your movements, naturally, he's memorized everything about you, and spins you around so that your back is against his chest.

“been waitin to feel you for so long”

he nearly whines directly into your ear, the truth of his words pressing directly into your backside and causing your mind to go hazy with lust. he trails kisses down your neck and you bite your lip in anticipation, the tone of his voice and hard length touching you getting you beyond worked up.

caleb tugs at your shorts, a silent command to take them off, and you do so with no hesitation. the second your standing straight up again he pulls you against his chest once more and slides his knee in between one of your legs, effectively spreading them apart for easier access.

he then grabs your chin to open your mouth and slips two of fingers inside. not needing to be told what to do, you start sucking on them, twirling your tongue around them in a way that makes him grunt and stiffen behind you. you smile inwardly to yourself, your affect on him palpable.

pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he snakes an arm around your waist and mixes your spit with the wetness already pooling in your underwear. he smirks to himself and chuckles, your need for him clear as day, and does you no favors by trailing his fingers to spread it to your clit.

“so wet and I haven’t even properly touched you yet..”

you whine in response, a needy sound that only spurs him on further. he draws circles around your clothed clit, adding to the arousal already collecting in your underwear to near uncomfortable levels. its sloppy and messy and quickly spreading to your thighs, just how he likes it.

you grind your ass into him, wanting- no, needing- him to touch you skin to skin, and he lets out a sharp hiss at the movement.

“don’t tease, caleb”

your voice is pleading, borderline begging him to give you what you want. unfortunately for you, hearing you beg and get more and more desperate for him is his only true goal in this life. he speeds up his movements and sucks onto your neck in response, surely leaving a mark by the intensity.

“c'mon, you can handle a little bit more. i know you can”

he's thankful you aren't able to see his face currently, because to be honest, he’s barely keeping himself in check. every move you make, every sound that comes from you, god even the way you smell, has each individual nerve in his body screaming at him to rip off your clothes and show you exactly how desperately he’s been missing you in every sense of the word.

yet it’s the almost there, not quite there action of pleasure that’s driving him absolutely wild.

caleb decides to take it a step further, really make things messy the way he gets so hard for, by slipping his dick out and rubbing it against your newly dampened underwear. his pre cum mixes with your wetness and absolutely drenches the seat of your panties.

he lets out a gravelly moan at the feeling, right into your ear, and you have to hold yourself back from finishing right then and there at the sound. you spread your legs wider for him, accepting the pleasure despite the fullness you're craving.

“talk to me pips, wanna hear that pretty voice”

his pace is mind numbing, not too slow, not too fast. the pressure against your core almost enough, but caleb knows better than to give it all to you. on top of that, his dick being so close but not directly touching you is making your brain go haywire.

“please cal, no more. need you inside.”

“uh huh. what else?”

you whine at his demand for more, and you're burning with the delicious friction due the mess between the both of you right now. you rack your brain, fighting the urge to give in to him and just full on beg for more. he wants to see it so badly, wants to hear the pitch change in your voice and feel your thighs squirm once you do. he can clearly feel the want u have for him, its currently staining his pants, but he needs to hear it as well.

“can't take it. need you so bad, need more. you feel so good, always feel so good. im yours, only yours. please”

you're a rambling mess at this point, only caring about the desire that's building inside you and caleb’s prenatural ability to get you there faster. curses flow from his mouth freely at your words, and he walks you towards the arm of the living room couch, tapping twice on your back to bend over for him.

the second you're bent in front of him, he moves your panties to the side and sinks in between your drenched folds. you moan his name lewdly as his tip hits directly on your clit and tears almost spring to your eyes at the long desired sensation.

caleb’s knees nearly buckle, the teasing doing a number on you both, and he digs his hand into your waist to steady himself. he grinds between your folds once, twice, and right before you're about to get onto him again for his incessant build up, he thrusts inside you like a dog gone rabid. a cry rips from your throat and your vision almost blurs, the pace brutal and the feeling somehow impossibly too much and too little.

“couldn’t stop thinkin about you-fuck- thinkin about how tight you always are for me”

it's his turn to ramble now, his words accompanied by each pointed thrust inside you. he drinks in the sight of his dick slipping in and out of you, with no resistance whatsoever, sliding right past the ruined underwear that still clings to your body, and has to mentally stop himself from cumming just at the sight.

“hate when you're not here, hate that i have to fuck my fist to the thought of you”

you moan at his confession, his dirty words combined with the slight friction of your panties against your clit building the pressure inside you and causing your leaking arousal to spread from the mess that is your core to his thighs.

“shit! love making a mess on this pussy. you like it too, huh pip? wanna hear you say it”

you’re so close, him talking to you so conversationally while fucking you in doggy and hitting that deep spot inside you has your mind spinning.

“yes yes i love making a mess for you!! gonna cum-”

your quick confession has his dick straining, fighting to not empty his load without warning. he needs you to finish first, he’s got one more thing in the back of his mind that needs completing.

caleb shifts your hips closer to him so he can pull your sopping underwear further to the side and rub your clit. perfect circles have you clawing at the couch and clenching around him so tightly that he's not too sure he’ll last.

“such a dirty girl, you're drippin everywhere. need you to be good and cum on me yeah?”

his flithy mix of degradation and need send you hurtling off the edge as white, hot pleasure courses through you. you cum with a newfound intensity that only caleb would be capable of pulling from you.

said man bites his lip hard enough to draw blood to stop himself from finishing with you, everything about you cumming on his cock making him go mad. a couple more thrusts and he realizes he can’t take it any longer, the feeling of you spasming around him becoming too much.

caleb pulls out of you, readjusts your underwear the best he can with what little time he has while still pumping himself, and cums all over the fabric with a series of broken groans. at first he tries to aim and make the most effective mess he can, but he soon loses himself to how fucking good it feels. he's left reeling from the intensity, but he can't look away from you. he genuinely wishes he could burn this image into his mind forever. however, he finds himself saying this every time you have sex.

as you both catch your breath, he leans forward to kiss your back, shoulders, neck, jaw, all places of exposed skin. while doing so he makes sure to mix all the fluids together on the soaking wet article of clothing, his ministrations leaving you twitching in overstimulation.

once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slips them off of you and picks up your spent body, carrying you to his bedroom and laying you down on his bed with the gentleness of a soft afternoon breeze.

"grabbin a towel, honey. don't go walking all around the apartment now"

you roll your eyes at his words, as you've already sunken into the mattress and couldn't be paid to leave this bed. he chuckles knowingly in response, but before he leaves the room he sneaks a final glance to make sure your eyes are closed.

its then that he opens the top drawer of his dresser and places your underwear inside, the newest member of his prized collection<3

a/n (2): first fic and naturally it’s my munch caleb. hope it doesn’t sound too clunky as this is also my first time writing out smut🫣 i will prevail and become a smut writing champion!!!

@tojicide this one is for you friend, hope u enjoy ^_^

[fiapple]

Hey everyone, @wafs-posts and I have been talking, and she has asked me to reach out to all of you with a message:

Wafa's little girl appeals to all of you, people of compassionate hearts and humanity, to donate so that she can meet her mother and be treated. Donate for this beautiful child. Give her hope that they will meet soon. Please donate, share, and tag those with large accounts to help and save Wafa's little girl and her family and make her embrace her mother. They live in… They go to war alone in difficult circumstances, and her mother is their sole breadwinner 🥺🥺🙏

Wafaa is a kind, compassionate, warmhearted woman who wants nothing more than to be able to reunite with her family and bring them somewhere that they can all be safe. For months, Wafaa has been putting every last bit she has into this campagin in order to do so. The campaign recently hit the the halfway point, and has been making it's way closer to the goal, but she & her family have been experiencing consistent lulls in donations thereby making the situation increasingly worrisome, as Wafaa needs the funds to both evacuate her family and to help them access whatever resources (in particular regarding food & water) that are available to them within the Gaza Strip. She is doing everything in her ability to support her family, made up of 15 people including a small newborn who has been struggling due to the conditions they are living in. Wafaa is incredibly worried for them, particularly her daughter and grandchildren. Her young granddaughter in particular is like a princess to the family, as they love to spoil her. Her family should be allowed to find safety and allowed to find peace.

Please, everyone, Wafaa is one of the most caring and steadfast people that I have ever met. Please, take the time to read she & her family's story, and give whatever you are able in order to help reunite.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

fine line ── l. hs (teaser!)

update: this fic's been posted! click here to read <3

↳ summary ── heesung's got two problems: (1) he can't sleep, and (2) he's addicted to the 1AM combo of instant ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe to glare at the new night shift employee, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee. and you don't know what's worse: his weird food choices or his apparent superiority complex. either way, if you have to watch him inhale another bowl like it's his last meal ever, you might lose it. but hey, you know what they say—there’s a fine line between love and hate...

↳ pairing ── heeseung x f!reader

↳ genre ── idol!heeseung, e2l!au, strangers to lovers!au || crack, fluff, teensy bit of angst because a certain someone doesn't know how to communicate their feelings...

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── haii everyone it's been a long time coming...i've been having a MAJOR writer's block and also just kinda taking a break because work has been more tiring on my body so i've just been exhausted recently so i apologize for the lack of content,,,but WE'RE BACK! if anyone's ever watched backstreet rookie (it's my comfort show i love kim yoo-jung), i'm kinda going for those romcom vibes here hehe. this sneak peek isn't as revealing as my others,,,it's quite short but this one is gonna be a lil more rom-com mixed with eventual angst because what is heeseung if not a yearner?

send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3 (current tag list at end of post :D )

snippet under the cut!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

“So…do you actually enjoy these together, or are you just trying to destroy your stomach lining?” 

He freezes. Great, you’re talking. So much for a perfect night. 

He adjusts his cap to peer at you and the same unimpressed, judgemental look sitting on your face as you lean against the counter behind you. “What’s wrong with my choices?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up, “What right with them? This combo screams, ‘I have unresolved issues I’m trying to boil away with spice and sugar.’” 

Okay, ouch. 

Heeseung narrows his eyes, trying to ignore the weird pinch in his chest at how quickly you read him, whether he likes to admit it or not. 

“I like them. That’s all that matters,” his voice drips with a certain sharpness, hoping the edge in his tone is enough to make you back off. 

You, however, seem entirely unfazed.

“Just trying to help—” you shrug as you scan his items, “looking out for your poor taste buds.” 

For a moment, Heeseung considers firing back, but then his gaze catches yours for a millisecond too long as you take his cash and, immediately, he’s wondering—for the hundredth time—if you know. 

Do you recognize him? 

The thought has been gnawing at him since the first time he stepped into this store and saw you sitting there five days ago. Sure, he’s got his identity pretty much concealed under his borderline clinically insane hat-mask-hoodie combo, but still—most people at least give him a double take, a lingering glance. Something. 

But you? Nothing. No flash of recognition. No curiosity. Nothing to indicate you know you’re talking to Lee Heeseung—part idol, part insomniac, 100% ramen enthusiast. 

And for some reason, that both annoys and intrigues him. 

“Thanks for your concern,” Heeseung mumbles dryly, quickly grabbing the ramen cup and cold drink from your hands. 

“No problem,” you chirp just as sarcastically, an annoying smile on your face. “Enjoy your…uh, gourmet meal.”

Heeseung throws you one last glare before shaking his head and stalking off to the self-serve station. He puts the cup down on the counter with a little more force than necessary and pours boiling water over the noodles, glaring into the steam as your voice rings in his head. 

What’s wrong with ramen and coffee milk? He scowls. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I definitely don’t have unresolved issues. 

But as he steals a glance back at the check-out counter and catches you sorting bills like nothing happened, a weird unease settles in his chest. 

He looks down at this ramen, then at the coffee milk. 

For the first time ever, he feels…self-conscious. 

And now you’re in his head. 

Great. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

this made me crave ramen.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)

<3, addie

current tag list: [bolded couldn't be tagged, sorry :( ]

@xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaaah @heejamas @jiyeons-closet @sagegreenhairclip @betda @ineedsomezzz @motherscrustytoenailclippings @bussolares @soobnuuy @deluluscenarios @chrrific @vvenusoncasual @rairaiblog @mwahvvis @lveegsoi @desssss-0 @hoonkishoe @sunhyeswife @ilovbeshotaro @dearestdreamies @starry-eyed-bimbo @planetmarlowe @lovialy @ambi01 @elairah @therealmrsbahng @lov4hoon @hollxe1 @lovenha7 @ilovhoonie @coqhee @i03jae @letwiiparkjay @manuosorioh @mintysunoo @amiraazzz @renaishun @enhadd @ikeulove @starniras @heartheejake @zaycie

[athenaeum-of-the-herald]

Types of Divination

I recently saw my friend Dagan ( @olympianbutch ) respond to an ask about his forms of divination and thought it'd be fun to go over the ones I know of! A lot of people know of tarot and pendulum but there's so many more that deserve to be be tried and maybe someone will find a new method that works for them ♡

• 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 •

Tarot- One of if not THE most well-known forms of divination. Tarot typically consists of a 78 card deck with 22 major arcana cards and 56 minor cards. These cards typically have a set and known meaning universally across all decks.

Lenormand- A (usually) 36 card deck typically used for fortune telling. As opposed to tarot, lenormand is read in a sequence and is considered more straightforward than tarot. One of the most common readings for lenormand would he The Grand Tableau, which uses the entire deck to create a "snapshot".

Oracle Cards- Oracle cards vary vastly across different decks, as each deck has different cards with different meanings. They typically create a more specific answer than tarot.

Cartomancy- Tarot is often confused as cartomancy, but cartomancy is its own separate divination style. Cartomancy typically involves using a deck of playing cards for divining questions. It has its own reading system separate from tarot and usually involves some numerology in its deciphering.

• 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 •

Capnomancy (smoke reading)- Divining messages and answers from smoke. Incense smoke is one of the most common, but other fire sources producing smoke can be used.

Geomancy- Divination done through identifying patterns created in the earth (or on paper). The diviner will create geomantic figures at random (with 16 possible combinations) and divine messages and answers from them.

Hydromancy- Divining through water by observing reflections and ripples (either naturally occurring or created.

Botanomancy- A method that involves burning herbs, plants, or branches and diving messages/identifying energies through the smoke and flames.

Cledonomancy- A method involving "overheard words". The diviner will cover their ears while asking their question or for advice, leave their location, and then unplug their ears. The words and sounds they hear will be their response. This was typically done while asking the Hermes Agoraios questions and leaving the agora/walking away from the statue.

• 𝐈𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 •

Pendulum (dowsing)- A form of divination that uses a pendant, typically on an evenly distributed chain or cord, to divine messages. The most common way it's done is by asking the pendulum (or spirits/entities etc) how the pendulum will swing for yes, no, and maybe answers. It is also common to use a pendulum board which has set spaces for yes, no, maybe, and occasionally letters for more refined answers.

Ouija- Also known as a spirit board, a suitable board consists of a board with yes, no, and alphabet, and goodbye at the bottom. A planchette is used to spell messages from the spirit/entity and answer auestions. It is known practice to always end an ouija board session by sliding the planchette to the "goodbye" section of the board.

Scrying- A divination method typically involving an obsidian mirror, a crystal ball, a pool of water in darkness, etc. A candle is commonly lit and the diviner falls into a trance-like state in which they'll see images and scenes depicted in the reflections.

Ceromancy (Wax reading)- A method that commonly involves the diviner pouring candle wax into water and deciphering the imagery seen above and below the surface of the water.

Tasseography (Tea reading)- Divination involving a tea cup and the leaves of the tea. The majority of the tea is drank, leaving just a small amount in the cup. The remaining leaves in the cup are interpreted typically for fortune telling.

Bibliomancy- The opening of a book to a random page and line/passage to divine messages and answers.

Astragalomancy (dice casting)- Throwing dice, typically to divine short answers. The reader will usually assign meaning to each number of the dice, the most common being yes, no, maybe.

I'm definitely missing more than a few, and several of these have been described to their bare minimum because they're fairly complex (ie, geomancy), but I had fun making this list regardless. Maybe I'll make in-depth posts about some of the more complex ones.

Regardless! I hope you found this informative in any way. Safe travels ♡

[sabertoothwalrus]

so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.

First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!

Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.

But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.

On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.

However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.

But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.

The alternative is indie animation.

With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.

The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.

And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.

Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.

And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)

And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.

You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!

Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.

So it’s tricky.

Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.

I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.

[txttletale]

hey what DO you watch on youtube? seems like you'd have some neat recommendations :3

i really loathe the like super-highly edited sound effect post-mrbeast slop most of youtube is now so i mostly like stuff that's like... calm and sedate. stuff i've been watching lately in no particular order:

northernlion vods and clips. he's an OG. i especially like his react court series, i must have watched all of them like five times.

speaking of OGs i've been watching zero puncutation (now fully ramblomatic) for like ten years and if anything it's only gotten better. best game review content on the internet. been really enjoying his more recent, slightly longer and more thoughtful 'extra punctuation/semi-ramblomatic' series too.

any austin's skyrim unemployment rate videos. instant classics to me, it's just a guy going around in skyrim trying to figure out the unemployment rate in every town. it's a very dry kind of humour, he plays it admirably straight, and it's weirdly calming.

kitten arcader's foot the bill videos. in a kind of similar vein, he watches the saw movies and then produces an itemized bill for everything jigsaw needed to buy to make his traps. it's kind of like... if cinemasins was fundamentally curious instead of fundamentally incurious, it scratches a similar sort of nitpicky detail-oriented quantifying itch but without inimical to the concept of art.

shuffle up and play. it's a magic the gathering play series that has enough editing that the gamestate is actually legible but not enough editing (or at least, not enough obtrusive in-your-face editing) that its annoying. i also like that they reguilarly play non-edh formats like cube and pauper.

spice8rack. i'm pretty picky about video essays but spice8rack has very obviously actually read books and has interesting things to say about the topics it discusses (mostly magic: the gathering). sometimes it has a kind of grating Theater Kid Energy but the fact that it actually meaningfully structures essays and analysis to earn the silly long runtimes is a rare delight from a video essayist.

jenny nicholson is a long-time favourite and another permanent fixture in my rotation. she's just extremely, remarkably funny which makes her the only 'basically just summarizing a thing' youtuber i think is worth the time of day.

i watch some sketch comedy, mainly wizards with guns and aunty donna, who both consistently put out really funny stuff that's kind of ITYSL-adjacent in its barefaced absurdism and contenmpt for concepts like "stopping a joke at the logical punchline". i also really like alasdair beckett-king and binging the old clickhole backlog for short-form comedy on youtube.

wolfeyvgc is right on the edge of the level of editing i find tolerable but as a long-time fan of multiple esports he Has It, he's absolutelyt fantastic at t elling the narrative of a tournament, explaining plays clearly, and generally making competitive pokemon esports thrilling and interesting ti someone (me) who#s never played it and doesn't care about pkoemon that much

i religously watch every elliespectacular/dathings YTP, the absolute best in the game right now, top tier snetence mixing and really good at actually setting up and paying off jokes in a way it feels like a lot of ytp doesn't. verytallbart is also pretty good.

trapperdapper is a channel i recently binged, it's a really fucking funny parody of minecraft challenge content that veers slowly from obvious angles of parody into pure absurdism with tons of blink-and-you'll miss it subtle visual gags.

too much future is a great youtube series where the two guys from just king things/homestuck made this world play through every fallout game and analyze them in that context. extremely funny and also just top-tier very sharp analysis. really good

another one of the rare good video essayists is jan misali. they're really funny and will go into topics that kind of seem narrow or strange to begin with in such depth and make them so interesting that it's consistently astonishing.

oh and finally sarah z makes pretty good videos. 'the narcissist scare' is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of one of the most annoying pop-psych phenomena of the last couple years. and remarkably well script supervised i think did anyone else watch it and think 'wow the script supervisor on this must have been, a mind geniuse'

ok i think that's all i've been watching lately. hope you like whcihever of these recs you check out :)

[skycowboys]

hi larn ! i've been scrolling and scrolling through your page, i'm so obsessed with your work. any fun facts or trivia about scrubs or peg that you can share? they're such a goofy duo. playing around with making an oc for this world and i want to give scrubs all the cool cameos in my oc's lore that he deserves

thanks :) --atlas

Hi there! Glad you made it to my blog :)

Ahhhh Scrubs, our favorite bandit. You know what, let's do a little lore-drop! Grab some coffee, and get ready to read lol

Born as "Hennison Foyer", he had no true home growing up, instead spending early life with a seedy traveling merchant caravan. There were more snake-oil salesmen in the caravan than actual goods merchants. He learned quickly that strong-arming others rewarded him with more resources, and there were hardly any ethics enforced to stop him. He left the caravan to drift in his early teens, and relied on petty crime for just about everything.

The years that followed were a consistent climbing of the ladder of infamy. Scrubs made a name for himself for being particularly ruthless and for having the guts to pull off dangerous or high-risk heists. From hitting banks to stealing a flashy pegasus, then having the gall to actually fly her and be recognized from a long ways off, most pilots and law enforcement have a mix of respect and disdain for him. He's opportunistic, skilled, and fearless - acting on impulse rather than premeditating against victims. While Scrubs has been plaguing mainly the Talon Lands for a solid 15 years now, he has been spotted in every region over the years.

Said flashy pegasus is Peg. The meanest mare on the planet. She's temperamental, loves to bite, and takes no prisoners. But Peg is also smart. Despite their adversarial "relationship", she's the only pegasus that will tolerate his intense flying, and he's the only pilot that will tolerate her attitude.

Scrubs is now in his upper 30s or so and mainly haunts the Talon Lands, making a "living" via preying on solo pilots and stealing their money/supplies. He also scavenges the remains of ill-fated prospector groups and explorers. The Talon Lands are famous for its legends of gold easily mined from exposed veins amongst the many thin chasms. And while there definitely is gold there, the landscape is a hostile wasteland - hot, windy, and rife with bandits, so actually finding, mining, and escaping with any gold at all is nearly impossible. Scrubs is undeniably top-dog among the riffraff, and they scatter like crows before a vulture when he finds something to scavenge or a victim to steal from.

His sightings recently have been centered in the north of his territory, near a little homestead that's used as a rest-stop by traveling merchants and prospectors. It's situated on beautiful, clear water creek, which has created an oasis for whoever might be hardy enough to live that close to bandit country.

It's run by a woman named Bonnie along with her two adopted kids, and has turned the rundown homestead into a tidy little business. Many assume that Scrubs is using the homestead to case new victims instead of hunting them down out in the wastelands, but rumors whisper that Bonnie has some sort of dirt on him because he, nor any other bandit, have ever robbed her. Or perhaps they have a deal worked out, but he's only been directly witnessed on the homestead property once or twice by traveling tenants so there's a lot of speculation. Bonnie changes the subject when asked about it.

-

So yeah, there's a little rundown on Scrubs. He'll show up in Greenhorn Trail (which I'll be officially announcing soon!!), and I may or may not have another comic outlined that features him specifically lol. But I need to finish Molly's comic first!

~ Larn

--

Sky Cowboys Discord Community | Patreon | Art Prints

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman!

Thank you so much for your work! You and everyone from the team made a wonderful (albeit heartbreaking) season 2!

I have some questions that I've been wondering about since my first watch-through:

Hell has appointed Shax as a replacement for Crowley - did Heaven deem it unnecessary to send a replacement for Aziraphale? Or does he just not know about that?

And what is the reason Aziraphale got to keep his bookshop? Considering Hell took Crowleys flat away and gave it to Shax, it surprised me that Heaven just lets Aziraphale stay there.

Once again thank you and good luck with the strikes!

(PS: I've started reading "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" recently and I absolutely love it, I hope I can still catch the theater production this year!)

Aziraphale owns his bookshop (and some of the land around it). He bought the land in the 1630s, built the bookshop in the 1790s. He always made sure that everything was paid for and only did miracles to obtain things in the most dire circumstances.

Crowley couldn't be bothered with buying things. He bought the Bentley (and, in the 1960s, a full tank of Petrol for the Bentley), but normally in Crowley's world paying for things is something other people do, and it's a minor enough and consistent enough miracle that it's just become a way of life. His flat was paid for by Hell's finance department and as far as Hell is concerned it belongs to them.

[maxxiemoa]

Erik x reader: Best friends brother

An: Got a cute request for Erik x Julia’s best friend. So here it is. Xoxo

Summary: You are Julia’s friend from college. You recently have found yourself in a bad situation. You are starting to have feelings for her older brother Erik.

You must admit you aren’t the most chatty person. You don’t go out of your way to meet new people and even when you are with people you know you are pretty quiet. So when you started college you were scared. You didn’t have your small high school group of “friends” to hang around with. You were essentially alone.

Julia was heaven sent to you. An outgoing, chatty, and quite friendly girl. The complete opposite of you. But she somehow chose you. Out of everyone in class she chose you.

One day after class she came up to you and asked if you wanted to join her at her club meeting. She said it was a book club. I mean I do know how to read and do enjoy it so I thought “why not?”.

So off Julia and I went across campus to her book club meeting. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she did not read the book they were discussing and that she really did not seem all that interested in the chats going on around her. She was truthful just focused on you and her. She complemented my style and asked me about what sort of music I was into. She eventually concluded that I would make great friends with her brother Erik.

So her mission begun. She was very excited to introduce me to not only her brother but her whole family. Her enthusiasm when I agreed to come to one of her families barbecue parties made me feel all warm and fuzzy. I had never really been good at making or keeping friends but Julia seemed to understand and bot mind doing all the hard work of setting up times to hang out.

Meeting her family was nice. They have a beautiful backyard area with a trampoline and a whole bar set up. It’s so beautiful. Her father tells me it’s because he wanted his children to have the childhood he wasn’t able to have. It’s not that hard to understand how that man raised such a sweet daughter.

Julia is truly such an angel. But I guess that must make me Judas or something because the second I came face to face with her brother Erik all thought of her went out out the door.

When Julia said we would get along she really meant it. Erik has these captivating blue eyes and he lines them with eyeliner. His wardrobe consists of darker edgy type clothing and his hair is this thick brown fluffy mess. God he makes my knees weak.

I’ve never had a boyfriend because I’ve never found myself interested in anyone. Not talking to people really makes your dating pool very tiny. And in my case, nonexistent.

I don’t know what came over me but I somehow worked up the courage to ask for his number. And by ask I mean I made a fool of myself by asking him for his “number thingy”. God I wanted to die right there. “Yeah sure, I’ll send you some of my playlists if you send me some of yours. Julie says we have a lot in common. We should definitely hang out sometime” he says like it’s the most clear thing in the world.

I am now reduced to a smiley blushing mess. Later that night I get some texts with links to “Erik’s favorite rock songs” and “Erik’s recommendations for y/n” my heart flutters as I realize he put together a playlist of songs just for me. Say what you want but romance is NOT dead.

An: I know this is short so definitely tell me if you want more of this.

[cursed-peanut]

A/N: Hello everyoneeee!!! As promised, here is part 2 of Reunited!! I will be making more parts however it won’t be like a fic, more like a combination of scenarios, headcanons, etc. If you have any questions or thoughts on this AU, my ask box is always open and so are my comments. My taglist is also open! If you’d like to be added, lmk! Please make sure I can tag your account first though. May sound silly but I couldn’t tag some people because they had tagging disabled. If you were one of the people who asked to be tagged but wasn’t, please change that in Tumblr settings :) Anyway, this kinda gave yandereish vibes at the end??? If you want me to turn it into that or write a spin off where Sukuna is a Yandere for reader, lmk in the comments 💗 Anywho, happy reading and I hope you all enjoy this as much as you all did in part 1 <333

————————————

“You are to be monitored by me at all times! If you get caught walking around by yourself well…I will either get an earful from the old hags at the top or they’ll have both of our heads, no in between!” Gojo Satoru tells you in a tone way too cheerful for what he was telling you.

“What? Why? I don’t even have any cursed energy, I’m just a regular human, I’m not some powerful sorcerer.”

“That is exactly why. We’re keeping your presence under the radar for now, but as soon as it inevitably slips out that you’re back and so is Sukuna, so will immediately become a target.”

“That’s not true. ‘Kuna may not be back to his full power, however he is still strong. No curses and sorcerer’s alike would dare hurt someone so close to the King of Curses.”

“While you may be right that he’s powerful even though Sukuna isn’t at his full potential, your ‘Kuna’ currently has the power of one of his fingers and is stuck in a fifteen year old boys body. He could easily be evaded by fellow special grade curses and curse users. Please realise this is for your safety.”

This doesn’t make sense to you. Yes, he’s not at his full power, but it’s not like you’ll be leaving Jujutsu Tech anyway. After all, you don’t go on missions, you’re not a Jujutsu Sorcerer and you will never have a chance to — not that you want to anyway. So logistically there is no need for your protection. Are they worried sorcerers might attack you? That’s surely a fault in the system of their schooling and society if they’re scared of that. Or maybe…they don’t trust you?

“They want me dead because of my relation to ‘Kuna, don’t they?” Gojo’s deafening silence answers your question. “Why?”

“Because they’re afraid that there’s a possibility you’re hiding a powerful technique from us. I personally don’t believe you are deceiving us, but even if you were, I’d be able to stop you anyway. So don’t be become all cocky with delusion. Thinking you can defeat me.” He grins.

“Mhm, well…thank you then.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for believing in me,” You shakily sigh. “I’m happy to know someone is willing to stand up for me.”

“Of course! I would get a mopey Yuji if you died, and who knows how Sukuna would react, but I know for a fact it would not end well. Talking of Yuji and Sukuna, we should go check on them now!”

That’s right. Itadori has recently been announced as dead, however it seems Itadori must have made some sort of pact with Sukuna to revive him. You and Gojo, along with a few others at Jujutsu Tech, are the only people who know he’s alive. Gojo seems to take this opportunity to train Itadori well, and what that truly means is most of the time he conducts experiments that mainly consist of Gojo purposely annoying Sukuna to see how Itadori’s body would react. Most experiments involved you in some way — he found Sukuna’s threats very amusing, but what he found even more amusing is your ability to make the King of Curses sulk for a day by simply lightly reprimanding him for these threats.

“‘Kuna! That is no way to talk to someone. He just wanted a hug.”

“Yeah ‘Kunaaaa. I just wanted a hug.”

“Gojo-Sensei, please. Stop angering him. It’s getting harder and harder to suppress him.”

“This is exactly why I’m doing this! To help you learn how to suppress Sukuna, no matter the circumstances.” Gojo explains. While that may be partly true, Itadori knows that’s a lie. He’s doing this because it’s funny to him.

“You better watch it, Sorcerer scum,” Sukuna grits. “May I remind you that when I make this idiots body my own, I’m killing you first.”

“‘Kuna!” You scowl, hugging Gojo tighter to Sukuna’s dismay. Gojo flashes a shit-eating-grin Sukuna’s way for one last time and lets go of you.

“Thank you, Sensei. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could suppress him for.” Itadori sighs. You sit down next to him and give him a warm hug, rubbing circles on his back. Itadori looks up at you with warm eyes as you press a kiss to his forehead. You always bring the mummy issues out of him.

Meanwhile, in Sukuna’s domain, Sukuna is looking at you through Itadori’s eyes and he can’t help but marvel at you. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, and you’re so unbelievably near. He wishes he could take his vessel’s place, return to his former glory with you by his side, but that will have to wait.

He will return to his former glory and you will be at his side when that happens. But above all else, what makes his wait all the more worth it, is the world he plans to create will be perfect for you and him. You wouldn’t need to worry about any disgusting sorcerers killing him and sealing you again.

Even if you hate him for killing the sorcerers, he can live with that. As long as you still love him, and stay by his side, he can deal with that.

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[abby-howard]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!