#and right now my brain is generally all over the place because my semester is coming to a close and things are very very hectic

[idiopath-fic-smile]

so literally eight years ago i posted a snippet of a modern retelling of Much Ado About Nothing set in a student co-op and for no particular reason, the concept is tickling my brain right now. so uh here, have this? i guess?

“So, Ursula, my dear,” said Lee, taking the seat across from her at the dinner table. “My fluffy little crumpet. My buttery brioche bun. My tangy slice of pumpernickel—”

Ursula squinted up from her Anthro reading. “Uh-oh,” she said. “You only call me bread when I’m in trouble.”

“Happened to glance at the meeting notes this morning,” Lee continued, her voice rising. “You’ve got anything you wanna explain or defend?”

Ursula flicked her highlighter from one finger to the other, determined to play it cool. “I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Which meeting notes, exactly, were you glancing at?” She peeked out of the corner of her eye to check how this was going down. 

Poorly. 

Lee stared at her, apparently at a loss for words, which was not a great look for the house president.

“You did this more than once.”

“I take notes every meeting, Lee,” she said, as levelly as possible given how Lee’s ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ Mom vibes were oozing from every pore. “It’s my job, as house secretary.”

“Is it?” said Lee tightly. “Is it your job?” She whisked opened her laptop and read aloud: 

“Benedick’s eyes blazed with passionate fury. His nostrils quivered. ‘Well,’ he said in a low growl, hair resplendent under the environmentally friendly fluorescent lights, ‘personally, I think if anything, there's not ENOUGH lentils—’ Beatrice gasped. It was so wrong, and yet…”

Ursula winced. “‘Said in a low growl’ is wordy. I should’ve just put ‘growled’.”

Lee pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ursula,” she began, “just how much of our official co-op house notes, which by the way are formally submitted each month to the Co-op Board, are written as if Benedick and Beatrice’s stupid arguments are some kind of torrid Harlequin paperback?”

“That depends.” Ursula steepled her fingers, dropping the highlighter in the process. “How much of my notes do you have access to?”

“All of them,” Lee gritted out. “Because they’re public. That’s what I’m saying.”

 “Look,” said Ursula. “I don’t think I said this when I ran, but I wanted to be house secretary in the first place because a lot of the time, taking notes is the only way I can make myself concentrate. I would literally be taking notes during the meeting anyway. It’s an ADHD thing.” 

Ursula sighed. “And pretty early on, it became clear that meetings in Messina House are basically just a Sexual Tension Thunderdome for Benedick and Beatrice. They go back and forth for pages sometimes. I can feel every electrical connection in my brain fighting to zone out. So yeah. For a while I rewrote their fights as rhymed couplets, for a very short bit of time I had Balthazar set them to sea shanties, and since last December, I’ve been transcribing very close to their actual words, with very close to their actual intentions, plus just a tiny bit of genre trimmings. If they’re gonna waste my Saturday and test my focus, I’m doing what I can to stay awake and keep my typing fingers limber. I’m up to 75 WPM, by the way.”

“December?” Lee repeated. “Ursula, it’s October. You’ve been doing this for over a semester?” A terrible wave of realization seemed to sweep over her just then, regarding the general pacing and content of a standard Harlequin. “Please tell me,” she whispered, “there is no sex in the meeting notes—”

“There’s no sex in the meeting notes,” Ursula interrupted. “Per se,” she added under her breath.

Lee’s lips were pressed together into a thin line. “One year,” she said. “I want one year where nobody drives a motorcycle down the hallway or accidentally mixes up chlorine gas during their bathroom clean, or spends almost a full calendar year slipping smut into the public record—!”

“Excuse you,” said Ursula. “Smut’s a different genre altogether. This is romance. Slow-burn, enemies to lovers.”

Lee threw up her hands, nearly knocking over her laptop. “What are you gonna do if Benedick or Beatrice sees this?” “Oh.” Ursula froze. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, uh-oh,” she said. “Look, clearly there’s only one thing to do.”

Ursula nodded. “Right, we have to execute a series of far-fetched shenanigans designed to turn those two fighting fish into a pair of cooing lovebirds, stat.”

“No,” said Lee. “What? No, you need to go back and rewrite all of—”

Pedro slid into the room in his socks. “Oh sweet, are we hooking up Benedick with Beatrice?”

“Hell yeah,” said Ursula. They high-fived.

Lee closed her laptop with a snap. “Ursula, what are the odds,” she said, “that you actually buckle down and rewrite all of the meeting notes to read like they were written in the genre of meeting notes?”

“Oh, like, zero,” said Ursula, as Pedro chimed in, 

“Yeah, that will not happen.”

Lee looked despairingly back and forth between Ursula and Pedro. “What do you think is the likelihood that playing love gods will like, actually, genuinely work?”

“Twenty percent,” said Ursula.

Margaret glanced up from the other end of the table, where she was gluing together a collage of every restaurant on campus that had ever given her food poisoning. It was for class, was the thing.

Art school kids, man.

“We’re tricking Benedick and Beatrice into giving themselves over to their intense chemistry?” asked Margaret.

“Thirty percent,” said Ursula, because Margaret was inscrutable much of the time but surely they would have a fighting chance with more of the Humanities on their side.

At “intense chemistry,” Lee shuddered. “That reminds me,” she said, standing and scooping up her laptop, “I need to post a sign in the basement bathroom warning people not to mix bleach with acid.”

“Are you in?” said Pedro as Lee attempted to slip out the door. “Love Gods?”

“Jesus Christ,” said Lee.

“Not a love god,” Margaret announced. She had found the sequins, and was applying them with enthusiasm. “Except in the general Peace on Earth sense, I guess.”

“I’m texting Hero,” said Ursula, digging for her phone. “She knows Beatrice better than anyone. She’ll have tips. That puts our potential success rate at 45%, easy.”

“If we’ve got Hero, we’ve got Claudia,” Pedro added. “And she’s been BFF with Benedick since freshman year.”

“This is a terrible plan,” Lee muttered. “Yeah,” said Ursula, “but you implied it yourself. If, uh, certain parties see my meeting notes, they will murder me. Do you really want a fellow co-oper’s blood on your hands?”

Just then, Benedick burst into the room, Beatrice on his heels.

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice shouted, “are you genuinely trying to argue that soybeans are the superior legume? Soybeans? Over chickpeas? Over kidney beans? Hell, over peas?”

“Soy milk,” said Benedick, counting on his fingers, “silken tofu, miso, tempeh, firm tofu—”

Beatrice took a step closer to him, eyes flashing, “I have never in my life had tempeh that tasted like anything other than an evil Cliff Bar.”

“It’s not my fault your tastebuds were installed backwards,” said Benedick. “This from the woman who still, in the year of some people’s lord 2024, thinks lattes are ‘too trendy’—”

“Espresso is a waste of coffee grounds,” said Beatrice in a low, dangerous voice.

Benedick gasped. “You take that back.”

Beatrice took a step closer. “Coldbrew has more flavor and more caffeine.”

“Coldbrew,” Benedick echoed, stepping even closer. “You’re defending that swill over a nice mocha? Get latte’s name out of your mouth.”

Benedick and Beatrice were standing almost nose to nose, breathing hard.

“You know what?” said Lee from the door. “Ursula? Fuck it, I’m in.”

Ursula whooped. Margaret reached for the glitter glue. Benedick and Beatrice visibly both ran through their mental rolodexes of coffee-related insults. 

From the entryway came the distant revving of a motorcycle engine. Borachio was no doubt doing wheelies in the foyer again, but that was a problem for house presidents, not innocent house secretaries who had done no wrong, thought Ursula as she returned to her reading and her growing mental to-do list.

[lonesome-sometimes]

up on the bookshelf

wheels on the bus 2 and it’s completely different because there is no bus or any form of transport at all really and matty is a librarian but it’s still wheels on the bus 2 (in the brat remix album cover format)

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

matty healy x female reader

content warnings: public sex, sweet service top matty, age gap, oral (female receiving), slight blood kink when you squint, lovey dovey stuff because I miss matty I’m genuinely a trainwreck right now

minors do not interact!

with your reading list in one hand, you huff in annoyance as you fail to find the last few textbooks you needed for the rest of the semester. admitting your defeat, you carry the rest of your books towards the front desk, already dreading the walk back to campus on the other side of town.

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

he looks up from the book he was engrossed in, startled by the loud thud. he takes a second to register who you were, scrambling to push his bookmark into place before turning his full attention towards you. “y/n? oh my go- hey! hey, how are you? god, I haven’t seen you since-”

“since the really, really long and awkward bus ride home with your wife in our presence after you-” you explain nonchalantly, causing the older to choke on his own spit as you remind him of your rest stop bathroom antics, not that he had ever forgotten.

he laughs nervously, pushing a hand through his shorter curls. “I mean, I guess? anyway, what are you doing here?”

“oh, I go to college here.” you say like its obvious, gesturing to nothing as you look around the empty room. “I just hate our campus library, or just our campus in general I suppose, so I come here to study and take my books out. It’s much quieter here, campus is too…studenty?”

he laughs with you, chuckling softly at how ridiculous it sounded. “I get your point, but aren’t you meant to like, enjoy all of that?” he thinks for a moment, shaking his head softly. “nevermind, that’s not the point. this is crazy, what a nice surprise I-”

“you have a moustache now.” you observe out loud, your tongue working quicker than your brain as your eyes lingered on his upper lip and the new strip of hair there, moving down towards the tight sleeves of his grey tshirt and admiring the way it hugged his frame perfectly. “...and you look like you’ve been working out…don’t tell me you…”

his cheeks tinge pink, swinging his chair slightly away from you as he lets out a nervous breath. “I told he, I mean, not about us! not exactly, I just told her how I felt and here I now am, working day shifts at the local library, waiting for my whole music thing to take off, while she vacates on some island somewhere with her neeew husband.” he draws out the new, politely taking a book from an older lady and wishing her a nice day, turning back towards you. “I’m happy here though, the people are nice and well, you’re here.”

It’s your turn to blush at his words, forgetting how sweet he had been with you in the bathroom moments after he had fucked your throat raw. “oh, come on matty, it’s not like you sat and dreamt about me everyday like a fairytale princess waiting for her prince to come…” you half joke half admit about yourself, causing his cheeks to turn a darker shade of pink at the comparison, his secrets spilling without having even said anything.

“oh I seeee.” you singsong as you lean forward, putting your hands on the desk so that you were leaning over him, letting your oversized tshirt fall off your shoulder slightly and revealing your collarbone. not the most flattering outfit you could have worn, but you weren’t exactly expecting your random one bus stand to show up anytime soon. “been thinking about me, matty?”

he visibly swallows, opening his mouth to answer but instead his eyes widen as a mother and daughter approach the desk. you stand up straight again, slightly embarrassed as you pull your tshirt centre again. you watch the exchange, matty smiling ever so sweetly as he hands the young girl her picture book and again wishes them a lovely day. he turns to you once more, sighing softly. “darling, I don’t think now is a good time, I’m working and-”

“matty, I managed to seduce you into fucking my throat with enough time for small talk afterwards inside the bathroom of a service station during a twenty minute rest stop, all while your wife-”

“-ex wife.” he corrects, smiling softly.

“...ex wife, was sitting back on the bus unaware of how her sweet little husband was crying for me and asking me about my favourite radiohead album, and you’re gonna sit here and tell me you can’t have a private conversation with me because you’re at work?”

theres a moment of silence as he looks between you and the empty room, standing up suddenly and grabbing your hand as he pulls you back towards an abandoned section of the library. smiling wide, you expect him to push you up against one of the old bookcases and start kissing you like a man starved as he pulls you in front of him, but it never comes.

Instead, he pulls you in. hands coming up around your waist, he hugs you. unexpected and unsure of what to do at first, you let your arms come up around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as you stroke the hair on the back of his neck softly, letting him breathe you in as you stay silent for a moment.

he pulls away, the both of you laughing as you realise how ridiculous this is, not having shared more than ten minutes alone together that didn’t include a quickie in a restroom. “everything okay, matty?” you ask, pushing his hair away from his face and letting your hand rest against his cheekbones as he nods.

“I wanted to erm, thank you, for helping me realise things about my life and marriage, I might not look like anything special at the moment but since meeting you I’ve been able to find my own place, I have a kitten who I adore, and I actually get to work on my music I-” he stops. “I’m really happy y/n, and I owe that to you.”

for a second you’re worried he’s being completely serious. “m-matty, you surely can’t fully believe I’m to blame for all that, you barely even know me I-”

he starts kissing down your collarbone, letting your tshirt fall again as he sinks down down down till he’s almost kneeling in front of you, his hands coming up towards your tshirt, breathing heavy. “no really darling, thank you so, so much.” he breaths, punctuating each so with a wet kiss to your stomach, kissing and licking at each expanse of skin he can reach. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, the other moving to hold the back of hid head through the fabric of your shirt. somehow this felt much more intimate, more naughty, than the restroom ever did.

he reappears from under your shirt, staring up at you with complete adoration as his fingers dance up your thighs and hooking themselves into the waistband of your leggings. “can I please?” he asks ever so politely, although your pants are already being pulled down low enough so that he can access where he wanted before you had chance to answer. your face was on fire.

“been thinking about doing this since I met you, wanted to taste you so bad darling.” he breaths out against you sending goosebumps across your skin, lips so close to you as he teases before finally settling on your core.

you desperately try to stay quiet, the fact that you were both in a library being some sick torture and punishment for engaging in infidelity beforehand because good god was he good with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit like he was desperate. his large hands almost enveloped your waist, holding you in place as he began to fuck you on his tongue up against the shelf behind you. you thread your fingers through his salt and pepper locks, frowning when it was a little too short to pull. still, you let your fingers stay where they were, your lips bitten red as you tried to conceal your noises.

suddenly he stops, pulling away from you with only a trail of spit connecting the two of you, lips glistening with your wetness. you look down, brows furrowed in confusion as you try and catch your breathe. “w-why’d you stop?”

he giggles before diving in again like a teenager, his hands moving to hook around the backs of your thighs now. you moan around your fist, desperatly trying to stay as quiet as you can but failing miserably. he shushes you, the vibration from his vocal chords not helping your situation as you feel yourself quickly approaching the edge. “m-matty I-”

he pulls away for a small second, eyes wide and hungry. “please cum for me darling, need to feel you cum on my tongue-” he begs, quickly diving back in as he licks you through your orgasm, groaning softly as he feels you clench around his tongue, lapping at your folds as he cleans up your orgasm.

“fuck-” you bring a finger up towards your lip, blood pooling on your tongue from where you had to bite to keep quiet unless you wanted the whole library to hear you. he pulls your leggings back up and over your thighs, the both of you silently thanking somebody for the fact that nobody was looking for cooking books. he smiles up at you dopily, allowing himself to catch his breath before standing back up.

“good?” he breaths out, pulling your bloodied finger to his lips to lick it clean. You couldn’t find the words to answer, nodding as you watch his lips sucking your fingers entranced. He pulls off them with a pop, smiling at the way he left you speechless.

you both forget where you are until an older male comes around the corner, causing you both to jump away from each other. he doesn’t suspect much, why would he? shooting you both a small smile before turning and going back the way he came, sending you both laughing.

“so…” he begins as your giggles come to a stop, shuffling from foot to foot nervously. “I don’t actually finish up in here for another hour, but I could drive you back to campus? your books seemed heavy, and I’m guessing you don’t have a car…”

god, you were so smitten for him and you had only spent less than an hour with him alone at most. “...or I could come to yours?”

he smiles, thinking for a moment as you two start walking back towards the desk, to no surprise the place was still pretty much empty. “wanna see a picture of lilah?”

you squeal at the idea of singing his kitten, sending apologies to nobody at the sudden loud noise coming from you once again. “yes please.” you nod and whisper, the idea of seeing both matty and lilah filling you with warmth.

you were right, the local library was definitely better than the campus library.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

ABFOUEBHWPIFESGBSIBGPISEG OH MY GOD OKAY OKAY OKAY Y-YOU'RE GONNA HIT ME WITH THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL OKAY AAAAHHHH I-I-I-I-I-I-I-

Written for @babacontainsmultitudes <3

You fold your hands together, let them rest on your lap, and inhale and exhale deeply. You can do this. You can do this. It’s a mantra you repeat to yourself, as surely and studiously as you once told yourself everything was going to be O-A-K, as fervently as you once begged yourself to believe your childhood wasn’t slipping away from you and turning into an adult didn’t make everything so complicated. Today, you will try to set aside the burden of adulthood and channel your youthful dreams and wishes again, hoping they will be the key to unlocking a particular kind of magic you’ve struggled with for too long a time. Today, you will become a wolf.

Or, Sparrow reflects on his magic, his family, and himself, and why none of it seems to be working out.

Cute bonus thing under the cut ;)

Here is a little sad love wolf doodle from my amazing wonderful precious girlfriend <3 They made this while I was being dramatic over making a summary for this

(@themissakat ily <333)

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Warmth of Another

Jenna Ortega x Reader

A/N: I don't usually do celeb x reader fics but I had this idea in my head and I needed it out

Part Two

Romania was a wonder this time of year. This was the first time you've ever been to Europe, but it wasn't as a tourist. No, you were working. Working on the set of Netflix's 'Wednesday.'

You got cast as a secondary character for the new season and since it took place during the winter semester of school, that meant dealing with the cold season of Romania. You were used to dealing with snow and chill. Even if you weren't, you were always warmer than most people.

Taking a glance, you could see the rest of the cast suffering in the cold. Especially Jenna. The 'Wednesday' star was bundled up in her costume, winter coat, snood, and gloves and yet she was still shivering. In contrast, you were just in your costume, albeit with a hoodie underneath the school uniform, and winter coat. What helped was having your hands in your pockets. For some reason, as long as your hands were warm, you were warm.

Suddenly, you notice Jenna glaring at you and your relative comfort in the chilly air.

"How the hell are you not freezing right now? I can't even feel my nose."

You let out a laugh in response and shrug. "I've always been a human heater. I actually like winter a lot because of it."

With that knowledge in mind, Jenna begrudgingly trudges towards you and leans against you, trying to sap your heat. You chuckle softly and wrap your arms around the frozen girl. Your coat was actually unzipped so the girl just shoves her arms under that and your school blazer. Almost immediately, the warmth seeps into her body.

"That's it. I live here now."

Jenna then steps back to unzip your hoodie to add another layer of warmth to steal from. You just shake your head as you rub her back, trying to generate more heat for her. It causes her to burrow further into your body and suddenly you jump.

She had buried her frozen nose into your neck and snuck her icy hands into your shirt, letting each frozen appendage hit your bare skin.

"Gah! Some warning next time!?"

Jenna just cackles softly against your neck and nuzzles further. "Gotta make sure you suffer like the rest of us. At least for a little. It's fine, anyway. You're already warm again. It's not fair."

"It's not like I'm hoarding all the heat. You're stealing my warmth right now."

"It's your duty to share." She huffs, warming your neck with her breath. "I'm the lead here. I'm entitled to this comfort." You just snort in response, but you don't say anything else.

It was nice to have Jenna in your arms. You were always a fan, but getting to know her personally made you fall a little bit further. At least you can have moments like this and cherish them. You'll take what you could get.

"Well, I'm here anytime you need a cuddle, warmth, or just a hug. All you gotta do is walk up."

Her hold on you tightens in response. You hope your heart isn't beating too erratically for the girl to notice. At least the blush could be blamed on the cold.

"I will definitely take you up on that."

You hold onto Jenna until the directors call for everyone to be on set. She lets out a long groan and just burrows more into you. So with her still in your arms, you waddle over to the set, holding on until the very last minute. When you let go of her though, something makes you freeze. Jenna gives you a smile and makes her way to her mark, reluctantly shedding her coat to brave the cold. You, on the other hand, had only one thought flooding your brain.

Did you just feel Jenna's lips on your neck?

[takeariskao3]

idk guys things are just weird

this is going to be a very chaotic and disorganized Personal Post (sorry in advance)

i know this is silly and i don't owe anyone anything, but i genuinely feel so sad that i don't have anything to contribute or post today on harry's birthday.

something is up with my writing and i can't quite put my finger on it.. harry and ginny are being...very soft and not in a way that is in-character or plot driven. things are just off. all my plans i have in my head are literally flying out the window everytime i sit down to write and i don't trust if it is the right decision for the story or just some weird mood i'm in that's manifesting in a really out of character tone on the page.

i suppose it could be a couple different things. i haven't met with my therapist in two weeks so my brain could just be overloaded with other crap that i need to process and or decompress before my writing thoughts feel organized again.

my husband has been massively stressed out because of many different things going on in his life separate from our family and so i've been going a little over the top trying to be there for him.

our daughter hasn't been sleeping all that well and she's been fighting a virus/cold for going on about two weeks that i think we are finally on the tail end of.

work for me is bleh. i don't enjoy what i'm doing right now. we are in one of those cycles that is all reporting and data entry and retention analysis and its so boring and just not at all what fulfills me from this position. however in the same vein, the semester is right around the corner so it's also the last push to make sure everything is ready to go for when students return to campus.

i killed a spider today which is like a very big deal for me. i am deathly afraid of spiders and my good friends can attest that when confronted with one i dissolve into a lot of screaming and sweating and general panic. so i def think i am experiencing the aftermath of an adrenaline rush even though that was like five hours ago.

all of this is to say, i think i need a break from wips. specifically already gone and the entire the path from you universe. i feel like this past month has just been me forcing something that doesn't need to be forced. i think if i take a step back from both stories, and quit putting so much pressure on myself, my head will clear and things will start falling into place.

this week is @corneliaavenue-ao3's ficfest! and i hope this will be a really good way to bring to life some of these soft moments that keep trying to knock down the door and also keep me in the habit of writing. i don't want to put a timeline on it and somehow set an expectation for myself or anyone else but i'm guessing you can expect a two/three week longer hiatus for those two stories, and you can probably expect a fair amount of random one shots and/or drabbles from me in the meantime.

i'm sorry if this is disappointing, i can promise it is just as disappointing for me. i miss having a clear head and the words flowing effortlessly. i hope someday i get that back, but for now, i'm going to hope a little time away from those plots helps settle the static that lives inside my head.

as always, thanks for reading and understanding <3

[sarah-denial-cq]

Power In Names

Take a second to think about degrading terms for women. You're here on my Tumblr, so you've probably heard some of them. I thought I would give my thoughts on some of them and what my favorites are. I'm writing this entire post with panties stuffed in my mouth so we'll see how long it goes.

First of all, my favorite, is bitch. When Rose pushed my face down against her clit in her car, pulled over the side of the road on Valentine's day with my ass up in the air and my dress stripped off, and said "suck it, bitch", my mind went so fuzzy. It hit me so good and hard. But why?

"Bitch" drips with gender violence. So many words are generic ("slut", "whore", "slave", etc), or focused on specific body parts ("cunt", etc) or activities ("cocksucker", etc). But "Bitch" cuts through those to my specific identity. And it is unmistakably, unavoidably hierarchical. A bitch is beneath, inferior, contemptible.

I'm so fucking wet and squirmy writing this, sorry.

But that's not all. The actual sound of the word has so much to do with it. "Bitch" starts with a voiced bilabial consonant, a "B" sound. Yes, my university degree including several semesters of linguistics classes, which I'm now using to explain why being called a pathetic fucking bitch is such a good way of being put in my place. I needed to take a break to edge after writing that.

A voiced bilabial consonant means the sound is formed at the very front of the mouth with two lips rubbing against each other and coming apart. Kind of like when you spit on someone. Or kind of like what you hear when someone spits on you, I guess. The word has the most violent "attack" sound at the beginning of it. Compare it to words like "slut" (unvoiced alveolar initial consonant) or "whore" (unvoiced glottal initial consonant) and there's just no comparison.

By the way, "voiced" vs "unvoiced" refers to how the vocal chords are vibrating. You can feel this by wrapping one hand firmly around your throat and using the other to slap your face while you compare the voiced "b" in Bitch with the unvoiced "p" in Pathetic. I can't, of course, because remember I still have my panties stuffed in my mouth right now.

OK, so with "Bitch" dealt with, I need to talk about the elephant in the room, which is the word "cumdump". Now first of all, I haven't had any consensual sexual experiences that have involved being used in that way. But that being said, while I know it's super common on tumblr, "cumdump" really does nothing at all for me. You know what does? You know what word you can use for me that's so, so much more (squirming again) of a hit to my fried out brain?

"Cumtarget".

Again, it's the violence in the word. It's not a passive receptacle. There's no hierarchy, no danger, nothing about "cumdump" makes me prey. I know there's an ethos to a woman as a passive receiver but do you really want Sarah lying in bed like a dead fish? I want to be targeted. Hunted. Claimed. Overpowered. Defeated.

I'm drooling down my front.

In no particular order, here are a few other favorites.

Pathetic (that initial bilabial consonant, yes please)

Rapebait (p, b, targeting, violent)

Stupid (diminishing, disrespectful, "p" sound, obviously purposefully disrespectful since clearly I'm objectively not)

Dyke (complex)

Bimbo (bbbbbbbbbbb and see "stupid")

Backup Fuck (b, p, very explicitly hierarchical.)

Cunt

Weak

And some less violent:

Babygirl (heart emoji heart emoji heart emoji) (not ddlg)

Eye candy

[redacted because it's rooted in ableist language that I'm not comfortable using]

sorry I'm really wet right now this is too hard

And quickly, a few that just aren't that interesting

Slut (so overused it may as well just be "hello")

Whore (I literally was one)

Slave (you're divorced, wear a suit that's too tight, and love black and white gifs)

I hope that was insightful and that reading it improved your day. I'm going to put these panties back on and lick up the wet spot on the chair now.

xo

[sushispider1212]

Okay! I think I have a general idea of how Akira and Shigeru’s powers work in the Metaverse, and no, they do not have personas (yet 👀)

So basically Igor and the Velvet Room let the two have a tiny fraction of their godly powers, and that basically translates to the equal amount of power nerfed level 99 persona would have, the two are powerful as hell.

Shigeru and Akira’s powers are basically light and dark, as well as some other powers their God forms have, like Shigeru can use the 7 deadly sins as watered down status ailments/physical attacks, and Akira can use almighty attacks.

Shigeru actually likes making light constructs, if you remember me saying a while back that Shigeru could summon a bird construct, that’s basically it, they summon a light construct of a bird, and Shigeru sends it to help the pt’s sometimes when the two are at too far of a distance.

Akira can work with shadows, like darkness, not Shadows lol, his attacks are more brunt force and power house, while Shigeru’s are more accurate and more hits he gets in.

I’m really bouncing around here because It’s really hard to explain how their powers work for me, but just imagine persona 5 mechanics but they got nothin to summon.

And also, Shigeru 100% awakens to a persona when they go face to face with their godly counterpart in the final battle. Idk when Akira awakens to his…probably either in Shido’s palace or Maruki’s. But Shigeru awakens to theirs because they come to terms with what they did and admit to it, and they finally become “Shigeru Ochida” instead of “Yaldabaoth”

Akira’s is similar, he comes to terms with the fact that he’s his own person now, and is not just a part of Ren, but is Akira Amano instead, and learns to accept that.

Shigeru is also the navi for the duo, and he’s JUST like Akechi during 3rd semester, constantly making sarcastic remarks, insulting Akira whenever he gets knocked down or affected with an ailment (“Did you REALLY just get knocked out?! I KNOW you did not just leave this fight to me asshole! Did you even SEE that Shadow RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES?!”) Akira can get a bit emotional about this, but he refuses to cry about it.

also you’ve probably noticed by now, that i ship these two fucking losers around 75%, I’m a sucker for dumbasses who are forced to work together, and besides, they are forced to share a braincell the moment they go in a 5 mile radius of each other, what’s not to love? If you don’t like that, tell me and I’ll 100% stop talking about them that way 👌 (that sounded sarcastic/rude whenever i say it in my head😔)

Anyways, got any thoughts on this? I definitely know I was all over the place for this one lol

This is actively fueling by brain rot. I love this so much.

The opposing concepts thing, and! The ailments Shigeru can provide works well with his role as the navigator. I’m imagining some kind of sick ass finishing move involving those bird constructs.

Also,

You: *talking about your plans for the end game*

Me: *Looking nervously at the pile of notes for my end game. Shoves them a little bit further under the desk.*

And about the shipping. As of this point in time I am considering Shigeru to be the name shared by our Yaldabaoths. My Shigeru Ochida is a high schooler who really really Does Not Like hanging out with people and begrudgingly helps. Your Shigeru Ochida is the legal guardian who is forced to be in proximity with people and therefore acts different.

Our characters are different in my perspective. You can ship your guy, I will be not be shipping mine at this point in time.

I sure hope this is a cohesive answer my brain is currently a warm soup.

[hardtchill]

For me it’s very similar to the other anon. I’m turning 25 this year and I’ve still not got my bachelors degree because I had to quit my first go around at uni since i physically couldn’t learn for my exams. Granted it was compounded by other issues such as depression and anxiety but i genuinely believe that a not insignificant part of those issues come from the fact that adhd makes it near impossible to organise myself (unmedicated btw).

Seeing this on my feed rn is kind of ironic since even though im in my third year of a degree that I actually enjoy now, I literally dropped out of an exam that I was supposed to write today cuz I couldn’t revise. It’s not like I didn’t have the time and I’ve known for weeks about the deadline, but with every assignment or exam I push my own boundaries further and further back until I can’t do it anymore. Last semester I crammed 84 pages worth of notes in under 48h, an exam mind you that I’d pushed back over a year and was literally my last shot or I’d not be allowed to continue with my studies. I barely slept, I was throwing up, but I somehow passed, and with a good grade at that. Since then my brain is like, well you managed to do that that one time so you can totally afford to wait until the DAY before an exam to finish it. Or write a 15 page paper in a day.

And you know what, maybe I can. But the problem is the cost. It’s killing me. I find that it’s also very isolating cuz generally people don’t have a lot of empathy for this? So I end up pulling back from everyone including my best friends until I’m at a point again where I can be around people without letting on how incredibly bad I’m doing. Or I just straight up lie so they don’t know that I’ve not done the things i said I would do.

And all this is not just within the framework of academia. It’s also impacted my wellbeing in a more general sense - cooking for myself is hard because I tend to not listen to my body’s cues until I’m on the verge of passing out cuz i forgot to eat or drink, or by the time I’m hungry I still have to make a meal so I end up ordering something cuz it’s faster. Same with showering daily or brushing your teeth. Getting any routine started in general and sticking with it. I’ve been meaning to start exercising again but I keep delaying it for no reason. I’ve worked out regularly in the past so I know it’s something that I enjoy and that makes me feel good but despite that I’m still stuck in this place of inertia? It’s awful.

I’ve talked to some friends who also have adhd about it and the inability to start something cuz it isn’t instantly gratifying or that doesn’t align with an interest but is an obligation is quite common. Can I binge 7 seasons of a reality show in a week if it really interests me? Hell yeah! (I do watch everything at 2x speed cuz everyone talks too slow lmao but still). Will i fly through a massive book and literally forego sleeping if it means getting through more of it if im really invested? Absolutely. 1500 puzzle? Massive Lego set? Yep! Taking notes from a textbook for an assignment? Literally kill me right now.

I’m sorry for this long ass message and idek if you’re gonna read all of this but yeah just wanted to share my experience. Adhd is absolutely not quirky or a superpower and I wish there was a better understanding of it out there because it makes me my own worst enemy every day.

Ugh anon i feel you so much. I have skipped on many an exam during my bachelors because i just couldn't concentrate, focus or start revision. It's completely miserable to literally see the time go by where you feel the stress but you just cannot get your brain to start on what you need to do.

Any time i told teachers and now colleagues that i work well with deadlines i get told i'm not motivated enough because if i was i wouldn't need deadlines. That's just so unfair! My brain is graving dopamine, it's not laziness that my brain does this, it's literally just ADHD.

This is the same reason why your brain (usually) jumps into action when that crippling anxiety hits, because you're so close to a deadline that your brain can smell the dopamine.

The only reason that i finished my 6 month thesis is because i had many mini deadlines during those 6 months. I felt the anxiety to finish a part of it every month and i had a teacher who was very nice and gave you compliments when you did (DOPAMINE). If i didn't have that i would still be writing my thesis now.

ADHD is so misunderstood by so many people. It affects every part of your life and the negative consequences are so much bigger and impactful than the potential positive outcomes. I mean yeah i'm creative and can think fast, awesome but that doesn't make up for the anxiety, stress and grief you go through anytime your brain just doesn't want to start something.

[anadorablekiwi]

Okay so i have some questions about knee pain for the people who know more medical things than me

First off: the original source. So years ago my first semester of college, i had tried to fix up my old kid bike. Got it to the college, bike chain snapped trying to ride it across the sloped street and the bike hit my left knee hard. Hurt a lot but wasn’t broken, so we just called it sprained and moved on.

(I’m aware this next part was probably stupid but we didn’t have much choice) I then proceeded to walk/limp with a cane on said injured knee because like I said starting college and didn’t have a choice really. Got some knee braces and moved on.

Eventually it stopped hurting, and now after i get significant exercise (walking a lot especially on slopes, hiking, etc) there’s a good chance one or both knees will be sore (my right knee was used too often subconsciously so now both give me pain issues)

Apparently this isn’t normal? We’re going to get me a prescription refill from an urgent care tomorrow (past prescriber was school health center but I dropped out, next available appointment to get established with my pcp is august, health center closed for the summer before i could get a prescription til then) and my mom suggested mentioning my knee pain since ive been having problems since Tuesday when we went to SF and walked all over the place

I’m not sure if i have the energy for more chaos/things to do and appointments to make, but considering i’m getting a job where I’ll be on my feet a lot that might actually be a good idea?

Honestly i dont even know what I’m asking at this point. I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, overstimulated from this past week of almost constant Things To Do and Places To Go, and ive got strong persistent anxiety right now and i dont know what triggered it.

So I’m not doing well to say the least. My brain is Mush, and I probably still have extra brain fog from having finally recovered from covid a couple weeks ago (still been having mild symptoms on and off). Its also really late so my brain isn’t to be trusted anyways

I guess what I’m asking for is general advice? I know @/gemglyph was advising i seek out an orthopedic who specializes in knees, but I definitely am not up to the phone calls or appointment(s) that would entail quite yet.

Would an urgent care doctor be able to help? Or should i just wear my compression knee braces and deal and try to get some rest (more shit to do tomorrow ;-;)? I dont know what to do

[justanothertwstau]

#justanothertwstAU Lore Breakdown Pt 1. ???

Exactly what we, (and by we I mean me), have all been waiting for!!

So, this might have to be broken down into two parts just because I got a bit carried away when I was writing this. My main goal is just to get this out of my brain and out to the twst fandom, because if I don’t my brain might actually start melting from the amount of space it’s taken up. 

Before I get super into it, I just want to clarify some key things about this AU.

Key Facts: 

- The lore kind of bounces to way before the canon timeline and kind of touches on some history of Night Raven, to the year right before the canon timeline. The canon timeline is centers around Yuu’s arrival and all that, just to clarify.

- The girls’ story specifically takes place in the second semester of Yuu’s first year at Night Raven College, So everyone including the third-years will still be at the school.

- The whole premise of this AU is based on the idea that Night Raven college makes the move to accept both male and female students, after public unrest towards the “boys only” rule of the school is called into question.

To Begin...

A decision resulting from numerous gender discrimination claims against the school that had been growing in frequency over the past few years. (Largely ignored by Crowley, partly because he was too “busy” to address it properly, but mostly because of school policy) 

Dissatisfaction about the boys-only school rule is nothing new, but it was never something that the school was held accountable for, as it was excused by tradition and prestige. 

Any conversations about the exclusion were mostly murmurs, whispers, nothing more than that or serious enough to cause any real change. For years, it was just a topic that was brought up and brushed off since it didn’t seem possible. 

But then one day, a handful of years before the first-year gang arrives at Night Raven, a letter arrives addressed to Crowley. It’s from a young girl who is in the age bracket of adolescents to be accepted as a new generation of Night Raven College students, and in the letter she asks for a proper reason why girls can’t attend.

(This still feels super cheesy, so I might refine this when I have more time, but I think it gets the point across)

 “If magical skill and tenacity is all that is needed to excel as a prestigious wizard, what use is one’s identity? How does my gender hold back my capability from becoming a magic user when I was born with the same gift as my male counterparts? Magic reflects the spirit and strength of the user and is only limited by the creativity of the host. It is a fact drilled into young wizards everywhere, an irrevocable, piercing fact, and if that is true without a doubt then for what reason should I be prevented from learning at your school? I know my magic and I know myself, and I know that if I could attend this school I would make it proud with all that I would accomplish. I have practiced my magic endlessly every day for three years and even though I had a late start in comparison to most I now rank head and shoulders over the top magicians of my school. Half of those top magicians happen to be young girls just like myself, all talented and promising in our skill, weighed down by the unspoken and mutual understanding that we will never be able to pursue an education at Night Raven College. I realize that this may seem foolish and impossible, and there’s a good chance this letter never even made it to your desk, but if it has then I implore you, with everything I have, to at least consider the questions that I’ve asked you. I don’t expect this letter to change your mind, but if I let this year pass without speaking up about what I consider a grievous oversight I fear that you may never hear us.”

This was not the first time Crowley heard concern about the school’s ‘boys only’ policy, or the first letter, however this one was so earnest in its questioning that it did make him pause. He does not respond to this letter, and years pass after reading it but during this time it still sticks with him, and resurfaces whenever the exclusion of the school is called into question.

Change doesn’t start until nearly a decade later...

(The next two passages kind of need to be with each other so keep an eye out for part 2!!!)

[mellow-worlds]

older

Things I don't really know how to get better. I don't think I'll ever be able to get over my will to completely give myself up for him yesterday he told me to do some things and I did them, yesterday he criticosed my behaviour and I apologized and he said I shouldn't have and then he apologized for criticising me but I mean he was right to do it. And I feel terrible becau eI asked hin ti go to my place instead of his because I'm on my period and hurting and uncomfortable and he agreed and I feel like a selfish idiot because now he has to ride around in the subway A LOT and it's alll because of me, and he complained a little about it and I said I'm sorry and I told him gain and again I'm sorry and he doesn't even know why I wanted t o go to my place. I feel terrible. At least I didn't eat today. Everthing feels terrible. Prolly just because I'm on my period. I feel terrible terrible terrible. I feel bad. Just physically uncomforta

ble. I feel terible because even when I try to apologize for me acting wrong I can't do it right and he won't take my apology. I'm so sorry I get so emotional and it's probably because of my period. Yesterday I felt like crying and got butterflies several times. Sometimes just by lookuing at him and thinking I'd do everything for him. Anyway. As I was saying, 'd never not let him kill me, I'd never not give myself up for him if only he asked me to, probably. I'll never not put him ifrsst. But that doesn#t mean that I have to hate myself. That doesn't mean that I need to be miserable. I want to do things and I want to do things and I want to d o things. I've beeen doing some things. I've been reading and drwing and studying French a lot It's nice. I want to write more. I don't think I'm ok with uni having started. I don't really like uni. I like learning and I like the toics when theyÄre interesting, butttt idk. I hate having to go here, it's a hustle. I hate having to read and write long complicated texts I don't understand because they're too complicated for my little, uncomplicated brain. I don't like the rain and I don't like that I don't know how to dress on accord of the weather. I don't like that it'll be torture to go here when it's hot I don't like that I selected so ayn courses and that I will be overwhelmed. But rn it's ok. I'mean not rn but in general. I'm not overwhelmed yet. Not yet. It's fine and I don#t haave to do this alone. L s there to support me. Another thing: I hate that L and I won't be able to spend as much time together. Maybe it's a good thing but even this morning just getting out of bed felt terrible because I wanted to keep cuddling with him because he is just the cutest. But overall I'm excited about the new semester. I'm excited about all of the things I do (French and art and reading and writing) and I'm excited about eseing myself develop and change.

I'm kind of obsessed with this girl I used to go to school with. She sometimes posts stuff on g and I relentlessly look at it when she does. She's anorexic and man she's gotten really really thin again. I'm a little scared for her. And I'm really jealous of her. She's really pretty and really thin and everybody knows she's troubled. She has posted about her (various methinks) stays at the mental hospital. She's been hospitalized. She's been hhospitalized. All I got to show for is my three little scars and the ones you can't even see. I'm not skinny. I'm not pretty. I still phantasize about killing myself a lot. In the book I'm reading a character did that becauase his lover didn't want to get married. He cried for days and then he was found dead with slit wrists. I can't even cry. I can't even cry. I can't wait for the day I break down in front of L crying. If I've cried this year it was only small little tears. And that one time in JHJanary. And no one ever noticed. And I feel a burning need to cry. It's crazy. My clothes are wet because of my stupid jacket from the 80's. I feel ohysically terrible. My head has started hurting. And I'm hungry. I want to lose a lot of weight. L says he likes my body but I don't. I don't. So I'm doing intermittent fasting an dI'll try to eat healthier. I'm a little scared. I havent eaten today. It's been 18 hrs almost. Nothing in comparison to what I could do. Idk when I'll eat. Maybe after this nect lecture. I'm mad I look so ugly today. I'll lose weight and that'll automatically make me look better. ANd I'll be fine. I'll be happy. There's no need for me to make such a big fohking thing out of this. I'm not eded- I'm not anorexic and I used to be and I'm ashamed I'm not anymore. I need to lose weight. I hate my freaking body I hate looking like this I hate my cellulite and fat and how unfit I am. I exercised a little yesterday, the tiniest bit. Because my back hurt. I should try to exercise every day, maybe. I still want to die. I want to be found dead one day. But maybe first I need to work on my legacy. I want to be mourned. Do I`Idc. I want to be remembered like remedios in cien an*os de soledad. And mostly just want to feel loved by L. I don't think he thinks about me as much as I do and I don't think he knows that he's practically my world. Adn I want to do art and experience art and watch movies and read and write.

I feel like I'm going to faint but it's not as bad anymore. I haven't eaten in almost 39 hours. I'm trying to push for 49. But most of all I'd just like to faint. I've never fainted before and yes it's scary but it would be something. It'd be something graspable, something real, not just a feeling. I want my suffering to be real. On that note, I should stop being self-condescending towards myself in front of L. I shouldn't make my suffering a show that I choose to share, if anything, people should get subtle signs because of my physical ill-being, but nothing more. Honestly, people shouldn't get any signs, but like... I want to be "heard". I know how toxic this is. I feel like I'm not ill enough and I feel like I can't get betteer until people notice how ill I am because I can't let people know retrospectively, and I've suffered for so long... I should try nto to. But I want to get worse and I want to spiral. I want to faint in front of my friends. Luckily and tragically, I made it so I won't see any of them today. I skipped two classes. Maybe I'll skip the third one as well, but I shouldn't. I feel like I really really shouldn't skip. So I won't skip the third one. It's so weird to describe how I feel. A little light headed, my bones ache, slight headache, very very heavy limbs, and I just generally feel unwell and sick. I've been tempted to eat something but like... I can't just do that. I want to faint. I want to faint in front of my friends. I want to faint in front of L. That would be the dream. I bet fainting feels nice.

I haven't eaten in 30 hours now and I probably won't be eating in another 5 hours. If I'm lucky I won't eat today at all but I don't know. Honestly I'm a little scared, because I will be going to Ls and I don't know if we'll eat something and idk if I'll be able to log the calories. GOSH I hope that if we eat I'll be able to log them. And it's so unfair, the food at uni doesn't provide a calo

ric value and I hate that. I WISH they'd provide that. Im really happy about the decision to lgo calories again, so my weightloss will be more efficient. I really had no idea milk has that many calories. But this des´cision, as you can see, also causes me a lot of stress but it's fine, it'll be worth it. It'll be worth it. My stomach hurts. It's growly. It feels good? But my head hurts and I feel a little unwell. It's nice talking to my friends thouhg, we currently are sittig in the uni cafe. I like D and K a lot and Y is here as well. GOSH I hope I won't have to eat today. Aaand they all left. I have 50 minutes to kill now. F and the other guy from the cafe are here. I don't even know what I can write anymore. And I'm bored to death. This is something i've realized in my past ana runs, it is terrible, the boredom you feel, the inability to focus on things, it gets so overwhelming, your thoughts of food, it's all you think about and then you can't help but eat. BUT I feel good now. Rn I'm a little bored, sure, but like I feel good. I do tihnk about food a lot, but more in fear and less in desire. Well I really would like to eat, but uhm idk, it's different. It's not hard for me not to eat for such long times. Before, I struggled with my life to get to 48 hours, and it was super hard to get to 24 hours, and at times even 18. I feel fairly good. I'm able to have a really good time with my friends and I enjoy that a lot. this morning I took body check pictures and I really really resent that I deleted my old body check pictures. And honestly I look awful but I THINK i look a little less awful than wen I took those other pictures but I can't know. It's frustrating. And I really, really, hate the way my body looks. I REALLY REALLY hate it. I can't believe L would even consider saying he likes my body because Im´'m so ugly. He's got a nice body, I think, not terribly skinny or lean, but I really like his body, it's comforting. And I wonder if it is because the first time I saw his upper body I was so glad he's not as skinny as I tohuhgt, because it made me feel the slightest bit better. So yeah I really hate my body and I don't think L is lying to me, but I also think that he's telling me he likes my body so much so that I#ll feel a little better. plus it's a really nice feeling being desired. So yeah, if I lose some weight maybe hell like my body more, and I definitely will. Its o frustrating, I have lost some kgs already but Iit's just waterweight. In a way, I'm really scared of eating more regularly. I tihnk it's easier not to eat when I do it over long periods of time, like it's out of the question alrea

dy, but it's harder to do when I can eat a little. Stopping to eat is always the hardest part, I think. I just need to get more scared of food. That's why i think thatt couting calories is such a good thing. It'll make me super aware of what I#m putting into my body. that's a good thing in so many ways. Anyway. AAAH. Body checks. I hate the fact that I look this way but I'm also optimistic that I'll be able to change. I'm optimistic that I'll son look very different. Soon enough. THis months choices are next months body soooo... I'm doing well ig. It's scary trhough. I don't want to fail. But I'm making an effort to eat healthier, low calorie things like fruits and veggies and stuff. I'm happy about that. It's a little concerning that I have bruises on my legs. Apparently, they come from lack of vitamin c and k, but like... I've had them for over a week now I think. It's concerining. I've had them since before I started fasting for so long. I should take care of that, becaue I really don't want any health issues. I should make sure I have supplements etc. It's really scary. Also, osteoporosis... My risk of getting that was real even when I was eating relatively well. I'm terrified of the medical concerns of anorexia. But like I#m terrified of my body and I just don't want to stay that well. I HATE MY BODY. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should find a way to find peace with it, though I still would want to change it. I dont need to be so extreme. I don't need to be so extreme. I can chilkll. It's ok. I don't need to hate my body. LAtely 've been wearing some clothes that make mee feel more confident. I still think I look fat, but I feel pretty ok about it, mst of the time. I'm really scared about L finding out. I think he's catching up to the fact that I don't like my body and that I sometimes don't eat because of it. He's asked me what I've eaten certain days maybe twice by now, and I've had to lie because the truth was that I didn't eat anything. He just believed me, though. In a way, I feel nice when he says that I don't consume enough calories and that's why I feel so cold. I feel nice and I feel noticed. But i don#t want him to find out more, and like if i want to lose a lot of weigt he will eventually notice, no? If I eat little enough hell have to, right? If I manage not to fail and not be a fatass again. But i feel pretty optimistic. I feel good about this time. Who knwos, though. I'll try my best thoug. Now that i believe in free will, I CAN'T fail, I just can't. How could it be that all of these other girls are so skinny and so deprived of nourishment, and I'm so fat and I'm already scared of failing. So tonight ill go to a concert and I'm happy about the opportunity to burn some extra calories and not really be able to eat for a little while. But I'm really low energy, I'm really tired and It's cold so I don't feel like moving. And I am a little scared about feeling weak and passing out, but like, I don'

t think I will because... Yeah I haven't eaten that little last time and I haven't not eaten in all that long. It's unrealistic that I'll faint. Even if I do it's what I wanted, no? It'd be weird in front of my school friensd but ultimately, good. It'd be good. And it'd be awful if I fainted in front of L, honestly, because hten he'd really know something i swrong with me and food and he'd try to stop me and I really really can't eat normally or even more again becauseeeeeeee iiiimmmm sooooooo fattttttttt. Normal people probably would call me chubby at best but like.... IDK I feel AWFUL about my body and no, I am fat. I feel a little lightheaded. Anyway. I'm glad I'm doing things today. I'm glad I'll be going to Ls later because it wouldn't be abig deal if I ate today, and because I just really love spending time with him. And idk. I could stand the warmth of his body. And yeah. I love him :). And I'm just happy I don't have to be alone at home where I'm almost always miserable. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I love spending time with friends. It#s a nice feeling when my stomach growls. its nice. i am kinda hungry but it doesnt hurt.. only my head hurts a little. and my being basically alone here, but its fine, ill leve in 10 minutes. wow, how time flies when one is having fun obsessing over ones ed. i am eded, theres no denying that. i may not be anorexic but its fine. i wonder what caused my relapse. is it really hatred for my body? i mean yes, ive always hated my body... i wanted to say that i didn't want to get back to ana like maybe a month ago, but that's not true is it. ive been loggin my fasting time for a couple of months and ive always hated my body. it really is mmy body, huh. but what about now is different? what casuses me to be so optimistic and what makes it so easy for me to fast for so long? maybe i overall feel better, but usually, one relapses into these kinds of things whne feeling bad, right? Anyway. Ig i am hungry rn. butttt its fine. its not overwhelming. I don#t want to hate myself, but i want to be impossibly skinny. I hsoudl work on what I see as a failure. it's not a failure if I don't fast for at least 24 hours or if I eat today or if I eat when in Ls company, or when I don#t lose a kg per day or even gain a little because i won't be able to keep this pace up. It is maybe a failure if I eat unhealthy things and am over my calorie limit. so im good. i have no reason to currently feel bad. im doing good. my stomach is hurting a little, but its fine. it is satisfactory somehow, to have these subtle, not really hurtful signs of whatever im doing actually having an effect on me, actually doing something. what currently frustrates me is that i can#t really eat whatever anymore. I'm so terrified of not being able to log my calories and i just started yesterday hahahhahaha. but yeah. its frustrating not being able to eat things from uni etc that i don't know the caloric value of. Anyway, gotta go, bye.

yesterday was really, really nice. Except that he forced me to eat but whatever. well we were in the kitchen and he already choked me and it felt so good. he kept choking me. he kept talking to me and commanding me to do things. I wouldve done anything. it was so nice. he told me to eat and i tried eating as little as possible but yk its fine, its whatever. he was so aggressive and commanding with me and i love it when he is. i can't describe it. it felt a little different from previous times, though. I was really submmissive hahaha etc ykyk but i was able to snatch out of it fairly quickly and shit and i didn't really feel as bad. I did get a lot of butterflies though. We were in the cinema before and watched civil war and i cried a lot. I felt to many emotions. we were cuddling in the cinema and the things going on onscreen were wild and there was too many emotions. so i cired. he didn't notice. after the movie we cuddled some more and he got pretty happy, saying how lucky he was and how much he loved me. and i didn't say much because id just been cring and on the ride home i didn't say much either and i#d like to believe thats why he was able to be so violent towards me. he wasnt really violent. i wish hed been more violent. in uni we talked a little about sex and stuff so maybe thats part of the reason as well. i think hed like it if i was more dominant but i dont really see how i could be. makes me feel bad. i just want to be his pet and his housewife and i just want him to be happy. i want to please him with everything i do and i want to do everything for him. i want to be his completely, and i don#t want him to be mine. i want him to toss me on the ground and choke me and step on me and make me pass out, i want him to keep food from me and then force feed me right before i die of staration, just to keep me alive so i can be starved furter. yay ed fantasies mixed in with sexual ones. yay. yesterday it did feel kinda nice how he forcefed me but like i really didn't need to eat then. id been fasting for barely 27 hours and i couldve gone so muhc longer. but ig this way i can track his c*m. gosh I do really like it when we don't have sex and he just uses me. it feels so nice and i have to worry about notihng but his cock. well actually, if he was really violent towards me during sex it would probably be the best thing ever. he choked me once during sex, i wish he did it always. he slapped me a lot yesterday and it felt awful which means it felt awfully good. i keep remembering times when he was awful to me and they give me butterflies. its all i want its all i want. i want him to hit me more and tell me that i dont deserve him, but next time he should mean it, he should throw me on the ground and tell me im trash.it feels different from usually, though. do i still think ikm worthless? kinda, i think. bu tit doesn#t inhabit my entire mind, its not all i can think about. i can kinda snap in and out of it, rihgt? either way. my theor stands. I should be able to do everything for him and still not make mself dependable from him. I still need to be my own person and not define myself throught the things I do for him, but take them as an addition to my inner world, as just something I chose, something I want to to because I have wants and needs and opinions. so ig i'm heading in a right direction. I enjoy it when he abuses me and part of the reason why is that i enjoy making him happy.

Things have been going so well. I’m actually really happy. I ate a lot a lot this weekend but like… Idc. I’m really happy, probably also partially because of increased food intake. But I’ve started a little writing project and I’m super excited about it. And things with L have been going super well as well. I feel like I am getting better, I really think I am. I am excited about the future again and I’m excited about food and my friends and L and writing and music and drawing. I’m really happy!

Except rn I’m really hungry but I’ll go grab sth to eat after this lecture, I havent eaten in about 17 hours, a little more.

Ok my hunger is really making me feel impatient and bored. But it’s fine! I guess this is what being hangry feels like. I’m still concerned with calories. I’m a little scared because idk if I’ll be able to count calories properly again today, since i’ve had to guess yesterday a lot. but it’s fine. I’m happy about eating healthy food with L whihc is something we set out to do. AND I’m really happy I haven’t eaten any sugar in the past week. Well, sugar yes, but not like refined sugar.

Gosh I’m so impatient. I got 17 more minutes to go. I’m so excited about the food I’m about to eat! And I’m so excited about my writing project, because it’s not just about writing. And because it’s just so much fun! It takes a lot pressure away from me, it’s a really relaxed project.

[theswearyscholar]

One of the things I’ve really enjoyed about my Twitter community (I know, #waitwhut) has been the development of the #AcademicSelfie. I encountered this movement through the international law and legal studies community. It was initially championed by Prof Douglas Guilfoyle and has been taken up by quite a few of us in the ANZSIL community. It’s delightful because one of the unspoken rules of academia is that you must simultaneously care very deeply, and also not care at all about how you’re dressed: be professional, but not superficial! Your brain is the important thing, not how you present yourself. But also, don’t look like a slob. And women? Be “professional” but don’t be pretty! Wear a suit, but not a pants suit (too masc), and not a dress or a skirt that is too clingy, form fitting, or flowy. We all know the “I don’t care” lewk is a signifier of how clever (white) men are, because they focus on their Very Important Thoughts rather than frivolous (feminine) things like fashion. The Academic Selfie hashtag confronts this discourse: is populated by scholars across the genders and is generally focused on style over fashion. It’s also a great space to explore vulnerability, such as those days where you’re feeling like an academic fraud, and therefore put on the costume of the academic. Or the days when your emotional and psychological resilience needs replenishing and you are living in the same tracksuit for the third day running, or in an animal onesie. The Academic Selfie has offered a place for people who are expected to inhabit only their minds to also inhabit their bodies. It enables scholars who are often focussed on Very Serious Thinking about relationships between States, corporations, and individuals, with issues of human rights, of justice, of politics, politicking and Realpolitik to explore and show their creativity. It’s not merely populated by sports jackets in tweed, but by Corporate Goths, by Homecounties Drag, by Candy Kids and some of the most beautifully tattooed middle-aged Punks I have ever seen. We even have an International Law Barbie, and she is ICONIC.

So the #AcademicSelfie is a place where I can touch in with my peers and my students. I can share my good days, and my bad. I can share the days when I am nailing because I am a GODDAMN GENUIS and gorgeous to boot, and the days where I am amazed that the academy has not yet figured out that I don’t belong there and I am faking it and also aren’t we due for a Cave Hag Winter right about now? I will genuinely miss that point of connection when the Twitterverse finally implodes/ eats its own tail all the way down/ when Twagnorok finally arrives #Twitterdämmerung.

The other thing that the #AcademicSelfie helped me to realise is related to my AuDHD (I was diagnosed last year at the age of 40. I went through THREE goddamn bachelor degrees and a PHD undiagnosed. I am SALTY AF. This is another story. However it also explains the regular asides because #ADHDTangents). So lockdowns revealed to a lot of folk with ADHD that they needed to put together new strategies to enable them to work remotely because just sitting down in front of the computer DOES NOT WORK FOR US. So maybe it’s timekeeping, maybe it’s drinking mint tea, maybe it’s putting on shoes but you need to do something to make your body feel like it has to work when it is not in its Work Space.

Now, I want you to bear in mind two things:

1. I wasn’t diagnosed until 2022.

2. My industry (academia) is unstable on a good day: we move between offices (usually shared) and classrooms. We often teach classes in the evening (so people who are working can study), we sometimes work on campus, we sometimes work from home. Many of us are precariously employed: in Australia we might be on six or 12 month fixed term contracts (if we are lucky), or casual contracts by semester (these mean the universities don’t have to pay us over the Summer break which is usually from late October to early March. I shit you not. That is the LONG SUMMER OF CENTRELINK and no one, NO ONE, want that). In the US this sort of teaching is described as adjunct teaching. I also want to stress that in Australia (where our union is running a campaign regarding wage theft by the Universities) we are significantly better paid as casuals than are the UK or US members of the academic precariat. Not enough to make it long term viable to work this way (she says after she’s worked this way for 10 years), not well enough to call it “financial security”, but well enough that (if I teach the equivalent of 2 full time teaching loads at 2 institutions during the academic year) I can mostly make it through Oct-Mar with my rent pre-paid and my Christmas shopping done in the October sales. Then I just spend that time working admin/retail/teaching if I can get it/doing research/trying to write/searching for jobs/failing to write/having ZombiePlagueFlu/having AuDHD burnout and depression.

Anyway, my point is that I have always struggled to focus when working from home (which I often do). There is washing/vacuuming/napping to do. The Academic Selfie helped me to realise that what I needed when I wanted to work wasn’t shoes, a playlist, or mint tea: it was make up.

Every morning as part of my routine I put on makeup.

This is often something that women in the academy are low key shamed for: it is conformist, it is a tool of patriarchy, it’s superficial. I’ve read the arguments against makeup. I see it, I understand them. Also, I’m femme, this is a political position that is

I don’t fucken care. Makeup helps me to focus.

I shower I get out and dry my face, I put on whatever serum I’m using at the moment. My skin care and makeup routine is not a habit for me, because my ADHD means I don’t form habits (I form Compulsions, and boy-howdy do I form them well). My skin care and makeup routine is, however, meditative and creative. My choice of textures and colours are premised on my outfit, on my skin’s needs at that point, on what character I want to present to the world.

Am I a Very Serious Grown Up?

Am I Professional Business Lady?

Am I Scatterbrained Professor?

Am I Manic Pixie Nightmare Broad?

Am I Soft Femme Romantique?

Am I Middle-Aged Mall Goth?

Am I Miscellaneous Pill You Found On The Floor At Revolver?

Each of these requires different bases, eyeshadow colours and styles, eyeliner colours, textures and applications, and LIPSTICKS.

Honestly, I can and have turned up to teach a class in every single one of these aesthetics.

Even when I’m teaching from home, or working from home, or reading from home, if I put on my slap in the morning I will guaranteed be more focussed throughout the rest of the day.

This leads me to the thing that made me want to write this morning:

I’m sharing the knowledge. I have a lot of makeup. I will never show my mother the extent of my makeup collection, but it’s one of my hyperfocuses, I love experimenting and I am perpetually on the search for the perfect red lipstick. (Things I would tell my daughter if I had one (I don’t): spend money on a good red lipstick. There are days where it will make you feel powerful. Line your lips, put the lippie on your top lip, do the mumumum lip smoosh. Apply eyeshadow or flush or something. Blot. Apply a light dust of powder to your lip. Apply the lipstick again. Mumumumumum. Blot. Go forth and battle evil.)

So here are my faves.

Primer:

L’Oréal Paris Prime Lab: I fucken miss the Garnier 5 second blur primer, but in Australia this has been my next fave.

ELF Poreless Putty Primer: This shit is hardcore, but well priced, smooth AF and holds all day. Bless KMart.

Foundation:

I miss The Original’s foundation which was perfect, because I’m not into a heavy coating. Usually I go with a tinted CC cream. But I recently picked up two products from W7 that are amazing. The one for heavy coverage is the W7 Ultimate Cover Up and that sadly seems to be discontinued so that sucks. The other one is:

W7 Genius Foundation: for a pasty bitch like moi, this is a light, soft, serum like cover with a matte finish. It’s perfect for every day and cheap AF.

When it comes to blush, shimmer, eyeshadow, I honestly just play around.

Mascara:

Generally I try to keep my makeup budget friendly (except for perfume, that’s a whole different ballgame), but I make an exception for mascara

Fenty Frontal Volume: Holy shit this mascara is flawless.

Lips:

Make-Up Studio Matte Silk-Effect Duo: I got this as a sample in the Velvet Mauve and I will repurchase. Long lasting, great colour, doesn’t dry out.

Fenty Stunna Lip Paint: I still haven’t forgiven Fenty for discontinuing my fave every day lipstick, but this red is currently the greatest of the red lipsticks available IMHO.

In terms of general makeup brands my fave (Kiko Milano) isn’t available in Australia, so I have to stock up when I’m in the UK. Their eyeshadows and shimmers are amazing and I love every lipstick of theirs that I own.

In terms of perfumes I’m a fucking monster. I love them. I spend FAR too much money on them. However, if you want a long lasting scent that is going to be sexy, elegant and professional, but also not everywhere and not going to bankrupt you, you can’t go wrong with checking out Fragonard. I get mine through Libertine because they send out samples with purchase that are basically a show bag for adults who love perfume. I am currently wearing their pomegranate one which is sweet but tart, and gorgeous for winter. I also love their violet perfume because I’m not super into florals that are rose-based and violets have a delicious, vintage edge to them. This perfume also has a bit of a citrus and berry sharpness to cut through the floral-powdery nose feeling. (How good is that autism, eh?)

Honestly, now that I’ve finished with this information, the urgency is gone and I’m like how the fuck did I get from Twitter to lipstick? Fuck it. I haven’t written this much in ages, so I’ll take it. I’m going to make lunch.

Do with this information what you will.

[theicyfresh]

Time is going at a reasonable pace.

Time is moving at a speed that is within your grasp. Developments seem cluttered, but that is because brains are not trained to retain the space in between. Think back to ten years ago. Ten, whole, years. That was about 8 people ago? Maybe more? I’d have been two years off from starting college.

The entirety of college and half of high school was ahead of me ten years ago. Not to mention the entirety of my ‘career’. Ten years ago I lived in a rented out house at the cross section of a culdesac with streetlamps outside. I had a massive set of shelves on one wall, a drawer in the closet, and more books than you could shake a torch at.

Even if you just measure it by that, lets say I’ve lived in one place before college, a new place for every year of college, one more for the semester I went above 4 years. Here. Hell, I’ve lived in 11 places in the last ten years.

Time is moving at a reasonable pace.

You have always spent such time grasping and grabbing at a break, at some space, to get back and recharge and breathe and replenish and feel better.

But the thing is, you can. Even if you stop scrambling towards it. 

At the moment, precarious or not, it feels like you’ve made a life you can float with. You can breathe, and unwind, and feel good, without needing to kick out and swim and strive for safety. You just need to look around when all is quiet, to take those moments as they come and acknowledge them. Hell, maybe you’re even getting bored of them.

Time is moving at a reasonable pace.

Gods, almost 27. Imagine what the next ten years could even hold. I’ll be almost 40 then. By very very conservative estimates if the world doesn’t explode or freeze or fall to AI or get taken over by. .. Well., if all goes well. I could be barely halfway through right now. And I don’t even remember half of what’s happened so far. And that’s the thing. I’m now,,, implanted, in my career. I’m a working guy. I’ve had a massive amount of privilege to be working this amount. To not need to do various ambient work needed to keep living. I’m very lucky. Incredibly privileged. But the point is, regardless of that. Moments in which you simply look around and exist will come. Moments in which you can relax and do nothing and nothing bad happens because of it will come. You’ve been fighting for so long to keep that, absolutely fucking certain that growing up and becoming an adult will mean every last second of the day will get whittled away until you’re like your parents.

But that’s the thing. They just work exceptionally hard. You can, as well, but it’s not necessary. Unfortunately it is entirely likely the generations will get shorter and shorter and smaller and smaller and people are simply going to die. Living for the future isn’t exactly an option, you need to fight for now and you need to live with love right now. You need to be happy now, and you have been.

Time is moving at a reasonable pace.

Relaxation will come. You don’t need to stress about it. Everything is going to be alright.

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[thegingeralien]

Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

[cheelduh]

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1  2  3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.