#considering I'm usually very easily stressed

[wanderingmind867]

I've done nothing today. I woke up at 4:30 am and just wasted an hour listening to Christmas Music. Although there's nothing wrong with this, I think you can see why I call myself lazy and unproductive when I'm in a bad/self-deprecating mood.

[exhaslo]

Can you do like a God Miguel and devil fem reader, this is my first request so please no hate 😭 Oh yeah AND SMUTTTTT

That man is basically a God, haha. Usually I see this request the opposite way, so this is going to be so much fun!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, teasing, taunting, handsy, oral sex (m receiving), riding, rough sex, dirty talk, doggy style, creampie

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"C'mon, Big Boy. Afraid to show a lil ol' devil like me what a taste of Heaven looks like?"

This was a sight to behold. No one had ever dared to question or even go against Miguel's ruling. There was a reason why the two dimensions were split between Heaven and Hell. There were a whole list of reasons.

One of them, being devils like you.

You gave a wicked smile towards Miguel, the God of Heaven himself, the ruler of all Angels. Hell, the very man whom separated the Angels and Devils. He was one who controlled all. One who could change the course of fate itself.

"What's a Sinner like me to do in order to enter your pearly white gates of Heaven?" You cooed, getting on your knees.

"You have already made your choices in life. You must live with the consequences of your actions." Miguel spoke.

You gave a pout, pressing your lower lip out while pressing your breasts together.

"But, it wasn't all my fault! I'm here to confess my sins and do right. Please, give me a chance? Isn't that what Angels do? Give second chances?" You begged.

Miguel grunted lowly as he shooed his Angels away. They had started to whisper amongst themselves because sadly, you were right. Miguel disliked it when a devil would sway the good hearted with cruel twists of truth.

"You wish to be redeemed? How do you plan on doing so?" Miguel asked. You bit your lower lip, finding his scowl hot,

"I'll do anything."

-------

Miguel sure had you work your way into heaven. As God, he personally oversaw your progress. Every human you helped; everyone good deed you did; everything was in his sight.

Even your advances. You were sly as you did your job. Poking your ass out slightly; accidently having a tit pop out; hell even using the old lollipop trick. You were doing whatever it took to try and sway Miguel in your favor.

"Hm, excellent work. Perhaps I just might consider your arrival into heaven after a few thousand more good deeds." Miguel hummed. You felt your eye twitch,

"Thousand? Isn't there anything more..." You slid your hand down Miguel's chest, "Intense I could do?"

"Have you forgotten who I am?"

"I haven't," You whispered in his ear, slowly lowering your tank top, "I know that you rule over everything. You see everything while no one can see you. You poor stressed God."

"I'm not stressed." Miguel huffed as he glanced around the human world, "I know what you've really been after this whole time."

"Hm? You have?" You cooed, "Then why entertain me?"

"Because even a God gets bored."

In the next second, both you and Miguel were in what looked like a human hotel room. A smile curled upon your lips as you spread your legs on the bed, slowly removing your top. You gave Miguel a seductive look, motioning him over,

"So bored that you'll entertain a devil?" Miguel scoffed,

"So bored that one might say I am stressed." He tried to change the topic, but sighed, "Sometimes even I grow jealous of how easily humans find pleasure."

You raised a brow, your smile growing wider. You sat up, reaching for Miguel. Your hands stroking down his chest as you threw your top across the room.

"Allow me to give you a show then?" You whispered.

Swapping places with Miguel, you proceeded to give him a little lap dance. As you moved your ass against his crotch, you started to take your bra off. For a God like him to entertain a devil like you, oh this was going to be good.

You nibbled against his ear as you took off you pants, revealing no underwear. A chuckle escaped your lips as you glanced down towards Miguel's erection.

"Hm, does mini God wanna play?" You cooed.

"Perhaps I could show you what heaven tastes like after all." Miguel played along.

Oh, that made you wet. You hands were all over Miguel now. You just had to strip him, but slowly. You cute little devil tail twirled as you started to grind against Miguel's white robes. You stroked his face, watching his temptation grow,

"Shall I do all the work?" You whispered. Miguel just smirked,

"Weren't you the one who needed to get into heaven?"

You huffed as you removed his robes. Eyes widening at the sight of his dick. He wasn't a God for nothing. With a lick of your lips, you got on your knees and started to work your magic. You had good deeds to do after all.

"How many deeds if I make you cum?" You hummed with a lick of his tip.

"A hundred."

"Oh? Then I'll have my work cut out."

"It's a good thing stamina doesn't exist for me." Miguel said with a smirk, which made you quiver.

Ignoring that thought for now, you returned to stroking and sucking Miguel's dick. Of course God doesn't have stamina. Even devils and angels had it. Well, at least you were trying to earn his forgiveness and not the other way around.

You moaned lowly as you started to take Miguel deeper. His dick was thick and long. Just the thought of him ravishing you was making you horny. Not to mention the sounds of his grunts was delicious. If only you were a succubus, this would make a fine meal.

"Still waiting to be impressed." Miguel teased.

You felt your eye twitch as you kept sucking. What more did he want? Gasping, you felt his hands on your head as he started to thrust into your mouth. Tears started to form as you tried to breathe through you nose.

"Here's your first hundred." Miguel groaned.

You nearly gagged as Miguel cummed inside your mouth. Moving away, you swallowed what you could, but coughed up the rest. There was so much. Wiping your mouth, you glanced at his still harden erection and chuckled,

"If that's the case, then this will be easy."

--------

"Are you giving up already? What a poor little slutty devil you are." Miguel mocked as you bounced on his cock.

You were drooling as you rode Miguel. His dick fit so nicely inside you, stretching all your walls as you fucked him. His tip hit the far back of your cervix, making you really see heaven in a different light. You had only fucked him for a few minutes and you felt like giving in.

"Is this all Hell has to offer?" Miguel asked. You flinched, feeling yourself about to cum again,

"N-No...J-Just....so...ah~" You whined, jumping down once more only to cum.

"This is why you need my help."

Miguel held your waist and started to thrust up inside you, causing you to moan and squirm. His dick was too much. He was hitting you in all the right places. Gripping your hips, Miguel watched your tits bounce as he fucked you from below.

"Tsk, tsk, this poor little devil wants forgiveness right?"

"Y-Yesh~"

"I'll give it to you. One load at a time."

You shuddered towards his words as he released a heavy load inside you. Gasping, you felt Miguel press you against the bed, entering you from behind. His grip was still tight as he started to pound your pussy.

"Such lewd sounds you're making. Does my dick feel that good?"

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gripping the bedsheets. Miguel chuckled, listening to the sound of his dick slapping into you,

"Can you feel my holy presence inside you? Is this the taste of heaven you wanted so much?"

"Ah~ Mhm~"

You couldn't think. You felt your eyes roll back as you focused on Miguel pounding you. His hot cum just begging to spill before his next load. This was truly paradise.

"So cock drunk that you can't even think. What a slutty devil you are." Miguel hummed, feeling you cum around him, "But you are doing the best deed there is."

"Mhm!" You gasped as Miguel slapped into your gummy walls faster,

"Keep coming to me for your forgiveness and I'll happily give it to your horny pussy." He groaned, cumming once more, "How does that sound?"

"Ah~ Y-Yes~ Yes~" You moaned loudly.

Miguel just chuckled in response, turning you over. You were out of breathe and fucked out. Miguel glanced at your body, watching your devil wings disappear since you had no energy. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his cum leak out of you,

"Don't suppose you want to start a new race? I have unless stamina after all."

You had a long road of forgiveness ahead of you, but you weren't complaining in the slightest.

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I CAN FEEL THE JUDGEMENT FROM ABOVE, BUT WE ALL KNOW I'M GOING DOWN! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[darkestspring]

When possible, I’d love to see a continuation of your yandere conquerors where third wife reader eventually falls pregnant…I’d bet that they’d be obsessively protective.

It was only a few months after you married the three targaryens on dragonstone, unaware of your father's rage back in winterfell over his beloved daughter marrying, your mother wasn't much better but aegon, rhaenys, and visenya tried to not let you stress out too much.

aegon knew before you did, he could tell even the small changes in you, that's why when the maester gave the news, he acted like he was surprised as to not raise suspicions in you. Rhaenys and Visenya had both beamed at you, hands pressed against your not yet swollen belly.

"You must eat, dearest." Visenya pushed the plate closer to you as you pushed it away from you, shaking your head as you pursed your lips.

"No! Aegon said he'd eat with us, I don't want him to be sad that we started without him." You frowned at the eldest of your wives, turning to look at Rhaenys who paused bringing a bite of food to her lips.

"Haaah..." Rhaenys sighed, "Very well, just a moment more." She gave in very easily, leaving Visenya to glare at her.

"No! Not a moment more, dearest, you must eat. You are carrying a child, you must eat, not just for yourself." She fretted over you, moving closer and you all looked up as Aegon entered.

"Aegon! You're here, finally!" You beamed, relieved to see him. He'd been busy with affairs all day (which, unbeknownst to you, was actually him trying to smooth things over with your father.)

Aegon hummed softly, striding towards you and leaning down to kiss you. "Were you waiting for me? What a sweet thing." He cooed at you softly, pulling back with a pleased look in his eyes.

He eyed the already eating Rhaenys and the scowling Visenya with an amused look.

"Finally." Visenya scoffed, turning to you. "Dearest, Aegon in now here, so you must eat."

You huffed, pouting as you stomach finally grumbled. "Yes, yes, I'll eat now. You should eat too, Aegon."

Aegon took his usual spot next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. "i'll eat later, you just eat now, you need food, you're eating for a baby too."

Would it be considered ungentlemanly of him to admit that the knowledge that you carried his baby inside of you sent pleasant shivers down his spine. You were his, lovely little you.

"Dearest." Visenya called out on the other side of you and you paused in your eating to look up at her, blinking.

Visenya leaned down and kissed you, her hands cupping your face.

You pulled back with red cheeks and rhaenys protested.

"That's not fair! I'm the favorite, so I should get more kisses, right dearest?"

Both aegon and visenya scoffed as you stammered out a reply.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes' class is your most difficult, but he's about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: It was a drabble then it weren't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You're not certain. Not at first. But when are you ever confident in anything?

Yet you're assured by the dark curls and vibrant eyes, the slanted brows never devoid of judgment. More than anything, it's his posture that confirms his identity. Professor Holmes is staunch and indomitable even as he browses shelves of antique style pens; crystal, wood, and brass. He considers each as he would every word of a term paper. 

You're doubt turns to what to do next. Do you say hello? Or pretend you don't see him? Would he know either way? You're fairly convinced he can't pick you out of the lecture hall. 

So you do what you do best and fade into the scenery. You trail along the shelves and dip around the other side, putting your attention to the spools of thread, organized in a perfect spectrum of hues. As you mindlessly touch the thread, your mind wanders back around the row.

You would never expect to see the professor there, though honestly, you've never thought of him outside the classroom. You avoid that as much as you can, you stress enough over his unattainable standards. His is the only class which has you below an A. 

You contemplate the silver twine. You've been looking for the very thing and yet the price is much above your budget. All that for some shine? 

You move on, turning around to the balls of wool and needles arranged from thinnest to thickest. Your ears are pricked by the familiar timbre. The professor's voice carries as easily as in the lecture hall. You try not to listen but you can't help the instinctive decipher of each syllable. 

"Are these genuine silver?" He asks, presumably of a passing associate.  

"Um, I'm not sure, sir," the squeaky adolescent reply is met with an impatient sigh. "I work in the back." 

"Work in the back doing what? Sorting stock? Do you not know what you put on the shelves?" Professor Holmes' disapproval is unmistakable.  

His tone make you want to run. It is the same detest wrought into the feedback scribbled in the margins of your assignments. If it isn't perfect, it's not acceptable. 

You should go. You don't have the money to waste on hobbies you don't have time for. Nor do you relish an encounter with the very man responsible for your lack of free time. 

You make sure to walk toward the far end of the aisle and avoid any possible sighting. The very thing you meant to distract yourself chases you from your procrastination. Two days before your paper is due, and you've not even touched the readings due for that week's class discussion. 

📕

You’re barely awake as you claim a seat in the melancholic lecture hall. The coeds are silent, only yawning between slurping from paper cups, or slumping dangerously over the narrow armrests. There’s a dour commiseration in the air; a sort of resignation. 

Papers are handed in and yet the outcome is almost assured; Professor Holmes will surely find at least a dozen reasons to dock marks. Sometimes it seems even the font can draw his ire. Yet, there is more to be done. He will expect a lively discussion before that three-hour block is done and if he doesn’t get it, you will all sweat for it. 

You flutter through your notebook. Unlike your other courses, the paper is crinkled and the writing is erratic. Each week sees you with at least another twenty pages added to the reading list. You don’t understand how anyone can keep up with it all; the work alone is as much as all your other classes combined. 

You jump in your seat as his even-keeled voice rolls through the air. He hardly has to project as his baritone fills the large room. You look up and fumble for your pen. Professor Holmes doesn’t permit devices. The last person caught merely looking at their phone was dropped from the course. 

You chew the end of the pen as he begins his introduction, but not without a sharp remark about your midterm papers. It’s as if he’s already made up his mind that you’ve all failed. There’s no bell curve in this class, just an impossible mountain. 

“To make it simple,” his accent lilts off his tongue, “I’ve decided we will do things a bit differently this week. I will have you sort yourself into groups and each will discuss an assigned article. At the end, we will reconvene and you will nominate a member to present your conclusions. You may use our usual guiding questions for these purposes.” 

You nod and furrow your brow thoughtfully. The idea of splitting into groups is daunting on its own. It’s one thing to put your hand up amid the wide sea of your peers but it’s another to parse yourself down into a smaller group amid strangers. Despite weeks of sitting side-by-side, you don’t really know anyone. They all seemed to have made friends before that and made no effort to find any more. 

“Well, off you go,” Holmes flicks his fingers, “you’ve two minutes to arrange yourselves. I’m no kindergarten teacher, certainly you can figure it out.” 

There’s a low murmur then a lull before anyone moves. You hear the chatter that connects the smaller pairings to each other; aren’t you in my econ class? Oh, you were at the Delta party? You gather your notebook and stand, searching for an in. 

“Um,” you approach the nearest cluster of bodies, “room for one more?” 

It’s as if you’re invisible. You wince and clear your throat. Before you can try again, a deeper ahem comes from behind you. You crane to see over your shoulder. Professor Holmes stands at the end of the row, one brow arched as he crosses his arms. His old-fashioned vest strains as his chest bulges against the buttons. 

“Eh, she’s in need of a group. Have some manners.” 

You’re surprised by his intervention, but grateful. You try to smile but it’s probably more of a pathetic simper, “thank you, professor.” You nod and turn back to the other students. 

“Uh, sorry, yeah, can I tag along?” You ask. 

They shrug, none of them daring to ignore Professor Holmes. You sit at the edge of the group, heat speckling up your back in embarrassment. The others as good as ignore you as they go back to complaining about their papers. 

“I didn’t sleep,” a blond you think is named Ethan mutters, “fucker had me tearing out my hair.” 

“Yeah, I was supposed to go to a Barbie party but I need this class,” a pretty redhead rolls her eyes. 

There’s at least ten other students circled between three rows. You glance around at the others as they bow and chatter in kind. You shuffle your notebook in your lap and lean in, trying to seem involved. 

“Right then, you,” Holmes points to your group, “take Jones et al,” he moves his finger towards the next group, “Halloway,” he continues down the list of readings as silence pervades the space.  

It isn’t until he bids you to start that anyone dares speak again. The professor paces at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, as his longs stride take him from one end to the other. As you watch him, he seems to sense it, and his blue eyes meet your own. He hardly reacts before he puts his attention back to his repetitive route. 

“Alright, so Jones et al,” you redirect your attention as your peers continue their griping over lost sleep and shitty coffee. “So uh, we should go over main arguments first--” 

“Didn’t read it,” Ethan scoffs and two girls giggle. 

“I don’t know how that tight ass thinks we have all day for the stuffy bullshit,” another guy snorts. “Some of us get laid.” 

You blanch and chew your lip. You look around and receive only agitation and indifference. 

“Since you’re such a smarty pants, why don’t you do the presentation, huh?” The redhead chirps, “you always have so much to say.” 

You frown. You only put in what you need to get a decent mark. You’re hoping the discussion grade can save you from your disastrous first assignment. Besides, aren’t you all facing the same foe? Shouldn’t you be allies? 

“Well, we should talk about the article a bit. Did anyone else read it?” You insist. 

You don’t get an answer, only scoffs and sneers. Shoot. You look down at your notebook and shrink into yourself. It’s just like high school. You’re the one building the diorama by yourself until midnight. You’re the one doing all the talking in the class debate. 

You scribble notes in the margins as the other garble on about some party and the new cafe opening up at the Student Centre. You keep a hand on your neck as the heat builds under your skin. You should’ve just stayed on your own, not that you have much of a choice. None of them even want to acknowledge you. 

Professor Holmes calls time and you pop your head up, catching your glasses before they can bounce off your nose. You fix them as the lecture hall hushes and you all twist and turn to see the professor. He walks up the centre aisle and points to the group in the very back. 

“You, come on,” he demands. 

There’s crinkling of paper and scratchy coughs. A guy in a polo sweater stands with a cluster of lined paper in hand. He reads out with fractured syllables as if he can’t make out the writing. Professor Holmes sighs and you glance over at his scowl. He’s not impressed. 

“Right, and beyond the obvious, what were your final reflections? Did you have a single thought about the author’s narrative on the consequences of the railway on colonized communities?” He pauses and waits, tapping his clefted chin. Silence. “Mm, absolutely compelling,” he remarks dryly. 

You gulp as your group fidgets. Holmes jabs a finger at another group, calling out a student by name, “thank you for volunteering.” 

The woman with the buzzcut stands, looking nervous as she peers around her group members. She sways and wets her lips, playing with the ring around her lower lip. She laughs nervously before she begins, pausing and umming and ahhing. 

“Enough rambling,” Holmes shakes his head and turns toward your group. Your eyes go wide as the rest peek over at you. You rise as the professor stands just at the end of the rows. “Ethan, you seemed to be doing most of the talking, let’s hear it.” 

Ethan grimaces and sends you a look. He shakes his head. You shrug. You don’t know what to do. You offer your notebook and Holmes clucks. 

“I’m sure he can do it himself, he’s a big boy,” Holmes insists, “let’s hear your take on Jones et al. They have some rather interesting arguments about the cultural significance of the Silk Road, did they not?” 

Ethan exhales and stands, a tick in his jaw as he faces the professor. You chew your cheek as he stutters, “well, what we were talking about was that... er, the Silk Road... um...” 

“Yes, yes, you made some rather intriguing arguments about the Gammas, didn’t you? And how you have so many important things to do, eh? Well, Ethan, if you can’t keep up, you don’t have to bluster,” Holmes reproaches, “your boasting does suggest incompetence over importance.” 

Ethan chokes. There’s a low titter of laughter from further back as the rest of your group stares at their hands. You hug your note book and lower your head as well. 

“Come on, then,” Holmes wags his fingers and calls your name, “stand up. Let’s hear something coherent.” 

“Oh, uh,” you lift your chin as Ethan falls into his chair with a snarl. You get up and focus on your notebook. You swallow tightly before you get your vision to clear, “typically when we think of the, er, Silk Road, er, we fixate on, uh, on uh, on the movement of goods such as dyes and, and, and rice...” you can’t help your stuttering. You just know the professor will have your throat next, “but Jones et all argue that, ummmm, um, the movement of peoples and contact between various cultures is just as... as important--” 

“Ah, yes, someone has done their work,” Holmes proclaims with a clap. 

“All of you. One thousand words on your groups assigned article by the end of the week. You may drop them off at my office.” 

“What?” Several students burst out in shock. 

“It is an individual effort, yes? Not a group project. You have until Friday at 6pm.” 

“Professor,” a woman whines from the back. 

“Would you like a thousand more words?” He turns to face the lecture hall completely, “no, alright then. I can be generous. You may go early so that you can catch up on your readings.” 

He smirks and tilts his head smugly. He spins on his heel and strides down the low steps to the front podium. You glance down at your notebook and slowly flip the cover. 

“Fucking browner,” Ethan growls. 

[lostinforestbound]

The fic is going well! I'm on a roll and after I'm done I'll be searching for a Beta-Reader! For now, to tie you all over:

Romantic Zevlor Headcanons

This sad old man is incredibly traditional in the sense of romance. He plans dates to the very hour, brings flowers, cleans himself up nicely, kisses the top of his partners hand and offers his arm as they walk; the perfect man to date! He's also very experienced.

I would say he's not shy about romance, but definitely reserved. He didn't have time for it once he became a Hellrider, it pulled all his focus in. After his oath is broken and he got cast out from Elturel with the other refugees, that also pulled his focus away from even considering a relationship.

When everything is finally calm, he doubts that anyone would even want him in this stage of his life. He's an old, tired man and he made his peace with it. Then his partner comes along and throws him in for a loop! He starts to feel alive again.

He plans dates out strategically, but would not stress out if something doesn't go according to plan. He can easily go with the flow. If his partner is stressed out however, he would give them a kiss on the forehead and say something along the lines of "It is all right, my love. Let us try something else."

Quality time is important to him. His favorites are long walks! The beach, forest, a meadow, some hills, a hike, he loves to get moving! And it's even better with a partner where they can talk about anything and everything while in the privacy of nature. It's wonderful! If his partner prefers to stay home though, he's completely content with sitting by the fire.

His main love language is absolutely acts of service! He loves taking care of his partner and doing things for them. He makes food for them, patches their clothes, and makes sure their things are organized the way they like it. This man also gives some of the best massages!

Gods he loves cuddling. He adores it, actually! After a long day, he looks forward to going to bed with them the most. It calming and honestly helps him sleep much better. He's slept alone a lot, and he missed having another body next to him.

Zevlor has been through quite a bit, so of course he would have nightmares about a multitude of things! Especially regarding his fuck up in the Shadow Cursed Lands. He doesn't quite wake up in a cold sweat since he's used to them, but they still startle him awake sometimes. He's not afraid to ask for help from his partner if nights are a struggle for him.

On that point, he's a fantastic communicator! If anything is bothering him, even if he's embarrassed, he will discuss it with his partner. He personally does not like being kept in the dark about what his partner is feeling, so why would he do that to them? It benefits no one. If his partner needs more time to figure out their words, he will absolutely give it, but there is no hiding anything from him.

His kisses are usually gentle, and he loves holding his partner's face in his hands while doing so! He's incredibly tender in everything he does involving them, but he also loves to tease! When he kisses the top of their hand, he'll kiss up their arm to their neck and eventually their face, littering pecks all over. Bonus points if his partner is ticklish, he enjoys their laughs and giggles as it brings him genuine joy.

If his partner is a tiefling or a tailed dragonborn, he absolutely would link his tail with theirs in a private setting. Usually he prefers to have his tail out of the way, especially in public, but when it's just the two of them he uses his tail pretty freely. This is because he finds tail-holding very intimate.

He doesn't mind public display of affection in other ways though! Hand holding, wayward pecks, sitting close, hugs, he loves it all. Sitting in his lap may get him flustered though, especially if his partner is very forward in their affection! Sometimes he feels as though his heart will give out with how fast it beats (maybe he's too old for this after all).

Zevlor isn't used to being taken care of at all, usually he's the one doing all the caring. When his partner starts doing it his head practically reels in shock, not expecting it to feel so nice. He doesn't outwardly ask for it but brushing his hair and massaging the tension out of his hands is something he adores. His partner always receives a 'thank you' kiss.

He knows how to dance, which can surprise people! Slow dancing is his preferred style, and he'll bring his partner in for a slow sway when they're alone. No music is needed in these intimate moments, his lover is all he wants anyways.

[dunmeshistash]

I can’t find it now, but you had a post about Kabru being high-masking, and you said you didn’t think he was, which is completely fair! I had a different opinion as someone who is high-masking AuDHD and wanted to share (but of course now I can’t find the post 9_9)

Personally, I read Kabru as being high masking autistic, with one critical difference between us: he’s an extrovert. I’m actually more like Milsiril than Kabru - I collect/make dolls, I’d rather be at home than anywhere else, I’ve been called creepy and weird and gloomy for all of those things, but I also learned how to mask relatively early on, so most people don’t ever get to see that side of me. For me it’s a lot of work and energy- most of the time. If I’m around people I like, it’s less so, but people in general take a lot of my energy. Kabru, on the other hand, is very extroverted. He gets a lot of energy from interacting with people, and for the most part his personality and interests are acceptable to the society he lives in. BUT his interest in dissecting people’s motivations and how they communicate and interact and how to move them in the direction he wants them to go, that’s considered overly intense and creepy even by his party. Kabru keeps a lot of his thoughts and honest reactions internal because he’s aware of how people interact and what is or isn’t acceptable. I do the same thing, and I engage in a fair bit of “manipulation” (neutral) as part of my masking - I know that asking people for advice, showing interest in their lives, complaining together about things, etc, will cause them to view me more favorably and I use that to keep myself “safe”, along with basically never talking about my interests. I’m friendly and open and helpful and I almost never fight back against anything, so people “like” me. It’s not all *fake*, but it’s not the whole truth either. I’d rather not engage in conversation at all, because I can’t talk honestly about my interests without being considered creepy- but if Kabru’s special interest is people and how they interact, to some degree he can talk about his interests without it seeming weird.

Anyways, that’s my perspective :D also thank you for being a Milsiril defender, it’s… really painful to see people calling her manipulative and superior. I know a lot of it is bc ppl DO NOT understand anyone who likes dolls as an adult but like….. liking dolls has less than nothing to do with “needing to feel superior” or in control -_-

Hello!! I collect dolls too!!! Proud to be nº1 Milsiril defender.

That's an interesting perspective! As far as I understand (I'm autistic too so I don't have personal experience to how allistic people work) everyone does some amount of masking, as in everyone has a version of themselves they use to interact with others and that "mask" usually falls when you're with people who know and understand you better

As I understand that type of mask is expected in society? Like you wont act at work the same way you do with your college friends (usually). But as some tumblr post said "we are the mask and the wearer" as in those masks are still a part of who they are.

That's why I said I didn't think Kabru was high masking, I hadn't heard that term before so I was confused

Maybe I don't fully get it but keeping some parts of yourself inside and not expressing it to people who wont understand is common among allistic and autistic people but masking is this but in a way more stressful way? Since you aren't just hiding facets of who you are you're making an active effort to hide the whole thing basically.

Kabru's mask seems to come easily to him and it doesn't seem like he makes an conscious effort to go against his nature to hide who he is that's why I said he probably doesn't do high masking in that sense. But in another sense he IS highly adaptable to the people around him and studies how people act so I understand that perspective! It's more of a personal interpretation tbh.

[femmefatalevibe]

Hi, do u have any tips for building a thicker skin and not getting hurt easily? I've only just realized recently that I'm very sensitive, if someone talks a little rudely to me or says something rude to me, I get hurt and anxious. It's so weird because I usually do not care about what other people do or think about me. But I can't handle being treated rudely or criticism. I just have the urge to stop talking, runaway or leave if a person is even a tiny bit rude to me. help.

Hi love! I would say it's all about cultivating emotional resilience. Like any muscle, you need to train your mind to remain calmer under pressure or stressful situations. Here are some ways I think are helpful to build this skillset:

Step into difficult conversations as two people vs. a project/problem/situation. Depersonalize any criticism by objectifying the criticism of a certain behavior, action, etc. Think of it as its own entity – like an object that can float away in the wind.

Internalize that a lot of criticism/rudeness is a form of projection and says more about the other person's inner turmoil than your demeanor or character. Offering non-constructive criticism is self-destructive. Case closed.

Look inward and make it a priority to truly get to know yourself. What are your core values? Desires? Goals? How do you want to present yourself to the world? What are your likes? Dislikes? Fears? Self-knowledge gives you a blueprint of how to move forward.

Reverse your "what ifs." Instead of wondering what could go wrong by leaning into criticism and difficult situations, consider "what's the worst that can happen?" Once you ask yourself and answer this question honestly, you realize that most of the time your fear is disproportional to the likely outcome.

Consider learning to sit/be present in the discomfort to be an act of self-care. You're becoming emotionally stronger and proving to yourself that you can hold your own in any situation. Stick up for yourself but know when to silently bow out for your own sake vs run away due to perceived personal incompetence.

Hope this helps xx

[kkongdakz]

“ I SEA YOU. ” ft. kim gyuvin

gyuvin x gn!reader, genre : fluff & comfort, warnings : mention of anxiety and overwhelming feelings, wc : 2,3k>

author's note : this is a really, very, truly personal fic, so i'm sorry if you don't recognize or identify with y/n.. but still, i hope you'll like it anyway 😙👍🏻 also, could this be my official comeback? ..who knows..

ever since you were little, you've always considered the sea your comfort zone, your escape. the sound of the waves and the feel of salt water on your skin had a way of dissipating all your worries, help you avoid drowning under pressure and stress. you've long believed that nothing else in the world could give you a similar sensation — not even the hottest summer sun, not even the most beautiful spring blossom tree, not even the tastiest winter hot chocolate, not even the reddest leaf on an autumn tree. nothing could compare to the comfort of the sea in your heart.

that's why you've continued to visit this beach, which means so much to you, every week. this little beach, almost always deserted, where the clear horizon offers you all the splendour of the sky living side by side with the ocean. the palette of blue inked in your memory is enough to soothe you on rainy evenings, but you need the sound of the ocean coming out of a giant shell to soothe your mind. and even if you have to travel miles from your student apartment to get to what makes you so happy, you'll do it without hesitation. but no longer alone.

on the long river of your quiet life, a little boat named kim gyuvin decided to follow a stream to reach the blue ocean of your heart. it was no mean feat — even if you have to admit that the sincerity of his smile made you sink delicately to the bottom of the well of love. he crossed your path by chance, and kept crossing it. again and again. until you accept him on your raft. he hadn't been that insistent, but what really wins you over is feeling that gentle warmth in your heart every time he looks at you with all the goodness in the world in the corner of his eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful smile on the planet. the same warmth you get from watching a sunset reflected on the ocean's blue expanse.

« shall we go? » you suddenly heard, in a voice as gentle as a summer breeze, bringing you out of your deepest thoughts. turning your head to the right, your absent gaze fell on gyuvin's peaceful face, you smiled tenderly, gently grabbing the hand he was holding out to you to get up and follow him out the door.

the trip to the beach didn't seem as long as it used to be, now that a warm hand was keeping yours company. you no longer had to show him the way, as he now knew the route by heart — even better than you. but today, something seemed to have changed inside your heart. maybe it was because of the way his freshly dyed black hair swept across his forehead in the same way that grains of sand move across the beach in the wind. maybe it was the way numerous shivers ran through your body every time his shoulder brushed yours, like when cold sea water touches your feet on autumn mornings. maybe it was simply the beauty of his face that easily equalled the beauty of a sunset shining on the surface of the ocean.

a ton of maybe trotted through your mind as you struggled to stay focused on the road, far too busy watching the slightest feature of gyuvin's face. even his profile was perfect. unconsciously tightening the grip of your hand around his, gyuvin turns his soft gaze on your face, his pretty brown eyes instantly locked in yours. he was surprisingly so calm — usually, he couldn't help being an overexcited puppy, and you liked that about him. he contrasted with your far too calm personality — he was like the tsunami of your life, shaking up your habits for the better, of course.

but gyuvin knew that these seaside escapades were important for you, that they were necessary for the proper functioning of your mind, they were made to soothe you. so he knew how to stand still and give you the chance to recharge your batteries in peace, even though he had to admit that having the privilege of accompanying you was the greatest accomplishment of all.

let's go back up the creek into the reverse river, to revisit the first time gyuvin's curious eyes landed on your hair floating in the ocean breeze. he must have been in his fifties, where adolescence made him want to escape far away from everything. it was an afternoon when the late summer wind kept reminding him that school was just around the corner, after running aimlessly for an hour, his footsteps led him to this hidden, deserted small beach, where only the sound of the waves crashing on the sand disturbed the tranquillity of the place. it was so beautiful, so pleasant — he felt as if he were floating, his mind carried away by the waves. and that's when he saw you, like a dream. as pretty as a mermaid, your soft face so serene.. he was so jealous of you. you were approaching the serenity he so desperately sought, and it upset him. but that didn't stop him from continuing to look at you with curious doe eyes, as if you weren't capable of feeling a insistent gaze burn your skin. he suspected you must be around his age, because of your youthful facial features glistening in the sunlight. as he watched you without saying a word, without moving an inch, his heart fluttering with lightness at the mere sight of your devastating but peaceful smile. you seemed so far out in the ocean — that intrigued him and led him to appreciate a little more the benefits of the sea. you intrigued him.

so.. to say that he approached you by pure coincidence would be a lie, because when he recognized you, wandering the halls of his high school, he wondered why he'd never noticed you before. with hindsight and a bit of imagination, it was probably because your mind was always stuck in the middle of the ocean and no boat had ever managed to reach your soul — until he decided he was going to make it, even if he had to swim for it. which he did, with flying colors.

« you're okay? » he asked, softly, in a voice that sounded like a siren call to your ears. falling for kim gyuvin was, once upon a time, something inconceivable for you. your head was too much in the clouds, your mind too much in your dreams, and your heart far too rambunctious to consider loving anyone other than the ocean. but he managed to get you to change tack — him and his beautiful sun-kissed brown eyes. shaking your head negatively with a barely visible smile that only he could see, you finally looked away to the horizon, where the entrance to the beach wasn't far off. « we're here. » you announced, tugging a little more firmly on his hand to guide his steps, despite the fact that he knew this road by heart, having travelled it with you so many times.

as you carefully descended the stairs to the beach, the fresh ocean breeze was already tickling your fragile skin. gyuvin was careful not to let go of your hand to prevent you from falling, but this impulse of benevolence caused him to miss the moment when you stopped dead in your tracks to observe the landscape in front of you, his body colliding with yours. « oh.. » was the only thing he was able to say when his chest hit your back, and the next second his gaze was unconsciously fixed on your face, which, once again, seemed so tranquil at the mere sight of waves washing up on the sand eternally. a smile tugged at his lips, his free hand slipping to your hip to hold you close, and his heart racing at the simple knowledge that you were perfectly fine right now. « it's pretty, isn't it? » you finally commented, your words mixing with the wind to reach his ears, and gyuvin nodded positively, his loving gaze lost in the ocean of your eyes.

advancing through the sand, taking care to draw him along with you, you didn't give him time to dream about whether you could be his little mermaid, the one who could save from drowning the prince he could have been. the same one you might abandon on the beach, as you did previously with the fifteen-year-old boy who first saw you a few years earlier. gyuvin liked to think your story would be so pretty to tell — he was one hundred percent sure it would be his little sisters' favorite love story, the one that would make them dream by night and hope by day. yeah, gyuvin was convinced that your love story would inspire many.

now sitting next to each other on the warm sand, gyuvin's fingers quietly played with a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger, with his tender, benevolent gaze fixed on you. his heart seemed filled with happiness, because he knew that there, right now, right here, sitting in front of that vast blue sea, your heart was soothed, at the height of the happiness you so preciously cherished. and he was perfectly right : sitting on the sand, you held your knees to your chest, your star-filled eyes exploring the ocean you seemed to know by heart. the beauty of the light reflected on the surface of the water, the waves breaking against the shiny sand of the beach, the sound of the latter disturbing the tranquillity of the place, with only a few people strolling by, each looking happier than the next. not far away, a little girl running with her feet in the water, followed by a little boy who seemed to be laughing out loud as he tried to catch up with her. the sun seemed to embrace their skin with its warmth, under the watchful eyes of their parents who were standing not far from them, a light, benevolent smile decorating their faces.

then, as you watched them tenderly, your thoughts suddenly began to wander, taking you to the back of your mind that never stopped thinking. after careful consideration, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, you didn't have to make weekly trips to the beach. because you'd found another way to feel good and happy when the world seemed to be crashing down on you.

looking away from the blue expanse in front of you, your pupils finally meet those of gyuvin. your boyfriend offers you a pretty smile — light, but filled with all the sincerity in the world, his eyes overflowing with love. in your chest, your heart began to race, furiously, warmly, pleasantly, like the first time you fell in love with the sea. gyuvin's love was as deep as the ocean, his hands as soft as water, his eyes as radiant as the sun reflecting on the surface. he'd come into your life by chance, and had been making you want to drown in his arms ever since. he cracked the shell of your heart and slipped inside and never left. and now, he brings you the same warmth and comfort as an afternoon spent observing the ocean. it was strange, a new feeling for you — in your whole life, no one has ever been able to fill the void inside you, to calm the storm that was sometimes your mind, when, with just one little smile, gyuvin made you forget all the ills of your life, as the sea was so adept at doing it. so maybe now, kim gyuvin was the ocean's main rival in your heart.

hooking your hands around his arm, you drew him gently towards you, feeling a certain shyness rise up in you after having spent long seconds staring at him without saying anything. laying your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek, his hand slips against one of yours, gently caressing your fingers. « i don't think i need to come here so often anymore. » you say suddenly, attracting the attention of the boy at your side, who raises an eyebrow at you. he wasn't used to seeing you refuse a trip to the seaside, especially knowing perfectly well your love for this beach so dear to your heart. so it was only natural for him to ask you why or how you'd come to think such a thing, his little why floating in the air for a moment without any answer escaping your lips.

tightening your grip around his arm, closing your eyes as the ocean breeze hits your face, a perfectly relaxed smile, the most sincere he'd ever seen, took place on your lips. « i found someone better than the ocean. » you replied, so naturally that gyuvin felt the tips of his ears redden furiously. he wasn't stupid — he knew, he understood that silently, and in your own way, you had just confessed to him that he was like the ocean in your heart. and for him, those words were more powerful than a simple i love you.

gyuvin knew that nothing meant more to you than the sound of the waves and the beauty of the ocean's expanse, which you cherished more than anything else. so, the mere thought of him being superior to the sea in your heart could only make him fall even more in love with you than he already was. his rebellious teenage heart of a few years ago was definitely not wrong : you were the mermaid who kept him from drowning. without answering you orally, gyuvin decided to simply close his eyes in turn, resting his head against yours, enjoying your stroll by the sea which managed to open your heart to him.

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[pricegouge]

Had an EXHAUSTING work week so I literally slept my Friday and Saturday away, and I was rereading some of your dark fics again and like... (I know you're not accepting requests or anything rn so this is purely just me rambling to empty my brain) but I just know if some of your renditions of the 141 abducted me to turn me into a sweet little pet or cute little housewife, they might actually be unnerved by how willingly I'd go with them LOL

Soap plucking a cute little reader as a present for the rest of the boys, expecting some kicking and fighting, but maybe only after a moment of squirming and panicking, reader immediately settles down. Soap chops it up to being some kind of survival response (probably has seen it once or twice in other victims he's snagged).

But then he brings reader home and everyone is expecting the usual 'adjustment period' that comes with a new pet, but reader seems to settle down almost instantly. Sure she quivers and looks at them with wide eyes bc this is still a very new setting to suddenly be in, but other than that, she doesn't make a single peep of complaint.

Simon thinks she's lowkey a freak, tries to get a laugh about it - but maybe reader came from a really shitty living situation, or abusive relationships were the norm. So suddenly being given the perfect escape from the mess that was her life is something she takes as a blessing in disguise. Once she learns the boys aren't going to bruise her or neglect her like other people have, she becomes downright needy for their affection and attention.

Food being brought to me, so I don't need to set alarms to remind myself to eat??? Someone whipping something yummy up and bringing it to me on the dot, making sure I've eaten it all?? Hashtagblessed.

They sit me in a nice warm tub and wash me??? Make sure I'm all clean and even trim my nails/make sure I don't anxiously pick at my skin til I bleed? Hashtagblessed.

Where life was once chaotic and unpredictable, suddenly all the previous stresses are gone and replaced with routine, stability, and a few other comforts that the reader couldn't originally have? Hashtagblessed.

Unlike others, instead of complaining about wanting to go home, or begging not to be killed, she's complaining that she can't snuggle up with Price as he smokes and reads work reports - and the way he leans back on his chair as he looks over papers is so inviting!! The perfect spot to rest her head on his chest as she settles on his lap.

Kyle panics at one point bc he was helping Johnny bring in supplies and groceries, and the front door was left open without anyone checking to see if the pet is in her cage. Before he can scramble to Price to ask if he's seen reader, he finds her sitting obediently on the floor next to Simon as he cleans his gun, head resting on his thigh, mind turned off just from watching him effortlessly take the thing apart to clean and oil it, almost even napping, totally unbothered. Until Kyle had disturbed the dust and now she's blinking up at him all confused as he tries to come down from his panic high.

Before they even realize it, reader is snuggling up in bed with them each night without any of them having to chain her down or lock the doors - she's still there in the mornings. Reader even starts helping out around the house of her own volition after maybe a month of what SHE considered being spoiled, but was the 141 still thinking she was in the adjustment period.

Now she's waking up each day with Price to get started on the coffee and breakfast as the others wake up. Shuffles to them when they walk to the kitchen one by one and clings to them all sleepy as 'good mornings' are said. They don't need to ask if she slept well, her bedhead is enough of a tell.

Simon is still the one most weirded out by how easily reader just accepted her fate and slotted herself into their lives, but even he's agreeing with the others that like, nah, this is the one we've been lookin' for all this time, no need for anyone else, reader is perfect.

Maybe while they're all wrapped up in their new domestic bliss, someone from reader's old life has filed a missing person report, maybe half the town has been searching for her, none of them realize it. Until they go into town with her one day (maybe reader needs a haircut - the boys only know how to do military buzzcuts or trims (savages!)) And suddenly they have a little cluster of people asking where tf reader has been she's been missing after all!!

141 think they might have to cut and run, hop towns until they're not wanted any more - but Reader is just like 'I'm not missing??? I've been here the whole time???'

When people start accusing the 141 of abduction, reader pipes up 'nah I just moved in with them, its not like that???'

The person from their life before shows up and she looks them dead in the eye with a frown on her face. 'Who are you?'

She just takes Price's hand and is like 'okay well we have shopping to do, bye' and is the one to drag them all away, like hello we have a schedule to stick to???

They decide to move towns anyway, just to get away from the person reader pretended not to know, and after a few months of peace the obituary lists their death off from some unfortunate accident, totally unrelated to any of the boys at all, and reader doesn't even bat an eye.

fellow shit week haver what's up 👊🏻

So, unfortunately, if we're talking the Haul boys like I'm assuming we are, you've made one bad miscalculation in that they will not be any less abusive than your exes and will def leave you battered from time to time. But yes, they will take outright pride in providing you a home and a schedule and sustenance. Which makes you absolutely perfect for them when accept it all so graciously

Gaz and John accept it almost instantly, both desperate for a sweet little thing to dote on who's gracious and sweet. Gaz starts having movie nights with you within a month, lugging a TV set down to you at least once a week because you can't be trusted top side quite yet in case he falls asleep to whatever cutesy romcom you've chosen. He calls them date nights, gets mad at the receivers he's delivering to if they keep him held up too long on those days. Surprises himself the first time he lets slip his baby's home waiting on him.

John clocks your need for structure instantly, it being a trait he's seen all too often in the service. He's all too happy to provide it, softening the schedule he's set for past victims dolls when he sees how quickly you take to it. You get lunch, for a start. He even eats it with you most days, a new adjustment that works out for both of you, as John didn't used to bother with it either. And if they find meds in your bag, or your car, John's got clocks set and pill caddies ready to ensure you get the proper dosage on time.

When he's not too busy basking in the glory of bringing home the little wifey, Soap's the one who spends the most time with you, at least when you're still locked in your basement room. He's always telling you how proud he is of you, how well you've done in accepting your position. He's the one that finally convinces Price you can be trusted to wander the warehouse, though John near has a conniption when Soap does this by placing a knife in your hand and laughing when you just drop it back to the floor with an uncomfortable grimace.

Like you said, Simon takes the longest. He's not used to having such a pretty thing loving on him so well, but he's fiercely protective of you once he figures out you're not going anywhere. Even when they've all generally accepted you can be allowed out in public, Simon doesn't let you out of his sight. You're a bit offended at first, thinking he still doesn't trust you even after all the work you've put into giving him a home. But the first time some man comes sniffing around you and Simon scares him off with little more than a look, you understand what he's really up to.

The sense of relief you feel when they show you your own obit surprises you, just a bit. You've long since given up bothering psychoanalyzing your desires when it comes to your husbands, but you expect at least a little fear to swell up in you at the proclamation of your own death. You're well and truly theirs now, no one looking for you ever again. You wait for the fear to come, wait even longer. You're still waiting when John gives you a set of keys weeks later and tells you he's bought a nice house in the suburbs, jokes about how you won't have to sweep up concrete dust everyday anymore. But i's not fear that flips your tummy when you think about the life you have planned with them.

[final-fantasy-imagines]

Oh my bad misreading the rules last time. To resubmit: could I please get some headcanons for Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis with a fellow SOLDIER S/O that's a healer and they're patching them up during and/or after a mission? Thanks!

No worries! I know there are a lot of things to keep in mind when sending a request to me, so it's completely understandable that you miss some aspects. However, thank you very much for resubmitting your request. I really enjoyed working on this one and I hope you like what I came up with! (Also, I'm finally back! Yay!)

Characters: Angeal Hewley, Sephiroth, Genesis Rhapsodos 

Getting patched up by their SOLDIER!healer!s/o (gn!reader)

Among your fellow SOLDIERs it’s well known that you’re not only a good fighter but also a skilled healer, so it’s not unusual that others ask you to patch them up when they get injured. However, you often tell them to go see a nurse in the hospital ward because there’s really only one person who can count on you to use your healing abilities to help them with their injuries – your boyfriend. 

Angeal Hewley

Angeal is incredibly thankful that you’re always there to patch him up whenever he returns with multiple injuries after a mission. There’s no way he’d take anything you do for him for granted and he always makes sure to thank you once you’re done healing him. If he could, he’d do the same for you but since he’s not half as good with healing magic as you are, he can only do so much when you are injured.

He even goes as far as apologizing for worrying you with his wounds. Angeal knows exactly how much it hurts to see the ones you love injured, so he understands what you’re going through in moments like this. Although he’s well aware that being a SOLDIER can be extremely risky and not even the best fighters can get out of every fight unscathed, he always promises to be more careful next time.

Every so often, Angeal pulls your hands away from his wounds to press a soft kiss to your knuckles or your wrist. That’s his way of thanking you for always taking such good care of him, especially since you probably already have tons of other things on your plate. It really makes him feel incredibly loved that you always take the time to patch him up, no matter how busy or stressed out you are. 

Sephiroth

Before you came into his life, Sephiroth was so used to treating his injuries on his own that he really struggled with accepting your help at first. Like, somehow it felt so wrong for him to just sit there and allow you to patch him up, especially since he knows that others often consider it a weakness to ask someone else for help. But then again, Sephiroth rarely cares about the opinions of others, so that’s something he can ignore fairly easily.

There’s something comforting and soothing about you tending to his wounds. Sometimes, he feels like you’re not only healing his body, but also his soul, as pathetic as it sounds (hence why he would never say something like this out loud), and he really can’t help falling in love with you even more in moments like this. It’s incredibly cheesy but with you, he just knows he’s in good hands.

He absolutely loves watching you when you heal him because the highly focused expression on your face is incredibly adorable, at least in his opinion. Also, it gives him the opportunity to get a better understanding of what you’re doing, especially since he always strives to learn new things and broaden his horizons. 

Genesis Rhapsodos 

Let’s be honest, Genesis is usually way too proud to accept help from others. He’s someone who likes to solve every problem and issue completely on his own, so it’s not unlikely that he tries to hide his injuries from you. It’s not that he doesn’t trust your healing abilities but he’s convinced that he’s more than capable to treat his wounds on his own.

All of that doesn’t mean that he’s not grateful for your help, though. In the end, not even Genesis can deny that your abilities to treat injuries are superior to his which also means that he can return to the battlefield as soon as possible. So, even if he tries to take care of his injuries on his own, it’s not unusual that he comes to you for help. 

You often scold him for being so reckless during fights and he always laughs it off like you just made a really good joke, reassuring you that you have nothing to worry about. Oftentimes, he watches you healing him with that typical cocky smile on his lips because your concern really flatters him – after all, it means that he’s important to you and that you don’t want to lose him, so better don’t expect him to change his behavior.  

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support. <3

[jnece-maharlika]

LMK AU: Back Alley Talks

MK and his Clones Brothers

Fic in progress.

Where, Mk is shadow peach kid, is kidnapped and end up working for the underground.

For more info:

Clones

I want to give them a big role in the story. I want them to act like Mk's brothers. So Mk ends up learning about making clones way earlier than he was supposed to, he's 150 years old (5 years old.)

(before he starts working underground)

He's 5 years old, and he's got a job as a DJ for his current caretakers Bar/Club. (The job isn't very legal of course, child labor isn't legal but hey, who is he to complain? It's the least he could do for his caretaker, at least he's being paid) But he's also a busy person, he has something more important to do so he turns to the internet for advice. One of them suggests cloning.

So he does that. He searches the internet for how to clone himself, fails, stumbles upon an animated video of the Monkey king cloning himself, tries that and succeeds.

This porty is Born.

Porty DJ's and Mk goes off to do his business.

Porty acts differently from mk, does things that mk wouldn't usually do. mk doesn't think much of it, he just assumes that the only thing a clone copies is the face not the personality, just assumes that their meant to be sentient.

Caretaker find out, and goes. "Mk...their not supposed to be sentient...their supposed to be mindless carbon copies of you who only do what you want them to..."

So they experiment for a bit.

And thus Artsy is born.

(delivery mk won't be here for a very longgggg time)

Both clones are sentient. And apparently, due to being made of Mk's magic, they know all of Mk's powers, even the ones he didn't know about and can use it better than Mk can. So they end up mentoring him.

The clones also don't need to be summoned by mk, they can just come out of Mk's shadow. (Not all clones can do this, only the sentient ones. Mk has a much harder time making non sentient clones)

In this au, Shadows are sentient. The shadow magic mixing in with the cloning magic is what give artsy and Porty their sentience.

Here's some concept art:

Still a work in progress. I call it:

MK and his Clones Brothers

As you can see, Delivery is currently a Skinny boy, this drawing is set before he started stress eating.

I don't think he'll get fat much in the au anyways, considering that Mk is gonna be broke and malnourished for a long time.

And even if he does get money from working underground, Mk and his brothers would have to be moving around quickly so they need to stay lightweight, and the stress from that would probably thin him out before he even gets fat from all the stress eating. It's like, eating a lot while exercise, it has no effect, you don't get fat, but you don't get skinny either.

So unless they actually get some stability in their life, Delivery will be a stressed skinny doll. And considering this is fanfiction? Stability is a myth and angst wins.

Delivery gets stressed a lot. Very easily stressed, the most emotionally and mentally fragile out of the 4.

[kedreeva]

There were a lot of good (and some weird) things about vending at this reptile expo, but hands down the best part was getting to sell my mice in person. Usually people contact me through my business page and arrange the sale ahead of time, and local pickup is at a third public location - a gas station that surely thinks I'm making shady drug deals in their side parking lot with how often I'm over there and I don't know if they would consider that better or worse than being up to mouse shenanigans - so I only ever get to talk to people for a hot second in person while we transfer animals and cash. They rarely handle the mice at all in front of me.

But the expo? Holy shit, man. The look on people's faces when they read the sign that said "please touch, we're very friendly!" or when they started to walk past thinking I had feeder mice only to hear me call "do you want to hold a mouse?" My table was PACKED with people jammed around the mouse bin marveling at how soft mice are and how nice they were. I repeated dozens and dozens of times about how they're bred for temperament, yes the ears are bred that way for show, yes the tail is longer because of show breeding. I repeated so many times "she won't jump out of your hands/bite I promise." I had dozens, probably 100+ kids LIGHT UP when I asked if they wanted to hold or pet one. One small boy, maybe 2 years old max, spotted my mice from like 15 feet away and his whole posture changed and he shrieked MOUSE??!! and lunged towards them from his mother's arms and only her incredibly fast reflexes saved him. I was asked several times why the mice hadn't pooped or peed on anyone, and had to explain how that's a stress behavior from mice that aren't bred to be comfortable being handled.

And it's always especially gratifying when people scared of mice will come pet or hold them after I tell them they don't have to, but also they'll never meet a nicer mouse and you won't BELIEVE how soft they are. How many times today I heard "oh... I didn't know they could be this sweet." Adults and kids alike! There was one little girl who so very badly wanted to hold one but she was so scared about it her hands started shaking as I was getting ready to put the mouse in them... And the moment the mouse was in her hands she literally melted. I don't have a better word, she relaxed completely and her face lit up as she smiled in relief. I don't know what she was expecting but whatever it was, the mouse she held put her at complete ease.

Like idk. Idk. I sold every single mouse I brought. Easily! Hours before the end of the expo. And made so, so many people happy just to experience them. It's enough to make me want to bring some ambassadors. I had a couple of my Really friendly girls there that were just so desperate to climb into hands they hopped up into the hands of complete strangers. Not one person got even a nip, not even the small children who got overexcited or anxious and grabbed a little too hard for a second. I am extremely proud of my gals, I think they really showed people how gentle and good mice can be.

Anyway. Completely worth it. I'm going to make a sign explaining the things I repeated 70 biajillion times to save my poor throat, and go back next month.

[tommys-cant-swim]

So, you want to get a tommy

Great! Tommys are wonderful creatures and full of personality. But there are things you should consider before getting them:

Tommys have a very long lifespan compared to dogs or cats- 35-40 years to be exact. A tommy is a big commitment and if you're on the older side you might even need to pass yours on to another family member.

Tommys are extremely energetic, overwhelmingly so. By the time I finish tiring out my tommys, I'm usually sweating and exhausted (love them though)

The most popular breed of tommy (dsmp or canon depending on who you ask) are significantly more prone to anxiety than other breeds. Please do not get one just because you've seen them online

Tommys have diets that may be upsetting to some people- they eat bugs and shellfish (and fruit), if you're upset by either, don't get one, please.

All that being said, here's a quick and dirty guide to getting your first tommy!

Choosing a tommy

There are lots of ways to choose a tommy, there's plenty of shelters to choose from and most house every kind of tommy. I recommend going in person and picking whichever you feel the closest to- but picking a specific breed is fine too! I'll leave a guide to the two breeds I know best (feel free to add info about other breeds)

DSMP/Canon - As previously stated, a very popular breed of tommy. They form strong bonds with owners and other pets and generally mix well with other popular mcyts such as tubbos and wilburs. However, they are easily startled and can be very messy due to being burrowers. They're also known to experience strong 'play aggression' and can accidentally injure others if they get too riled up.

Origin(s) - I know much less about this breed, but I still feel confident speaking on them as I have fostered origins tommys in the past. Origins tommys are much more mentally sound than dsmp breeds and do not have the major caveat of having to eat bugs as they are completely vegetarian! However, they do have minor flight abilities, which may be a turn-off for some owners.

Setting up your home for your tommy

Tommys need an outdoor area of at least 25 sq ft for digging and general enrichment. Tommys who are let outside unsupervised should be belled to prevent damage to the local ecosystem and the tommy themselves, as they have a bad habit of eating birds and squirrels, fur and bones, which they cannot digest.

All tommys need a small, private space to hide and rest in. A cardboard box will do just fine under most circumstances as long as it is large enough for your tommy to stretch out in to prevent claustrophobic anxiety (which dsmp tommys are especially prone to).

Lastly, tommys need chew toys. Chewing is their main way of relieving stress and expressing joy and not having a consistent outlet for it is extremely upsetting for them.

Additional advice

Tommys cannot swim and should not be let near bodies of water deeper than knee-height.

Dsmp tommys are terrified of heights and should not be placed on counters or tables.

Tommy's Can be picked up by the scruff

My other guides:

Caring for tommys with anxiety Tommy mouthingIntroducing two tommys (this can really be applied to introducing a tommy to any pet)

[nyaagolor]

What's going on with Nemona's wrist?

this is mostly just me putting down all my thoughts about this hc I have. Below the cut bc it's long as usual but read on if ur interested in like. orthopedics

I think Nemona has fatigue and some kind of wrist Issue because 1. She implies she has decreased motor function in that arm (can't throw pokeballs well, supports her arm with her other hand during battles) 2. She wears a brace 3. She gets winded easily / needs to catch her breath more than other characters / hates stairs So that got me wondering what the cause could be. I work in an orthopedic office and my shifts are 12 hours so sometimes when it's slow and I'm bored this is what my mind wanders to

Option 1: It's carpal tunnel and she's out of shape This is the most obvious answer since carpal tunnel is a repetitive stress injury and she's wearing a brace that looks almost identical to irl braces for that problem. Throwing pokeballs over and over, especially incorrectly, would be the most likely cause of an asymmetrical injury like that, and is actually reasonable for someone of her age and activity level. The winded thing is just because she's out of shape and has no underlying cause. Or maybe she just has some kinda chronic pain / fatigue disorder. That's not my department idk

Option 2: Oligoarticular JIA (juvenile idiopathic arthritis) This very long name is just describing chronic joint swelling in children that affects less than 5 joints. It's an autoimmune disease, and actually not that uncommon all things considered. It causes stiffness and pain, which would explain the stamina issues and motor skill issues. Plus, the constant flexion and extension of the knees from staircases certainly would explain her distaste for them in particular. That shit hurts. Occasionally people will use a brace for JIA-- it's highly unlikely her wrist would be the worst considering the typical presentation patterns (it usually affects bigger joints first like the knees) but hey. It's possible! This condition also affects young girls more often than other groups so. Math checks out

Option 3: Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hypermobility type) Figured I would include this bc I've seen a few people hc this and wanted to give it a fair shot myself. This is a heritable connective tissue disorder that causes hypermobile joints, chronic pain, fatigue, and a whole host of other things. Specifically tho, this disorder used to be called EDS type III and is now considered part of the Hypermobility Spectrum Disorders, but that's a can of worms for a post that's not this one. While the symptoms do match, and honestly quite well (a brace for stabilization makes perfect sense and the fatigue symptoms feel pretty on the nose) the disease usually causes very stretchy skin and vascular issues that she doesn't seem to have so I'm a tad on the fence

Option 4: Cervical spinal stenosis Despite this being the first thing that came to mind for me (since I see it a lot in the office) I'm now less convinced this would be the case. This disorder is basically a narrowing of the spinal canal that pinches the nerves in the neck. It can cause pain, weakness, numbing, and pain that radiates down the body. If most of the compression was on the C4 and C5 nerve I can see it affecting one arm / wrist especially rough (since the pain is typically bilateral but asymmetrical) but also this occurring in people under the age of 50 is SUPER rare so eh. It's possible it was congenital or caused by an injury but I wouldn't bet on it. As for the stamina issues, the neurological issues caused by the compression would likely be the cause of that, especially radiating down the back and legs. Felt worth it to include even if I'm not 100% convinced

I'm saying "options" here bc these symptoms are super vague and there's like 80 billion things that could cause it, I'm just racking my brain for different possibilities. If anyone has other hcs for the underlying causes of Her Whole Deal lmk I'm curious

[writing-whump]

Woww thank you for the accident fic I was one of the fans who asked for it 😄 maybe it was not fun for you as much as other but I really enjoyed it (guess I'm a huge fan of those kind unexpected drama and sacrifice lol) Tbh, I don't want to bore you, or mess your schedule and attention but I can't help myself! Well, ok, I admit I'm a drama-addict and love to read other's reactions to it. Sorry for insisting!!

So it's just a tiny request, it really doesn't have to a fic-long as usual (if you want to write that way of course it's way better for me lol) I'm just curious about how would Isiah feel and think when he found out about the accident. I understand that this kind of trauma can be healed easily for wolves and not a concern, and Hex&Arnie got through it well, but it could be worse, right? Idk maybe Arnie would feel stressed about it afterwards and worry about Hex even though he's already healed. He might also blame himself for what happened as he was driving? Anyways, would you consider write another part stress sick Arnie and caretaker Isiah?

-🛼

I mean, this is fitting, since Arnie doesn't get stress sick, but he gets stress migraines. And we didn't have him with Isaiah as caretaker for a while...here you go🥰🤗

Stress migraine

Arnie really wanted to have fun today.

Hector was sleeping third day in a row already, tyring to get his shadow back up after all the healing. Nobody really knew, since Hector wouldn't want the pack to know and refused to call anyone.

Arnie understood. It was usually just the two of them, when something bad happened to either. Hector never let himself or Arnie find out if they had other people they could trust.

But now they had someone like that back. Someone they could call.

Other thing was that there wasn't really much to tell. Hector was fine, the car was getting fixed, Arnie wasn't hurt very much. What was he supposed to make a scene for, when there was no proof something even happened?

He caught himself looking for the little wound in his hair in the mirror just to make sure he didn't dream the whole accident up.

They had a scheduled meeting with Isaiah on Saturday though and Arnie figured it was a good opportunity as any to get out and distract himself.

He wanted to stop waking up to the fear he was back at the car or keep checking Hector every 30 minutes like he would start coughing blood out of his sleep all of sudden.

No, this was good.

Isaiah took him on a tour around Vienna. He said it was a scandal Arnie didn't get to see the center yet and that he didn't know all the sights by memory now.

Isaiah definitely did. They took Tram D around the main ring of the first district. Many important things were all after each other, parliament, city hall, the two giant museums of natural history and art history right across each other, the giant theater, the Butterfly House...

Isaiah refused to take a car, when everything was so well-connected and they spend the day on foot, from one park to another, one big street to another.

Isaiah seemed to have a thought out plan of switching between greenery and impressive buildings, talking all about the style of architecture, how many times they were rebuild, who famous lived there.

Arnie was so overwhelmed with all the information he stopped putting it together halfway through. He took comfort from just Isaiah's relaxed mood, his zealous voice and ardent expression.

Everything was all good with the world again. One could believe it, listening to him.

Somewhere around midday they went to get lunch near the Schonenbrun castle and gardens, Isaiah treating him to schnitzel and cake for good measure. He never let Arnie pay for anything when they were together.

"I have the same inheritance as you do," Arnie objectdd as he took a sip from his cold brew coffee.

Isaiah smiled. "Yeah, but we will start this talk once you make your own. Rich or not, there is nothing like getting a paycheck for the first time. Your effort, you decision."

"So you want to pay for everything with what you earn?"

"The assistance job I got at the uni pays well. I also helped out with a city planning project last year that had very good funding."

Arnie leaned back in the chair. "That's cool. What about your whole wolf helping activities? Hector says you get called to things all around the city. Do you get any pay from that?"

Isaiah took a spoonful of his chocolate lava cake. "No, I don't do that for money. I like helping out."

"You shouldn't be doing that for free though, when it takes so much of your time. Or is it the contacts and favours you gather that way?"

"Isn't it worthwhile and helpful when you can give people things without having them pay for it?"

"Yeah sure, but that's sustainable if you actually use all the money you were born with. If you were born with it." He was getting the impression Isaaih didn't like relying on anything that came from their father. "Besides, don't people take skills and advice more seriously if they have to pay for it? If you give it for free, they might not take any interest at all. It's a way to show them something is valuable."

"What exactly would I call it? Hello, I have experience that your shadow is entirely manageable with the right kind of training, but your pack doesn't seem to know, so come and listen to me?" Isaiah shook his head. Way to insult the pack and trivialise the wolf's problems.

"You have expert training from leading packs of the West. If you wanted to make that systematically accessible through courses or stuff, I think people would find it easer to find you. You could even prevent most of the problems the packs and human authorities call you to."

Isaiah chuckled. "You aren't the first one to suggest something like that. Matthew said something similar. Even Seline said I could make it a job. I don't know. I like working in the academic environment as well."

"It's not like you would have to choose between one or the other. Plus academic jobs are pretty instable I hear."

"You didn't even start uni yet and you are hearing about uni conditions?"

Arnie shrugged. "Lots of protests about the Mittelbau and the time constrained chain contracts around lately." Apprently 80% of the academic workforce that didn't have safe professor status worked under conditioned contracts, always afraid if they were going to be prolonged or not and if they wouldn't have to move to another town just to get a job they specilized in.

"It's impressive you can understand it. You still thinking about law school?"

"Yep." Hector was very careful about not mentioning it too much so Arnie wouldn't feel pressured, but he knew Hector would find it useful. Even wolves had to respect the law.

And Arnie would love to feel a bit more powerful around them.

"You are still studying it too?"

"Additional classes and courses, yeah. It's not my main subject, but it's useful in practice."

Arnie hummed, satisfied with the prognosis of that. He wanted to know useful important stuff.

They talked some more about law and different teaching styles of different faculties.

Everything was going well, except the sun was becoming a bit too much and Arnie's temples were starting to pulse.

Why now? He finally relaxed, finally forgot about what happened at home...

His stomach flipped at the reminder. He was pleasantly full just a minute ago, but now it felt like too much.

They paid and strolled around the gardens, when Arnie said: "Let's sit in the shade for a bit?"

Isaiah gave him a puzzled look that they barely got up and Arnie wanted to sit down already, but complied.

For such a historical sight, there were lots of people chilling on the benches in the shadows. Lots of trees planted for that purpose aside all the magnificently styled flowers everywhere.

"It's really hot today," Arnie said, tugging at the collar of his buttonup. Short sleveed, but still.

"There is a good ice cream stand nearby. I'll get you some." Isaiah patted him on the back as he left.

Arnie slumped back on the bench, relieved to be out of sight for a bit. He didn't want to ruin the tour that Isaiah planned out so carefully, but his head was positively pounding.

He didn't get a headache after the accident. That was weird in hindsight. Usually, when something stressful like that happened, he would absolutely get one.

He must have been too worried for Hector to let himself relax enough for it to set in. Veins must have finally opened from their tense contraction, and that's what made it painful.

Cold sweat was gathering at the back of his neck. His right temple felt like someone was putting a drill to it, while the other was held in a crushing grip.

The sunlight was so blinding, even though he was in a nice shade. He felt goosebumps on his arms, as his lovely lunch churned inside him.

Arnie leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees as he swallowed heavily against the saliva pooling in his mouth.

His stomach let out an angry whine, cramping up. Arnie hid his face in his hands, taking quick shallow breaths. Not now, not now, not now.

He groaned as his lunch roiled inside him, sniffling. There weren't many people around him in particular but this was still a public space. Beautiful gardens under a tree with a view of the castle, no less.

A burp snuck its way past his lips. His upper lip was covered in sweat now too. He could taste the salt as he licked his lips.

Arnie knew from experience it would only make him more miserable to fight it. The pain in his temples pulsed in synch with his heartbeat.

When he looked up from his hands, the sunlight pierced his eyes even stronger. The pain in his left temple spiked and Arnie heaved, pulling his feet more apart.

He swallowed the first retch down, but the second almost made him choke. Letting his head hang between his knees, he burped, the third wave bringing up the cake and the cold coffee onto the ground.

His brain was buzzing in his skull, so he kept his eyes closed, completely giving in to the sensations. Another wave of puke landed between his feet. Arnie only hoped his shoes wouldn't get dirty.

"Aww kiddo. What happened to you?" He felt Isaiah's cold hand against his nape. Isaiah discarded the two scones of ice cream on the ground at the sight, sitting down gently next to him.

That's when another wave of yellow brown puke found its way up, tasting of the potato salad and meat. Arnie groaned, back arching as he vomited up the longest stream yet.

Isaiah held his shoulder to steady him, rubbing up and down with his thumb. "What happened? Did you feel sick suddenly? Or before? Is it the sun?"

Arnie burped emptily, spitting at the pool between his feat. The smell was making him nauseous still.

"I thought we took enough breaks in the shade. Maybe I miscalculated. You are sweating all over."

Arnie sniffled, his nose running. He kept his eyes closed still, the pounding in his head worse whenever the tried to open his eyes. He tilted towards Isaiah's voice blindly.

Isaiah obediently filled in the spot, letting Arnie lean against his shoulder. "Shhhhh. All good now. We will cool you down and you will feel better in no time."

Arnie sniffled again, curling into Isaiah's clean cologne, probably leaving a trail of snot behind. "Head hurtsss."

"I know, buddy, I know."

"...wanna go home."

Isaiah nodded over his head. "I'll call a taxi. We can go to my place too..."

Arnie shook his head. "Home." He wanted his own bed, his curtains, his medicine, though it would probably take a bit for his stomach to settle enough for it.

Isaiah was quite as they waited, only wrapping his arm around Arnie and helping him up when the taxi came. It was more or less a blurr for Arnie, who was glad Isaiah took over so eagerly, masterfully, despite not even knowing what was wrong.

As they sat in the back of the car, Arnie buried his face in Isaiah's chest, trying to muffle the sounds and light as much as possible.

"You will be okay. Just breathe."

"I'm sorry I ruined the trip."

"You didn't, you didn't. Should have chosen a later hour. With this heat-"

"Not the heat," Arnie sighed. "Migraine."

Isaiah tensed underneath him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Miragine. It's fine. Not...not your fault."

"Since when do you get migraines?" Isaiah said in a strangled voice.

"Since I was 12? Or 13? Something like that." He moaned quietly as the car took a turn and jostled him.

Isaiah tighed his grip around his torso. They sat in silence for a while before he spoke again. "How often do you get them?"

"Not regularly anymore. Something...usually something triggers it."

Isaiah's hand went up his arm, gently sneaking into his sweaty hair. When Arnie leaned into the touch, Isaiah started rubbing at his temples gently.

"What triggered it this time?" Isaiah asked softly.

The car jostled them again, making them both jump up and down on their seats. Arnie tensed up, then buried his face against Isaiah's neck with a moan.

Isaiah held him as tight as he could without making it painful. Arnie fought against the growing pressure behind his eyes, lips pressed together.

"Arnie?"

Isaiah's voice was so soft and concerned in his ear it got the tears spilling down Arnie's cheeks. "I-it's nothing. Nothing really happened. We-we just-" He sobbed quietly.

"Shhhhh."

"We-we were in a car accident with Hex. Three days ago." He felt the coldness wash over them as the car came into the underground parking place of their apartment complex. Arnie blinked, leaning back, blinking his eyes open in relief at the darkness.

He looked at Isaiah with teary eyes. "I-I was driving and it wasn't my- but Hex, he- protected me and got super hurt and, and he is fine now..."

Isaiah watched him carefully, green eyes of the same shade meeting his. They seemed to have a glow in the dark from how intensity he focused on Arnie.

"But I was really scared, you know? And it's stupid to be upset about it, cause nothing h-happened-"

"It's not stupid. It was scary and horrible, no matter the outcome. I'm sorry."

"B-but I shouldn't be upset, right? Cause we are fine, we are both fine-" His breath hitched with another sob as another tear ran down his cheek. Some part of his brain wondered how the taxi driver didn't say a thing, waiting for Arnie to cry his eyes out on his backseat.

Isaiah brushed some sweaty blond hair away from Arnie's forehead. "And that's important that you are both healthy and okay. But it makes perfect sense you are upset too. You are allowed to get scared and worried."

Arnie's face twisted with another sob as Isaiah petted his hair gently, carefully watching him for any signs it was making the headache worse. But the pressure was really going down as Arnie let the emotion go, through words and tears.

"We didn't have to go out today if you were upset," Isaiah said.

"I wanted to see you though. And we had it scheduled..." so it was the best opportunity.

"If you called me, I would have come. We don't have to just meet when it's 'scheduled' or when you need help with something serious, you know?" Isaiah was still combing Arnie's hair away, when he started to look through his pockets with their other hand, manifesting a paper towel out of nowhere. "Here."

Arnie wiped his face and carefully blew his nose.

"I want to know when something happens in your lives. Good or bad, big or small," Isaiah said, no trace of reproach in his voice, though he sounded firm. "I want to be in the picture."

Arnie felt better hearing it somehow. It was like a permission to call him, even when the trouble wasn't real. Even if it was just Arnie wanting to talk.

The younger boy took a shaky breath, offering Isaiah a shy smile.

[daybreakrising]

so i've been thinking about this for the past few days and finally come to a decision-

i will be implementing a new rule regarding exclusive ships, and periods of inactivity

to preface this, i will say that i take exclusive ships very seriously, in that i don't jump to exclusives often or easily and they're usually based on very specific things. by extension, i also take the breaking of exclusives very seriously too. i don't like doing it at all.

however. in certain cases, if the partner involved in an exclusive ship goes inactive for a long period of time without any hint of returning and/or no communication, this then leaves me hanging for the development of that ship, and unable to potentially explore a similar dynamic with somebody who is active and communicating. i am a loyal person, but i have my limits - i cannot be expected to stay tied to a blog that isn't being used.

so what is this rule?

i am going to start breaking exclusives with blogs (or muses) that have been inactive for long periods of time with no communication or no sign of returning activity. and yes, this will apply even if someone is active on another blog of theirs, or is actively writing for other muses on a multi.

there will be some exceptions to this, particularly if the ship is built very specifically around one portrayal of a muse, but i won't put any guarantees in stone, just to be open about things.

what do you class as 'communication'?

talk to me. that's literally all it takes. if you've lost muse for your blog or a particular muse, that's fine - but tell me. communicate this with me. if you're just taking a short break from that muse but plan to return: great! if you genuinely can't see yourself coming back to the muse? also fine! still want to discuss and develop the ship away from the blog? i'm down for that.

i will not be angry or upset if you're dropping a muse or don't have it in you to be on that blog. i am always happy to park a ship (or ANY dynamic, for that matter) on the shelf for a while, and i can pick it back up again if needed. i find it very hard to throw things out, guys, trust me. i'll hold onto our dynamics until i'm forced to let go.

that being said, i do require continued discussion to maintain my interest in a ship. it doesn't have to be much - i'm not expecting people to send me essays or talk non-stop for hours or even every day. i just need something - random questions about their relationship, little ideas you've had for moments in their lives, even just knowing you're thinking about them on occasion is better than radio silence. so, if i'm not getting that from you and the blog/muse hasn't been used in a while.... maybe it's time to reevaluate that exclusive label.

i will, of course, communicate (or attempt to) with the involved partner if i come to this decision for our exclusive ship. and i want to stress: this is not personal. this has no bearing on how much i value our ship, the things we have developed, or you as a person and writing partner.

AND TO BE CLEAR:

this does not mean i am throwing out the ship entirely: i will still eagerly develop and write the ship if that blog(/muse) returns, we will simply no longer be exclusive for it. if activity continues, and providing i haven't developed another dynamic in the meantime, i may consider reinstating exclusives after a period of time - but i will only do this once, and i won't do it easily, which leads me onto:

i am also going to be stricter with exclusive ships as of this post.

i am usually exclusive for one of three reasons - first, that what i've built with someone is so specific to their portrayal of that muse that i cannot see me seeking out the ship with another portrayal. second, i have very specific ideas or thoughts about a "popular" ship and have found a partner whose ideas/thoughts align with mine and who i trust. third, it's a ship that involves characters no one would normally throw together and only makes sense in the world we've created for them.

as i said at the start of this post, i don't jump to exclusives easily (though it may sometimes seem that way). this just means that i'll need some more back and forth and to feel things out before i'll consider exclusives in future.

tl;dr: i'm gonna start breaking exclusives for ships involving inactive blogs or muses. sorry if this makes me a terrible person but i don't want to limit interactions with a dormant dynamic.