#anyway. getting very finicky about it

[skrunksthatwunk]

was thinking about the byronic hero as an archetype i love and remembered for the first time in months that article i found that called kiryu one. it was like getting flashbanged with a cautionary tale

[sodacowboy]

oh man today has not been a good day lmao

[pellucid-constellations]

Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

~~

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 

He had learned that early on. 

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 

But you were also his mate. 

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 

“Azriel—” 

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 

“You were talking with Rhys?” 

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 

But then Rhys decided you were needed. 

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 

“Reconsider.” 

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 

“Send Majda.” 

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 

“Rhysand.” 

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…” 

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 

“No,” he replied, quick and low. 

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 

Why couldn’t he come, again? 

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 

“Here to see us off, Az?” 

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 

So, you went to Windhaven. 

And then you came home hurt. 

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 

Azriel thought he heard you scream. 

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 

“She’s your mate?” 

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 

He was a fool. 

“Azriel?” 

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 

It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow. 

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 

“Only when I dream.” 

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

[centrally-unplanned]

Academic History YouTuber Premodernist released video recently on "State Flag" discourse, and flag discourse more wildly, that I thought was pretty good! I agreed with 50% of it. For those who don't know, there is a longstanding movement in the vexillology community to push for more simplified flag designs, and they hate the state flags of the US as their antithesis; a movement that catapulted into the internet mainstream when YouTuber CGPGrey released a video riffing on that debate and grading all the state flag designs.

That video is great by the way (it's hilarious, CGP Grey is just very talented as a performer), and the biggest thing Premodernist is wrong about is that the state flags do suck. But what he gets right is that the so-called "principles" briefly referred to in the video are themselves pretty weak; some are fine but others do not hold up to much scrutiny. The state flags largely suck for the boring reason that they just suck; they are shitty designs and often repeat each other in a domain where "standing out" is the point. Like what the fuck Montana:

This is something a 5th grader whips up in PowerPoint for a class presentation. Helvetica Bold?? "Mandated by law in 1985" yeah I didn't need Wikipedia tell me this decision dates to the 80's.

But that is boring and subjective, right? You can't just say they suck. So you had to make a theory about it - and I won't go into too much detail but it generally boils down to:

Make it simple, "something a child could draw"

Make it "distinct at a distance", since it is a flag you are supposed to see it at a distance

Three colors or fewer

No words on flags

Which I think you can get the philosophy for. These principles, which CGP Grey outlines, actually come from the work of Ted Kaye, who is a big figure in the aforementioned flag reform movement and the focus of most of the video. As part of the original CGP Grey video I just rolled with that, but I did remember him showing Utah's newly designed flag at the end which embodied these principles, and uh:

This is kind of mid? Like it doesn't suck, but it looks like a corporate redesign of a hockey team logo or something. A bit of a red flag (hah) if your front-and-center case is weak.

Anyway this is what Premodernist digs into in the video. The stuff I agreed with the most are the parts where he just ???? at some of these rules. "No finicky bits", a "child must draw it", "distinct at a distance"? None of these actually track for say this one:

A child drawing the US flag does not draw 50 stars and 13 stripes unless they are a budding librarian; you absolutely cannot tell if this flag has 50 stars on it from a distance, and that level of detail is clearly some kind of finicky. Of course your response is "okay sure but still, I can tell what the flag is from a distance, I can't count the 50 stars but I get the gist". But that is true for almost all flags!

It's a fern and a peace pipe and a brown thing and the word "Oklahoma" below it, you absolutely, 100%, will be able to tell what this flag is at a distance. You don't need to count the leaves to get the general shape, and when you think about it, it is actually kind of silly anyone would claim otherwise. There just isn't any need to appreciate the tiny details on a flag to understand whose flag it is. (the only valid critique here is that everything should be bigger - too much dead space)

Not to mention the "see from a distance" thing even being a metric. That isn't how you encounter flags most often today? Maybe in the 19th century on a battlefield that was (and even then you had battle standards), but it isn't now. You see it in textbooks, on your computer screen, as an icon for a football game team, right next to you in a government office. Why privilege distance? You just made that up as a value. 99% of "flag consumption" is not seeing it at a distance.

The "only use ~3 colors thing" is the funniest, you can just argue this with...no? No you don't. You don't. What? No. You can...you can just use more colors? Here is an example from the "manual" Ted Kaye wrote on the subject:

And the 5 bands on the chinese flag are fine! They are not "hard to look at" or whatever. Also, I am screenshotting a tiny corner of a youtube video, this image is like 240p, and I can tell its a dragon - and that isn't even the color point it is trying to make, dude just deviates off into another critique. Meanwhile the Amsterdam flag looks like a traffic warning sign. Chinese flag needs to not have the white stripe connect into the white seal background, that is an error, but otherwise I prefer it.

It is annoying how many of the state flags are a blue banners with a round seal in the middle. That does make them hard to distinguish from each other. But that isn't a problem with seal-on-blue, that is just a collective action problem! Flag-reform-favourite the tricolor can run into this too - here are the flags of the Netherlands and Luxembourg:

Like one of your needs to go home and change, that is ridiculous. Though if you had a complex seal in the middle that might avoid this problem! Funny that.

Even the "no words on a flag" argument, which I am more sympathetic to, doesn't hold up too well because too often you find yourself going "unless it is good" which just isn't a rule. The Iranian flag is the stand-out he mentions:

The middle crest is a stylized rendition of the name Allah, and the cursive lining on the tricolor bands are text as well - God Is Great, 22 times, marking the anniversary date of the Islamic Revolution. Stylistically beautiful, also words on a flag. The state flags just didn't try to do anything artistic.

I think the best point Premodernism mentions is a sort of stylistic unity Kaye & Co are pursuing above all else - everything sacrificed for corporate minimalism. Kaye's book will say it respects history and symbols should be meaningful, but then hates any symbols that require complexity. He singles out Turkmenistan as an ugly flag for example:

And as I said I only 50% disagree sometimes, I do think there is a complexity limit, and this flag goes over it, that is too detailed. Though the main reason this flag is bad is the weird choice to not put the banner at the edge, and have the crescent just...float off center? If it was this:

Two seconds in paint, already better, you can play with it. But anyway, you can say the symbols are too complex, but if you also say you care about historical meaning? Turkmenistan is a nation of traditional semi-nomadic tribes, who populated the Silk Road and made textiles as their ultimate expression of art. These carpet guls are traditional symbols used in those carpets that represent the five major tribes that compose the country. You can't just invent new symbols that have equal meaning to these, right? Like you can try if you want, sure, new symbols become meaningful all the time. But a rule that says "all art from before 1950 is tossed in the dumpster because it wouldn't pass muster as a Pepsi logo" is a weird rule to adopt if you say you value historical meaning. Turkmenistan does not have to look like France, and it is weird to want every national symbol to be aesthetically coherent to each other. Let 100 flags bloom! It is certainly "distinct at a distance" lol.

Anyway that is enough summarizing of a YouTube video - as I mentioned, he actually likes the state flags, I don't, I do think you have to balance a lot of this with just "general design principles". Never have your name on a flag in Helvetica Bold, amazing I had to write that one down for you. But a lot of these flag-specific rules derived from Kaye's work I often see bandied about are silly, and I was glad to see someone point that out.

[thatweirdbitchjax]

Can you write a muti slasher with an s/o that does this ⬆️

I belive you mean that they eat kinda lasily so that what I'll write. :)

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Art the Clown, Nubbins Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer, and Chop-Top Sawyer

Tired Eater

Art the Clown

Genuinely leaves you there

Tries to wake you up by snapping in your face

^gives up about five minutes later

Can't be bothered to wait for you

Will leave you there and come back later to pick you up

Tries to mime at you to get you to hurry up

Thomas Hewitt

Is very worried

Taps his momma's shoulder to ask her what to do

^Gets told to try and help you eat at least a little bit, then lead you up do bed

If Hoyt even tries anything, Thomas is chuncking him into a wall

^Fr, he got grounded (he wasn't allowed to see you for three hours)

Takes all the beatings for you

At first he thinks it's heat exhaustion so he tries to make sure you're not over-working yourself

^And god forbid he find out Hoyt is making you push yourself way past your limits

Nubbins Sawyer

You think you can be tired at a table with this guy?!

You are highly mistaken

He is, without a doubt, hooping and hollering, shaking you, shaking the table

He's shaking everything to keep you awake

Drayton yells at him a few times to cut it out

I like the idea that Drayton is a lot sweeter towards you rather than his brothers, so if you are still trying to eat after everyone else is done, he'll come over and gently shake you, tell you to go on up to bed, and that he's got the dishes tonight

Nubby doesn't understand why you're feeling this way, but he will grab you like a koala grabs a tree and hold onto you all night long, just to (try) to make sure you get enough sleep (should I start writing a series about how they sleep?)

Bubba Sawyer

So worried

He, like Thomas, is also worried that you might have gotten heat exhaustion

Despite Drayton yelling at him not to, he grabs you and carries you down to the basement with your food, hoping that it would be cooler down there so you could eat

He sits with you and helps feed you as well, hoping to help you feel better

He starts doing his chores quicker so he can start helping you with yours, hoping you won't get so exhausted

Chop-Top Sawyer

Again, he is hooping and hollaring, if you can still be tired through that, then even I'm worried about you

It kinda ends in the same way as Nubbins, however he is more worried about you then Nubbins

He knows a bit more, and knows it can still be pretty hot, so you probably have heat exhaustion

He tries getting you a fan, laying down on the floor with you (you ended up just falling asleep) but eventually, he just shook you awake and fed you

^Wouldn't suggest that tho as he can get kinda finicky when anywhere around your face, so he will start shaking and probably accidentally stab the roof of your mouth with the utensils he was using to feed you :|

Anyways, hope you enjoyed. Sorry it took me so long. I have another ask in my box that I will start working on soon.

@puppet200 @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @zeroisreallygood @im-a-simp898 @artsycrow46 @evry1h8s-me @aflairforthemelodramaticc @caretaleandotherstuff

[revelboo]

Skin and Bones Pt 7

IDW Megatron x Reader

• It’s so subtle a change he almost misses it, the way he looks forward to returning to his quarters knowing that you’re there. You’re waiting and happy to see him after a long day of the idiocy of dealing with a barely cohesive army that would eagerly try to overthrow him given half a chance. There’s no cunning plots behind your smile, just you. Earlier, he’d overheard Skywarp asking the Constructicons if they’d seen you, so the Seekers had finally noticed you were gone, but he has no intention of returning you to their care.

• Tearing into a packet of ramen, it’s a fight to make yourself break up the dry noodles into manageable chunks. Uncooked, they’re about as appetizing as cardboard, but you haven’t mustered up the courage to just ask to be allowed out to get your own food. Not that you have any money, you’d lost all of your belongings when Starscream had kidnapped you. Even if you’d be allowed to go to a store, you’d end up having to shoplift and that’s as depressing as thinking too closely on how Megatron’s gotten the food he’s brought you. It’s almost a relief when the door opens and you have a distraction from your meal even if you are hungry. Standing, you lift both arms, palm up because as gruff as the huge, former warlord is, he’s very tactile.

• Venting in bemusement as you wait for him to carefully curl his servos around you and pick youup, he almost laughs. And there’s that smile that drains away all the tension and frustration. “Waiting for me, little one?” He rumbles as he carries you to his desk, but not before noticing the open packet of food you’d left behind unfinished. You’re a finicky thing, picking at whatever human food he brings you. He’ll have to find something new to try. There’s always trucks full of food on the highways, it’s only a matter of finding one on a lonely stretch of road. “You’re not eating.”

• “I am,” you say with a guilty wince. Unwilling to admit to him how awful raw ramen is to you, because he’s trying to take care of you. Worrying over you all the time like you’re made of glass. “Just not hungry.” For raw ramen, anyway. One of his servos slides against your neck under your jaw as he makes a rumbling noise before almost reluctantly letting you loose on his desk so he can pour over his alien gibberish reports.

• An easy peace warms him as he keeps half his attention on the report and the rest on you. Watching that you don’t wander too near the edge, smiling when you climb up on top of his arm and sprawl on your belly. Watching the glyphs scroll by even though he knows you can’t read it yet. That easy affection of yours settling in his spark. Especially when you lay your head down and fall asleep there, trusting yourself completely into his care.

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[cramathonn]

ello! are your requests open? if so id like to request lighter x reader headcannons, can be nsfw

tbh an nsfw alphabet would be awesome but it’s up to you if you wanna do that much

anyways take your time, dont forget to drink water, byee! 👋

Oho? An NSFW alphabet request? For the very first time in all of my years of request writing? Hell yeah sibling! Let's get this show on the road!

After finishing thoughts: I started this before he came out... I was right about so many things about him and ON ACCIDENT... Welp, had to edit very little, but enjoy! Sorry for the long wait thought, that's my bad 😞

Reader: meant for anyone to read! No body parts will be specified and no pronouns except "you/yours" will be used

TW: none (as far as I am aware)

Content type: headcanon

MDNI! THERE WILL BE NSFW AFTER THE CUT!

Lighter NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Butterfly kisses all over you and cleaning you up. Doesn't mind a quick after sex showers but they're not a must to him, so he'll only hop in if you insist he joins you. If you don't mind being a bit sweaty untill next morning, he'll gladly cuddle you and take a shower with you in the morning before going out to fulfill his duties as the Sons of Callydon's champion.

B = Body part (their favorite body part in themselves and their partner)

Listen, lighter's favorite body parts of his are his hands and face. He knows he's handsome, he knows he's a damned catch, yet your reactions are the ones that make his heart skip a beat. When you cup his face while making out? Oh, that man is putty now, congrats. Absolutely LOVES letting his hands explore your body, clothed or not, specially if your hands are smaller than his. I can imagine him getting even more turned on just by the fact that he's able to hold both of your hands above your head oh so easily, it's as if you were made for him and his hands to hold.

As for you, I'd say he also has a liking to your face, more specifically, your eyes. Lighter loves seing your different expressions, admiring how your eyes shine with the low blaze of the fireplace or how incredibly hot you look with them half-lifded, irises filled with desire as he touches you. Other favorite parts of his are your thighs and neck. Regardless if your thighs are built like sticks or squishy 'mallows, he will bite them, suck on them and mark them, because seeing them quiver at how good he's making you feel swells his heart with pride. And do I need to explain why the neck? Your scent is there, it's easy to see any marks he makes, if you don't wear high collared clothing, and it elicits such lovely reactions when he as much as touches it, so of course he loves your neck, let him bite it please.

C = Cum (anything cum related)

Lighter strikes me as the thick load type of guy. Doesn't release for long but it is thick. Prefers cumming inside of you, but won't argue if you'd prefer him to cum on your stomach. Oh but seeing your face coated in his relase? Immediate boner. He might have just came, but the moment he sees your face with ropes of his cum in it, it's joever, he's hard again and ready to go. Having you swallow his cum is also a big turn on for him, watching you loudly gulp it down just makes him all flustered inside.

However, if he's bottoming? Do whatever as long as it's not on his face, specifically his eyes. Like, he had to undergo surgery there for fuck's sake, so he's probably really finicky about things getting near them. Otherwise, go ham! Make him swallow you cum, coat his insides with it, cum on top of his pecks and/or stomach. Just keep it clean from his eyes and hair and you're Gucci.

D = Dirty Secrets (self explanatory)

He'd absolutely love to fuck you on his bike, I am not joking. The idea of you all beautiful, sweaty, naked on top of the seat of his bike while he fucks you, eats you or sucks you makes him so hard he has to excuse himself if he's around people.

Has an indescribable desire to masturbate together. Like, no sex, just the two of you masturbating in each other's presence or over a phone call. He wants to do it so bad but is INCREDIBLY anxious about asking it, so he'll leave it only for his imagination.

That and his wishes to be controled and degraded by you in bed. When Lucy degrades him? Nothing, nada, just another normal day. However, when you get angry and insult someone else? Gosh, he wishes that were him. You look so hot like that and he had no idea he liked that type of stuff... Also, pegging is involved in the "being controled by you" category. Please peg him. He'll never tell you he wants it, but god he's begging for it to happen mentally.

E = Experience (do they have experience and know what they're doing?)

My brain is split perfectly in the middle with this one. He either has a considerable amount of experience from his time in the underground ring or he has absolutely zero experience besides the few old movies he managed to fetch from the dumps. For the sake of making it more interesting for me, I'm going with the option that this motherfucker is a damned virgin before he meets you.

If you have more experience? Take the lead, show him what you like, how to pleasure you, help him explore himself and what makes his brain tick, what makes his throat tighten and his eyes glaze over. If neither of you have experience? Go slow together, explore each other and learn what each of you likes. He is absolutely embarrassed that he doesn't know what to do, so please be understanding and take it easy on your teasing for the first time.

Listen, I know he gives fuckboy vibes, the man with the rizz, people puller, the master of the dirty tango (kms for this one/j) but like, he only knows how to partially pleasure himself. Otherwise? Lighter has no idea where to touch or what to do. He would absolutely take the naughty tapes he found in the dumps and the few videos his poor internet allows him to acess as a guide, you'd have to slowly guide him through it.

F = Favorite position (self explanatory²)

In my eyes, Lighter doesn't really have a favorite position. He has preferred ones, yes, but he isn't against trying new ones. The ones he prefers more are Missionary and Cowgirl.

Why those two? Well, he can see your face and stare deep into your eyes in both and he also can grab your thighs during cowgirl to bring you down on him. Bonus, missionary can be varied in of itself! Arms around his neck, above your head, tied to the bed, heck it can even turn into a mating press if both of you are up for it. Its versatility and the fact he gets to see you sprawled beneath him or domineering above him makes it his most preferred position by far.

G = Goofy (Are they serious, goody, etc...)

He falls more on the serious side of the coin. Now, Lighter won't be against cracking a joke here and there, but he's not going to do it all the time. Considering we're going with the "Lighter has no sex experience" belief, he'd originally think he'd have to be hella serious during it, thanks to the videos he watched, but as things progress, he'd realize he could be a bit more goofy. It's not goofy all the time for obvious reasons, but he will tease you and strike a joke every now and then. After all, sex is also supposed to be an enjoyable and fun activity, and jokes are funny, right?

H = Hair (how well groomed? Do the color match?)

Listen, dude might live in the Outer ring, but I like to imagine he is partially groomed. He sees it getting too long and trims it, that's all he does, he doesn't want to yank it or fully shave it. As for color, yes, the carpet does match the drapes, albeit they're slightly more wavy down there at the very tip

I = Intimacy (are they romantic during it?)

Lighter is, to no one's surprise, very romantic during it (or tries to be). We already know that he is weak to romance, and I quote, would be willing to die for love. So, as someone who values you a LOT, he'd be romantic, trust. Kissing you while he fucks you, telling you how much he loves you, this man is pulling all the cards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanons)

So, I mentioned it earlier, that sometimes he gets so hard he needs to jack off in order to get back to duty. Does it happen often? No, no it doesn't. Lighter is very well composed majority of the times and very respectful of you and your wishes. If you're not up for it, he'll understand and just go take care of his needs by himself. He doesn't see it as being neglected because, hey, not everything's about sex and his partner's wishes are just as important as his.

Now, if Lighter gets a hard on just as he's about to depart for a job with the Sons of Callydon, bro will be so frustrated (and embarrassed), get off his bike, excuse himself for five minutes (it's two), go at it as fast as he humanly can without hurting himself, clean as best as possible, go back like nothing happened and go to the mission. He has a reputation to keep, he can't be looking disheveled after a quick one or let anyone KNOW he beat a quick one, by that matter.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This is the part where my brain wrecks itself because "do I throw my own shit here or do I go crazy?", so I decided to do BOTH!

Lighter striked me as the type to be super into degradation and praise during it. Getting degraded by you, called a slut, a dirty whore and the likes? Oh gosh, he's whimpering, he's a mess, he needs more. After the one time Lighter heard you degrade someone, that kink woke up. And boy oh boy, he might look all cool and stuff, taking compliments from others relatively well, but the moment YOU compliment him? It's over, he's a flustered shy mess and he will deny it to his GRAVE. However, complimenting him during it, saying how good he's doing, will make him almost immediately cum. He is a SERVICE first and foremost, keep that in mind.

Another one he looks like he'd have would be heat play specifically. Drip body safe wax on his body and watch him shiver at the sensation, he loves it. Also choking, please let him do it to you or do it to him. Like I said earlier, he loves your neck and loves seeing his hands on your body, so his hands enveloping your neck? Oh boy, that's so hot to him.

Another one: shibari. Tie him up or let him tie you up. That kink goes along his powerplay, not in a master way, because I think he'd cringe at that, but in a "I am in control here" situation. Being completely under your control is exhilarating to him and he'd absolutely love it. And another obvious one to me, biting. He loves seeing his bitemarks on you and loves the thought of being bitten back (if you do it, he will let out a low moan, so be aware of the power you hold)

L = Location (favorite locations to go at it)

Lighter prefers to be intimate in the comfort of his or your room. Or a secluded place where you two won't be seen, heard or be at risk of danger. He likes the persona he has in front of others and doesn't wanna ruin that but he also really appreciates his privacy, specially for things and situations such as these. While he's not opposed to doing it in public, he'd much rather do it at home, in your shared bed or at any location inside your house.

M = Motivation (what gets them going?)

Seeing you in little to no clothing. Yes, he's seen you naked, yes he's seen you in your underwear, yet it still gets him needy for you, same goes for sexy and/or tight clothes! You whispering dirty things into his ear, your consent and eagerness to go at it just as much as him ough, it makes him go crazy. Have you ever heard the saying "consent is sexy"? Yeah, that's Lighter's motto. He sees you consenting to him fucking your brains out? He's 10x more bricked now, good luck.

N = No (things he wouldn't do, turn offs)

Anything that involves blood. It's common knowledge he cannot stand the sight of it properly, so anything that involves blood is a no go. Also, consensual noncon is also a no go to him. Yes, you might have given your consent, but it feels wrong to him and makes him uncomfortable, so no.

O = Oral (giving, receiving, skill, etc...)

He is pretty indifferent on wether he receives or gives. But again, we're in the "Lighter is a virgin" timeline, therefore, he's not very... Skilled? I mean, he is naturally talented, but besides what he knows from masturbation, he's pretty much in the dark.

Once he gets the ropes though, he's a fucking expert at it, eats you out like you're his favorite dish and sucks you so well like GOD no one has given you head that good before...

Will melt and become a mess if you eat him out or give him head though. Eat him out for the first time and he'll be conflicted, but also on cloud 9. So, give him a break after so he can catch himself and process how he feels about this (he likes it, please eat him out more).

P = Pace (self explanatory³)

Lighter is, at first, slow and insecure. He has no experience, after all. But once he knows what he likes and what you like, it's on sight. You want fast and rough? Alright, he gotchu, you want him to go deep and strong but slow? Already on it! He can vary his pace pretty easily but, when on the receiving end, go rough. When he's feeling sore, be gentle with him but otherwise, go as rough as you can. He wants to feel every part of himself screaming the next day due to how good you made him feel.

Q = Quickie (opinion on them)

Doesn't mind them but prefers longer sessions. If the both of you are horny and in a rush, sure, he doesn't mind it, but wouldn't trade it for long nights with you.

R = Risk (do they take them)

Lighter prefers to play things safe. He is willing to experiment, yes, but if it involves risky things, you'll both need to have a looong talk about it and ensure you're prepared in case anything happens. If you TRULLY want it, he can try, but he'd prefer not to take unnecessary risks, specially not with you

S = Stamina (self explanatory⁴)

Bro is a BOXER for fuck's sake, he has a really good stamina. Can go until you're tired but usually lasts up to 5-6 rounds. Can last more with the... Right incentive (cough cough, aphrodisiac, cough cough), but comfortably lasts 5 and 6 with strain. He starts to cum faster after round 3 so... Be aware of that

T = Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? Self or partner?)

Again, virgin Lighter timeline. He has them, but most likely hasn't used them due to his anxiety. But if you offer to use it on him, he's not so opposed to it- oh, oh he's a moaning mess now... Welp, there's your answer, ig. Vibrators get to him faster, so if you make him use one in public, it'll take all of his might to maintain his composure and not just fucking FALL. He prefers when you use toys on him, but is willing to use them on you too if you really want it.

U = Unfair (do they tease? How much?)

Yes, he teased. When he's on top and dominating, he's going to tease you a lot, specially if you're acting a bit... Bratty. But when he's bottoming? Oh he's a brat, alright. He teases the ever living shit out of you because he finds your reactions endearing (and because it gets you to fuck him harder more often than not)

V = Volume

Top → grunts and huffs, bottom → moans and whimpers. Listen, his noise and his volume depend on his position and it is final. If he's bottoming, he'll be loud, moaning like a bitch in heat, cursing everything because of how good you're making him feel. But if je tops, he lets out more grunts, groans and growls. He'll still curse, but in more of a gruff voice when compared to bottom Lighter moments.

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Listen here, he's either trans and has the juiciest pussy known to man, or he has the biggest dick ever. In both headcanons he has mantits and ass, ok, those are interchangeable. He also likes when you slap his ass and collar him.

Do it, I dare you, he'll moan.

If you slap his ass in public he'll flinch and let out a TOTALLY not manly yelp and will proceed to glare at you with flushed cheeks.

Oh yeah, he also hides his flushed face behind his scarf (when he has it in hands, otherwise he uses his arms)

X = X–Ray

9 inches, slight curved up and thick. Rosy tip, methinks, with some veins popping out very slightly (good luck sucking that)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A considerably normal sex drive, when compared to his stamina. His mind is dirty, sure, but he doesn't want it all the time. When he wants it, though, it hits him kinda hard. Please help him, he's not rlly good at hiding it.

Z = Zzz (how fast do they fall asleep?)

Kinda fast, actually. He strikes me as the type to fall asleep considerably fast when he's not stuck overthinking... Or when he's been sucked dry beyon belief, turned into a raising, even. So yeah, he falls asleep easily as long as he isn't overthinking or is deadass tired

Written by Cramathonn on 30/12/2024 [dd/mm/yy]

Finished at 11:02pm

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty eight

prompt: honey pairing: lando/oscar word count: 500w

Oscar is knee deep in a broken kettle disaster, when the little bell above the door tinkles happily and a gust of cold October wind brings a new customer into the store.

“With you in a sec!” Oscar yells, frantically fidgeting with the kettle’s baseboard. She’s a finicky one, but he knows if he can get her to be placed just like that, she will-

“Yes,” he whispers quietly to himself, as she springs back to life. “Alright, welcome to Piastri’s Teas, what can I- Oh,” he says, when he comes face to face with his new customer. He’s. Well. He’s very pretty, with piercing blue green eyes and a dazzling smile and a head full of perfectly styled curls and oh no.

He’s exactly Oscar’s type.

“Uh, you, uh. Hello,” Oscar stutters, eyes fluttering down to the crate in the guy’s hand, which is filled with jars of honey. “You, uh. Honey?”

“Yes, dear,” the guy says, corners of his mouth ticking up even further, a little sparkle appearing in those beautiful eyes.

Oscar drops the tea towel he was fiddling with. “Uh.”

“Sorry,” the guy says. “Alex has told me to stop making that joke. Anyway, I’m Lando, I’m here on Alex’s behalf because Alex is too lazy to do deliveries himself today.”

“Oh,” Oscar says. Alex is the local beekeeper he gets his honey from. He uses them for the teas and sells a few of them in the little display case with local products as well.

“He isn’t,” Lando says, when Oscar doesn’t say anything else. “Too lazy, I mean. He’s just very busy. I think. I don’t know, he asked, and I was bored, so.” He holds up the crate. “Honey!”

“Right, yeah. Thanks. You can put it over there, so I can. Yeah. Thanks.” Oscar wants to bang his head against the nearest flat surface. Potentially disappear through the floor. Anything that will stop him being a bumbling idiot over the first pretty guy that shows up in his store.

“Mint,” Lando says. “Alright, if you can sign here, so I can prove to Alex I actually did stuff, that’s me sorted then.”

Suddenly, horribly, Oscar doesn’t want him to leave. The chances of Lando ever returning here again are slim, and Oscar. Oscar can’t let him go, just yet. “Wait,” he says. “Tea. You want one?”

“Oh,” Lando says, perking up. “I love a cuppa. Do you have milk and sugar?”

Oscar does. He also held a ten minute rant last week to Logan about why he hates people who muddle the subtle flavors of tea with milk and sugar. But like. That was last week. People change opinions all the time. “Sure, yeah, give me a sec, will you?”

“Take all the time you need,” Lando says, plonking himself down on one of the chairs nearest to the counter. “Alex is paying me by the hour, so.”

Oscar laughs, and goes to make Lando a cup of tea. Lando, meanwhile, keeps up a rather steady stream of chatter, like he’s known Oscar all his life. Like they’re just two old friends, catching up. Like they do this all the time.

By the time Lando leaves, there’s three empty cups on the table in front of him, and a napkin with his phone number on it is safely tucked away in the front pocket of Oscar’s apron.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

Can i request like la squadra and their s/o but they are the complete opposite of them?

Like Risotto is stoic and his s/o is emotional or Ghiaccio who is short tempered and his s/o is calm and very nice

ooh this is actually a very cool prompt to write - personality descriptions in prompts make writing feel way less daunting but I understand if readers may not like a less applicable reader. Oh well, gonna write anyways.

----------------------------------------------

Formaggio

You're finicky, on-edge, and I suppose a bit of a perfectionist(?)...maybe "control freak" is a better way to word it? Either way, you need things to go right, perfectly as you plan.

Not to say Formaggio is careless, but he does things on-the-go (you telling me he planned to jump into the sewers?) and doesn't mind if things get messy.

You two are each other's reasonable thoughts. If you think one of his ideas is too risky and need him to weigh the consequences he'll listen to you completely, and in return he opens you up to just...letting some things happen.

He eases your anxieties when they're excessive, but is beyond attracted to your work ethic and smarts. He'll hold your hands and listen to your every idea if you'll listen to his.

Illuso

Soft-spoken and definitely not a confident one, it's difficult for most people to look at you two and understand how you could've ever gotten together in the first place. Maybe you even have these doubts yourself.

But he never lets you feel those doubts for long. At first he honestly probably wasn't the nicest! But when you managed to capture his heart and hints of a connection began to show, he allowed himself to slow down a bit and really understand you. Care about you.

And when you feel anxious about the relationship, he always reminds you how much he loves you (take it sexually if you want, but I don't mean it like that). Just...only in the mirror world. Trust me, he's not embarrassed about loving you, it's just more comfortable for both of you. His image and your nerves.

In the privacy of his own safe world, he doesn't need to worry about how vulnerable he is, and he can praise and encourage you as much as you need. A moment for him to feel softer and you to feel stronger.

Prosciutto

You must be Pesci's twin or something - difference is he isn't as harsh with you. Sensitive and a follower, not a leader, maybe you feel security in Prosciutto's straightforward, no-nonsense demeanor.

Prosciutto is good at seeing the strengths in someone and raising their confidence as we see in canon, and he surely does it with you. He can see how gentle and well-meaning you are in everything you do and he reminds you of your greatness whenever you fear being "too soft"

In turn you offer the quiet he needs sometimes. He is relatively fine with spending a life alone, but a balance of peace and your company is better than he could've imagined. And don't worry about not being good at comforting others with words, he was never one to enjoy that kind of comfort anyways.

I don't know how else to end this section so....imagine him holding your hand :) DO IT NOW

Pesci

If someone were to describe you, they sure would call you brave, headstrong, and....maybe not the brightest? You aren't stupid! You just...aren't the smartest, and it's very clear. However, your open nature makes it easy for Pesci to talk to you.

You see the sides of Pesci that a lot of people take way too long to notice, like how observant and clever he can be. You don't see him as too soft, you know that he takes his job as seriously as he can.

While his meeker nature doesn't do much to dilute your chaos, he never feels bad about it! You're the light of his life, and honestly he really looks up to you!

If you want to stand up for him when his teammates pick on him, go ahead! I mean, the only thing you'll achieve is becoming their second target, but uh....maybe it's a bonding opportunity?? Even if nothing comes from it, he will love you forever.

Melone

What a fucking prude you are. A prude based on NOTHING. My goodness. Were you a sheltered child perhaps? Jokes aside it's a miracle you two can stand each other. Melone isn't picky with partners but someone like you? You're so incompatible at first that the gang assumed he had other plans for chasing you.

Emphasis on at first. Maybe you were a challenge to him, a "passion project" to see how much he could open you up one way or another. I can't say which ways it worked or not, that's for your own interpretation, but in time you became the most annoying couple the team had ever seen.

If you weren't teasing each other, you were bickering in a tease-y way. And if you weren't bickering, Melone was teaching you some sciencey shit in a voice so syrupy sweet that Ghiaccio's practically retching.

Maybe you try to flip the script, try to pick his brain and open him up like he tries to do to you; oh you're lucky he loves you so much, you're the one person he will do anything for.

Ghiaccio

Growing up the way he did, he learned that everything about him is wrong, and everyone is a threat at worst, liability at best. Even you, with your patient smile and kind words and....how you actually...listened to him rant.

He's scared of you, then pissed at you, then so confused by you he doesn't know what to do. If you didn't make the first move then a relationship just isn't happening. While he's the more assertive of you two, you'll have to do the heavy lifting just that once.

Falling for a person so different is easier, but maintaining the relationship is harder on his end, I'm not even going to lie. Sometimes he's frustrated by your unconditional love, sometimes there's a savior-like feeling he has about you, sometimes he fears these ever-changing feelings, and tried to distance himself from you. But you...always help him through it.

And don't think it's only you changing him, he also encourages you to stand up for yourself, to speak your mind, to put your own mask on first sometimes. (insert italian screaming)

Risotto

He's not emotionless, at least...he doesn't like to think so. But in this line of work he needs to keep a tight lip and blank stare. Something he's perfected. So when he watches you openly sob at a movie, curled against his body as you sniffle and choke, he doesn't get moved to the same extent.

Do you get to see Risotto's true emotions? Yes...in time. You've both got targets tattooed to your back, so if he ever thinks it's safe enough to get close to you to the point of being openly emotional, it's because you've spent several YEARS together.

But he understands you, he feels the same as you as you shout or grin or cry. Not only does he understand your emotions, but you may be secretly amplifying his own. There's no tears, but a tearing, clawing feeling in his heart. No smile, but a fuzz in his face that he can't clear out.

You are the ocean and he is a rock, standing strong through every storm and watching both the rage and the calm with equal admiration.

[tacitoru]

pleaser (2) - gojo satoru ; geto suguru

pairing: gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

summary: You wish someone would have told you how lonely college would be. Classmates and other students outside the newspaper staff keep you at arm's length. People tend to give you a wide berth. It's no big deal - for a journalist, you are laughably not a people person. Small talk makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Relationships are tedious. People are finicky and prone to lying. Unreliable. Getting close to the star players on the university's basketball team was only supposed to be a means to an end. And then it's a little more than that.

rating: explicit (eventual smut)

tw: basketball!au, enemies to lovers, journalism

wc: 4k

ch: 2/5

read on ao3

Then

“Your eyes will get stuck like that.” 

Your editor-in-chief is not at all surprised to find you sulking. Shoulders slumped, arms crossed as you glare petulantly across the foyer of the student union. You don’t play aloof very well.

She stands shoulder to shoulder with you and follows your gaze. 

In the distance, two basketball players donning signature sky blue jerseys draw a crowd near the student government office. They stand out among the sea of milling students like skyscrapers. The swath of unnaturally white - surely he wasn’t born like that? - hair on the tallest one is even less helpful in helping him blend in. A few passerby stutter in their steps trying to catch a glimpse of their faces. The young men have their backs to where the pair of you observe, in the middle of addressing the small audience. A mix of student government and faculty, the source of your ire stands amongst them. Kento Nanami stands at the head of the crowd with his smartphone in one hand and a tape recorder in the other held just slightly above the sea of heads. His blond hair and crisp blue button-up make him easy to pick out from the gang of suits. 

When snark doesn’t draw your full attention, Utahime calls your name instead. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

Furrowing your lips, your frown deepens. “Who the fuck even carries around a real tape recorder anymore? Does he not have the app on his phone?”

Your pseudo-boss shoulder checks you. Never one to miss an opportunity to play morality police. “Don’t be obnoxious,” she admonishes in what you think she thinks is her gentlest tone. “Not everybody has a smartphone.”

“He’s holding one, Utahime,” you snark back. 

The animosity catches you both off guard. You’re not typically one to be confrontational. In all of your years on the university’s newspaper staff, you’d suppose you’re akin to a fly on the wall. A floater, you’ve moved from section to section at the dismissal of the lead editors each year. It wasn’t that you were an incompetent writer so much as it was that no topic seemed to really stick with you. Student leadership wouldn’t let you go if they could help it - it was easier to keep and train staff members than to recruit. But they would never promote you - there was always somebody who fit the bill just a little bit better, who wrote with a little more flare. You were nearing the end of your senior year anyway. It was too late to even consider.

You’ve never really minded - never minded anything at all, really. The fact that almost all of the leadership was a year younger than you. Or the fact that you were consistently assigned fluff writing. That you had been skipped time and time again for any chance at covering anything more important than the carpets in the library being updated from green to gray, or minor changes to a dining hall’s dietary restrictions.

A perfect passive participant on staff, you follow all the rules. Do every story they assign you. More often than not, it’s the ones nobody else wants to bother with. They offer you some sort of loose camaraderie in return; a pat on the shoulder, a lukewarm invite to be a plus one to a holiday party. All of the necessary tools for social survival in college.  The news, cultures, and opinion columns shuffled you around semester by semester like a cumbersome stage prop. Comfortably standing in the shadow of your peers. You never ask for anything.

So you decide to be a little nicer to Utahime, to whom all this attitude must be coming out of left field.  

Never taking your eyes off the crowd, you ask with a little less bite, “Did they tell you when the press conference is yet?”

They , as in the athletics department, had been keeping zip tight on the details of the university basketball team’s newest arrivals since they had touched down in the States over the weekend. The pair of you watch as the shorter one, a young man (albeit still a full head taller than most of his audience) with black gauges and his hair pulled into a bun, delivers a short comment that causes a laugh to ripple through their onlookers. You think you see even Nanami, of all people, crack a smile. It’s hard to tell for sure from this distance.

It wasn’t unusual for the staff on the student newspaper to share tips and ideas or track events on campus together, but it’s irregular for you to be among them. There was no need to ask for help when your stories were practically written out for you. Today however, you had kept a keen eye out for your fellow writers on campus, ear to the ground all morning as you sought out some kind of - any kind of - hook that could solidify your claim to what was sure to be one of the most memorable feature story of the year: the athletics department's annual exchange student program.

“Do they allow players to wear gauges on the court?”

“You’re asking me a lot of questions for somebody that’s not assigned to this beat.” Utahime sighs. The awkward moment rolls off her shoulders with an ease you’re becoming familiar with. “I’m not giving you a press pass.”

“I - okay?” You wilt a little, shoulders slumped as Utahime takes the next question right out of your mouth. “I didn’t even say anything. That’s not even what I asked.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face-,” You duck the graze of her knuckle as she moves to brush a faux tear, but the unimpressed look on her face remains. “But no. I haven’t heard anything from the coaches yet.”

You try and fail to hide your disappointment. You refuse to pout in front of your boss. Utahime had a softer spot for you than most of your fellow staff members - as a writer who had been on staff for so long with little to no promotion or department to call home in all four years of your college career, whispers of questions around the validity of keeping you on staff started to circulate well into the winter semester.

“Why were you so interested in doing this feature anyway? I got the feeling you didn’t like writing for this kind of stuff.” You never ask for favors; she tells you as much. “I’m just surprised, is all.” 

From your peripheral, Utahime looks at you curiously, a hand on her chin. Maybe it was because she was a year younger than you, and pitied the disposition she found you in after being elected into the chief position. But even that softness only went so far.

You shake your head, still watching the crowd from across the lobby. The taller basketball player, the white-haired guy, sticks out among the crowd like a dandelion, bending and swaying to an invisible breeze while he crowds into the space of his teammate. You crinkle your nose - his posture is surprisingly terrible.

“Kind of stuff?”

“Y’know, just - sports? Your strong suits have been more like…like, what kinds of water bottles have been popular on campus! Oh, or that listicle you did of all of the best fall-themed soundtracks-,”

“-that we published in the spring -,” 

Utahime waves you off. “That’s not the point.” 

She launches into a reassuring ramble, throwing a hand up when you don’t start to look any more appeased. The motion seems to catch Nanami’s attention from across the foyer’s open floor. He doesn’t crack a smile, but waves at the pair of you with his phone-holding hand, polite as ever. You wave back. When he turns away, your pout melts into a grimace. Tuning Utahime out, your eyes wander back to the head of the crowd, only to choke on your gasp. You’ve also inadvertently caught the attention of one of the exchange students - and he looks pissed . 

From where he stands, the white-haired wonder boy has twisted the whole top half of his body to bless you with the ugliest look of contempt you’ve ever had the displeasure of witnessing in your short life. He only rights himself when his dark-haired teammate corrals his focus back to the congregation ahead of them with a gentle hand on his shoulder. It’s enough of an interruption to make you turn your whole back on the entire debacle in embarrassment.

Utahima continues to do her best impression of placating you, hands folded above her chest as she pleads. “- And, you know, it would just be a lot easier for everybody, really, to give this to somebody who already knows if players are allowed to wear gauges on the court, and other frivolous shit like that instead of wasting time asking me.”

You make a noise like a laugh through your nose, thinking of what she considers your strong suits. “Okay.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the objects of your interest begin to make their way out of the front of the building, enticing their crowd of university staff and students along with them. An underclassman tries to give the white-haired man a high-five in passing. He dismisses him with a shrug. Your resolve wavers. You follow all the rules. You never ask for anything.

“Look,” Utahime begins in a tone that makes you think uh oh. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re a capable writer. I hated turning you down so publicly at the staff meeting, and there’s no doubt that your contributions to the paper have been -,” she searches for a word “- impactful to our student body. But I need somebody who’s going to do this feature, um, quietly. I mean look how much attention those two are drawing and it’s not even time for lunch yet.” 

Two girls run straight into each other, phones clattering to the ground, their eyes glued to the spectacle making its way out of the building. You can’t help but snicker, a little less forlorn. Requesting to cover the feature story for the exchange students had been the first time you had stuck your neck out for yourself, only to be succinctly rejected in front of your peers. Utahime hadn’t even the decency to pretend to hesitate. At least you’re not the only one making a fool of yourself today.

Utahime fixes you with a look that makes you straighten up a little, all business.

“I want to get this right the first time, and it’s already going to be hard between the fangirls, the fanboys , and the limited press access during the season. Can you promise me that you won’t try to butt in?”

In lieu of answering Utahime’s question, you ask, “You’ll let me know when they do, right? When you hear back from them.”

Somehow, she manages to glare harder.

You suck your teeth, sigh, and relent, “I promise.”

The editor-in-chief doesn't look entirely convinced, but the severe expression on her face relaxes nonetheless. “There’s no need to worry,” Utahime’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she turns on her heels as she checks the notification, effectively closing the conversation. “Nanami will do this piece justice.”

The two exchange students stride towards the exit, seemingly now caught up in their own little world as they chuckle amongst themselves, hardly minding the entourage that follows. The afternoon sun floods the glass double doors with a bright light, and you watch after them as they push through. 

“But that’s what I’m worried about,” you mumble, resign, and follow her into the office.

You wish someone would have told you how lonely college would be. 

Classmates and people outside of the newspaper staff tended to keep you at arm's length once they learned of your extracurriculars, mostly for fear of one day seeing themselves among the crisp pages of the biweekly print. It was all in vain; in your four years being juggled between columns, you had never aired out anyone’s dirty laundry. You were diligent in your moral code, however gray. People tended to give you a wide berth nonetheless.

It was no sweat off your back - for a journalist you are laughably not a people person. Small talk made you want to crawl out of your skin. Relationships were tedious. People were finicky and prone to lying. Unreliable. Their stories, however - actually, maybe just as much so, but that was an entirely different thrill. And yet as graduation crept closer, your lackluster portfolio mocked you far worse than your meager contacts list. Submitting job applications felt like shooting blanks at a target while blindfolded. You needed a miracle - and fast. 

It’s just your luck that the evening you are the last to lock up the student newspaper office, two miraculous things happen at once: the lead sports editor forgets his press pass at his desk just as two of Japan’s highest-ranking athletes in men’s college basketball officially announce their transfer to your institution as part of some long-running good-will exchange program.

The first anomaly is sports editor Kento Nanami’s sudden bout of forgetfulness. In his rush to make it to the press conference early, he had left the badge on his desk. You’re nice enough to promise to drop by the auditorium where it’s being held, telling him as much over text. Your peer responds with the same level of dryness you’ve come to associate with him.

Thanks. Read 6:46 PM.

The whole thing already felt like a bad omen.

Enter anomaly number two, the two Japanese exchange students joining your school’s record-holding Division One basketball team for the year. The news had spread like wildfire across the campus of your large liberal arts college before it had even reached the newspaper. It was never a matter of why the exchange program was happening.

The university boasted an extremely impressive men’s basketball team that dominated the American college league in every sense of the word. Armed with a history of individuals who went on to become some of the highest-paid athletes in the NBA and a team of coaches with a tremendous wealth of experience, your sleepy liberal arts school has made a name for itself in the world of college-level athletics. It was inevitable that other institutions would want a piece of the pie, and Tokyo University had long established their in.

It was never a matter of why, but who.

They’re gorgeous. Inarguably so. A pair of athletes in a league of their own amongst their peers both in the States and on their home turf, both parties of which you’ve witnessed trip over themselves in a clumsy dichotomy of disdainful and overbearing eagerness already in the short time you’ve spent observing the team. Youthful, dripping raw athleticism, handsome beyond words, and worst of all, they know it - the smarmy one with shocking white hair tells you as much when you meet for the first time in the elevator.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Satoru Gojo had every right to be brash and vainglorious. More popularly referred to by his last name, the famed shooting guard from Kyoto boasts an impressive track record under his belt, stats that put even the shiniest American college basketball players to shame. His inhuman height and athleticism make him a living nightmare to oppose. The strongest , the tabloids and play-by-play sports podcasts had labeled him. Even Nanami, of all people, had described him as a monster on the court. The lead sports editor is not the type to give compliments lightly - if that could even be considered one. But if Satoru Gojo is scary on paper, he’s fucking terrifying in person.

Heat crawls up your neck, and spills onto your cheeks, your gaze quickly returns to the floor. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. Without even having introduced yourself, you’ve somehow managed to tick him off twice in the span of a few days. 

It seems as though the universe has a sense of humor tonight. You had rushed across campus to the auditorium, press pass held in your iron-fisted grip in an attempt to beat the clock. Only to end up in the elevator crammed between the very two people you’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of on your way out. While you had been hoping for some sort of miracle to be tossed your way, this..this was…

Caught off guard and underprepared, you feel brittle like a leaf in the wind under the shared weight of their gaze. Later, when you playback the recording on your phone in your pocket, you pretend not to notice when you hear your voice shake.

Suguru Getou, the other exchange student and equally formidable athlete, admonishes his teammate softly. The one who, now that you’re standing close enough to confirm, does indeed wear black gauges. His hair is loose from its bun today, inky locks tossed carelessly over one shoulder.  They both don the university’s signature jerseys once again, the cleanest they’ll probably be all season. “Satoru, please.” 

Satoru . You make note of the use of his given name, spoken gently and laced with amusement, like a parent scolding a wayward child.

You might almost believe Suguru to be sympathetic if he also didn’t look one slick comment away from laughing at your discomfort. 

“What?” His teammate flat-out whines, having complete disregard for politeness - and personal space, apparently. He reaches over and flicks the piece of plastic clutched in your hand suddenly enough that it makes you flinch.

“Ain’t this a press pass? I’m just sayin’. They’ve got, like, a whole hour to do this shit.” Gojo gripes, scratching his head. In perfect English, they talk around you. Over you, like you’re just some physical inconvenience in the middle of a conversation they were already having. You probably are. Recognizing this doesn’t make your heart race any slower.

Out of the corner of your eye, the elevator ticks closer to the mezzanine floor, where you know Kento is waiting for you. This is your chance, this is your chance!

Like an idiot, you stumble over your words, trying for something between a convincing protest and solid introduction, quickly shoving the pass into the pocket that’s empty. “No, not all! Um, actually, I did have a few-,”

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival. Internally, you swear. Twice your build and stature, Gojo shoulders you on the way out without a second glance, nearly rocking you off of your feet.  Over his shoulder, he wags his finger at you. “Ah, ah, no head starts.”

Suguru is at least polite enough to offer a smile, albeit one you can’t determine if it's sympathetic or pitiful. He gives you a once over, so quickly you might have imagined it. “Good luck out there.”

Stepping out into the hall, you watch half-stunned as the two teammates swagger in the opposite direction of your destination, off to where you assume their coach and athletic staff await. 

Could you have possibly fumbled the ball any harder? You fiddle with your phone on the way to where Kento said he was last sitting, pausing your recording.  Fumble? No, that’s football. What’s the basketball equivalent..?

Your colleague paces anxiously in the top row of the mezzanine, waiting for you to pass off his badge. If you had been paying close enough attention, you might even say he was nervous for once. Any other day, that’d be something you’d revel in. But tonight, caught up in your train of thought, you miss the look that crosses his face when you hand him the press pass without so much as a greeting. 

“Are you okay?” He asks warily, more so out of obligation than kindness. You remember with stark clarity where he had been sitting at the staff meeting when Utahime rejected your request to cover the story - his stoic, unflinching expression when she announced it had been assigned to him. You had hardly been able to look him in the eye since. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“What do you call a fumble in basketball?”

Kento goes from overly cautious to puzzled. “...A fumble?”

“Ah.”

From where the pair of you stand at the height of the auditorium, the press gathered on the lower level look like a hungry, writhing mob. You observe them as they prepare for your esteemed guests, each armed with microphones and totting cameras with flash attachments the size of your fist. They face a backdrop littered with sponsorship logos, two seats, and an unimpressive table decorated in your school’s colors and laden with more microphones.

Kento moves to head to the elevator, only to hesitate at your contemplative look.

“Does this…” he sighs and starts over, fiddling with the pass slung around his neck. “I can’t bring you with me down there.”

“I know.”

“Or to any of the games.”

“I know.”

“Or interviews.”

You glance up, facing him full-on for the first time in days. Scanning his features for any sign of mockery. “...Okay.”

“But between this and the rest of the sports for this season, I’ve got my hands full.” On stage, the head coach appears to greet the slew of reporters, thanking them for coming out tonight. He begins to say a few words about the exchange students and the history of the exchange program. Kento’s eye twitches - you can feel him getting antsy. “I’m fine taking notes, but I could use some help with the drafting.”

A feeling wells up inside your chest. Amid all of the dejection, the disappointment, the worry - a glimmer of hope had appeared. Somebody was finally giving you a chance.

He offers his hand but you’re slow to take it. Eyes narrowed, you tell him rather than ask, “And I get credit.”

“Partial,” he acquiesces. “And we’ll be on the front page.”

The clamor beneath you begins to grow louder, and your colleague lurches back like he’ll jump over the balcony if that's what it will take to make it down there on time. Steel-eyed, you snatch Kento’s hand in yours before he can take anything back. 

“Deal.”

The crowd below you erupts into a thunderous roar of cheers. 

<< prev.

[soapywankenopy]

SDV car headcannons

[this gets pretty specific because i've had way too much time to think about it]

1. Harvey

Harvey drives an old, beat-up red Ford Ranger. It's a standard transmission, and the clutch is super finicky, so when he tries to drive other cars, he has a bad habit of shoving in the clutch too hard (or if it's an automatic, slamming on the break, thinking it's the clutch). It was a gift from his parents when he started med school. It was old when they bought it, but Harvey does his best to maintain it. He's not a "truck guy," but he changes his own oil and keeps it running well. He would like to buy a Subaru because quote, "they're very safe cars," but he doesn't use his truck a lot as it is, so he doesn't see a need to get a new car.

2. Leah

Leah drives a silver Subaru Baja. You can not convince me otherwise. She views cars as a necessary evil. It wasn't really all that useful in the city, but she's glad to have it now that she lives in Pelican town. It's well-loved, and it's pretty beat-up, but Leah says it works fine for what she needs it for.

3. Shane

He drives a 1999 Ford Taurus in that weird pinky-gold color. It smells like pizza and pepper poppers, and there are feathers in the backseat. Sometimes, he'll let Jas sit on his lap in the driver's seat and let her steer while he works the pedals. Mayor Lewis caught them once and was not happy. Shane does it anyway because it makes Jas happy.

4. Sebastian

He drives a motorcycle, lol. I admittedly do not know very much about motorcycles, but it looks like a blue Kawasaki Vulcan to me, but idk. (If you know more about motorcycles, feel free to give your two cents)

5. Sam

Sam does not have his own car, but he frequently borrows the family van. It's a silver 2003 Honda Oddysey. The van lands him with driver duty for the band and their equipment.

6. Elliott

Elliott disagrees with cars ideologically. He had a grey 2004 Mitsubishi Outlander that he inherited from his aunt. He sold it before he moved to Pelican town. He thinks it's more romantic to walk everywhere, but if you ask him why he walks everywhere, he'll say, "Because of the environment."

7. Penny

Penny doesn't drive. Pam tried a million times to teach her, but Penny just doesn't want to. She doesn't trust herself with such heavy machinery.

8. Maru

Maru does not have a car but will borrow Robin's work truck if she needs to. Sebastian definitely taught her how to ride a motorcycle. One of her many ongoing projects is a custom bike for Sebastian. Demetrius was very insistant that she learned to drive stick.

9. Abigail

Abigail does not know how to drive. Pierre was too busy, and Caroline never felt the need to teach her. She's happy to explore by foot, so it doesn't really bother her.

10 & 11. Emily & Haley

Their parents bought them a 2012 light green Toyota Prius to share. Haley thinks it's cute and Emily likes that it's a hybrid. Haley says eventually she might buy a blue Volkswagen Bug.

12. Alex

Alex doesn't drive and it's a sore subject for him. Don't bring it up. He might end up crying. He's always said that he would want a green Dodge Charger as soon as he learns to drive.

I have more headcannons about the other characters, so I may put them in another post

[mystiffox]

i have no other place to ramble for this but i have an au i want to develop. i just havent had the time to execute it. anyway:

— maelstrom au!

Jheselbraum (right axo) had found Bill (middle) just after the "liberation" of his dimension, and sought out The Axolotl (left) to help raise the now orphaned isosceles. Bill works alongside The Axolotl while he is still a higher being working under the realm of chaos and dreams.

i do have a lot of notes so bear with me:

→ The Axolotl — Salamander

is called Otis by Bill, Ax/Axo by Jhesie.

an ageless God graced with omnipotent power and is in charge of the space-time continuum.

technically the oldest sibling/father figure.

→ Jheselbraum the Unswerving — Oracle

→ Bill Cipher — The Isosceles

this Bill doesnt feel like one that'd use his last name a lot? idk its vibes. maybe goes by "The Eye" or gets called Iso.

still a dream demon but works under Otis' careful guidance.

youngest sibling core!! (time is always finicky around here- but he's def the youngest compared to many other Bill aus)

called Jhesie by Bill, Orie by Otis.

"middle" sibling of course. will reprimand Bill if he goes too far, but indulges him every other time as well.

idk much about her atm beyond her prophetic and psychic powers. if the henchmaniacs are around, she and Bill definitely are good friends with them (with Time Baby as well).

maelstrom is a placeholder for now, bc my logic is a group of axolotls is called a maelstrom of axolotls! (its not an official term tho)

im also very, very tempted to add Steve into this. i think Bill should have a friend thats also the only other surviving shape from his dimension.

if you guys have any questions on em, ask away! i'd love to hear your thoughts, they could help me expand this au a lil more :)

[alelathedragon]

Broken Star Mr.Puzzles

Full body reference!!! .....except his back being normal bc I didn't wanna.

You know what they say, Third Times the Charm!!!

I still took inspiration from @livzees post (ill link at the bottom for Ref) in the more mechanical parts of his reference and the colours, hope you enjoy my pictures and ramblings

While connecting himself to the Wishing Star Machine, it got absorbed into his body and did irreversible damage to his body and granted him the power of an Extra Star.... Meaning if he got 5 stars, he would now have 6 total. Even if this 6th star is very unstable and in pieces, it is still 100% functionable and gives Mr.Puzzles some new powers.

•Dreams Make Minions: he still has some of that power he had in the Amusement Park but can only summon small lil guys to do his bidding for a lil while. Nothing to crazy

•Psychics are for the weak: When using his 'Puppeteer Hand' Mr.Puzzles' body will go completely limp, and he can bend in angles he previously wouldn't have been able too. Think Mario breaking his own body for the funny type of psychics.

He mainly uses it to do freaking Spider Crawls across the floor but if his body wasn't a solid object he would totally be able to put his legs through his head and back at the same time and still touch the floor with his feet.

•He has a lil bit of his mind control power as a treat. But it's super finicky and he can't rely on it

•The power of friendship: Puzzles has locked himself away from any and all people interaction that isn't controlling their minds once again but it's a little... More... Than that now with the Star in his body.

Reacting directly to his Thoughts, when Puzzles enters a state due to either seeing the SMG4 Group or A group of friends simply having fun. He will progressively get stronger to the point of summoning demons or Eye Goop monsters to try and tear them apart physically into a million pieces 🤭 this takes a toll on him in massive amounts. He can't do this often but the power also.... Feels so good he doesn't need friends. Friends let him down, friends were never there, if he opens up again this will hurt more. THIS power... Is all he can rely on

Having one of those wires plugged into the back of his noggin left a big hole- and being bashed about in rubble scratched his precious handsome TV Head :(

He's tried to put his wires back in his head and fix up the scratches but being locked up doesnt give him a lot of supplies to do that- (I still say he's locked up, but not in an asylum and he escapes fairly quickly when he figures how he can summon nightmare creatures at his finger tips)

This hand can pop out at any time and seems to follow Zero Rules on how it functions. It doesnt matter where the metal arm attached to the eye fog is- the Star Hand will ALWAYS be above Puzzles moving around with his every twitch

Trying to break the hand only sends it flying apart as it is not connected fully anyways, however this is the easiest way to throw off Puzzles as if you bonk the hand making the fingers go flying Puzzles with GMod ragdoll into a mess on the floor and have to take a second to get back up as the star fingers come back together

He will try to have his Star Hand dodge but he's not good at that just like hes not good at protecting his face from being punched

Here's livzee's post!!! Thanks again for letting me use your own design as inspiration. My lanky guy AU wouldn't have been completed without you!

[noctilin]

I'm a fairly young artist(in my teens) and i've recently gotten carpal tunnel syndrome, is there any advice you have to avoid worsening my condition?

hi there! i'm sorry to hear about the cts. it's such a finicky thing but it's manageable with the proper attention. what makes it rather difficult is that cts is usually a case-to-case basis and not all treatment methods work the same for each person. so take this with caution.

that said, before anything else, I recommend that you keep in touch with your doctor and follow any medication prescribed. it's better if you have a hand specialist (orthopaedic) to look at it if you haven't yet. ask them anything you're curious about such as things that involve your regular activities.

another thing, you should know that my cts has gotten severe to the point that my orthopaedist recommended I take surgery, but at the time, my mother was vehemently against it and I was in no position to disobey her so I had to find my own way to live with the strain. I do find myself lucky that I was able to live my life a little normally after a bit of research and trial and error. just know that I'm not encouraging going against what doctors recommend, but if you find yourself in the same situation as me, then hopefully you'll be lucky.

these are what i found that worked for me and my lifestyle:

before you do anything else, do NOT do any stretches, exercise, or any activity if it causes you PAIN. it's normal to feel a bit of tension while doing stretches and exercises but you are NOT supposed to feel PAIN. stop immediately if you do and ask your doctor for advice. until then, avoid any activity and just rest your hands and wrists.

if you only have cts on one wrist (unlike me I have both,) I still recommend doing these things for both! just to keep things balanced. it'll be good prevention for the other wrist too anyways :)

you should also ask your doctor for vitamins for your cts! i took some for a while, I'm pretty sure it was vitamin B12. BUT please ask your doctor first!

stretches and exercises

for stretches, what i did was a routine of doing them before and after i get out of bed. this is very important especially if you tend to sleep with your wrists curled or under pressure, like putting it under your head. when you sleep, you are likely to hold a position for at least a couple or so hours before you move and toss and turn (sometimes not at all) this causes stress on your wrists for a prolonged time so it's important to stretch them before and after you sleep.

i also stretch before and after working/drawing. if you know you're going to be on the computer or workspace for a while, be sure to do this and do it every hour or so. your cts is more likely to give you problems if you keep doing repetitive activities such as drawing and typing without stretching.

you're going to see these things everywhere and your doctor might give you a diagram too, like mine did. but this is almost the same one I got from my ortho.

i like to do these as a break from work, but you can also do them before and after sleeping and/or working. just do each for about 15-20 seconds and make sure to relax your hand for about 5 seconds after each one to give your wrists a breather, so to speak. put on a lil silly youtube video while you do them! makes them less of a drag to do :-3

here are some great videos that helped me a lot as well! i mainly do these before and after sleeping/working but after a while I just start to do them randomly when I'm not particularly doing anything with my hands too.

what's great about these videos is that it's not sped up or skipped around, so you can do this "with" them. i personally find it hard to follow diagrams or sped up videos so it's nice to have a real time guide, if that makes sense. eventually, you'll remember these routines enough to not rely on the videos anymore. ^^

there's another exercise i like to do that I can't seem to find a video or diagram of but basically just do push-ups on the wall for about 20 times. this is also good for your back!

here is another easy one to do whenever you're idle or just want an easy stretch (old ladies taught me this lol)

when your wrists are feeling better, you can do some wrist strengthening. you can do this with a simple water bottle. don't use anything too heavy, you wouldn't want to strain. i'd say around 300~500g plastic water bottle is enough but, of course, find what works best for you! you're not here to body build, you just want some strength back on your wrists. do this upside too. about 15-20 times each.

tools

now that i've suggested the water bottle, here are some other helpful things!

1. wrist splint

to me, this is a MUST. please get anything like this whenever you can. i got mine from sports shops but you can also find them in medical supplies and pharmacies sometimes. i wore this when my wrists were still inflamed for 2 weeks. after the inflammation had subsided, I switched to using them every time I went to sleep. remember when I said how we tend to strain our wrists during sleep? this helps prevent that. don't use it when you're doing something though like being on the computer and drawing, I found it horribly uncomfortable!! using it when i was sleeping was enough for me.

2. ergonomic vertical mouse and keyboard

this mouse will help lessen the pressure on your cts while you're on the computer. some of them can get pretty expensive but honestly I just used a cheap 10$ one. it broke every 6 months but as long as it does its job!! if you have the budget for it, throw in an ergonomic keyboard as well. if not, you can opt for at least a cushioned wrist pad. also, try to get a mechanical keyboard with red switch keys. it makes them easier to click and use! membrane keyboards tend to have some resistance so I really do not recommend them.

3. stress ball

in the first exercise diagram you'll see one of them requires a stress ball. honestly just having one in general is pretty useful. squeeze it whenever you're not doing anything in particular.

lifestyle changes

here's where most of the trial error comes from. aside from drawing, I do a lot of things every day that require my hands, oftentimes straining them. chores such as cleaning, cooking, lifting groceries and whatnot. this made it difficult for me to recover during the time my cts was at its worst because BOTH of my hands were unavailable.

it was at this time my siblings didn't know how to cook either so I had to still move but with a lot of help from them. i asked them to chop anything harder than leafy vegetables, such as potatoes and carrots for me because I couldn't. i asked them to lift groceries for me and casseroles filled with water because I couldn't. the point is, if you have people around you who can help you, it's best to ask for it before hurting yourself even more. even now when my cts is more manageable, I still ask my siblings to do these things because admittedly my wrists are still weak.

some other changes i had to make was go from ceramic plating to plastic ones. this is because ceramic was too heavy for my wrists as well. i also changed from carrying grocery bags to buying a portable grocery cart. i also changed certain ways I draw and found myself more comfortable in using tools that help me. stuff like that, yknow? so it really depends on what your lifestyle is. but the rule of thumb is, don't make things harder than it should be!

speaking of ease of drawing, if you draw digitally, I highly recommend setting your hotkeys into something easier to reach. for example, my current hotkeys are like this so I don't strain my wrist and fingers from stretching so often.

this takes a while to get used to but I promise that it's worth it. :)

be careful as well of video games that put too much strain on your wrists. when I was recovering I couldn't play games like bayonetta because it was just too much button mashing and it made my wrists go nuts lol (I can't play skullgirls anymore </3)

i also play on a controller instead of a keyboard these days because it's less strain on my wrists. i use a ps4 controller so idk how other controllers would perform. also, if your game has controller vibration, TURN THAT OFF lol this thing makes my wrists go stupid every time.

i think it also is pretty obvious but, invest in a spacious and comfortable workspace! one that you have enough room to rest your arm comfortably while you draw or type or do anything for long hours. the reason I even got cts was because I had such a shitty makeshift table. you don't need to invest so much as to burn hundreds of dollars (but if you have the means, go for it!) I was able to make do with a simple desk chair and a spacious desk that was the right level for me.

remember, the goal is to lessen the strain on the wrists as much as possible. this includes pressing it onto hard surfaces and corners! big no-no! if your wrists hurt, stop everything, put the splint on and rest!

that's all i can think of to tell you. hopefully, you can find your way to manage things :) cts can be scary but with the right care, you'll still be able to draw and do things you like so long as you don't push it. take care!

[cepheustarot]

With whom and how will you spend February 14th?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: It will be quite an energetic, cheerful, active person, most likely younger than you. This person is quite passionate, very romantic, they will devote a lot of time to you, pay a lot of attention, will take care of you and will do everything for you to make you satisfied and happy. Also this person can be very creative: you can expect a gift from them that they will make for you themselves with their own hands. In addition they are quite calm and balanced, you feel comfortable and safe with them, you will not have a feeling of awkwardness next to them. There is always something to talk about with them, you can tell them about any topic, you can even have emotional and personal conversations. They are also those who do not condemn the actions of others and try to support their friends, their loved ones. 

As for how you will spend this day with them: you may be invited to some not very popular place where there will not be many people or it will be some kind of secluded place. There is also a possibility that you will spend this day at home but it will not be boring anyway. You will feel good with each other, you will talk a lot on any topic that day, get to know each other better — everything that will happen between you will only bring you closer, strengthen your bond. You will also receive a lot of attention, again, you may hear frequent compliments addressed to you, they will flirt with you a lot, they will pay a lot of attention, they can also give you something memorable that will surely please you.

Pile 2: You will spend this day with a person who is open to everything new, they like to try themselves in many fields, in many hobbies, they have rich life experience, they are quite erudite and understand many aspects. But most likely they do not have permanent interests or jobs, as they are still in search of themselves! A person is quite calm, not short-tempered, usually relies on his logic and life experience rather than on his feelings. They are also very responsible and take the matter seriously. They can also be called finicky, they are quite skeptical and biased about many things. But nevertheless this person always looks at things and people's actions fairly and objectively.

As for how you will spend this day with them: you can be invited on a date to a restaurant, arrange a romantic dinner for you. In any case you will spend time in some expensive luxurious place. Since this person is very responsible, they will try to do everything in the best possible way so that you are satisfied with this day. They are also very passionate, most often they express their love through touching, some gestures, so you can often feel their touch on your body, they can kiss you a lot, hold your hands, hug, fix your hair and all that sort of thing. I note that they will not keep eyes off you, they will look only at you and a loving look will be read in their eyes, they will look at you as if you are the most precious and valuable thing they have. Also this person is quite dominant and proactive so you can expect the first steps from him.

Pile 3: You will spend this day with a person who exudes the spirit of a confident successful person in everything, they can be good leaders and if they take part in any competitions, they will definitely achieve victories and prizes. They are also calm, I can say they are one of those who do not worry about nothing, do not like to think a lot about problems so they immediately solve these problems. The main thing in their life is stability, they can have a constant circle of friends, constant interests, constant work and constant income. Possibly they don't really like changes in their lives and don't like when something doesn't go according to plan. They can also work hard, immerse themselves in work or study because success is important to them in life and it is important to become a successful person. They are also very generous, always ready to help and support their loved ones. 

As for how you will spend this day with them: as I see it you can be at a great distance from each other here, and in this case you will spend time talking or making video calls. But there is also the option that you will go on travels together, on some kind of trip, and the whole day will be spent on the road. Here it will be difficult for a person to show their emotions and their attention to you, they may behave restrainly, shyly and distantly with you. Here rather you should take the first step and as soon as they see your interest, they will immediately respond in kind, will make compliments, give hints, talk about their feelings. They will be very careful to show their attention to you, they will not rush things, because it is important for them to enjoy the moment here and now, to get to know each other better.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤