#but once i deal with all this the writing stuff will resume

[cb-writes-stuff]

I am tired of being in crisis mode.

Anyway. Does anyone have any resources I can read on plurality? No, not the linguistics thing. The personality thing. I have suspicions and I’d like to confirm or deny them.

Reblogs also help, if you know someone who’s plural.

[rimunagenius]

And They Were Roomates

☙ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

☙ word count: 2.5k words

☙ warnings: RPF!! use of y/n, not proof read.

☙ ri speaks: I need more kate martin content and i haven’t been fed the specific ones that i need so i must write them to the best of my horrendous abilities. Idek how good this will be…im sorry in advance LMFAO. also this is two thousand five hundred words but it looks a lot shorter….crying

this is also a general announcement that i will indeed be refreshing my blog, so that means new and updated master lists and posts are coming out soon so sorry if you get a spam of rimunagenius on your feed!!

Part 1

| Series Masterlist |

When you first started in Iowa, you never expected the immediate love you recieved from the people there. They were friendly, generous, and so much different from people in California. Especially your roommate, Kate Martin. You had met her shortly after your first day of Junior year. A while after, you two became roomates because you needed more space, and she needed someone to split rent with in her apartment. Sounded like a great deal to both of you.

"You don't mind?" You asked unsure. Not wanting to impose on her, possibly ruining plans with making a deal with her actual teammates.

"No! Not at all! I really like you and you're alot of fun! I'd love for you to move in with me." She beamed at you, giving you a side hug when she saw your expression change. You both were ecstatic.

Since then, you had been living with Kate for almost two years. You two had become inseparable. Always on campus together, meeting up between classes to get coffee or lunch together, sometimes with Caitlin and your other friends. It was great. You were happy with your home away from home.

You had transfered from UC Irvine and decided to pursue your degree and career in sports medicine here in Iowa City. You were one of the new athletic trainees and ocassionly a photographer; your previous major was in photography and Lisa and the administration had really loved your resume and work, so they hired you as a part time (barely) photographer, for whenever they wanted more shots than what they usually wanted or a fill in.

Currently, you were needed in the Carver stadium to help record a mic’d up practice session for the team. It was for the Iowa Hawkeye Youtube channel. You had experience because you too had a youtube channel that you started when you first transferred to Iowa. So you had told Lisa and the coaches that you’d be able to film it.

“Hey, Gabbie!” You smiled at her as you walked into the locker room, approaching Kate’s cubby to set your stuff down. Kate telling you this morning before she left that you could put your stuff with hers.

“Hey, girlie! So guess what?” You and Gabbie loved to gossip. It was so much fun and it started when you were redoing the tape on her ankles, and she looked down so you asked her about it, and since then, you both have told eachother whatever gossip you had.

“Oh my god, what?” You took your sweater out of your bag, the locker room being chilly, so you could imagine the court.

“So that boy Nick in my econ class, totally asked about you today. I didn’t want to crush his hopes and dreams but I did say you weren’t his type.” She took a seat next to where you were standing to put her shoes on.

“Wait, the boy I said would so be my type if he was a girl? That Nick?” You laughed because he was really nice and such a sweet guy but he just wasn’t a girl. Men are pretty but only to look at.

“Yes!”

“How’d he take it?” This guy has asked you out once before but you just said you weren’t looking to date. Probably should’ve elaborated on that one.

“But he asked me “Oh, who is? Does he go here?” And I was like,” she paused to reenact the face she made. “I said it too fast so I didn’t have time to say “Oh, It’s long distance or something” sooo I don’t know.” She rambled and just pulled her hair into a small ponytail.

“What do you mean? That made no sense, Gab.” You were confused. She looked guilty of something but you didn’t want to pressure her but you also really wanted to know what she had said about you to Nick.

“I kinda sorta said you had a girlfriend already, and he took that as ‘Oh, she’s dating her roommate Kate Martin’ because he said he supposedly sees you guys together everywhere.” She meant well. It really wasn’t her fault that Nick totally misread the situation.

“Oh shit.” Your jaw dropped. You thought it was awkward but now it went full fledged horrendous. You were already out, and anyone who followed your insta would’ve saw it in your stories, so you weren’t worried about that but you were worried for Kate.

“So what do we do about the fact that a random kid on campus thinks your dating Kate?”

“Ok wait, i’m actually scared. Like how do you think Kate will take it?” You were talking to Gabbie and immediately knew you fucked up by seeing the expression on her face.

“How will I take what?” Kate walked in, hair down, dressed in her practice uniform, and sat on the chair next to you. You hadn’t realized that you sat down with Gabbie. Lost in the conversation and frenzy of the new mess that could possibly affect yours and Kate’s social life dramatically.

“I’m just gonna…” Gabbie got up, and walked out, meeting the others outside on the court.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a minute.” You said to the girl before turning to Kate. You had caught her up on the lore behind you and Nick, if you could even call this one sided infatuation lore. Now you just had to tell her the problem. “So Gabbie tried to tell him that I was already seeing some girl. But Nick jumped to this whole conclusion that me and you were together.”

You watched her face. Looking for any sort of negative reaction. Waiting for her to blow up on you. “Oh.”

“And when Gabbie tried to say it wasn’t you and that were just friends, and that my supposed girlfriend lives in California, he got up and left. So it may be possible that the whole Iowa college campus will assume we’re together.” You played with your fingers as you watched her some more. Still waiting for her explosion.

“I mean, I don’t mind. He sounded weird so if it keeps the guy away from you, i’m okay with being the ‘pretend’ girlfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders. Grabbing her shoes from behind you, your chair sitting right infront of the cubby that belonged to her:

“Kate. Are you sure? This is so random and so strange and I would totally get it if your uncomfortable.” You wanted it to be clear that this situation could go away if she was uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable you’d go on a date with him and just tell him it won’t work after. It’d be bad for you if he goes around saying rude things but you couldn’t care less about people you don’t know. You just wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t the one feeling weird.

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t have to kiss you in public, right? I feel like that’s overstepping a boundary we have not thought about setting.”

“No, Kate. You do not have to kiss me in public. Wait so you’d kiss me in private?” You looked at the girl, now fully joking around as you wiggled your eyebrows and laughed.

“Oh yeah for sure.” Kate made a funny face while nodding her head before grabbing her water and standing up. You following behind to get this practice and video recording started.

“Oh, and your getting mic’d up today. I don’t know if Coach Lisa told you.” You say as you both walk onto the court.

You and Kate had showered, separately unfortunately, and sat on the couch. You had been trying to convince her the whole way home from practice to watch New Girl. She agreed after ten excruciating minutes of your nagging.

You were deciding to pick the snack you wanted, grabbing M&Ms you bought at the store yesterday, snickers, chips, and popcorn. You wanted to watch as many episodes as possible because you both started school late tomorrow and it was an off day for practice.

“What are these practices anyways? Are they like preseason workouts to get back in shape or?” You watched Kate as she picked her snacks.

“Yeah. Basically. We’re technically only allowed to goof off a little during those ones.” Kate laughed, referring to the mic’d up practice today. Coach Lisa usually wants a more focused and intimate space during the actual season. “Oh my. What if we just kill this whole tub of Neapolitan ice cream?” Kate took it out of the freezer and suddenly all your snack choices went back to the cabinets.

“Ou deal, Martin.” You grabbed two spoons before making your way to the couch. Grabbing the blanket off the backrest, and throwing it over you both. You both settled and got comfy ready to start the marathon of New Girl.

You were both sitting in silence after you decided to just do a highlight reel of episodes since you weren’t going to force Kate to watch multiple seasons. "Are you excited for this upcoming season? Your last season?" You asked as you looked to your right. Kate was seated next to you while you both decided to disregard bowls and just eat the ice cream straight from the tub. She held the tub as you both dug what you wanted out of it. She shoved more ice cream into her mouth and she smiled and nodded her head.

"I am. Just scared and sad." She said somewhat incoherently due to not having swallowed the mouthful of ice cream. You nodded your head. You had already adapted to the Kate language. When she talked while yawning, mouth full, her body language, and her facial expressions. Not many people were fluent like you, and you were actually proud to be one of the people. So you understood exactly what she meant. You saw everything else she was feeling just by the look in her eye and the shape of her lips.

But you also felt sad for her too. You’d both be a sixth-year, grad students, in a couple months. This year bigger for her more than you. This year being her last and final run in her collegiate career. This was huge. You both knew this but wanted to focus on the nicer aspects. You and the girls would support her and be her friend even if she decided to never touched a basketball again. You guys were for life.You didn’t play, so you felt there was nothing you thought you could say other than just being her friend.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. A small comforting hug, atleast a hug at which this position provided, and kissed the top of her head. You only used terms of endearment like this in small, comforting, intimate moments. You felt this was the right time. "I'll be here for you, and you have the girls. We’ll back you in whatever you do, outside of basketball and school. You can’t ever get rid of us if you tried. But I will give you all the support and all the ice cream you can eat right now." You smiled at the blonde. You both stared at eachother, a little too long, “We are not beating the supposed ‘girlfriend’ allegations right now, Martin.” She bursted out laughing. You not far behind.

"But seriously, thanks shortie." She said as she patted your knee, right before she lost it again and laughed out loud. You immediatey cringed at the name, and pushed her away from you.

"OH! my god! Immediately no, Kate." You laughed again, half embarassment and half amusement. "That is not funny. You sound like a frat boy." That earned another snort laugh from Kate.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You side-eyed her. Pulling the blanket a little closer to you. Scooting over the tiniest bit over to feign anger and hurt. Still managing to catch her movement through your peripheral.

"Bro, I'm not even that much shorter than you. Just short three inches." You rolled your eyes at your best friend, turning back to the episode where Jess and Nick kiss eachother for the first time. Your favorite episode.

"Yes, I know. I know how you feel about my short jokes. I almost cried when you ignored me for three and a half days." Kate chuckled as she looked to you her smile dropping, a frown forming when you still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, y/n. Don't ignore me again, please! I was kidding." She asked you while chuckling nervously, she asked you two more times, when that didn’t work she insisted on poking you for a two minutes straight.

"Okay, Kate. I forgive you. Now shush, my favorite part is coming up." You kept your eyes on the screen and tried to reach for your spoon in the tub. Your fingers reaching everywhere but your spoon. "Kate can you help me please?"

"Yes, but haven't you already seen this show like eight-billion times?" She grabbed a spoon, whichever one was closest, forgetting which one was which, and scooping a good spoonful, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth and took the ice cream happily.

"Thank you, you big teddy bear. God's gift, I'm telling you." You said as you watched the best scene on sitcom TV about to unfold.

"Im just going to pretend you're talking about me and not your show." Kate whispered. "You're welcome, pretty." She said louder so you could hear.

That got your attention. It wasn’t something that you hadn’t heard come out of her mouth and directed to you before; she's called you pretty multiple times when you had asked if the outfit you were wearing out looked good or if the makeup you put on was good for this dinner a girl you were seeing on and off wanted to take you out to. But she's never once used it in this context. You got a nervous feeling in your stomach, something you recognized as butterflies for sure. Fighting the urge to smile at the compliment, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. Fighting the thoughts you had about her.

It was something new but this one thing…this you weren't going to get used to. You guys were best friends and just roomates. You can't feel anyway about this.You decided to ignore it and take it as a compliment in the moment to make up for the short joke. It definitely wasn’t something serious as you were making.

"I was talking about both of you. The TV and you, Kit-Kate." You put your arm around her shoulder and continued to watch the show. Watching the scene you had been waiting for all night to play. “This was the best cinematic experience I have ever had.” You whispered, now reaching for the spoon again for some ice cream.

Kate beating you to it, already having got another spoonful for you, feeding it to you like she did a couple of seconds ago. You smiled and thanked her before you both decided to cut the show, and search for a movie of both your choosing this time.

[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

---

You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?

[centrally-unplanned]

Have seen 3-4 "death of culture at the modern university" posts on my dash, so lets address the forces being missed in those posts. People today are not less cultured, they are not less creative - hell that is actually hilarious, due to radically lowered barriers of entry a good deal more people are creative in some way today. The average 21 year old is as awash in hot takes or avant garde art or crazy political movements as they ever were, give-or-take the zeitgeist fluctuations of any given year.

What has changed is that the university is no longer as necessary a lodestone for that culture. The primary cause is of course the internet of it all; in the same way people just have less friends now because they can be entertained otherwise, if I want freeform poetry readings I can go on Youtube, I can *post* on Youtube. I don't need to be a part of my uni's zine, I can just write for...any zine!! Anywhere!! Colleges used to solve the coordination problem of bringing disparate people together to participate in distinct hobbies all in one place; the internet does that better. College for some is a little obselete.

Meanwhile, universities themselves have changed, and a lot of it is that stifling, bureaucratic stuff you see in those posts. But supply meets demand; those schools changed for a reason, and one of the big ones is that how undegraduates spend their time has pretty radically changed too. The "have fun majoring in ~whatever at uni" idea that peaked in the 1980's is pretty dead; if you are at a top school you are planning out your internships for freshman summer, because you need multiple as part of your four year plan to max your odds of getting into med school or a slot on the marketing consulting team at Deloitte. The competition for entry-level jobs has escalated dramatically since the late 90's; companies both lost faith in the "liberal arts" stamp as a universal smartness indicator, the complexity of jobs legitimately went up and demand more skills at entry level, and enough savvy students were building comprehensive resumes that they didn't need to settle any more, they had their pick. And these all feed on each other through competition; once enough students are doing it, everyone has to do it.

So college is just "about" career prep more and more now for people. Which just isn't fun and not the place you stick your creativity in; it doesn't vibe that way. These transformations are structural, and even sans the bureaucracy things like Greek Life would be fading. How is that boosting your organic chemistry grade again? Who has the time for that shit.

But people are still doing all the creative edgy art weird stuff. Just not within the confines of the college quite as much. And of course many still do; its all margins in the end.

[lostinhisworld]

who else, if not her - JJ MAYBANK

warnings: none really, fluff, y/n x jj maybank, she/her pronouns, mention of potential jiara (just y/n being suspicious), overthinking?, happy ending, friends to lovers trope, y/n being dumb? jj being dumb?? them both being dumb??? pure brainrot and mindless writing (i was half asleep when i came up with this idea lol) unedited

words count: 734

hope you enjoy xx

The boy's fingers drummed against the counter as he rolled his eyes, feeling like it was the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. "I've told you already, Y/n, there's nothing going on between me and Kie."

Sighing deeply, she turned to scrutinize his face, a pout on her lips.

For the past half-hour, she'd been pressing him, convinced a love story was unfolding between her two best friends. From her perspective—decided after a long night of overthinking and staring at her wall—the two "friends" had been spending extra time together, whispering secrets away from the group and sharing inside jokes with only their eyes.

And this could only mean one thing—true love.

"Come on, Jay," she huffed, stalking closer to his position on the kitchen counter. "I've known you for over a decade. I know when you have feelings for a girl."

"Clearly, you don't," he declared, hands braced on the girl's shoulders to emphasize his statement. "Because I am not in love with Kiara."

Narrowing her eyes, she thought harder, a crease forming between her brows.

Reaching forward, JJ used his thumb to calm her expression, a teasing smile on his lips. "Don't do that; you'll get wrinkles," he joked, hoping to end their previous conversation.

"Fine," Y/n concluded. "You're not in love with Kie."

"That's what I've been saying," the boy mumbled, relaxing against the wall behind him.

"But you are in love with someone," Y/n announced, earning another eyeroll from him. "No, don't do that. It makes sense why you've been spending so much time with Kiara now. You've been asking for advice," she rambled, eyes lighting up with discovery.

"But who else, if not her?" she suddenly wondered aloud after a moment of silence.

JJ chuckled, shaking his head at Y/n's persistence. "You've got an imagination, but it's not as complicated as you're making it out to be."

She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to spill the secret. "Enlighten me then. If it's not Kiara, who's the lucky one? Someone from school?"

He sighed, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, detective, since you won't let this go. I may have been seeking advice, but it wasn't about someone from school. It's about someone else."

Her eyes widened with curiosity. "Someone else? Who?"

He leaned in conspiratorially, his tone hushed. "It's a secret, Y/n. Can't spill all the beans."

She crossed her arms, feigning offense. "After all these years of friendship, you won't share your secrets with me?"

He grinned, playfully tapping her nose. "Some secrets are meant to be kept, but I promise, it's nothing dramatic. Just life stuff."

Y/n rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "Fine, keep your secrets, Jay. But one day, you'll spill the beans, willingly or not."

He chuckled, pulling her into a quick hug. "Deal. Now, can we drop the detective act and get back to normal conversation?"

She nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "For now, Jay. But the mystery isn't over."

As they resumed their conversation, the lingering question of JJ's secret continued to dance in Y/n's mind, ensuring that this little mystery wasn't going to be forgotten easily.

Later that evening, Y/n walked into the Chateau’s spare bedroom to find JJ and Kiara deep in conversation, their heads close together. Suspicion ignited once again, but before she could intervene, John B and Pope burst into the room, excitement radiating from their expressions.

"Guess what, guys! Keggar at the beach tonight!" John B announced, a wide grin on his face.

Kiara's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and JJ shot Y/n a quick, relieved glance, grateful for the timely interruption.

As they all geared up for the beach party, the night unfolded with laughter, music, and the sound of waves crashing on the shore. The atmosphere was lively, and Y/n couldn't resist the chance to tease JJ once more.

Amidst the party chaos, she sidled up to him, a playful smirk on her lips. "So, Jay, any progress on that secret of yours?"

He feigned innocence, feigning ignorance. "Secret? What secret?"

Y/n leaned in, lowering her voice. "You know, the one about the person you're in love with. Any revelations?"

JJ chuckled, glancing around to ensure no one overheard. "You're persistent, Y/n. But no, no revelations yet."

She arched an eyebrow. "Hmm, I don't buy it. I bet you're just waiting for the right moment."

He smirked, catching onto her playful banter. "Maybe, or maybe I'm enjoying the mystery."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible, Jay."

As the night wore on, with waves crashing and the bonfire casting flickering shadows, Y/n couldn't resist one last playful jab.

"Come on, spill the beans. Who's the lucky person?" she teased.

JJ sighed dramatically. "You won't let this go, will you?"

She grinned, eyes sparkling. "Not a chance."

Finally, unable to resist her persistent charm, JJ leaned in, his expression serious. "Alright, Y/n, you win. The secret is..." He paused, drawing out the suspense.

Y/n eagerly waited for the revelation, only for JJ to say, "I'm in love with someone special. Someone who's been by my side for years."

Her eyes widened, anticipation building. "Who is it?"

He looked into her eyes, a warm sincerity in his gaze. "It's you, Y/n. I'm in love with you."

The revelation hung in the air, the beach party swirling around them as the truth finally came to light.

JJ's eyes widened in a mix of panic and anticipation as he awaited Y/n's response. The seconds stretched, and he began to nervously babble, attempting to play it off.

"Ha! Gotcha, right? I mean, who would actually say something like that at a party? Classic joke, JJ, classic joke. You know how I am—always kidding around."

He forced a laugh, trying to gauge her reaction. Y/n, however, remained silent, her expression unreadable. The tension hung in the air until, unexpectedly, she cut through his rambling with a deep and passionate kiss.

Caught off guard, JJ initially froze before responding with equal fervor. Their lips moved in sync, the world around them fading into the background. When they finally pulled away, foreheads resting against each other, Y/n spoke in a soft, sincere tone.

"You know, JJ, you don't have to hide behind jokes. I've been in love with you for years too."

JJ's eyes widened again, this time in disbelief and joy. "Wait, really?"

She nodded, a tender smile on her lips. "Yeah, really. I just never thought you'd feel the same way."

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. "Well, surprise! I've been trying to find the right moment to tell you, and I guess a beach party was it."

Y/n chuckled, the warmth of the moment settling between them. "I guess it was. So, what now, JJ?"

He grinned, his eyes filled with affection. "Now? Now, we stop hiding behind secrets and jokes. We give this a real shot."

As the waves crashed on the shore and the party continued in the background, JJ and Y/n stood on the beach, hand in hand, ready to explore the new chapter unfolding in their longstanding friendship.

[celestie0]

Idk if this is weird to ask but can you tell more about your situationship?😭 I’m curious since it inspired the story idkkk

nooo not weird at all haha, i had plans to share more ab it once i was done w kickoff but i dont really mind sharing a bit now (will literally always take up any chance to talk ab it it’s an impulse i cannot resist)

basically i met this guy like halfway through my freshman year of college at a frat event, it was a bit different from kickoff dynamic in that we started hooking up pretty soon after that, just a casual thing, but then the pandemic hit and so he went back home to live w his grandpa/family in new york (i live in cali) once campus shut down and stuff. obviously we couldn’t hook up anymore LMFAO but we still talked a lot and i think it was during this time of just talking to one another that i really started to catch massive feelings for him :”)

i went through some bad anxiety during covid, struggling a lot w my career and if i still wanted to pursue the things i thought i wanted (i think a lot of college students went through this w the pandooski) but he would always be there for me and would stay on facetime calls w me if i was struggling to study, he’d cheer me up w pics of his tibetan dogs lol, just reallyyy sweet ugh when we were long distance i rly saw a side of him i didn’t before and i think that’s what made me fall for him

i confessed to him first, similar to reader in kickoff, n told him we could do long distance until he moved back here. but then he hit me with the “i’m sorry, i can’t date you, i’ve got commitment issues”. in his case, he had a long-term girlfriend in high school for four years who he also was dating into college (before he met me), but he found out she had been cheating on him for a long time w not just one but multiple of his friends 😭 so..he said he has really bad trust issues, and that he really wanted to try to date me, but he just felt like he couldn’t

i was really hurt, obviously, but i think in hindsight maybe it was a responsible decision on his part to not throw me into a mess of a relationship w him, one he knew he wasn’t ready for. but at the time, i just thought that it was bc i wasn’t good enough to change his mind. anyways, he asked if we could still talk and be friends, and i said sure bc i didn’t really want to lose him. i figured i could just wait for him (and i told him that i would)

yeahhh well the waiting was way more fucking painful than i thought. he flew to cali once to visit me when flights were sort of resuming, which is just fucking insane because you’ll fly to see me but you won’t date me 😭, and i told him that it’d be the last time he ever sees me! and it was :”) maybe it was an impulsive decision by me, but idk. yknow when you get stuck in a limbo for what feels like forever that you make a decision just for the sake of making one (it was such a short amt of time in reality, but it felt like forever) he made a comment to me in our last conversation about how he really wished he didn’t have to be someone i had to wait on to change, and that really fuckin stuck w me lmao i cried so hard the drive home from the airport. i think all the “what-ifs” kinda sunk in at that moment

ch7 of kickoff was basically me trying to get inside the head of the guy from my situationship, and see what it’s like to have fears hold you back from wanting to experience something for yourself, something that could be beautiful if you would just give it a chance. i felt like if i wrote it from that angle, i’d have more understanding of my situationship (i dont have commitment issues myself, tbh i’ve never rlly understood the concept. like, i’ve been fucked over by ppl in my life too but i’m never one to punish the next person for it. dealing w my situationship was really hard because of this, i would get really frustrated, but writing ch7 from gojo’s character’s perspective made situationship guy’s feelings make more sense to me, i think, there was a sense of closure in that)

but anyways, i was in love w him for sure. like, possibly infatuated. there was a time where we got into a big argument about something and i think i legit i cried myself into a fever 💀 it was all so crazy and powerful, the feelings, i’ve been involved w n dated other guys since but of course none of it really compares. idk, i guess there are just some people that can make you feel that way, there’s really no use in understanding why.

this sounds so sappy, lmaoo i swear i truly am “over” him in that i hardly think of him that much anymore, n tbh i don’t think of him specifically all that much while i’m writing kickoff, but there are moments where i can’t help but bring those feelings into the story.

there’s a line in ch8, near the end of the bed scene, where reader has a thought like

“You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to.”

yeah. that’s basically how i felt about him.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Tis I again, 🪱 anon! Been busy with work and looking at this blog on my free time again. I was wondering if you could do some creeps (slender and some of your choice, typing this during work haha) reactions to male reader’s accomplishments? Like getting a promotion basically. Sorry if the wording is off, busy day!

Oh and do it when you have time, love the blog still! Keep up the good stuff B)

-🪱 anon

I love getting to write for slender more people need to request him :((

Credits to divider go to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their work

Thank you so much for requesting!!

Slenderman

Slender isn't very expressive with his emotions, but he does show you that he is proud of you in his own way

He will briefly congratulate you once you turn in for the night, placing a hand on your back and muttering a "good job, love"

He will then set aside all of his work for the day in order to "properly celebrate"

This is a big deal, as he is never free from his work and it takes a lot for him to get even a few hours off

So getting a whole night just to yourselves is a major score

He will arrange for you to go get a professional spa day, complete with a soaking, mud mask, full body massage and getting your hair (if you have any) cleaned up

After that, he will ask that you put on some outing clothes, then takes you out for dinner to the underworld's finest restaurant

While you eat all you want, he will sip (more like absorb) some wine and softly mutter about how happy and how proud he is that you were able to finally reach a goal of yours

Once you finish up there, he will take you back to the manor, changing into more comfy clothes with you and cuddling with you in his bed until you fall asleep

Since he doesn't have a need for sleep, he will simply get up and resume his work once you are out

Masky

Once Tim catches wind of your promotion he is super excited!

Depending on what kind of a person you are, he will either take you out partying or you will stay inside and order your favorite food while spending time together

If you like to party, you will throw on some clubbing clothes before checking out some local areas

Once you find a nice place, you spend the night dancing and drinking to celebrate

You then both stumble home, giggling and chatting all the way and promptly pass tf out once you reach the bed

If you'd rather stay inside, he will order your favorite restaurant while you get into your pajamas

Once the food gets there, he sets the food up and wraps an arm around you

You choose a movie you want to watch, and spend the rest of the night watching it

All the while, Tim will press kisses to you, whispering about how amazing you are, how you deserve the whole world, and how he's so happy for you

Toby

He will be over the moon!

He insists that you celebrate by buying yourself something special with your new shiny money

(And because of this, he also ends up buying you something lol)

Celebration with him is pretty relaxed

Just the two of you cuddled up in his bedroom, you giggling while he kisses you every where he can reach

Every now and then he'll stop to press his cheek to yours, or to say how excited he is, but then it's right back to it

You end up staying up all night (not to worry, you have the next day off)

Somewhere around 11:00 p.m Toby heads down to go get a whole tub of chocolate ice cream for the two of you

You sit up eating the ice cream, listening to music, watching movies, cuddling, you name it

Toby is super tired the next morning and insists that you stay in bed with him all day so he can kiss you whenever he happens to wake up

[mellosdrawings]

ooh, just saw you’re also doing the twst ask game!! how about 5, 23 and 27, if it hasn’t been asked already? :]

5. If you could have any unique magic / signature spell in the game, which would you choose and why?

23. Which dorm would you be sorted into?

27. What drew you into TWST? What made you stay?

5. I WANT CATER'S MAGIC SO BAD YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! Do you know how many projects I have? I wish I could do them all but I gotta prioritize (/pejorative). If I could just make clones I'd be able to work on my webcomic and my Twst fanarts and my writings and my Sci-fi visual novel and-

23. Once upon a time in my teenagehood, I would've been sorted into Heartslabyul because I had the "obey to every single rule" type of autism. Now? I guess it'd be Octavinelle or Scarabia. It's hard to say.

27. Ok so, the thing is I actually was into this game before it even went out. I heard about a Japanese game soon coming and there was the countdown art series and I was IN LOVE with it from a purely aesthetic aspect. Plus I liked the pitch/summary/whatever you call it in English when you resume something to its bare minimum. I loved Descendants so having more content about Disney villains or their descendants was great.

What makes me stay is two things:

1. The characters and their relationships.

I'm the kind of person who can handle most stories as long as the characters are very interesting. And boy, they are.

They all feel very well rounded and believable, not one tone characters who are only interested in one thing. All of them have full personalities and several things they're into and several things they dislike and random info about them that are just there, it feels compelling. Plus I'm the kind of creator that loves diving into my characters' flaws to enhance my plots, so the fact that the game is about the characters' flaws is right into my alley.

Also they all have relationships with one another in some way, where other medias might have just given them a handful of characters to get along with and wouldn't have bothered to find how to make them interact with the other characters.

2. The teen traumas

Ok, they might not always be handled best, but it is compelling to have this stuff, that is usually shrugged at because those are teens and it "shouldn't be called trauma it's just part of life". Here it is given weight.

Riddle's trauma about having an helicopter mom, Vil's trauma about being a child star that has always been typecast as a villain, Azul's bullying, Idia's terrible handling of grief, Leona's trauma about the double standard of people considering him and his brother, Malleus’s refusal to deal with his own grief. It's very compelling stuff and it's powerful. Some of those seem more traumatic than others (*cough* Jamil’s struggle with slavery *cough*) but, well, for a teen all of those are equally as traumatic, and it's normal for them all to have mental breakdowns when they have been given no support whatsoever.

I'm an angst enjoyer who loves to see how much you can hurt a character before they break down, and then what it takes to build them back up into a functioning person. This story is about that, so I dig it really hard.

Plus it's easy to relate to at least one of those characters. The game had me by the scruff with Riddle's storyline because I held myself to a level of perfectionism that also made me break down, so when it happened to Riddle I instantly fell in love. It took me a while to understand Leona's storyline, and then it held me hostage again with Azul's. Idia's own monologue is so powerful that it makes me cry every single time.

So yeah, despite the flaws, I can see gold in there and I doubt I'll get tired of it easily.

[celestialcrownsvn]

Update 7/17/24

Hello Tumblr, I'm back! I'm so sorry for the unmentioned hiatus. I just had a lot of stuff going on that I had to deal with and didn't have the mental capacity to keep up with socials. I'm trying to ease myself back into it, so I will be resuming my once a week posts on tumblr, and I am aiming for two twitter posts a week.

So despite the fact that I've been away, there has been some serious progress made on the game. Specifically, backgrounds!

Backgrounds

Sorry for the duplicate, I just loved Aalam's room so much I had to share twice ^^

That's right, this is our first look at Aalam's room, and the full city of Andromeda! Mika has been doing a fantastic job with the backgrounds and there are only a few left! Which means that I'll be able to program in style and see the game really come to life as I keep writing.

We also have both the Laute and Andromeda infirmary, the Laute dungeon, and Aalam's family cabin!

Community Goal Reached

We hit one of our community goals--1000 steam wishlists! 🥳

This means that I will be adding an additional CG to the game! It will be in the first few chapters, so I've asked the CG artist to prioritize it so I can get an updated demo out. Look out for sketches in the Discord sneak peak channel if you pledged at that tier!

Writing

I have continued writing and am currently working on a new Aalam scene! Here's a look:

In this scene, Aalam takes Terra on a romantic sleigh ride. Who knows what might happen...?

Music

I have decided to add three more songs to the game, specifically theme songs for the LIs. So I will be speaking with the composers soon about those!

Conclusion

I am steadily moving along! Now that I've started writing again I'm hoping to have some meatier updates moving forward, but it's always difficult because I don't want to give too many spoilers.

Thank you all for being so patient!

[prism-empurress]

Siffrin goes to Day Treatment

Hey! Here's some writing drabble where Siffrin...goes to a mental health group like I do! This takes place sorta in an AU? Modern day + colors. Enjoy and give me your thoughts on it, and I might continue!

Siffrin was not permitted to take his dagger with him. Or any wood carving tools. Or the safety pins on his cloak. So, he decided to wear something casual; a black turtleneck with a red and black plaid coat, ripped black jeans, simple socks, simple black gloves and checkered slip ons, as well as his eyepatch. Not wanting to be without a hat, he pulled a red beanie out from his closet and put it on.

They looked at themself in the mirror. They looked relatively like a normal human, they thought. Just a casual, run of the mill…person.

Deep breath in….deep breath out…

It was going to suck to be without his cloak. It wasn't a security blanket, but he found comfort in the weight it had on his form. Being without it…he felt strange. But the plaid coat would suffice. They enjoyed running their fingers across the woolen inside.

This was stupid. He was going somewhere to be social and learn people skills for a few hours. Didn't he do enough of that while on his big adventure?

But…Odile did mention a few concerns she and the others had for him. Like how meek he was when ordering food at a restaurant. He was perfectly fine killing monsters, but when it came to interacting with beings of the same species, he just…froze.

They acted in a few theatre plays, having enjoyed them for as long as they could remember, but that was different than interacting casually. With their fellow family members, they were just fine…

So why is he TERRIFIED when it comes to strangers?

"It's just a few hours, monday through friday." Mirabelle told him, once he got accepted into the day treatment program. "And when you come home, you'll have accomplished something HUGE."

"What." Siffrin retorted.

"You'll have stepped out of your comfort zone into entirely new territory! And when you come home, you'll get to relax!" Mirabelle beamed at them.

"Can't I just be a city protector by killing monsters?" Siffrin groaned.

"Well…there AREN'T any monsters. Not here anyway. Besides, isn't facing your fears the same?"

"With monsters, you protect people from them." Siffrin rolled his eye.

"Siffrin. Just give it a chance." Mirabelle begged.

Groaning loudly, Siffrin shook that past conversation out of his head, and sat outside, waiting for a bus to arrive. He didn't want to do this at all. But he knew it was good for him. His past few jobs ended in disaster, which he blamed himself for. So, it was Mirabelle's idea that he enrolled into a day treatment program for his mental health.

And they weren't going to be in one place all the time. This day treatment program had outings all the time! They went shopping, they went to scenic areas, they engaged in various other activities. And in the building, there was a craft room. Siffrin only got a small peek inside of it, but he saw all sorts of art supplies. Paper, pencils, markers, paints, he could draw to his hearts content in there.

But there was one problem, besides the socializing aspect.

Lunch.

Lunch would be prepared each day, for all the clients to eat.

For as long as Siffrin could remember…he struggled eating most foods. They were able to choke down a majority of it. But it required a lot of effort to get it down and keep it down. Siffrin strongly preferred Bonnie's meals, but as Bonnie was resuming education back in Bambouche, they were unable to cook meals for him that he'd be able to bring with him to group.

Isabeau came up with the idea to bring simple, easy to prepare meals with him. Stuff like 3 minute mac and cheese in a cup, ramen, oatmeal, a sandwich…stuff that didn't require a lot of fuss or preparation to make. But Siffrin said it wouldn't be a big deal, he can eat meals like everybody else, he doesn't want any special treatment.

If they could just get through lunch, then the rest of the day… they could either be outside and birdwatch, or head to the craft room and draw, or participate in the day's outing once everybody had finished their lunch and cleaned up. The outings seemed exciting, but those were rarely in the mornings.

A bus pulled up, the one Siffrin had been expecting. The door opened noisily, making him grimace, but he stepped up to it and got inside, sitting near the front. Nobody else was on the bus, just him and the driver.

The driver smiled warmly at Siffrin, as the door closed.

"Hello, Siffrin. I'm Josephine."

"Hey." Siffrin spat out clumsily, adjusting his hat.

"First day at group, right? I know you're probably nervous, but it'll be a good time, I promise."

Siffrin smiled sheepishly, as the bus began to move.

"There's five other clients you can talk to if you want. Most of them are older, but I think a couple of them are around your age."

"That's nice." Siffrin said quietly.

"In the mornings we talk about various subjects. Coping mechanisms, for example."

"Well uhm…I usually wear a cloak, but…" Siffrin held out part of his jacket, "This is the next best thing. It's soft."

Silence. Siffrin breathed a little easier… but there was a knot in his stomach for what was to come…

[mcyt-daycare]

Bel's How To: Hiring

Okay, recap. Step one is the resume/availability, aka who are you, do you have the skills we need, and when are you usually busy/have consistent commitments. Those get reviewed, (and for places with more high-risk positions like daycares (there are smols and we protect the smols from jackasses), there are background checks. Mostly those consist of 'are you who you say you are, have you been to jail/what for, are you a decent bloke or a wrong'un, etc. etc.'

Once that's done and you have in fact met the basic requirements, step two is the interview! People on paper can sound a lot cooler and better than they are in real life, escpecially if the stuff on paper is stuff they're giving you. The interview is there to make sure that the person is 'a good fit for the workplace' aka not insufferable. There is an element of dressing to impress, because that demonstrates that you care about the opinions of the people already working there enough to pretty up.

Once you've aced the interview, there will be more deliberation on the employer's end, mainly 'do we like them, are they chill, how are we feeling'? Then the employer will either (depending on how large the comapny is) ask you back for another interview (big company means many many applicants) or say yes!

However! Yes does not mean you're hired. Yes means yes, we'd like you to work for us, here's an offer. The offer will outline things like pay, working hours, training time, duties, all the stuff you need to know before you walk in the door. If you accept the offer, you write back (usually emails) and tell them yes too.

Then you come in for training. If you don't get training before you start a job, your bosses are very probably trash. Nobody comes in knowing exactly how to do a job, even if they've done a hundred jobes like this job. Every little system is slightly different. Training is important.

The amount of time spent on training will vary from business to business, but once training is over, you're onto the probabtionary period! You are essentially a full on member of the business, but legally, it's a trial run. This is a 'just in case' kind of deal, and you might not see some benefits from the job until after it's over. The general rule I've seen is that probation lasts 90 days, but some are longer some are shorter.

And that's my baby basics on the hiring process! I can also talk about the difference between part-time, full-time, and contracted work; general organization and how to run a businesss; and manager stuff.

Hope this all helps (wow that's a lot of words)!!

-Bel

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! To the pinned post it goes so I don't loose it lol! <3

[authorautumnbanks]

A Thousand Days With You (12)

Series Master List

Suguru stifles a yawn as Manami discusses the day's schedule.

Meet with the peons and reinforce that their duty is to bring monkeys to the shrine for their money or curses. They have been slacking in their role lately and need to be reminded of their value, which is less than dirt.

Meet with one of the sponsors for the shrine this afternoon after he's had lunch. He forgets the name. Not that it matters. All monkeys look the same to him.

And prepare for the attack on Jujutsu society. He'll need to schedule some time to stop by Jujutsu High. If he can convince Okkotsu Yuta to join his cause, there will be no need for him to waste his curses. And if he can't convince the newest special grade, then he'll just continue with his plan to kill him and take Rika.

"Geto-san!" a man with shit brown hair shouts, running down the corridor.

Suguru's lips twitch before morphing into a smile. "Ah.. Monkey-san, what can I do for you?" It's far too early for him to be dealing with monkeys. Who let this man into the shrine at this time? In the meeting today, he'll make sure to remind everyone that no unauthorized vermin should be approaching him without an appointment.

Perhaps he should kill a follower or two for their incompetency.

The man falters. "Mori. It's Mori."

"That's what I said." Suguru stuffs his hands into his long sleeves. "How can I help you, Mori-san?"

"Actually, if I may," Manami cuts in. "Mori-san has a scheduled meeting with you this afternoon to discuss the lack of payments."

Mori's face flushes red. "Yes. Yes. I have plans on resuming payments. But this is more important. My girlfriend has been bewitched."

Suguru swallows the sigh. "Bring your girlfriend in for cleansing, then."

"It's not on her…that bastard probably was on her the other night. He was far too smug. And he did something to me, I know it!"

Suguru glances at Manami from the corner of his eye, before snapping his attention back to Mori. "Please explain fully. This will add to your bill."

Mori jerks his head. He reaches into wrinkled pants and pulls out his phone. "I took a picture of that demon. Gojo Satoru, he's been all over my girlfriend. Higurashi Kagome. All over her like a curse."

Satoru?

Suguru takes the phone and blinks. Satoru is standing pretty close to this Kagome.

"Where was this taken?" It doesn't look like the outside of Satoru's penthouse.

"Kagome's apartment. I waited for her to come back home. We had a disagreement earlier that day regarding our lack of dates. We went out once and everything was going fine and then that brat. He had dark spiky hair, tripped and spilled my drink all over me. Which would have been fine, but that bastard, Gojo, came over and bewitched Kagome. He even offered to take her home in front of me! And when I tried to go after her, I couldn't move. It was like something was pushing me back, causing me to trip over myself." Mori sucks in a breath. His whole body trembles. "I know he fucked her. I just know it. She looked so beautiful that night and he…there's no way he didn't trick her into coming inside."

Suguru blinks. One date? Is this monkey stupid? He must be.

"Perhaps I should stop by and personally heal your…girlfriend. Kagome, was it?"

Mori nods. "I can write out her address and the times she normally comes back home." Mori takes the clipboard and pen from Manami and jots down the information. "The only way to get her away from that man is to kill him. He's evil. Needs to be exorcized."

Suguru's face hardens. The only one dying here is this vermin. He snaps his fingers right as Mori hands the clipboard over. Three fly heads swarm Mori and grab a hold of his face.

"Do you mind if I hold on to this?" he asks, waving the phone. Suguru sends the picture to himself.

Higurashi Kagome.

She's beautiful, he'll give her that. But what is it about her that has Satoru so interested?

"I- I kinda …" Mori's face stretches as the fly heads tug harder. "Something.. something is wrong."

"Mhmm," Suguru hums. "The only evil I see here is you." He opens an app and sends money over to himself. It's the least Mori can do right before he dies. Someone should be paid for the labor of cleaning up this mess.

The fly heads tug one more time and Mori lies in a puddle of his own blood. Suguru's lip curls. He pulls out his disinfectant and sprays himself down.

Disgusting.

"According to this, she should be home early this evening unless she has something else to do."

Suguru perks up and takes the paper. "Perfect. I'll have to pay her a visit. It's not like him to waste time on a monkey…besides that student of his." He shakes his head. "Mori's passing has left me with a great deal of hunger. Are there any snacks ready?"

Manami laughs. "I know the perfect snack for this occasion."

Suguru rolls his shoulders back as he approaches the door. This should be the address. He doesn't sense Satoru nearby.

Good. He raises his fist to knock, but the door swings open.

Oh.

Ohh.

"Are you here for an energy massage?" Kagome asks. Her black hair is down and curls at the ends. Her green turtleneck sweater dress is modest and somehow not. His eyes travel down the length of her. "Hello?" She waves a hand in his face.

"I'm sorry. I got distracted by how beautiful you are." He smiles and stuffs his hands into his dark jeans. Normally he'd wear his robes, but he wants to get a sense of who this Kagome is without Satoru around. And dressing down puts people at ease unless they are visiting the shrine.

Kagome blushes. "Umm thanks. But you're here for an energy massage, right? I normally do them at the school, but I'll let it go this time since your energy is all twisted up. Come in…what's your name?"

"Geto Suguru, but you can just call me Suguru." There's something about her that he can't put his finger on. Whatever it is, she doesn't have cursed energy.

Is that why Satoru is so interested?

She smiles and crooks her finger for him to follow. He closes the door behind him. His eyes drop to her ass.

Make that another reason why Satoru is interested in her.

Suguru slides his shoes off. He's not so uncouth as to wear his shoes inside. So, this is the woman that monkey was convinced is his girlfriend? Frankly, he doesn't see why she even gave that thing the time or day.

"How does this work? I've heard others talk about it," he says, lying through his teeth as he takes a seat next to her on the couch.

Kagome holds out her hands for him to take. She crosses her legs. "Just try to relax. If it hurts, let me know and I'll stop. It affects Satoru and Kento way differently than everyone else." She blows out a breath. "I need to ask Satoru about that. He only likes his done in private and Kento is adamant about never having another one. Everyone else is fine, though."

Suguru nods his head as though he understands. This isn't going how he envisioned the meeting going, but he's curious as to what this energy massage entails. Her energy is different from his. At least she isn't like those vermin. Something about her feels pure. A breath of fresh air in a world of curses. He needs to know more about her.

And if he's lucky, maybe he can convince her to join his cause.

"Okay, just close your eyes."

He humors her and sucks in a breath. What the hell? His breath quickens. His cock twitches, rising to half-mass.

Oh shit.

Suguru's eyes snap open. His body is on fire. At least it feels that way with how his blood thrumming in his veins. "Kagome," he says, voice slightly strained. His pupils must be dilated. He's close to coming in his pants. What the fuck was that? That's an energy massage? He bites down on his lip, drawing blood.

Shit. The things he wants to do to her right now.

"Hmm?" She opens her eyes and blinks. "You've got that same crazed look Satoru gets…" Her brows pinch together.

He blows out a breath. Her hands are so small in his.

"Does it hurt?" She leans forward.

"N-no," he says, wincing slightly. Did he just stutter?

"You're feverish!" Kagome takes her hands back and places one on his forehead. "Do you need to lie down?" She glances down. "The couch is a bit small for you, though. You can lie in my bed if you want until you feel better." Kagome stands and grabs his hand.

He needs to get out of there. Needs to get back to his place. The last thing he needs to do is follow her to her bedroom. Suguru squeezes his eyes shut. Why won't his legs cooperate? This was not a part of the plan!

"Kagome…I'm fine. I just need to get going, is all."

"Absolutely not," she snaps. "You look like you're going to fall over." She opens the door and leads him over to the bed. "Now lie down." She lets go of his head and pushes against his chest. Suguru sucks in a breath as he lies down on the bed. The sheets smell like her and…He turns his face, pushing his nose closer to the sheet. Smells like Satoru.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks, turning his head to the side.

"Working. Will you be there tomorrow? I know everyone's been so busy with back-to-back missions. I still haven't been able to meet everyone yet." She huffs. "There's a whole other school and I haven't been able to meet them either."

"I might stop by if I have time," he breathes. His fingers twitch. He really, really needs to get back home. "Let me take you out tomorrow for dinner." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "I'll need your number."

Kagome squints. "I'm not sure…you're a coworker."

"Not really," he says breezily. "I haven't been affiliated with Jujutsu High in a long time. Though I still help with curses when I can."

"Oh." Kagome bites her lip. "One date wouldn't hurt then." She takes his phone and puts her number in. "I'll be back to check on you." A phone rings. Kagome glances at the door.

"Expecting a call?" He takes his phone back and blows out a breath.

"It's probably Satoru."

Suguru grits his teeth. "You should get that then…. Can you do me a favor?"

Kagome nods her head.

Damn. He wants to lean forward and kiss her. She looks so…this was a bad idea. Coming here. He should have sent someone else to gather intel.

"Can you not tell Satoru about this?" He motions his hand, gesturing to him and her. "About us. He likes to play a lot of tricks."

"Tricks?" She presses her lips together. "I can see that, though it's usually in good nature."

Suguru keeps his face blank. The phone rings again.

Kagome sighs. "Just get some rest before you head out." She turns and walks away, closing the door behind her.

Suguru blows out a breath and reaches down to readjust himself. Holy fuck. He glances at the window. He needs to go, like five minutes ago. Suguru slides out of the bed. His face is warm. Hot. Each step is harder than the last one. All he wants to do is strip off his clothes and jerk off.

He hisses. He's never been this turned on before. And she gives those away so freely? Anger swells in his chest. Who the fuck else got one? Satoru and Nanami? Who else? Suguru doesn't like to kill his fellow sorcerers, but he might have to change that rule if it comes down to it. He opens the window and glances back. She'll understand.

He can't stay here.

He summons a curse that can fly and hops on. "Move faster," he commands it. His cock is aching. The faster he gets home, the better. Suguru closes his eyes. He can still feel her shimming under his skin. So sweet. Intoxicating. Her scent is locked in his memory now.

That was Higurashi Kagome, huh?

He opens his eyes and hops off the curse. His hands shake as he unlocks the door to his apartment. He tosses his clothes off, nearly ripping them. There's no time to make it to his bedroom or to the bathroom. He leans back against the door, not even bothering to lock it behind him. His hand wraps around his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as he grips his cock tighter, working it over and over. "Fuck, Kagome," he breathes, as his orgasm washes over him. He wants to sink into Kagome's heat, but it's too soon.

Too soon for that, but in time, he will have her right where he wants her…

Wait.

He glances down at the mess in his hand and then down at his feet. His mind screeches to a halt. No way. There is no way. This can't be happening.

His shoes. He left his shoes!

***

A/N: This chapter wasn't even supposed to come out today but I was so inspired by Erakubi's fanart on Tumblr that I couldn't stop writing lol.

There weren't any questions for A Thousand Days, but I did find the comment about how most harems are done pretty interesting. To me, it is important that Satoru, Kento, and Suguru build a relationship with Kagome individually and as a group. And also seeing how their relationships evolve with one another. I think a lot of the reverse harems we see on tv aren't really harems because the girl ends up with one dude.

So for me, it's important that everyone is building a relationship. Though poor Kento. Satoru and Suguru are going to bully that man, but he secretly likes it so it's okay.

Hopefully no one minds that this fic will be just as long as How To Tame. We still haven't even touched on the Demon realm because Satoru has been very...very needy.

Stay safe. Take your vitamins. Drink your water. And keep refilling your well! I hope your week is going well!

[olderthannetfic]

I've seen a couple of anons ask about RCDart, and since it's now internet history, let me put my hyperfixation to use. Sorry for the long post.

BTW, you guys can still check their blogs using Wayback Machine if you want to get an opinion about the whole thing just by looking at what RCDart themselves used to post, rather than being stuck with the memes. One is rcdart, and their NSFW one was rtitties.

Anyways, they used to be really famous and beloved on Tumblr, especially in the Marvel fandom. Their art was quite good, very late 2010s style, but that's what was considered cool on this hellhole back then.

Then, all throughout 2016, their style worsened significantly, but there was no critique that stuck because Rory (RCDart's name) would just get pissed and use the fact that they were going to Cal Arts to call others stupid for not liking it. All their drawings became very stereotyped, and not in a good way either.

The main critiques they were receiving regarded how they depicted Mexican women and trans men:

Rory depicted Maria from The Book Of Life as a woman with a lot of thick body hair, as well as having a mustache. People complained that it was a representation of bad stereotypes regarding Mexican women, but Rory didn't listen and said that they were adopted from Mexico, so they could do whatever they wanted.

Their most infamous character was trans!Steve Rogers, which a lot of trans men complained about, both in call out posts and to Rory personally. The issue was that Rory would draw Steve with very big breasts and a super tiny waist, put him in feminine clothes and lingerie, and would write posts about how they wanted him to have the biggest breast size that exists, called him stuff like bimbo, slut, etc, talk about how he didn't mind saying he had a pussy. Trans guys came forward and told them that their obsession for Steve's genitalia was borderline fetishistic and causing them to experience dysphoria. Rory's responses to this were always non-apologies.

If I remember correctly, there were also people bringing up the fact that they would draw Sam Wilson as a minstrel show character, but I don't think this was brought up until much later.

After this, it's a bit difficult to say what happened. They posted one last time in December 2016, and that was about it. I initially thought that what drove Rory out of Tumblr were the callout posts, but they all seem to have been written way before December. My best guess is that people began meme-ing that drawing of Steve and Tony holding hands, and Rory didn't want to deal with it.

They still used Twitter, it's where they posted the infamous Jim Crow drawing of Star Wars Finn and the equally infamous drawing of Kylo Ren, and there people didn't really stand for that drawing of Finn. Rory posted an apology, but people were aware of how they'd do things (apologize publicly and resume doing what they were sorry for as soon as things quieted down) and didn't take it seriously, so their Twitter was gone in a couple of months too (this was early 2018, so they probably deleted everything at once).

This is pretty much it. If you're still on the fence about the "is it transphobic, is not not" question, I advise you use Wayback Machine to see for yourself and make your own opinion.

--

[contentexplorer]

Hello Tumblr

Well, I am one year old.

After watching Dragon Ball Super SuperHero and letting my curiosity lead me to this place known as Tumblr last year, I can say it has been a fun and inviting experience to be on this platform. I've never had this kind of interactive and social outlet ever in my life. My creativity and ideas developed or were expressed in ways I never thought I was capable of doing; my discovery of all these talented artists, writers, opinions, everything I find on Tumblr has me feeling excited, attentive, and more curious each time I'm online. And all the support, likes, reblogs, and comments from all you wonderful people just make it worthwhile. It truly has been a blast of a year to be on here. : )

So that's why it saddens me that I will be inactive following the new year of 2024. : (

I've been considering this course of action for a while, and I've fully decided to go through with this.

Allow me to explain: The bottom line is stuff has come up. I don't feel comfortable to specifically state what that 'stuff' is, but I can assure you all that it's nothing life-threatening or life-shattering. Situations have arisen for me, and honestly, they're the kind of problems that I could ignore and still be fine. But that way of responding just doesn't sit well with me. I have to deal with them, so the issues won't build up over time and bite me back in the future. Unfortunately, that requires of me to cut my time here.

I wish to say that I'll return and resume my activity, but even I can't guarantee that. My process, if you will, will be of me accomplishing each obstacle, but once done, they'll lead to more handling of their consequences, both positive and negative. Coming back here: I just don't know.

But in case I don't return, I want to say something: When I started my account I had no intention of making posts or interacting with anyone. I just wanted to see what you guys were writing/making about Dragon Ball (The K18 material, TBH), like it, and have some asks of my own. But thanks to the suggestions and informative answers from @fantasyrecolors / @thefantasylife (you're the best), I put more effort into distinguishing myself from a bot to an actual person.

I figured I would repost stuff I liked and write the occasional, original post about anything on my mind, never having ambitions of being popular or affecting the Dragon Ball Tumblr community. But when I posted my Android 18 Not You Meme, you guys liked it and that just made me feel so appreciated. It was just an idea I had which I wanted to put out there. That inspired me to be more involved in this Dragon Ball Community. You see, I'm a dork, but I've always been one solo. I never had anyone to ask their opinions or say to them I enjoy their fan-work about a property we both enjoy, and vice versa. But as I continued to settle and develop my blog, I just kept finding so many incredible individuals here with their fabulous art, engaging stories, intriguing takes, and hilarious jokes. And these people/you guys took time to see and support what I brought to the table. Even beyond the Dragon Ball series. I felt inspired and motivated by that to keep doing what I could to support and join this rad community.

And I mean where to start with the list of creatives here:

-Dragon Ball Meta/Ultra Dork

-SweetEscapeArtist

-LongMonthArtist

-IncognitoMan1-2-3-4

-Chestnut Island/xfadedmemoriezx

-NiccoloYo

-Certified Krillin Stan

-Neterukuroino

-Everyone's Tea Room

-FuturisticBouquetdeer-451f4dcf

-DeadlyBeautyZ

-Koine Kid

I know Tumblr isn't a perfect social media platform with all its faults, but these people and many, many more made Tumblr an awesome playground to be in.

You all made my time here wonderful and jaw dropping. You guys make Dragon Ball fun. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

I won't delete my account. I love this blog too much to see it all gone in a flash, the same unfortunate fate to fellow comrade Certified Krillin Stan. I'll just leave my blog here and step back from the Tumblr website; the most I'll do is just view (rarely) what's new. There may be a chance I could fully return when DB Daima rolls around, but no guarantees. I hope how I continue in my future will lead me back here to keep supporting this section of the DB community and any other cools guys I see here; possibly return with more resources/skills to do more for this group and my account than I could do now. I do hope so.

Until then, Keep spreading that K18 Love, Let your Creativity Roam Free, Keep Supporting Each Other, and above all else, Have A Great 2024 Everybody.

[moraygrotto]

Heya! Would you be up for writing a fic about Idia chugging too much soda when playing his games which makes him super burpy until his stomach feels a little too heavy and gassy for him to play?

yushhh; filling this with idiа x reader !

~

"MmmmMMM! Fuck yeah!" Idia dropped his controller into his lap, then flopped down onto the sofa, kicking his legs up into the air.

As you walked into the room, you were greeted by his upside-down face, which blushed at once upon catching sight of you. On his gaming TV, his character stood idly next to an opened treasure chest.

"Oh!" Idia cheeped, looking sheepishly up at you. "Heya. Your work done?"

You nodded. "Yeah. How's your game going?"

"GREAT!" he burst out, picking up the controller and sitting up cross-legged. "I just beat this dungeon, the same one I mentioned earlier how people online are FUMING over the difficulty. Heheh, sniveling fuckin' noobs..." He caught himself mid-snicker, then looked up at you. "I can switch to co-op mode once I get back to home base, if you wanna—"

"No, no," you replied. "That's alright; you seem like you're in a good groove. Besides, I don't know if I'd have the energy—" On the table next to the couch, you spotted a six-pack of cola with two cans missing. "May I?" you said, gesturing to it.

"Oh, yeah," said Idia, "go right ahead." He licked his lips. "Actually, can you sauce me one too? This victory deserves a toast!"

Detaching two of the cans, you caught yourself before telling him you'd be pleased to share it with him. Even the smallest flirting could send Idia spiraling into a deeply flustered mood, and you didn't want to punctuate his current glee with anything else.

Sinking down next to him, you passed him one of the two cans of cola, which he cracked open and drank from at once. After a moment, you realized he was going for the whole can, pale throat bobbing with gulp after gulp. Finally, he shook a few last drops out onto his tongue, before setting the empty can down next to the sofa.

There were two others next to it, alongside a half-full bag of hot chips. You weren't sure why you had noticed neither these, nor how Idia's belly was pudged slightly out beneath his skinny long-sleeved T-shirt.

"Alright," he cheered, "let's goooo!" He turned to glance at you. "You good just watching?"

"Uh-huh," you said. "Mind if I get a little closer, or will that impede your gaming?"

"Huh? No, I don't think so."

With this permission, you sidled up next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and snaking one arm around his side.

"Ohmigosh," he began muttering in his talking-to-himself voice. "Totally getting cuddled while gaming right now. Like, every gamer's dream. Okay, this is fine; it'll make me better, not worse."

Under your fingers, as Idia clicked a button to resume his game, you could feel his belly rumbling.

Seeming to slip quickly back into the headspace, Idia muttered to himself about the game he was playing, making note of various features and cursing at enemies.

"Alright, I doooon't think this puzzle is gonna be too hard; nope; it's definitely in the last room with the... yeah... Uh-huh— gURRP!"

His bony shoulder hitched slightly beneath your head as a loud belch popped out from between his open lips. You stiffened a bit, expecting him to be embarrassed.

"Oh, alright, guard the key," he continued to mutter, as if nothing had happened at all. "I'll just beat your ass into the ionosphere, no big deal; heheh, yeahhhuRP!" His stomach sloshed at this, and he quickly reached down into the bag of chips beneath him to stuff a few into his mouth.

Only now that you detached yourself from him and let your hand trail across his bony spine, did he seem to remember you were there. "Ohshitohfuck," he said between crunches. "I'm making a slob out of myself while you're watching me—"

"I don't mind!" you interjected at once. "I like seeing you this relaxed."

He gulped, blushing softly. "You're right, huh," he said. "I don't let myself chill out like this around very many people. Thanks for putting up with me, I guess."

"No problem whatsoever," you said, stroking up and down his back. Hearing the contents of his stomach churn loudly, you offered a firm pat.

Idia's eyes bulged outward as a strangled "Hngrk!" sounded from his throat, before a monstrous, guttural burp poured upward into his closed mouth. His cheeks ballooned up near the end, and he blew it out the corner of his pale blue lips. "Oof," he said, sharply averting his eyes, "uh—"

"Dude," you interrupted, before he could go on. "That was great. I didn't even know burps like that could come out of you."

Idia let out a tense sigh. "No way," he whispered, "Noway noway. I can't believe they like my burps. I've never gotten any compliments over voice chat before."

"Well, that one sounded incredible," you said, even though you knew he didn't like people responding to his self-talk. "Here," you said, reaching over to the depleted six-pack. "Got room for more?"

"Fuck yeah, I do!" he chimed. "You know I have a second stomach for gamer fuel."

Smiling, you passed him another can, and he opened it to take a sip before setting it down in his lap. As he continued his game, his words were interspersed with belches once more, but it seemed this time as if he were really talking to you when he explained his various maneuvers and strategies. Now and then, he paused to suck down more soda, occasionally following a loud gulp up with a satisfied burp.

"Hey," he said after shaking out the last dregs of the can, "could you pass me another?"

"Sure," you said, removing the final cola. "How does your tummy feel?"

"Rrph— Fine. I just wanna keep going."

Obediently, you passed it to him, and watched him mechanically set his empty drink down on the floor and replace it with the next one in his lap.

He drank with a focused ferocity, taking large swigs in brief pauses from his game. About halfway through it, he glanced at you, and blinked. "Hey," he said, "you haven't touched the can of soda you took."

It was then you realized that all of your attention had been on him, and you had forgot to even open it. "You're right," you said, and cracked open the tab. "Don't mind if I do," you quipped over the sound of fizz. "Get back to your game, now. You're in the middle of a quest; don't let me distract you."

As Idia resumed playing, you tried a sip of the cola. It was a foreign brand that he had ordered online, and the taste was just to the left of familiar on your tongue. It was strange to think that four and a half cans of it now bubbled inside of Idia.

"Rrgh—" he grunted a few minutes later. He had encountered a boss, but he wasn't spouting his usual babble throughout the fight.

"Hey," you interjected, "Idia, what's the matter?"

"Matter? No, I'm—" His character got hit on the head, and he frowned. "Nothing's the matter; I'm fine."

"Hey," you repeated, "if you're not comfortable, just pause the game."

"No, I'm fine; I can't— hic—"

The boss enemy dove forward, and Idia tried to sidestep its movement; all of a sudden, a brief gurgle coiled up from his stomach, and the loudest burp you had ever heard from Idia burst forth. Simply put, it was gorgeous. His belly muscles rippled; his bony chest lurched forward; his hands seized at the controller. It seemed entirely out of his control, too, like his body was nothing but a vessel for the soda bubbles now bursting cleanly free up his gullet. The sound of it almost dazed you.

Idia, on the other hand, looked sour. "FUUUCK!" he squealed, and only then did you notice the quiet game-over music coming from the TV.

He slammed his controller down and flung himself backward atop the sofa. "Stupidass overpowered garbage-tier game design boss fight—"

"Hey, hey—" you tried to say. "Idia, calm down—"

"You can't console me," he said, muffled as he slapped both palms over his face. "If any enemy is so powerful that you can't even burp while fighting them, then it's just logic that they shouldn't be in the game."

"Idia, my love," you said, "the game autosaved beforehand, remember? You can just restart the battle, with no interruptions this time."

Pouting fiercely, Idia reached down to the half-finished can of soda still in his lap, and chugged the remainder all at once. Crushing it in one skeletal hand, he wiped the back of his mouth with the other, and his scowling lips parted to let up a gurgling belch.

"There you go," you said, unsure how to diffuse his mood. "All fueled up, right?"

"Sure, whatever," he grumbled, and turned to the screen again.

"Here," you said, "before you start up again—" You slid a hand beneath one of his own. "Take a few deep breaths with me."

If it were anyone else, Idia would most likely roll his eyes and mutter a snide refusal, so your heart was warmed to actually see him close his eyes, and draw in a breath in time with you.

His shoulders rose, and just as he was about to exhale—

"Grgglurphhhhhhh..."

"Baby," you said, "you can't even breathe without burping; that's so cute!"

Idia's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"You really crammed yourself full of soda, huh?"

Idia snorted, a blush rising to his cheeks again. "I can't help myself; it's so good."

"I'm not blaming you," you replied. "Can I touch your stomach?"

His gaze dropped to the floor. "Whatever. Go ahead."

Once more, Idia closed his eyes, and let his hands fall to his sides, exposing his body in a way he rarely seemed to do.

Through the thin fabric of his shirt, Idia's soft tummy shifted under your hand like liquid. A gentle prod to the sensitive cleft beneath his ribcage elicited a gurgle, and another gurgle, and more in succession like a meteor shower of sound.

A few gentle belches passed up and hissed through his lips, and after a moment, Idia truly seemed to relax.

"Good boy," you couldn't help but to coo. "Does this feel any better?"

"M-hm," he whimpered. "You really think I'm cute like this?"

"Yes, adorable."

He blinked his eyes shyly open. "Almost makes me wish that weren't the last can, heheh..."

You held up the soda you had been drinking, which was still mostly full. "I mean, there is more."

"That one's yours, though."

The thought of one more drink poured into Idia was far more appealing right now than having the rest to yourself. Suddenly, a devious thought entered your mind. "You can have it," you said, "if you let me hold the can while you drink."

Idia went stiff as a board. "Ohmigod, really?"

"Yeah?"

"For real? You're actually willing to feed me soda?"

You chuckled. "I'm asking."

His blush had spread to every visible inch of skin; he looked on fire, even moreso than usual. "Yeah, um, okay," he squeaked. "You can do that. Just, um?" He took a trembling breath. "Could you, like, praise me while you're doing it? Also, go slowly. I don't wanna choke."

"Yeah, of course!" You reached around to hold him once more, and lifted the can.

"Oh!" tittered Idia. "Right now; okay."

Carefully, you aligned the mouth of the can with his tilted head, pressing it to his lips like a kiss. "Ready, baby?"

He gave an "Mmn" in reply, and you carefully tipped the fluid into him. A drop of it missed, bubbled, overflowed down the corner of his mouth, but you pet his back warningly, trying to urge him to stay still. "It's okay," you said, "we'll clean it up afterwards. Just be good for me, and drink."

His small, constant gulps were interrupted by a voiced sound which must have been some kind of affirmative. You kept stroking his back, over and over the ridge of his spine, careful to keep your hand steady, for if you gave him the slightest pat, you were sure he would burp, and messily interrupt his constant sipping.

"There you go," you soothed. "You're doing a good job."

At this, Idia actually slurped harder at the flow, making audible gulping sounds as he forced it down his throat, and the trickle of overflow thickened by a few drops down his chin.

"Be careful," you chuckled, then let your voice fall back to a flirting tone. "Don't hurt yourself, baby. You're too cute for that; just sip slowly now."

"Mm," Idia grunted.

The angle of the can was quickly nearing ninety degrees, and Idia was drinking obediently, the sound of fizz a soft background to his wet slurps and gulps.

After a while, he gave a noise like a moan.

"Are you okay, baby boy?" you asked. "Tap my thigh twice if no, okay? Otherwise, I want you to chug this whole thing for me."

You took one of his hands, and placed it on your thigh, but Idia continued gulping down, hair cascading down his back and Adam's apple jutting outward as his head tipped back to swallow the last of the cola.

When the can was upside down, you tapped out the dregs with a finger. Weakly, face flushed and belly snarling audibly, Idia licked upward at the drops.

"That's my good boy," you praised, and placed the can down next to its emptied brethren, the latest trophy showcasing just how much Idia's tank could hold.

Jaw trembling, Idia moaned pathetically.

"Don't say a word," you said. "Just let it settle." Carefully, you reached out to caress his belly. It was tight under your fingertips' touch, made noises like a discontented animal while giving the tactile and visual impression of a balloon ready to burst.

Idia was breathing slowly through his mouth.

"That's it," you said, "just relax your throat, stomach muscles, everything. You drank that so well; I'm so proud of you."

You didn't realize, at first, the sound Idia was making, through the incessant clamor of his stomach around its fizzing contents, and the soft music still playing from the TV. Through his open lips, you realized, was rumbling a soft "grrrrrrrphhhhhhhhhfff..."

You leaned in close, rubbing your thumb over the sensitive parts of his belly while you cradled the soft parts in your palm, and at your touch the sound grew louder, deepening into a rolling "urggggggh—"; at the slightest bit more pressure applied, into a hearty "GRURRRRRRP..."

His brow was furrowed; you couldn't tell if he was blissed out by the cola's sweetness, a helpless victim to his own digestive system, or both.

At last, the belch trailed off on a bubbly gurgle, and then a low afterburp passed up through him as he sat completely still.

There was a beat of blank, inert silence, then Idia wheezed a deep breath, doubling over. "Fuck," he said, "Ohhh my god. Holy shit."

"You okay?" you said.

"Yeah! Yeah, urph, I'm great. Holy moly, man; that was... Ahhh..."

You cautiously scooched an inch closer to him. "Was that good enough praise?" you said. "Was it what you were hoping for?"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Idia said, gripping his thighs. "That was INSANE. Uhh, you were perfect, that is."

"Good," you said, and passed him a half-crumpled napkin from the bedside table. "Wanna clean your face off?"

Idia took it from you without looking. "Yeah," he said, and dabbed at his chin. "Oh my god, yeah."

You laughed, and pat his back. "Are you ready to try that boss fight one more time?"

Idia froze, then continued wiping his face. "No," he said. "I will tomorrow. I'm totally outta my groove now. Plus, I'm way too full for that. I think it is officially Idia chill time."

As Idia sat up, you hugged him close, and pecked a kiss atop his sticky cheek. "In that case," you said, "do you want more belly rubs?"

You felt goosebumps form under Idia's sleeve, and he leaned into you. "Urp— Y-yeah," he stuttered. "I'd say yes to that."

[100dayproductivity]

8/100.

Ahh! All the 🤬ing things. I'm starting to get overwhelmed again by all the things. I find that I'm using this blog as a way to get my thoughts organized and less overwhelming. What about you? Does blogging help you? Do you have another place you write stuff down to organize your thoughts?

Right. So further to yesterday's exciting job-related events, I did meet with the contact about a job a mutual friend recommended me for. But I won't be taking it. Basically it pays too little for too many hours too far away to make it worth my while. Given my current hourly rate and schedule, it doesn't make sense for me to take the job. So that's that. On the bright side, my resume is all up-to-date and looks pretty fantastic if I do say so myself. And now I know for sure the opportunity was not a good fit for me and not kicking myself with "what-if"s.

Next.

Day before yesterday's to-do list, with updates:

Figure out what healthy and nutritious food I will consume today ✓

So I did manage to make myself a healthy and nutritious meal two days ago, as well as yesterday, but guess what? I need to make myself a healthy and nutritious meal again today. 😮‍💨 For my kid too, actually. So I'll need to get some fresh produce today.

Wash bed cover my cat puked on 😿🤦🏻‍♀️ ✓

I did wash it AND I even put it in the dryer but omg I again forgot all about it. Have not checked if it dried completely. Hopefully it hasn't been sitting damp in the dryer for the past two days 😮‍💨

Do up invoices! ✓

I did this! Even sent them! Now I just need to remember to remind people to remember to pay me 😮‍💨

Deal with dishes. ✓

Did it. Need to do it again today. Rinse. Repeat.

Deposit cheque.

Roll out knots in leg muscle. ✓

Did it. A lot. But still have massive tight knots all up my leg so need to continue doing this.

Pick up paint primer.

So actually, someone has some leftover primer they can give me for free. I sourced it from our local Buy Nothing group. Do you have one of those where you live? It's a Facebook group for neighbours to exchange unwanted items for free. If there isn't one where you live, I highly recommend you consider starting one. It is a fabulous way to give items a second life and keep things out of the landfill. Be part of the solution!

Do Sun Salutation x10

Did not do this. Not even once.

Take inhaler

I remembered to do this! But I've still got stuff in my lungs so should keep this on the list for a while.

Ok, let's update this Bad Boy.

To-do:

Take bed cover out of dryer.

Deposit cheque. ✓

Pick up paint primer. ✓

Pick up produce, bread, milk, butter, sandwich stuff. ✓

Recurring:

Roll out knots in leg muscle.

Do Sun Salutation x10

Take inhaler

Let's do this! 💪

---

Back from errands, I'm so tired and sleepy now. My plantar fasciitis is flaring up too. I've iced it, now applying heat. I feel like just napping 😴 But I've set the timer for 20 minutes, then I need to:

Clean up disaster in kitchen: empty dishwasher, load dishwasher, clear off table.