#but im having trouble finding alternatives that Work

[itshomobirb]

no u don't understand those hard candies are integral to my mental health. they're load bearing.

[yeoubbi]

accommodations i’ve had approved as an autistic college student

helloooo today i finally had a meeting with the disability office and have accommodations after 2 years of being in college without them. im autistic and have cptsd/dissociative issues and had a hard time finding what was even available to me to request for accommodations so i wanted to make a list to help anyone else who might be having trouble.

• Priority registration

i get to register for classes earlier each term to make sure i can create schedules that’ll work for my routine

• Extended time on assignments

self explanatory i think? was also offered extended time on tests or a separate room to take them but testing isnt where i struggle

• Flexible attendance

as long as i email beforehand i dont have to stick as strictly to professors attendance policies

• Alternative formats

if i buy a physical textbook i can request the ebook/pdf/audiobook for free to have multiple methods of studying depending on what works for me on a given day

• Note taking

allowed to audio record class and send to a service called messenger pigeon who will give me a transcript of the class and professional notes based on it

• Access to lecture notes

able to access professors lecture notes prior to class/instruction

• Devices

allowed to have phone/ipad/laptop for social buffering and notes in classes that may have policies against electronics

• Flexible participation

no cold calling, option to work alone for group projects/assignments, not required to present in front of class

if anyone has any questions lmk these are just what i have been able to get at my school so far! hope it helps

edit: this is blowing up so fellow autistics, students, language nerds, etc pls be my mutual i want friends lol my dms are also open any time !!

[phantomantz]

some changes i would have made to the characters storylines in tua s4

disclaimer: i am no writer, it's just fun to think about the possibilities. btw anyone feel free to use any of these ideas for fics idc

lila doesn't cheat for starters. instead she and diego have both been secretly doing vigilante missions and keeping it from the other because they think they'll be mad. on one of these missions the two run into each other and rekindle their spark. basically the five and lila story but with diego and lila instead thanks. maybe one or both of them almost die or their kids are put in danger, and they decide to find a much less dangerous hobby, because while its thrilling in the moment they realize they wouldn't sacrifice their family for it

luther is shown to be much more depressed about sloanes absence (if there really is no way for her to come back) but he's trying to hold it together to be there for his family. would be nice if he bonded with characters like klaus, viktor or allison who have also lost their lovers. diego and lila shenanigans means they need luther to babysit a lot and luther finds happiness caring for his nieces and nephew. maybe he also finds a fulfilling job where he can meet a lot of people and help others.

five still finds the time subway but without lila. we get more time exploring the alternate timelines and seeing different ways the apocalypse has happened including ways the other sibs have ended the world. his PTSD and reliving his trauma is also explored. he eventually ends up in the five diner where he's told that they end the world every time but instead of excepting defeat and making everyone sacrifice themselves he finds another way (what exactly that is im not so sure) and becomes the first and only five to successfully prevent the apocalypse forever

allisons relationship with claire and ray are explored more heavily as well as everything she did in s3. i like the idea that she takes care of klaus because 1: hes the only sibling that will still talk to her and 2: because of the guilt she feels after getting him killed. i just wish her arc focused on something OTHER than saving klaus because thats basically all she did this season. would be nice if she spent more time with viktor and luther the two people she wronged most heavily in s3.

i would keep viktors confrontation with reggie but alternatively i would make this reginald umbrella reginald so it has much more weight to it. either that or have viktor express that even though he said his piece toward this reggie he will never actually get closure with their real father and nothing will remove the pain from his childhood. the rest i would keep pretty similar. reginald wants to kill ben and viktor wants to stop him at any cost. viktor knows what its like to be "the bomb" and doesn't want the same thing that happened to him to happen to ben. instead of working together to find ben however they're more in a race against eachother. maybe allison joins him and they make up on the way. i would have liked for ben and viktor to have had a heart to heart in the beginning of the season, maybe about how ben felt like a monster sometimes because of his powers, and viktor relating. idk how this would work with sparrow ben because he doesn't seem to hate his powers the same way brelly ben did but it would have been nice to show another reason why viktor is going through so much trouble to save him. and the ending where he trys to talk him down would be more impactful i think.

for klaus i would keep everything pretty much the same up until he runs into that quinn guy. instead i would have him travel to the subway with five in lilas place. five and klaus' powers are the most mind boggling out of the bunch not to mention time and death are inherently intertwined and this needed to be explored. also, you're telling me klaus literally has the power to talk to GOD and this never has any plot relevance???? klaus should have been involved in finding the solution to the apocalypse imo. also we needed klaus and ben interactions. idk how or when but it NEEDED to happen

ben and jennifer being the catalyst for the apocalypse is making it very hard for me to figure what to do with him tbh. i just wish he had more time with the other sibs and didn't turn into a horrific blob monster at the end 😭he felt less like a character this season and more like a plot device and he deserved to have some scenes that actually fleshed him out. it would have been cool if the reason he causes the apocalypse was actually because of his powers and not just because he happened to be the one to make skin contact with jennifer. i really thought that the twist was gonna be that the squid that jennifer was stuck in was the one that ben summons and that was why they were connected. not the fact that they both just had reactive magic particles in them that anyone could have set off. like what if jennifer being cut out of the squid was what killed ben?

OH! what if jennifer was an eldritch horror from the same dimension that bens tentacles are from and for some reason she wants to kill the brellys/end the world and because bens powers are linked to her she can control his mind ???? c'mon i feel like i've got something here

a have a couple of other ideas but don't know where they would fit in rn so yeah.

[crguang]

wasted with longing, part 2

You have never been so bothered in your life. Why? You refuse to admit it to yourself yet.

friends with benefits, afab!reader, gp!kafka, smut, mutual masturbation, facetime/video call sex, 6k words

A/N: after two whole months… we’re so back (im sorry). i giggled a lot writing this because the simple concept of fuckboy kafka is so ridiculous but i swear there’s a plot somewhere

part one part three

The bright light of your laptop screen starts to burn your retinas, and you blink quickly to chase away the fatigue building up under your eyelids. The words on the page stopped mattering over an hour ago yet you’re in no position to throw your work to the wind; you’ve already made it this far and this presentation is due in exactly 12 hours and 33 minutes. You’re at a stage where you blame everything and everyone that has ever contributed in leading you to where you sit against your bed’s headboard, lights dimmed low as your fingers brush over the keyboard in clicking sounds you’re deafened to. Your anxiety is the only thing keeping you awake, and if you cared about your job just a little less, you would have quit right then. You thought you’d left all-nighters in the past with boring college classes and tiny dorm rooms but life has an irritating way of repeating itself. 

You let out the hundredth sigh of the hour and take a moment to breathe in slowly through your nose, head tilted to the ceiling and eyes screwed shut, before exhaling loudly. You steel yourself for what you know is at least another hour of bullshitting statistics that you will do your best to present confidently this afternoon, but you can’t even pretend to like what you do anymore. Working in research has never been the most exciting career despite the occasional interesting discoveries you’ve been a part of. Still, you needed a job that would allow you to afford to live on your own in a city far away from your nagging parents and you were getting good at denying the fact that it is sucking the soul out of you. Your days are mundane, your routine unsatisfying, and you long for something more like most adults your age. You can’t quit until you find a better alternative that will pay you the same or more, so you bite back another exasperated groan and go back to your slides.

You wouldn’t be in this position eight days ago. You’ve had a week to come up with this presentation and instead of working on it like the diligent employee you usually are, most of your time was spent with your head in the clouds, preoccupied by someone who isn’t thinking about you. It makes you sick how bothered you are. It’s not like anything changed between the last time you talked and the one before that, and you were never as distracted by the lack of response as you have been this past week. You ignored your responsibilities, went out with friends four days in a row to convince yourself of your fake nonchalance just to find yourself in trouble that could have easily been avoided, anxious over the career you’ve worked so hard to earn.

Nothing good comes out of allowing that woman a bigger place in your thoughts than the three square feet corner she deserves, you know that. What frustrates you the most is that you don’t understand where this sudden concern for her lack of honesty comes from. Lies flow out of her like she was born with them on her lips; again, you know that. Then, what is the issue? Without identifying the root of the problem, you’re left a snowball of jumbled thoughts and insecurity steadily getting bigger as it nears the foot of the mountain until it inevitably crashes into a tree and falls apart completely. Why say things she doesn’t mean? Are you disposable? You hate her. Does she hate you? You should block her number. Why do you care? Screw her. 

…You wish you could.

Your laptop screen turns dark and snatches you back to reality. You got lost in thought again. You run a hand over your face, using two fingers to rub the inner corner of your eyes. You’re pathetic. Even now with this feeling of impending doom looming over you, your mind drifts to her and attempts to find reason behind her actions when there is likely none. Your work is important to you, she is not. Yet, you’re incapable of focusing on the PowerPoint in front of you. You start to wonder if you should lie down, rest your eyes for a few hours and finish the presentation when you wake up, right before you get ready to leave for the office. It would be cutting it extremely close, but you can’t think clearly anymore and the stress gets more paralyzing as the minutes go by. Another tired sigh escapes you. Maybe you simply need to relax a little, perhaps with some scalding tea. 

You push your laptop aside and stretch your body on the covers, arms over your head like a lazy cat. You’ll prepare a cup of tea to soothe your muscles then you’ll finish your work and go to bed. If you lie to yourself enough times, you believe you can make it. You straighten up and smooth down your hair. You’re about to stand up when a familiar ping! near you announces a new text message. You reach for your phone on your nightstand, thinking perhaps one of your friends got drunk again and needed a ride home, and tap the screen to open your notification center. 

You stare at the screen until it turns black, tap it so it lights up again and repeat the process a couple more times as your mind processes what your eyes are seeing and the implications behind it. You almost can’t believe the message you just got and have to click the notification to open up the private conversation; there, at 2:29 AM, Kafka sent you a video. You can’t make out much from the blurry cover, though the lighting seems low like it was filmed during the late evening. Your thumb hovers over it for a moment, wondering if she even meant to send that to you since she hasn’t texted or called since the last time you hooked up. In hindsight her behaviour is not so unusual, you thought you were used to her elusive ways but if the past week has taught you anything, it’s that you obviously expect something from her. Honesty, basic human decency— to not leave you feeling like a wet towel discarded in the laundry bin after she’s used it.

“…Fuck it.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you despite your self-pity at the prospect of always making yourself available for her no matter the time. It’s a coincidence, you tell yourself. The two of you have many of those. You press the play icon on the video and it expands to the full screen. The camera shakes a little, then steadies to show half of Kafka’s body from an inclined angle and part of her face, peach lips on display. She’s wearing a strapless dress, the kind only worn to impress, with a pearl necklace over her collarbone; it’s your first time seeing her in something other than casual clothes. You have to admit that you wish you could’ve seen the whole outfit, if only to… You don’t know. 

Kafka is sitting on a bed judging by the white sheets you can spot, and you blink several times at the unmistakable outline of her cock and hard nipples through the material of her dress. You watch in disbelief as she pulls the fabric up to her waist, revealing the garter belt around one of her thighs. Her hand slithers between her breasts and down her stomach to finally disappear under her clothes, but the way she begins stroking herself is purposely obvious. The head of her cock creates a tent meant to remind you of how big she is, and she pumps her shaft steadily, her lips parting slightly to let out low hums of pleasure. You stare, unmoving, unaware of your pulse’s quicker pace as Kafka jerks off on video, the erotic tone of her long moans filling your bedroom, and you don’t register turning up the volume a bit more. Her hand speeds up a touch, you think she must have already been hard before recording because she clearly won’t last much longer, but instead of rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you find yourself hoping she’ll take off that dress and give you a real show. Kafka’s breathing becomes heavier, her moans less controlled, and from this angle, you notice the movement of her hips eager to meet each stroke along her cock. Her thumb swipes over her sensitive tip and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth at the pleasant sensation. Not a single word is uttered, you can’t hear anything in the background either— not that you were listening for it— it’s just the sinful sounds of her throaty hums and her fingers around her dick. Half a minute passes before her breath hitches in a sharp gasp, and you know she’s going to come right before she does. Your thighs squeeze together at the breathy moan that spills from her mouth, her hand still gently stroking herself. Her lips stretch into that teasing smile you can picture with your eyes closed, and the video ends. 

You’re harshly pulled from the daze you were in, staring at your phone. You don’t know what to think, she ignores you for a week then sends you a video of her masturbating at two in the morning with nothing else attached. You can’t deny that it had the desired effect on you; your body feels hotter under your sleeping clothes and your thighs are still pressed together to ignore the throb between them, but once again you attempt to figure out the reasoning behind what she does and come up empty. There’s no use in trying to pry open a steel safe that is sealed shut, so why do you try over and over like you have nothing better to do? Why show up with blowtorches and lock picks when your presence is unwanted inside?

Kafka uses you for pleasure, and you use her the same. That is the nature of your relationship. So, you decide to take that video at face value and press replay. Leaning back against the headboard, you bite your cheek as Kafka’s hand travels up and down her veiled cock while your own restlessly traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. It wanders up your body to cup one breast under your shirt, thumb softly circling a stiffening nipple. You pinch it between two fingers at the same time Kafka lets out a pretty moan and you feel arousal dampening your underwear at the various stimuli. The video ends before you can move on to your thighs and you have to replay it again, and again, to properly build up your orgasm before you’re needy enough to slip a hand under your sticky panties. Your middle finger applies pressure on your puffy clit in tight little circles, jolts of pleasure shooting through you and tightening your stomach.

Eyes half-lidded, you forget all about your work to prioritize the need in your cunt, unconsciously matching Kafka’s pace and wishing she was there to take care of you the way only she knows how. Your hips move with the fingers that rub between your wet folds in a messy pattern. You breathe in sharply through your mouth when one of them finds your clit again and firmly toys with it. You’re so aroused, so wet and needy, but watching Kafka’s playful performance through a phone screen with only half of her body shown and her cock hidden from sight isn’t enough. Desperation builds within your lower belly as you inch a finger past your entrance, barely biting back a breathy moan at the feeling. It sinks in effortlessly, so you add another after adjusting to the slight stretch of it rubbing your inner walls. Your other hand holds the phone closer to your face like that will make Kafka seem more tangible. You pump two digits into your pussy, coating them in your arousal, and it feels so good, has your thighs spreading further apart, but it’s not enough. 

A frustrated sigh leaves you. You don’t think before exiting the video and pressing the video call button. The line rings once, twice, and your fingers slip out of you as you wait to see if it’ll connect. After a few more seconds, you choose to save face and go to hang up just as it connects with the other line and Kafka’s smirking face comes into view. You blame the stutter of your chest on your arousal. She blows smoke through her mouth and faces away from the camera for a moment to put out the cigarette you caught her smoking. She’s in casual clothes once again, and by the lighting, you infer that it’s likely afternoon wherever she is. That video she sent must have been filmed earlier than the time it was received, it might also be an older one from before you met. You mistake your disappointment for annoyance. 

“What is wrong with you?” Your stern voice has a shaky edge to it that Kafka definitely notices. Her smile widens an inch. 

“You look a little… flushed. Saw something you like?”

“Fuck you. It’s almost three in the morning.”

“Is that how late it is there? Mmm, it slipped my mind.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that,” you put down the phone for an instant, pulling your pyjamas down your legs to toss them onto the bed. You bring the device back up and recline on the pillows, holding it high enough for Kafka to have a view of your torso and the stiff nipples poking through your half-ridden shirt. 

Kafka’s lowered gaze unapologetically trails down your upper body. You cup your breast, softly kneading the soft mound between your fingers, and watch her eyes darken with desire.

“I can’t come over.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to. Just need to hear you.”

“Cute. What if I’m not alone?” Her tone is teasing but she does look up from the screen as if someone could walk by and catch you touching yourself. 

“Figure it out.”

“Bossy… And so aroused, aren’t you? From a simple video, no less.”

You let the confident drawl of her words wash over you, ignoring her attempts at riling you up further to focus on the familiar pitch of her voice. It’s rough, intentionally slowed to keep people’s attention solely on what she has to say and control the pace of the conversation, dripping like syrup. You relax into the mattress and let your hand wander down the valley of your breasts, caressing the curves of your stomach. You’re already turned on and aching for release, each brush of your fingertips against your skin requires restraint not to slip a hand between your thighs and circle your clit. Your little show seems to give Kafka a taste of her own medicine, she observes you for a while, her gaze piercing through the veil of lust over her irises. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“I would if you talked me through it,” you reply, expectant, lips parting as your hand teasingly disappears below the camera to massage the flesh of your inner thigh. 

Kafka hums, amused and intrigued. You’re sure she can tell how worked up you are and is debating helping you or leaving you wanting. Then she moves, the camera following her every step, and walks somewhere you hope is a secluded room. You don’t recognize her surroundings, she seems to be inside a building but the phone is too close to her face to show anything else properly.

“Did I wake you?” She asks on the way, barely looking away from the screen to watch where she’s going and instead focusing on how your hand travels back up your abdomen, lifting your shirt and revealing more of your chest as it goes. 

“No, but it was a welcomed distraction. Walk faster.”

Kafka laughs at your impatience, the sound lighter than her usual arrogant or mocking chuckles and betraying her genuine amusement. There’s a fluttering sensation behind the walls of your heart like the wings of a panicked bird. 

“Why? You in a hurry?”

“Yes.”

Kafka enters a room drowning in sunlight, brighter than wherever she was before. You hear the sound of the door closing, then a lock turning before she walks further into the room to sit at what you presume is a desk. The phone is placed far enough from her frame to allow you a full view of her upper body over the wooden surface and the twin-sized bed behind her. The covers are unruffled, the walls barren and white, and you think she might be in a simple hotel room. She leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting her cheek against the back of her hand. The index finger of her free hand absentmindedly taps the desk’s surface, mirroring her steady heartbeat. She gazes at you like you’re the most interesting sight she’s seen in days. 

“You look so needy… desperate for my touch.” Kafka drinks in the image of you sprawled on your bed, the lower half of your left breast exposed to her hungry eyes. Her mind conjures up many ways she would touch you if she were there, feeling your stumbling breaths in the crook of her neck. “What’s the matter? Can’t come without me anymore?”

Irritation swirls in your gut, mixing with the arousal pooling in your belly at her nonchalant arrogance. Her self-assurance infuriates you mostly because it’s not entirely unfounded; you do wish she was present in person to fuck your worries away but she could be on the other side of the planet for all you know, doing Aeons know what. You don’t have a retort, and you’re in no mood to be teased any more than you felt watching that short video of Kafka stroking herself. 

“It goes faster this way,” you lie.

“Mmm… Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not there.”

Her words make your pussy throb. You bite your lip, adjusting your hold on the phone and lowering the camera so she can’t see past your mouth but has a better view of your body. From this angle, the waistband of your underwear is visible just under your stomach. Your fingers dig into your pliable breast, kneading the mound like she usually does to you, occasionally toying with the nipple for the pleasant sensation that ripples through you and causes your thighs to twitch. Kafka’s intense gaze, deeply pleased at your immediate compliance, excites you like nothing else. You know she’s not as unaffected by the sight as she seems to be, her finger drums on the desk a tad faster when you twist your nipple and part your lips to exhale audibly. Your hand leaves your chest and you lower your phone further to follow its path across your torso until it reaches the band of your already slick panties. You sneak a finger under the thin material and Kafka speaks up again.

“Take them off. Let me see you.”

Hesitation takes hold of you for a second, and then you obey her sultry command, shifting to pull the underwear past your hips and down to your ankles. You angle the phone to provide her with a clear view of your wet cunt, breath hitching as Kafka unconsciously wets her lips and the drumming noise stops completely. She’s a statue of desire on the other side of the screen, her heavy stare locked on your fingers spreading your lower lips apart, puffy clit on display. You don’t wait for any other instructions, your need is too great to go unchecked a minute longer; you use your index to circle the bud in quick, desperate motions. Your body’s temperature rises a few degrees and a short, involuntary moan spills past your lips. Your eyes are tempted to close under such stimulation but you want to see Kafka’s every microexpression, every twitch of her mouth and fall of her chest, the flex of her hand against her cheek and the movement of her irises following your ministrations.

“Are you picturing me? My hands on your body, touching you just how you like it?”

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth to seal another soft moan. “Yeah…” 

Kafka’s fingers are skilled and precise, stimulating the most sensitive parts of you, some of which didn’t exist before she touched you. She’s learned you by heart as one does a music sheet and makes you sing in a way impossible to replicate alone, an artist missing their accompaniment. You imagine her palms brushing across your chest, teasingly squeezing one breast while her lips ghost over the skin of your jaw, trailing wet kisses up to your cheek. You imagine her slender fingers sinking into your inner thighs to keep them spread before her, drinking in the erotic sight you create under her. You swipe at your clit, each breath heavier than the one before, and observe her body language; how she uncrosses her legs and her hand on the desk disappears beneath the surface, how she tucks away a stray strand of hair so it doesn’t obstruct her vision, the apparent lust in her eyes almost turning their color a shade closer to magenta. Her attention feels like the many cocktails you drank this last week, smoldering down your throat and intoxicating your every nerve. It tightens your lower belly and makes you throb, entrance gushing even when she’s likely thousands of miles away. Your orgasm builds and builds, pleasure steadily mounting and promising salvation the closer you get to the edge. 

If her camera was positioned better, you would have seen her pointer and middle fingers drawing circles on her thighs not unlike how you’re stimulating your aching clit, slowly inching higher until they softly stroke the prominent swell over her shorts. You would have been privy to them slipping under her clothes, past her boxers, to caress along her cock from tip to base and draw a sharp intake of breath from her. You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice her next swallow as she wraps a hand around herself and masturbates in tandem with your heavy exhales. Just as you did, she pictures your wandering hands, your warm tongue licking broad stripes up her cock and the quiver of your brow when you struggle to take her into your mouth. You look up at her prettily through wet eyelashes, eager to please, and you suck her dry as she paints your throat white. 

Your camera trembles, you struggle to keep it still while you work to make yourself come, digits stuttering on your clit with quiet moans on the tip of your tongue. You’re so close that you barely compute what Kafka is saying.

“You look about ready to come. Are you going to come just from the sight of me?”

She sounds way too pleased for your liking but you can’t bother to care at this moment, all that matters is your impending release. You nod quickly.

“Yeah? Let me hear you.”

“Fuck…” you manage to breathe out, hips desperately bucking into your hand, chasing relief from the pressure building in your belly. 

You don’t contain your pitiful sounds of pleasure at Kafka’s request and a soft cry rips from your throat as you finally burst. You come hard, thighs closing together and trapping your hand between them, jolts of pleasure running down your body like a thousand little shivers until you’re a shaking mess on the bed. Eyes screwed shut with the intensity of your orgasm, you miss Kafka’s parted lips and unyielding stare roaming over your arching form, her thumb applying mind-dizzying pressure on her leaking tip under her shorts to tease herself. You take a minute to calm yourself, she takes in the movement of your breasts rising and falling with your chest, imagining wetting them with her tongue so they glitter stunningly in the light when she pulls away. She strokes herself faster and the sound of her satisfied hum helps you realize what she’s doing.

“Hah… This is what you wanted, huh?” You bring your phone higher, circling your areola with two cum-coated fingertips and relishing in the way her eyelids droop. “Sending me that little video to tease me so I’d call and help you jerk off?” 

Kafka’s low chuckle turns into a pleased sigh at the end as she touches herself just right, smearing pre-cum all over her throbbing cock. 

“I wanna see.”

She picks up the camera and angles it so you have a view of her cock straining against her clothes. The silk of her glove is heaven along her skin, and with the microphone closer to her face you can hear the shallow breaths she releases on her journey to relief. No doubt the friction is dulling her mind, reducing her to her urgent need to come. Your tongue flicks over your upper lip and Kafka almost groans, still watching you intently like she’s making up scenarios of you on your knees with your head bobbing up and down her thick cock. The next time she takes you is already planned out in detail, you’ll be so utterly ruined that you won’t be able to beg her for more.

“I’d get you there quicker if you were here.”

“Mmh… Soon.”

You refrain from rolling her eyes at her obvious lie. Spoken words out of her lips mean nothing, especially with pleasure fogging her mind. Kafka’s following sharp gasp lets you know she’s close to falling apart; you lift your sticky fingers to your mouth, making a show of licking them clean how you would her shaft, and this time she doesn’t suppress the throaty, blissful noise that was sitting on her tongue. She sears your performance in the back of her eyelids and pumps her cock with purpose, orgasm imminent. Her hips jerk upward as her release crashes into her in toe-curling waves of pleasure, hand stuttering around her length and cum staining her underwear and glove. She moans unashamedly, knowing what it does to you, and her eyes flutter shut only for the instant it takes to compose herself afterwards. Her hand leaves her shorts, she brings her wet fingers to the light and smiles up at you. 

“Thanks.” Without any underlying cockiness, there’s nothing but appreciation when she addresses you. 

You don’t meet her gaze, averting your eyes while you sit up and smooth down your hair. Now that the tension in your muscles has dissipated, you’re reminded of why you were up this late in the first place and the work that still needs to be completed before work some hours later. You sigh tiredly, but your mind is clearer and you feel a spike of energy to finish your presentation, invigorated from your previous orgasm. Maybe you should be the one thanking her.

“What’s wrong?” 

You look back at Kafka. “I hate my job.”

“You should quit, then.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?”

“…And do what?” You ask flatly.

“Whatever you want.”

You stare at her momentarily, wondering what kind of reality she must live in where everything is available for the taking. Your studies were largely influenced by the constant pressure your parents put on you to get a sustainable income, and you were too preoccupied with your grades to ponder the what-ifs. They sacrificed quite a bit to have you enroll in one of the Intelligentsia Guild’s schools, your academic success was the least you could do to settle that debt somehow. You don’t care for mechanics but it was a relatively easy subject to study, so you picked it. You’re good at what you do, despite this job not being what you dreamed of doing for the rest of your life. Now, you’re not sure if you even have dreams. You have some skills, sure, but what do you want?

Kafka’s looking at you like she’s figuring you out. You don’t know what she aims to find but a childish part of you hope she likes it. You shake your head as if the thoughts would evaporate with the movement and stand from the bed.

“I should finish my work,” you say on the way to the bathroom, flicking the light open. 

“I need to go too.” Kafka pauses, seemingly considering something, then continues, “Do you have plans on Thursday?”

The question is unexpected, it takes you a few seconds to come up with an answer. “Apart from work, I don’t think so. Why?”

“You should stay home. Skip work.”

“Why would I do that…?”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” The reply leaves you before you can think about it, but it’s the truth. Kafka has never given you any reason to trust her up till now, you don’t even believe half of the things she says. Trusting her for anything would be incredibly foolish.

Her eyes narrow a bit, though that small smile stays on her lips. Your confusion must show on your face, and you have the impression that her demeanor has gotten more serious. 

“Trust me now. I have to leave, but I hope you take my advice. If not… Well, I’ll see you soon.”

“Wh—?”

The video call disconnects. Did she just hang up on you?!

After a quick shower and a change of sheets, you end up completing your assignment in around 40 minutes and getting a few hours of sleep before you have to leave for work. The day is long, and your anxiety intensifies with each passing hour but you present your project idea with little to no problem. The rest of the week passes quickly with no further messages from Kafka, but you stop expecting her to hit you up for anything other than sex so you get better at hiding your disappointment, enough that you’re able to focus on your job like the development of the past two weeks never happened. On Thursday, you wake up for work and sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone open on the private conversation between you and Kafka, debating with yourself whether you should ask her to clarify her last words to you. You try to recall her expression when she said them. Reading her is hard, her behavior is too well-rehearsed to be peeled to pieces by anybody— and you guess that is what you are; anybody. You feel like an idiot as you dial your office to call off work. 

With nowhere to go, you spend the day at home watching shitty TV until the sky begins its descent in the sky, catching up on shows you previously had no time for. You do go out for groceries in the afternoon to cook something nice for yourself once dinner comes around, but your day is mostly boring and uneventful. You’re lying on the couch, half-lidded eyes barely focusing on the bright TV screen as it plays the same sitcom you’ve been watching for almost two hours when your phone rings. The noise wakes you, you blink rapidly and reach for the device, accepting the call without looking at the contact ID. 

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Himeko’s musical voice sounds from the other line. 

“Hime?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

You rub your eyes with a hand and sit up to pause your show. “No, not really. How’s trailblazing going?”

“It was kinda tough the last few weeks but nothing we couldn’t handle. What about you? Last time we talked you were pretty busy too.”

“I’m good, work has been a bit demanding lately because of this secret project thing I can’t really talk about, but nothing eventful has happened, except…” You cut yourself off. 

“What is it?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Oh? Now I definitely want to know. Let me guess… It’s that lady again.”

“Lady?” You repeat with a laugh, “There is nothing ladylike about the way she f—”

“Ew. I get it.” You hear shuffling on the other side, like Himeko is walking from one place to another. “You were complaining about her last time, what happened now?”

“More complaints.”

“I can’t understand why you won’t end things if all you’re going to do is get annoyed every time you see each other. Learn to walk away from unnecessary grievances, they only pollute your thoughts.”

You stand from the couch and walk towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out the stuff you’ll need for dinner. “The sex is really good. Like, great. Like, mind-blowing. Toe-curling, even.” You can almost hear Himeko’s eye roll. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I don’t know why she has to be so infuriating. It’s obviously a case of big ego, but there’s something more in there. She just won’t let me see it.”

“You’re practically strangers. No wonder.”

“She’s been inside me. I wouldn’t call us strangers.”

“Do you know anything about her apart from her name?”

You pause with one hand around a carton of heavy cream. A door slides shut on the phone. You don’t have to think long to know the answer to that question, but you’re a little ashamed of it. Ashamed and disappointed, because it’s not by lack of trying; Kafka treats every attempt at getting to know her beyond the bounds of your relationship like a battlefield where she has to lie to survive. There’s a constant distance between you no matter how physically close she gets and it’s beginning to drive you mad. It was hot at first, the air of mystery around her is what drew you to her in that clothing store. Months later, it’s simply an obstacle you can’t jump over.

“Fine,” you reply with a sigh, closing the fridge and putting the carton on the counter, “you have a point. But it’s not like I haven’t tried, she just…”

“Doesn’t value you for anything other than sex?”

You don’t respond, mouth curving in a frown. That hurt your feelings, even though you know Himeko is only being honest because she hates this situation for you. She disapproved from the start, said you weren’t the type to have no strings attached, and she was right. You didn’t listen; Kafka is a splash of excitement in an otherwise pretty boring life, unraveling her takes skill and effort, and it is much more gratifying than a research well done. However… perhaps it’s time you do.

“Was that too far?” Himeko asks, voice soft. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than someone who brushes you off constantly unless they want something from you.”

“I know…” 

There’s a sudden knock at your door and you furrow your brows as you look at the time on your phone. You’re not expecting anyone and you’re not a fan of people showing up unannounced in general, still, you start making your way out of the kitchen to the front door. 

“We had an agreement, though,” you continue, “so it’s not like she owes me anything. I’m the one asking for too much.”

“You want to make connections with people and that is a beautiful thing. If she can’t see that, then she isn’t worth your time.”

You reach the front door, unlock it and turn the handle. “You’re probably r—”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue. In the hallway of your apartment building stands a panting Kafka, coat in one hand while the other is pressed hard against her bloodstained shoulder. Her white shirt is tainted with the seeping liquid which turns her glove a deep violet color, blood spatter over her torso and some spread onto her cheek as if she attempted to wipe it off. She’s hunched forward instead of her usual straight posture and the sunglasses over her tussled hair are cracked. You’re frozen where you are, a dozen thoughts buzz inside your head like restless bees and keep you from uttering a word; dread, worry, confusion, you can’t name them all. You have trouble computing what you’re looking at. Kafka looks up at you with the small smile she wears like armor. Even now, her nonchalance annoys you.

“Hey.”

The sound of Himeko calling your name over the phone and asking you if everything’s alright shakes you from your stupor. Your movements are slow, delayed, as you turn your head towards the device close to your ear and speak, “I’ll call you back.”

You hang up without hearing the response. 

[mandowifey]

What kind of father figure behaviours would Miguel have?? I’m thinking protective af

Oh boy oh boy oh boy BUCKLE UP.

Father!Miguel O'Hara Headcannons

Warnings: ANGST, SO MUCH ANGST, Mentions of child loss, death, violence, this is canon Miguel, reader can give birth but is not gendered. Mentions of trauma, depression, bad brain times. He's a broken man, yknow?

× × ×

First and foremost, Miguel is scared.

This is a man who had lost it all twice. He had watched his child die. He had lapsed so terribly into himself that he was able to rationalize stepping into another man's life and pretending to be him. He isn't right minded, he's broken and hurting.

All that self blame and doubt chokes him sometimes.

He hurts, constantly.

When you tell him you're pregnant, everything goes still. Fatherhood is something that had always been just outside of his grasp, and now it was here right in front of him. He doesn't fill with light, or smile and laugh, but he does look at you like he's seeing a ghost. There is fear in his eyes, not of you or the baby, but himself.

Because what if he fucks this up again?

Miguel can not stand the idea of opening himself to that pain. He already shoulders that guilt every day, rewatching videos of himself with his daughter. Can he even find room in his heart for another child? He almost feels like it is a betrayal, that he was never a good man to begin with if he were so willing to move on.

When your face drops and your eyes brim with tears, he pulls out of it.

One of Miguel's best abilities is being strong for others. He can be what you need right now, and he will.

Cue the absolute nightmare of expecting his child.

Aside from you being sick, Miguel worries, constantly.

The man can hardly focus on his work. He always asks one of the doctors to go check on you or have you in contact with him. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean the multiverse loses its importance. But god is he distracted.

"Have you been eating enough?"

"Taking your vitamins?"

"How much water have you had?"

It'd be cute if you didn't know better.

You know how much he has lost and you know that he is petrified of losing you both too. Not to mention you are certain he feels undeserving of another chance, especially after destroying an innocent alternate universe.

The way he looks at you tells you everything; he thinks you are made of glass. Something fragile that could break any moment. While you try to assure him that isn't the case, he still worries.

Once you start showing, it's over.

He is constantly caressing your stomach, holding you close, breathing you in. He thinks you smell so good pregnant. Miguel loves to feel your belly, cooing to you about how good you look carrying his child. You don't doubt for a second he loves you.

Miguel is protective, most assuredly. When you want to go walking around the base or go grab snacks he is on you like a shadow. Always watching, always protecting. He makes sure the other spider folk don't bump you, and offers to carry you when you mention your feet swelling.

God, he'd love to feed you. Checking on you constantly if you're hungry, offering to run and grab any cravings you ask for.

When you get further along, he likes to talk to the baby. Speaking in Spanish occasionally but mostly asking if they are giving you trouble.

"They are gonna have my attitude, I know it."

Oh boy, when the baby comes?

Ohhhh boy.

First off it is a way bigger deal than it has to be.

That man would be in the middle of a job and get a ring on his watch.

"JESS, I GOTTA GO."

And she looks at him in time to watch him clawing back into a portal.

Him running full speed, throwing himself against walls and scratching down them to get to your room faster.

His mask withdrawing to show messy hair and wide brown eyes, coming to your side and taking your hand.

"I'm here, Im here." As he kisses into your damp hair.

You get to surprise him, twice.

He didn't know the sex, and didn't know you were having two.

When he see's his daughters for the first time, his eyes leak. The smile on his face stretches miles, his arms open as he cradles them into him. Oh he'd be melting.

You'd never seen him cry, but that day he does.

He's so proud of you, telling you how well you did and how much he loves you.

"Okay Miguel, gotta let me hold one." You laugh.

He's inseparable from you. Looking at those babies with such love and surprise, unable to believe that he was a father, again.

When you fall asleep with the girls tucked in your arms, he stays up and pets your hair.

And he promises himself that this time it will be different.

Your babies would be HELLA protected.

Good god, he is like a hawk with those girls.

Always watching, always making sure they were safe. He'd have eyes on them constantly.

Miguel is a good man at heart, and now he wants to make things right. He'd dedicate as much time to your family as possible, asking Jessica to stand in for him as often as possible (until she herself has her child).

He'd want to teach them to be like him. One of your daughters can stick to walls, and the other has tiny claws like he does. You enjoy lounging on the couch while he climbs the walls with the girls giggling after him.

Your family is beautiful, blissful. He protects all three of you.

And while sometimes you have to hold him at night and assure him that its okay to move on, he knows he's doing his best. He wraps you in his arms and looks at the baby monitor screen, watching the girls sleep. He begins to doze as you pet his hair, assuring him they were just fine.

Miguel would fall asleep against you, head tucked in your neck and strong arms locked around you.

And he would believe it was okay to forgive himself.

[celaenaeiln]

i mean this in the most neutral tone, but, im genuinely confused with this eldest daughter syndrome dick thing? as far as i know, he never lives in the manor with other batsiblings and personally take care of them except damian, and just "yeets" from any possible trouble or tension within the siblings or when they have issues with bruce

No worries I totally get it! And I'm here to deliver!

First, to be fair to Dick, no one lives in the manor aside from Damian and sometimes Tim.

Dick lives in Bludhaven, Steph lives in Gotham U? She's been in and out of comics but otherwise her own house. Cass lives in Leslie's clinic, Tim alternates between the Titans and the manor, Jason lives anywhere that doesn't have Bruce, and Duke lives with his uncle.

However that doesn't mean they don't all rely on him.

I think the confusion comes from scenes like this-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10

Where it seems like Dick just left Tim to deal with Bruce on his own. But-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10

Dick called him. When Tim when to him for advice, he gave him advice but also knew it couldn't just stop there. So he called Bruce to get it through his thick head that he's allowed to be happy. If there's anyone that can change Bruce's mind on anything it's Dick.

Which brings me to my next instance of Dick acting as the mediator and emotional burden lifter of his family. When each batkid dies (or almost dies in Dick's case), Bruce grieves in a different way. With Jason he took it out on criminals, with Tim he took it out on himself, with Dick he took it out on criminals and heroes, and with Damian, he wanted to undo what happened. He torments Jason about it, goes too hard on the criminals, gets worsened by Barbara, gets helped a little by Selina but also feels a billion times worse about Damian's death so-

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

He locks himself in a simulator for days trying to see and fix where he went from when Heretic killed Damian. Nothing gets through to him so Alfred pulls out the Big Guns - he calls in Dick.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

"Richard just came in from Chicago to--"

"Talk some sense into me?"

"Yes, I've implored you to shut this...thing off and join the living, but you have turned a deaf ear for days."

"This calling in the cavalry routine is getting old, Alfred."

Since the dawn of Batman and Robin, Dick has always acted as the mediator for Bruce and the family. Always.

With Dick's help, finally, after days, Damian's saved.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

And Dick finally brings Bruce back to life.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

He took a destructive, dead-man-walking and breathed life and hope back into him to stop him from taking his grief and anger out on his family and criminals.

Also-

LOOK AT THE WAY THEY'RE SEATED. DICK IS LITERALLY BRUCE'S THERAPIST.

Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #23

Calling in the cavalry always works.

Of course there's times when Dick doesn't help mediate. But the issue is not that he doesn't want to or he pushes it off, it's that he can't. What the hell are you supposed to do when the mediator who mediates all your problems is themself broken?

Dick really wants to help Tim but he can't. He can't find it in himself to barely live right now because Donna-his platonic soulmate-is dead.

Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files

He really can't.

Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files

She was his sister too. Pretty much blood.

I actually think the fact that Dick doesn't live in the manor makes the fact that he still takes care of all his siblings and their problems with Bruce even more important. To calm and rationalize down Bruce and take care of his siblings, he's constantly flying or driving back and forth between different cities, dropping his cases and work, ignoring his problems, just to be there for them.

For another example, when Dick hears that the newest Batman is causing problems in Gotham and Bruce just abandoned Tim to deal with everything and Tim nearly got hurt, he comes all the way back to Gotham to rail Bruce out for doing that to him.

Robin (1993) Issue #8

When Bruce teams with Damian their relationship so tumultuous but once again Dick steps in.

Batman: The Return

"I need a partner who can stay focused and keep up."

"Bruce, come on! I made a career out of not doing anything I was told when I was Robin. He gave up everything for this. You can't just take it away...you can't cut him out."

He keeps Robin from being fired and continues being Damian's support system.

It's not just mediating though, Dick fully steps in to take care of the batfamily whenever Bruce absconds or there's trouble.

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #24

He's like the command center of the family.

This picture just embodies his role.

Batman (2011) Issue #15

And as Bruce once said-

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #22

He's really the eldest daughter and caretaker.

[crystallizsch]

Trouble? You're only in trouble if you get caught. So don't let me catch you ~

uhhhhh say hi to jamil and yuusha's kid jas(mine) pt 2 (also here and here are like my only two other posts of her)

HFDDF OKAY SO - i actually had these unfinished sketches from months ago of jas as a nrc student and scarabia housewarden

this sneaky little bastard (affectionate) had never left my cranium she was just sitting idly by

im sobbing i hate jas so much (lie i love her)

jamil and yuusha still aren't supposed to have a kid so i just imagine this to be an alternate timeline for them 🤧🤧🤧

soooo info dump time ---

━━━━━━✦ scarabia housewarden nrc jas

jas has a vice-housewarden who is her childhood best friend (figuring out if i want them to be twst rajah or abu)

also thinking about if i want yuusha to be a staff member in nrc with grim or just dead during this time (why? just because)

no further info tbh, scarabia housewarden jas is just vibing

━━━━━━✦ child jas stuffs

i'm SO indecisive about her design as a toddler/preteen lowkey 😭

she was very sweet as a toddler but somewhere along the line she just became more carefree and chaotic

jas is a mama's girl but is more alike with her father than she cares to admit

octavinelle trio and heartslabyul duo + grim are like the honorary uncles (jas's favorites are floyd, ace, and grim bc they sometimes enable her with shenanigans)

even though jas has favorite uncles, najma is the favorite favorite. i imagine she's just the cool aunt

if mama yuu is "shrimpy" then jas is a "tiger prawn" (bc rajah)

jas LOVES doing people's hair including her own; would rather do them by hand rather than by magic

jamil showed jas how to breakdance once and it became ingrained in her personality ever since

(there's probably still more about her that i'm forgetting but this is it for now)

━━━━━━✦ bonus future jamiyuu stuff because i miss them

jamil took yuusha's last name surprise surprise (if they get married)

i imagine after nrc they'd be travelling together actually, not necessarily settling down

(i'm REALLY not 100% on them settling down and having a kid but i still love jas a lot so im so conflicted) (that's why aus exist 😔✨)

(and if hypothetically they do settle down i think yuusha being staff in nrc with grim + maybe jamil who travels for work (or being a house husband??? maybe they alternate roles) can be adorable ideas)

━━━━━━✦ (i also had this thing that i never posted about that one trope of a fankid finding themselves in nrc bc of portal/time/mirror shenanigans)

(jamil found both of them asleep somewhere and refuses to wake them up)

also some bonus tidbits about this scenario with them:

💜: Is she a family member of yours? How'd she get here?

🐍: I have never seen that child in my life before now. And there's no way I could have missed news about a new relative of mine.

💜: You know how ridiculous it sounds if she's related to me. I'm not from here. She even looks more like you!

🐍: Jas has the same color of eyes as you. Didn't you tell me she mistook you for her mother?

💜: ...Yeah, but I don't like what you're implying.

🐍: Well, I'm not exactly happy with this either.

they're just both in denial of the implication of this child existing and neither of them is saying it out loud.

and the angst/wholesomeness(???) of jamil asking jas's full name and hearing that she has her mother's last name instead of his

eventually they grew attached (unfortunately) until somehow they send jas home to her original timeline

and then they finally have a real conversation about what all that was about

anyways thank you for reading if you've made it this far;;; end tweet

[rochenn]

Literally ALL of your wips sound completely fascinating but im particularly interested in your rebellion codywan 👀

REBELLION CODYWAN!! This is such a fun trope and I really want to put my own spin on it :D I find the Tatooine setting to be very limiting in regards to what you can do, so imagine it's roundabout five years post-O66 and Tatooine becomes compromised. Fuel reserves have been detected under the surface, which of course the Empire plans to extract, and hence Obi-Wan + the Lars family are evacuated via Bail Organa who caught wind of the upcoming trouble. Coincidentally, this is also the time Cody finds himself joining the cause.

The Rebellion is still a flimsy baby thing at this point. Kinda just a loose web of agents and safe houses and cells that sorta have the same goal but also hate each other. Obi-Wan and Cody end up in the same safe house while Obi-Wan tries to figure out where to send the Lars family next. I think an alternative title to this fic could be "what if you and your long-lost comrade meet again but you're also in a spy thriller", because Codywan works best for me when they're both under enormous amounts of stress :D

I'm still deciding who to involve. An earlier version of the networks seen in Andor is very tempting, especially if you bring them into contact with Bail's network (which contains Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and the like). I think many people would like to recruit Obi-Wan to do anything besides guarding Luke. Many people would also like to recruit Cody.

Lots of stuff happening. Lots of tension. Lots of things to clear up and to navigate. Once again my idea of a simple romance fic has grown a plot thicker than the Earth's crust

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/10/2024

someone adopt this little orange man from me in Houston TX! more details here!

listening

the 1991 Ella Mae Morse compilation Capitol Collectors Series is the official driving-cats-to-the-vet album bc it is so mellow but still fun. this album has previously been featured several times in tuesdayposts but i think you should all listen to it again.

seven thousand three hundred days IS a long long time to sleep ur so right ella

-

reading

two different works that annoyed me: Emily Hamilton's The Stars Too Fondly. my first clue should have been that this is my least favorite poem, bc ppl would quote it to me smugly after my mom died. im sure they thought they were being so super comforting to a budding astronomer, but, much like how i can no longer eat lasagna bc ppl gave us Twenty! Party! Size! Platters! Of! Lasagna! after my mom died (they would just Appear on our front porch, frozen), too much of this poem really soured me.

i had this book on hold Forever and then delayed delivery twice bc i have not felt like reading lately. here's the publisher's description:

In her breathtaking debut—part space odyssey, part sapphic rom-com—Emily Hamilton weaves a suspenseful, charming, and irresistibly joyous tale of fierce friendship, improbable love, and wonder as vast as the universe itself. So, here’s the thing: Cleo and her friends really, truly didn’t mean to steal this spaceship. They just wanted to know why, twenty years ago, the entire Providence crew vanished without a trace. But then the stupid dark matter engine started all on its own, and now these four twenty-somethings are en route to Proxima Centauri, unable to turn around, and being harangued by a snarky hologram that has the face and attitude of the ship’s missing captain, Billie. Cleo has dreamt of being an astronaut all her life, and Earth is kind of a lost cause at this point, so this should be one of those blessings in disguise that people talk about. But as the ship gets deeper into space, the laws of physics start twisting, old mysteries come crawling back to life, and Cleo’s initially combative relationship with Billie turns into something deeper and more desperate than either woman was prepared for. Lying somewhere in the subspace between science fantasy and sapphic rom-com, The Stars Too Fondly is a soaring near-future adventure about dark matter and alternate dimensions, leaving home and finding family, and the galaxy-saving power of letting yourself love and be loved.

should be catnip for me, right? wrong. starts out as a chat fic, which i hate.

i had a lot of trouble finishing the first chapter, which also has an extended third-person omniscient narrator flashback in italics, a thing i also hate. i KNOW you can figure out how to integrate this information into the book in a better way instead of dumping it in my lap.

i think part of why this is not hitting like i wanted is the tone, because i think this veers more new adult than i was really hoping for. i think introducing a big group all at once is very hard to do effectively. i do not like a series of character introductions that feel like they are trying to sell me action figures. or perhaps blind-bag figures. i do not like a six-deep list of cheesy puns about someone's name. i do not have the patience to see if this debut novel finds its footing a little later on, though i am glad a sapphic ghost in the machine romance exists in this world.

i also read dean motter's mister x (both the original late eighties through early nineties run and the 2008 follow-on).

let's yoink the description from wikipedia:

Set in Radiant City, a dystopian municipality influenced by Bauhaus and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, the series concerns a mysterious figure who purports to be its architect. His radical theories of "psychetecture" cause the citizenry to go mad, just as he did, and he takes on the mission to repair his creation. To accomplish this he remains awake twenty-four hours a day by means of the drug "insomnalin", all the while coping with a Dick Tracy–like rogues gallery and supporting cast including his long-suffering ex-girlfriend Mercedes. (ed note: the redhead in the santa beard below)

the art in this comic book is really and truly stunning. everyone was firing on all cylinders. beautiful retrofuturistic advertisement vibes, very fun play with panels and word balloons while still being readable, there are airships, you know how it is. looooooooove a hardboiled noir.

the Concept of mister x, this horrible awful futuristic city that grinds its citizenry up and spits them out? both figuratively and sometimes literally? love it!!! love a great wounded beast of a city as a character!!!

unforch the "who is mister x" subplot does not resolve in a satisfying way, imo. there's a lot of flip-flopping, there's a lot of options, he ends up being (maybe?) someone he was very definitively proven NOT to be in an earlier issue, and it really soured me on the whole experience. and also i don't believe it! that specific person makes no fucking sense! who mister x is, is by far the least interesting part of the series. tell me more about how he's fixing the city. show me more of the city. shut up and dance, robot artists

-

watching

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, dir. Singer). this movie did not need to be two and a half hours long. appreciated the EXTREMELY divorced energy from charles & erik though, quicksilver rescuing the school scene was also very fun. my bestie's husband has informed me we are NOT watching Dark Phoenix, i'm not sure if we're going to loop back and watch the ??? number of wolverine films or if we're going to see how i feel about deadpool. bc i find this character insufferable through clips only.

-

playing

there is a feature in the video game genshin impact to turn your World Level (TM) down in order to make overworld enemies a little easier. i am at seven out of nine bc i genuinely can't finish the boss to unlock world level 9, and i am finding some of the overworld enemies too hard at 8 and want to finish the achievements in a more relaxed fashion.

-

making

this is going to be a lot of previously posted pics so bear with me.

saturday morning/saturday evening. plants? repotted. porch and stairs? swept. old wasp nests? knocked down. different mirror on the porch to go out to the curb when i have the energy? yes. also a giant slab of engineered stone from the top of a dresser but that's out of frame.

speaking of the giant broken dresser that was in my apartment when i moved in just over a year ago, i ripped it apart with a crowbar and threw it in the dumpster. put my pretty zebrawood desk in the empty space and started thinking about what to hang on that wall. the wall across from it is maps, bc i think a cozy office should have lots of maps and it makes a good video conference background. maybe this will be the dedicated cowboy nonsense wall. i did so much dusting and vacuuming and mopping and the girls can't even hang out in here bc the orange boy is in the office bathroom. big sigh.

also a lot of driving around and emailing and calling thirty shelters and rescues figuring out how to get this orange man a home. please take this orange man off my hands.

[xephia]

Hi, i hope this question doesn't bothers you, do you have any videos of your process?, im currently starting to learn how to do digital art and have trouble knowing where to start and what to do (im always like, should i start drawing this part first?, is it better to do clean lineart or just paint over the sketch?, do i work on the lights first or the shadows?, etc)

I can probs make you a video on this at some point based on something I'm currently working on, although I have a few on my tiktok already (@ xephia) if that helps!

My process is a bit messier than many other artists - I alternate between stages of sketch and colour before I even think about ‘final colour’. I’ll start with a sketch like the ones below, then slap some rough colour on. This is because IMO colour is an important part of the composition so I want to see what works before I line. They’re not meant to be pretty or social media ready. This stage can look super messy or tidy depending on how I feel or how complicated it is. And they can look wildly different; here’s some examples:

That stage also helps me decide if I want to finish the piece or if I should abandon it (I abandon a lot). Sometimes this stage takes 15min, sometimes 2 hours, it really depends on the piece. But for me personally, it’s crucial because otherwise I find it very hard to envision how it will look later, or forget what I was planning.

Then, I do at least one more layer of ‘sketch line art’, which is basically a first layer of line art to see what works and what needs changing. I colour the important bits relatively cleanly (usually character/s) and add might some subtle shadows/gradients and/or lighting to get a feel of what it will look like finished. Sometimes I repeat this process a couple of times if I’m not happy with how the first iteration looked. This stage usually looks a little like this character sheet I’m working on, and this slice from a Kiki delivery service sketch:

It’s usually not until I’ve done all that, that I go over and do the final lineart, making it thicker, colouring the lines, redoing the flat colours, tidying it up, and adjusting where needed. Essentially I don’t start ‘finishing’ a piece until I’m happy with where everything sits and what colours I’ve picked. It’s only at this point I feel like the sketch is ready to line, and lining and final colouring can actually take less time for me than all those layers of planning somehow haha.

At this point I keep tidying, cleaning, lining, colouring, until the piece feels complete. Sometimes complete for one piece is tidier than complete for another, it really depends.

I’ll also use Procreate’s push tool to adjust things as I go in all steps - it saves a lot of time and isn’t cheating.

Although as you can probably tell from my examples, I do change this procress up a lot depending on the piece! Sometimes I’ll even paint over parts of my final piece like I did in this magical girl street. I think find whatever works for you, everyone will work differently and things like mood, energy levels, how patient you feel, how stressed you are, if you have any hand pain or shaking, and how much free time you have that day to draw can all affect your process day to day, week to week.

Some days it will be easier and more comfortable to sketch messily, other days tidier. Some days you will draw well, other days not well at all. At least for me, I find consistency almost impossible.

So I think there's no right or wrong order to do things and it's great to switch it up and keep things interesting for yourself, and different processes work for different people. Hope this helps!

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

please do another list of odesta fanfic recommendations!! im so starved for content :(

Hi! I agree that odesta content has been sparse lately. I'm not sure exactly where you've looked so far so I've gathered a list of both newer and older fics, I hope you can find something good to read!

Newer

Tribute, Victor, Rebel by Shouting_at_God_in_Latin: What I really like about this one is that it does a great job of fleshing out the world of District 4. Finnick is the narrator but he doesn't feel like the center of the universe, he feels like a small part of a big, rich world. Personally I really appreciate this because that's something I have trouble doing when I write, so this could be a great one to check out if you're interested in how D4 and Panem operate.

The Sugar Cube Castle by Brilli_Ant: This one takes place during Annie's Games and is from her POV. It has an interesting dynamic because Annie and her district partner were friends before the Games, and of course there is the dramatic irony of Annie trying to figure out what Finnick's up to.

Golden Children by roxal04: This one is from Mags' POV and it offers a unique perspective on the war and on Finnick and Annie's relationship. It's a one-shot but it's pretty long, so this could be a good read if you're in the mood for something different.

some things last by fillorianravenclaw: This one alternates between Finnick and Annie's POV, so you get to see both sides of the story. It takes places during Annie's Games and I think it's well written and conveys Annie's thoughts and feelings well. It has another interesting dynamic between Annie and her district partner, which definitely makes things engaging.

Older

The Harvest by BeesKnees: This is an AU in which the rebellion fails. It's tragic but the ending is hopeful. I've read this multiple times and I've been on the edge of my seat each time. It's a pretty unique AU in my opinion, so it might not be what you're looking for, but I really enjoy it. This author has many odesta works that I love so be sure to check out the rest of their works if you haven't already!

I'll drown before your very eyes by ToshiChan: This is a beautiful and heartbreaking one-shot that deals with Finnick's trauma after the war. I will warn you that it is very sad but the ending is hopeful, so I found it to be a realistic depiction of what the victors' futures would look like.

Victorious-Rebellious by sabaceanbabe: This is a compelling AU in which the rebellion fails so Finnick and Annie start their own. It's a series that I really like, and I've found that sabaceanbabe does a great balance between romantic moments and engaging plot/action scenes. Also go check out their other work if you haven't done so, I really love it!

Valor, Valeria by aimmyarrowshigh: This is a beautiful one-shot that I read about three years ago and have been in love with ever since. It draws parallels between Finnick and Gale and shows how ultimately corrupt Panem is. I honestly can't believe I haven't mentioned this one yet lol.

my_odestiny wrote Odesta fic so I recommend checking out their works on ao3. Or you can check out their Tumblr (@my-odestiny) for other content.

I hope this list helps you, and as always, feel free to reblog if you have any fics to add or promote!

[ofherlionheart]

writer's meme

tagged by the illustrious @dickpuncher420

How many wips do you have currently?

let's say … three? docs are entitled: renaissance indulgence ch 5, sublimation, and body talk. (guess which one is like the sun lolol)

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?

all of them? lol. sublimation is stalled because i successfully sublimated my troubles into the draft so far and now i don't really care, at the moment, to finish resolving the story. body talk is stalled because idk man i gotta be in a certain mood to write in a werewolf-esque a/b/o universe. renaissance indulgence is not necessarily stalled but it is slow going because god won't let me settle for a normal word count

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

usually starts with "oh my god what IF —" and then a scramble for something, anything to write down the thing my brain just spontaneously birthed. alternate option, but far less frequently occurring: letting my mind wander on long airplane flights. do i look like im zoned the fuck out staring at the seat back in front of me? shhh. she's rotating blorbos in her head

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

long ago i'd usually inadvertently associate a song w/ a fic (the reason why so many fic titles are modified song lyrics) but now i work on such fat ass stories that by the time i've completed a story (or a chapter) i've gone through at least 10 different album/genre phases

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organized?

organized chaos! there's a general map, and typically a final destination as well, but i let myself consider detours

tagging the beautiful bitch reading this post <3 (aka im so sorry, i'm so offline idek who's still online atm)

[granulesofsand]

do you think it’s unsafe/dangerous to post about system functions? i would like to post ours, just so we have a better understanding of it, but im not sure if journaling would be better instead. we prefer online stuff because some alters have trouble writing.

We keep separate journals from our social media, and we have a couple safeties in place when we do. If it’s just typing that feels better, you can use a note app or keep everything in drafts (read privacy policies and terms of service if you’re doing that).

While we’re pretty open about how our system works online, we’re not particularly inclined to give identifying information for our body or any member of our collective. There are creeps online, so have a plan for how vague you’d like to be and which pieces to keep to yourself/ves

We queue almost everything. Current events in our life actually took place about a month ago, and any details of our structures or even opinions typically sit for three to five days so we can regret them before the world sees. We only post photos when we’ve left an area, and we change the location and timestamp when possible. Determine how much you(&) want strangers to know about your(&) life at any given time, and give yourself/ves space to discuss big topics before sending them out

Get consent from headmates or prepare to fight. Mentioning system members and their activities can feel violating, especially if anyone has exploitation trauma. Permission every time is ideal unless you know them really well (and even then you might offend them by accident)

Sharing account names and emails/phone numbers across platforms can get you(&) tracked easily. Decide what content you’re posting and remember that outsiders can find you(&) in a video game or gushing over an interest in the wild. Keep separate sideblogs and user info for different topics unless you(&)’re real comfy with people knowing that much about you(&). The more you(&) connect in public, the crisper the picture you(&) give for people looking for you(&)

Lying is okay. Change names, give a funky time period, construct a persona online. That’s harder to do with a journal on the internet, but you(&) need some barrier between the depths of your(&) soul(s) and the general populace. If you(&) are more authentic online, you(&) might have to be less authentic offline to stay safe

And to actually answer the question: no, I don’t think it’s safe to post system functions online. Catch me doing it anyway.

We find that social media allows us to get some peer interaction without the risk of irl relationships being compromised. We can share bits here and then turn around and say those things out loud in therapy

We can say that we’ve heard of others like us and learn what’s normal for our subgroup instead of humans in our town. People understand us, and we get more comfortable diverging from the norm in both modes of life

This much talking to strangers and practicing etiquette makes us better at opening communication amongst ourselves

We get feedback and learn to deal with criticism — including what is important to hear and change and what people are just mouthing off about

Most of us know that we can look for notes on our life (the stuff that didn’t make it into the letters) on this account. We get used to seeing each other’s writing and perspective, and so are less avoidant when we notice these things in physical reality

You(&) get to choose between your(&) own pros and cons. Maybe it’s not worth it to you(&); that’s fine, there are alternatives. Maybe you(&) want to give it a try; good luck, people can be both incredible kind and absolutely scathing. I do recommend asking around/leaving notes for your systemmates to determine what their concerns are, if any. There are shades of how far you(&) might go with each aspect going forth. It’ll probably be messy at first, but you(&)’ll learn. I’ve yet to disappear my system’s online presence, so clearly I enjoy it.

[chrisevansonly]

Pesky Paparazzi (harry’s angel au)

pairing: harry styles x female reader (angel)

summary: Amsterdam is so beautiful, until you’re being chased by paparazzi and some crazy ‘fans’

warnings: slight angst, protective harry, fans that def aren’t fans, swearing + some fluffy goodness

a/n; i know this isn’t the best and i’ve written better, but i wanted to get this finished and out! thank you everyone for being so patient with me; and for enjoying this au as much as I do🩷

You knew as much as Harry did just how crazy touring can be, especially when it comes to visiting landmarks and exploring the cities you’re both so fortunate to see throughout the months your on tour. Harry also loves finding new places to go on runs or work out in, while you’re more of a tea and coffee lover, trying to find the cutest and of course most local shops to visit and try.

It wasn’t that surprising to see a group of people in the distance on your morning walk, Harry’s hand holding yours as you walked around Amsterdam. He hadn’t yet noticed them but you did, and figured now maybe be the time to find an alternative route; it wasn’t easy running from crazy people being 5 months pregnant.

“H my love, I think we should maybe find a different route”

You stopped walking, your hand tightening on his as he looked towards the group of people up ahead of you both. Glancing at him you could see his shoulders tense

“Fuck..”

“It’s alright, they’re still aways up from us, let’s just figure out where to go”

He nodded and looked around the two of you, although you remained calm, Harry was in overdrive trying to find a safe way for you both to get back to the hotel. You weren’t very far from it, probably a 6 minute walk, but every way he turned people seemed to show up.

“What about through there? Between the shops?”

You pointed at a walkway, the cobble stones quite bare in comparison to the walkways along the channel

“Okay, let’s go, i’ll get Jeff to send us a car or something”

With his arm now wrapped around your lower back as opposed to holding onto your hand, a sign he was beginning to get slightly anxious. It was only quiet until he heard a plethora of footsteps echoing down the corridor followed by Harry’s name being called

“Harry can we have a photo?”

“Harry we love you”

“Can you sign this?!”

Soon enough you were surrounded by a small group of people, the sounds of excitement filling you with a sense of dread as your hands navigated to your bump just out of instinct

“M’sorry guys, I can’t stop, we’ve got to go, can we have some space?”

Some of the fans respected that, others were getting irate over the fact that Harry didn’t want to stop, that only made him become more agitated especially considering he was with you and his unborn daughter.

“H, i’ll walk ahead, im starting to cramp anyway…i’m sure they won’t give me any trouble..?”

Harry shook his head

“You’re cramping?”

“Minor…I think it’s anxiety…”

“You’re not going anywhere without me when y’not feeling well, come on.”

As much as you figured you’d be okay to walk alone, Harry wasn’t about to let you out of his sights, even if he had to fight through people to get you somewhere safe. Thankfully before it got too crazy, you noticed four of your teams bodyguards approaching and a car waiting at the end of the alley, which you were ushered into.

“Sorry that took so long Y/N, this place is crazy with the shows here”

You smiled in Jeff’s direction, the pains in your stomach not dissipating very much

“It’s alright, more worried about Harry honestly”

Jeff went to respond to you when the door opened again on the other side and Harry slid in next to you, his eyes raking over your form to check for any discomfort; which you were already trying your hardest to hide.

Harry wouldn’t give up that easily if he knew you weren’t feeling well..

“You sure you’re okay angel..? I knew we should have stayed in today..”

Placing your hands on his you shook your head

“I’m okay, obviously not feeling very well now but im fine, baby girl is fine…we’re all okay H, promise…we can’t just hide away forever in a hotel room you know”

“Yes we can.”

Rolling your eyes you turned to face him a little more, wincing at a few strong kicks from your little girl

“No we can’t, because I’d go stir crazy and you’d get bored, I know there are always chances of what happened today, but I still love experiencing all of these countries and cities with you, it’s not your fault some people can’t respect you and your privacy”

Harry stayed quiet, you assumed lost in thought or letting his anxiety take grasp of his already racing thoughts

“H, will you look at me please my love?”

“I’m sorry”

“Hey, none of that”

The car stopped outside of the hotel’s entrance, your eyes still locked on Harry’s, hands grasping his cheeks so he would look at you

“I love you, we’re safe and now we can go have a cuddle and watch a movie, nothing bad happened to us, you kept us safe and got us back here without any issues, so no more being pouty and blaming yourself understood?”

After a few seconds he gave you a tiny smile, which was enough for you in this moment

“I love you too, no more being pouty, I promise”

Harry carried his heart on his sleeve for you, always wanting to fill your days with love and comfort, not even some pesky and overbearing fans could keep him from letting you know just how much he loves you, and how far he would go for you..

[ihatethiswebsite77]

So I was wondering if you could talk about the Kyle/cartman and batman/joker parallels because there is a LOT. Im considering doing my own analysis but I wanted to hear another perspective, if possible?

This is an Interesting topic.

I think it would be an understatement to call Cartman anything but an agent of chaos. The Joker believes that everyone around him is no different than himself, and he seeks to expose that. While Cartman doesn't really want to expose everyone for being just as bad as he is, as that would require admitting he is bad in the first place, that is still definitely a belief he holds deep down. With Joker this belief culminates into an obsession with Batman, someone who operates by a strict moral code, someone Joker believes is SO similar to him, whose attention he is constantly seeking while trying to get him to basically "admit" that they are the same by killing him. The Joker finds great amusement in his altercations with Batman. In a very similar way, which I'm sure you've already picked up, Cartman feels and behaves when it comes to Kyle. If there is on person in south park Cartman truly considers on his level it is Kyle. And in a similar vein to the Joker he find great amusement in his and Kyle's arguments.

Neither Batman nor the Joker can ever truly win against eachother tho. Due to their unchanging nature and beliefs they can never cross that bridge. The only way for Batman to truly beat the Joker is to kill him (aka become him), which goes against all his morals, and the Joker could never kill Batman.

“You just couldn’t let me go, could you? This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You truly are incorruptible, aren’t you? You won’t kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness, and I won’t kill you because you’re just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever”, a quote of Jokers from the Dark Knight.

(This quote is literally such a good description for Cartman and Kyle overall)

Just like these two Kyle and Cartman can never truly win against eachother. Kyle could never let himself stoop down to Cartman's level, and Cartman even tho he has attempted to "kill Kyle" many times, could never truly do it for the fact that his life would just be dull without him around to fight with.

There is a good chunk of works that depict that relationship between Joker and Batman as "friendly" (take that with like a grain of salt) in a way. The very fact that Batman refuses to kill him, even going so far as continually saving The Joker. Essentially allowing him to roam free again and again, simply because he believes that there is something worth saving there.

“Do you understand? I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want either of us to end up killing the other. But we’re running out of alternatives and we both know it”, Batman in The Killing Joke.

In a similar manner Kyle is continuously trying to see something good in Cartman, even against his better judgement. Constantly saving him from trouble, from a sense of moral obligation and maybe even one of genuine friendships. There is a part of Kyle that genuinely believes that Cartman can change.

The same comic ends with the two characters realizing that they can never truly trust eachother (told to us through a metaphor in a joke The Joker tells to Batman). They both start cackling at the ridiculousness of their situation, almost as if they were two friends having a laugh.

We are shown so many times in this show that Cartman and Kyle could be genuinely good friends, there are multiple instances of them acting so. But their antagonistic relationship towards eachother is something Kyle and Cartman can never manage to escape, even after 40 years they seem to regress at the first look they have of eachother. In a way that's similar to the Joker and Batman they need eachother. Their characters linger on each other. They justify eachothers existence by being eachothers narrative foils. Which kinda dooms them to a life of fighting.

[rissouu]

Hi there! I love your stuff and I'm looking for some advice from a creator who is a POC like me?

I started making smaus last year, and a lot of people are requesting couple Halloween costumes from me. I'm having a lot of trouble finding good pics on Pinterest and stuff. It's also superduper hard to find pics that can work for "X Reader" and it feels weird searching "Black couple Halloween costumes" or “Asian Halloween costumes” and stuff like that.

I'm still really new to using Tumblr and I'm not sure how to go about all this lol. I'm having trouble finding advice elsewhere online and on Tumblr. Are people going to hate me if some of the pics in my smaus aren't 100% true to "X Reader"?

Thanks for your help!!

hi hi hun, don’t stress too much over it, i say just do what’s easier for you! my advice to you is probably to make 2 different versions so it’ll be inclusive to all, like one for “x reader” and then one for “x black reader”. but remember do what’s easiest for you, if that seems like too much work then im sure they’re other alternatives! (i hope i helped and i wasn’t too confusing 😓).