#damn this got me into the essay writing mood

[spinoff-antithesis]

finally cracked im writing my theories on color symbolism in rottmnt god help me

[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[blitzyn]

relax

alhaitham x m!reader

Request: well, since requests are open, perhaps I could request an alhaitham X male s/o where s/o has been really stressed lately with school and has been overworking himself. Because of this, alhaitham being the caring boyfriend he is comes to comfort and relax his beloved s/o with sex and aftercare. If possible, pls let alhaitham call his s/o a 'good boy' and just a praise kink in general, tysm!! 💕 — @ezraelo

a/n -> this mf reminds me of my dad so i kinda wrote what I think he'd say if i was in reader's situation tbh. NOT THE SEX THOUGH. anyways pgr fic first then hate sex w/childe next its been decades since I've done him (⁠｡⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠｡⁠) sigh sometimes i forget i don’t have to write so damn much

wc -> 3.6k

cw -> soft alhaitham (heart eyes pt2), anal fingering, anal sex, praise, not beta read

merry christmas and happy holidays!!

To say you were tired was an understatement—you were exhausted. Stressed. Angry. It felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

First, you accidentally woke up late, was scolded by your teacher when you arrived and made the "perfect" example on what a scholar from the Akademiya should not be. Then you had to study for several hours for a few of your upcoming exams and evaluations—all while having to take some more tests the following week.

And as if that wasn't e-fucking-nough, you had done horribly on one of your essays so now you had to redo it for a better score, on top of needing to start yet another one regarding... Something. You forgot what the prompt was. Honestly, you forgot to do a lot of things. Like eat. Or drink water. Which was something that really didn't help to improve your mood.

You stumbled through the door trying to pry your uniform off, haphazardly tossing your hat to the side. You felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to flop on your bed and stay in there for the rest of your miserable life. But, like the universe was trying to give you the biggest middle finger ever, one of the loops on your clothes got caught on the corner of a counter. While you'd normally just take it off and go on your merry way, you weren't having it today and just yanked yourself forward, tearing the loop and the fabric it was connected to.

Finally making it to your room, you flopped on the bed face-first, muffling the loud groan that came from you. You stayed like that for a moment longer before turning your head, remembering to breathe deeply.

Two knocks came from the door. "You okay?" Your boyfriend, Alhaitham, asked, leaning against the frame as he stared at you.

"You're smart. Figure it out yourself," you muttered bitterly, wincing at the accusatory tone in your voice. You sighed, deciding to face him. "Sorry."

He shrugged, walking to sit on the edge of your shared bed. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his expression unchanging even when he watched your brows furrow in irritation.

"It's just... Ugh," you grumbled, rolling your eyes childishly. "Just a bad week. It feels like everything's going against me." You rolled onto your back, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish. "I don't think I can catch up."

"You're in the Akademiya," Alhaitham said, giving you a look that made it seem like he didn't know why you were complaining. "Obviously it's going to be hard for you."

"'For you,'" you repeated, glaring at nothing in particular, but it was getting increasingly evident that you were beginning to direct your anger towards him. "Of course you don't get it. You've been smart your whole life."

He was quiet for a moment, letting you try to calm yourself before speaking again. "Don't sell yourself short like that. It's unhealthy."

You huffed. "It's not selling myself short if it's actually true." You pressed your palms against your eyes until you saw faint fireworks coloring the darkness. "I have to redo an essay because apparently it didn't go with damn prompt. Then I have to do another one, and I don't even know where to start, and—" you listed off your problems, your voice getting higher in pitch until you were on the verge of shedding tears, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of work you accidentally accumulated.

"Hey," he interrupted you, leaning to place a hand on your thigh. "Calm down." He gave you an unimpressed look when you snapped your mouth open to retort, watching you begrudgingly close it in defeat. "Breathe. You're getting worked up over things you can change."

But when you could hardly focus on utilizing the breathing techniques he taught you, he decided to take a different approach. "Let's have sex, then."

"What? Why? 'Cause of the post-nut clarity?" You sighed, rubbing your temple to stave off the impending headache after staring at him incredulously. Damn. Sometimes you forget how straightforward he could be.

Alhaitham gave you a look. It was deadpan—because when was it not?—but you could still sense the slightest bit of confusion. "If that's how you want to word it, yes," he said, before elaborating. "Sex can also help you relax and improve your immune system."

He quickly looked you up and down, and despite not saying anything, you knew what he was trying to imply. You looked like a mess.

"It can also help improve your quality of sleep," he added, crossing his arms against his chest. "It has a few other benefits than just feeling good, you know." He watched you ponder his suggestion, chewing on your lip absentmindedly before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you're doing all the work," you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

"That was the plan." The corners of his lips quirked up in a brief, subtle smirk as he leaned to place his hands on your shoulders to gently push you back down. "Just relax."

He continued when you nodded, running his hands along your body, gently caressing every curve and contour of your frame. An eyebrow raised in question when he felt the torn patch in your clothes but decided against mentioning it as he guided you out of your suffocating uniform with practiced ease. Already, you seemed a bit calmer than earlier, giving yourself a well-deserved stretch that made you remind him of a cat.

You felt the tension beginning to seep out of your body with every article of clothing that was carelessly tossed to the floor, reaching your hands out to tug him closer. He obliged without hesitation, sighing in satisfaction when he melded his lips with yours. His hands slid below your underclothes, snaking them upwards until they found your chest. He tweaked and pinched your nipples as he moved his way downwards, placing kisses along your jawline and neck.

You softly moaned, brushing your fingers through his hair that had him leaning into your hand. He removed your shirt, trailing appreciative kisses down your sternum. A hand made its way down your front toward your pants, slipping a hand inside to wrap his fingers around your flaccid dick. Your breath hitched, instinctively widening your legs to give him better access, much to his pleasure.

He was gentle; his hands were soft and careful, and neither of you were in a rush. You felt your eyes flutter shut as your lips parted with every quiet gasp and sigh that left you, and he couldn't help but stare.

It annoyed him how little you thought of yourself when he could clearly see you as something more. Sure, it irked him how you complained about things that could easily be changed if you put your effort into it, but you were also right. He always had it academically easy and often found it hard to connect with others or understand their problems on a level that wasn't with you. He was well aware of this issue, knowing that it often hindered his ability to comfort, and—for the first time in how long?—it frustrated him.

Even if he had no idea how to properly soften his words around you or to consistently change his facial expressions, he always showed he cared by spending time with you, teaching you new things, or helping you understand foreign concepts. But even then, he was willing to try to tell you that you were more than what those pompous Akademiya professors reduced you to, that you were better than what you said you were.

"Look at me," he said, his voice soft and smooth, coaxing your pretty eyes open. He slipped his hands out of your shirt and cupped your cheeks tenderly, ensuring your focus on him. "It doesn't matter what everyone says about you when they don't understand that you have strengths that rest beyond the traditional Akademiya expectations."

"But that doesn't—"

He gave you yet another stern look, to which you quieted down with a huff. "It's okay to struggle. Everyone does at some point. Even those professors found something difficult before they became what they are. But you know what they did?"

He paused, gauging your reaction. He was aware that what he was saying probably didn't make you feel better or make the most sense, but he hoped that you could feel the sincerity in his voice. "They took a step back, took a deep breath, and figured out what they were doing wrong. They didn't do that overnight or by working themselves to the bone. That's what you need to acknowledge."

"But all my other colleagues are doing fine, and I'm the only one struggling..." You appreciated his words, truly, but they did little to quell your worries.

"Are you? How do you know that for sure?" He countered, sliding his hands down to caress your hips. He watched you pursed your lips, squirming slightly under his gaze. "Point is, you shouldn't try to compare yourself to everyone around you and overwork yourself because that only leads to bad work and a bigger hole for you to climb out of. You have everything else to be proud of—not just your academic qualities. Understand? Besides, you made it into the Akademiya. That's something very few people can do in the first place."

You looked away with a frown, but you nodded softly. Even though it sucked knowing that you weren't the best, he did have a point. Wallowing in your own failure did nothing to better yourself, as much as you hated to admit it.

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling a little. His thumbs swiped underneath your eyes, clearing away any of the tears that happened to escape you.

"Don't let them define you. Define yourself," he said finally, leaning back down to kiss you again. It was soft, tender, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of affection he harbored for you. He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "Do you still want to do this?"

You nodded again, giving him a quick peck to the lips before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Mhm. I really need those benefits." Plus, you didn't favor being horny and sad.

Your lips curved in a smug grin when you saw his own quirk upwards in amusement, but he didn't comment on it. He sat up to tug your pants and underwear down, revealing your semi-hard cock. You shivered instinctively but kept your focus on him, waiting in anticipation for him to continue.

He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from your nightstand, squeezing a generous amount on his fingers before pressing one into your hole. You sighed, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. He only offered a few pumps of his hand before adding a second one in, gently spreading them apart in a scissoring motion.

He wrapped his free hand around your cock, slowly jerking you off. He rubbed his thumb over the tip to smear the precum across your skin as wet sounds gradually filled the room. You noticed his eyes locked on your face and the expressions you wore, committing them to memory. He added a third finger for good measure, feeling you tense reflexively before relaxing just as fast.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," he praised, his voice low. He curled his fingers, pressing them against your prostate. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sound of your moan, straining against the fabric. "I'm almost done. Then we can start."

You nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose when he began targeting the sensitive spot inside you. You could practically feel every surge of heat shoot up and down your spine, ending at your fingertips. Alhaitham could feel it too, every time your cock throbbed in his hold.

Your body felt warm and tingly when he moved both hands away from your body, wiping them off using a few tissues atop your nightstand. He grabbed the lube again and poured some on his palm to coat his cock, using his free hand to spread one of your thighs a bit wider. He peered up through his lashes, subtly raising an eyebrow in question. He continued as soon as you nodded, slowly pushing himself inside you.

You both let out a satisfied groan as he filled you, grasping onto his wrists as he held onto your hips.

"Fuck," he hissed, pushing further until he bottomed out completely. "You're such a good boy. You're taking me in so well." He perked up in attention when he felt you tighten at his words, noting how your eyes fluttered shut like you were savoring them. He wasn't overly aware of this newfound information, but maybe you had accidentally brought it to his attention now that you're stressed?

Either way, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to continue. “You feel so good, [Name]," he praised, leaning down to press his lips against the skin underneath your earlobe. You could feel the low rumble of his voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He let you take a moment to adjust to him before moving, gently thrusting his hips.

You noticed him moving away again as you opened your eyes, finding yourself enamored with the way his muscles flexed in every movement of his. Soft gasps and moans left your lips when you looked up, instantly noticing his gaze on you.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled shyly, squirming a bit. It wasn’t that you hated having him look at you—frankly, that’s all you longed for sometimes, it’s just that what you did hit you. Being as vulnerable as you were wasn’t something you preferred, even when Alhaitham didn’t berate you for it.

“You were staring at me, first,” he countered swiftly, and you could hear the rare undertone of his amusement in his voice. It was your favorite sound. “Besides, what’s the harm in looking at the most handsome man in Sumeru?” His monotony nearly made his words laughable, but you could see that he was genuinely trying. Knowing that sent butterflies in your stomach all over again.

You looked away, effectively flustered with all his attention. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Only because you make it embarrassing,” he said, sliding a hand upwards to toy with one of your nipples. He subtly shifted his hips, angling them so that his cock better pressed against your prostate. He watched you intently when you let out a throaty moan, feeling his dick throb inside you.

You reflexively clenched your thighs tighter against his hips, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You snaked a hand down to your leaking cock, wrapping your fingers around the base to give it a squeeze. “You can go faster,” you muttered, looking down to watch the way he slid in and out of you.

He nodded with a quiet hum, adjusting his grip on your waist to shift the weight on his knees to sacrifice his slower, deeper thrusts for quick and shallow ones. Moaning, you jerked yourself off in time with his movements, unable to tear your gaze away from him, even for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you brought your free hand up to bring him closer to you by the back of his head. You kissed him needily and fervently, letting out noises that mixed in with the wet sounds that came from your hole. Your body rocked gently, listening intently to the rustling of your bedsheets and Alhaitham’s deep, husky breaths.

Suddenly, he lifted a hand up to place over your abdomen, lightly pushing down on it just as he buried himself balls deep inside you. He paused for a moment, sighing as he watched you squirm at the sudden stop before continuing, feeling himself move in and out of you. You could feel the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust to your prostate, back arching, legs tightening around his waist.

“Fuck, I’m…” you panted, clenching tighter around his cock. “I’m so close, ‘Haitham.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he said, gently moving your hand away from your leaking cock to wrap his fingers around it. Quiet slaps mixed in with your soft noises and his breathy grunts as he fucked you a bit harder, eyes fixated on the blissful expression on in your face. His dick throbbed inside you as he eagerly chased after his own orgasm, leaning down to press his lips to your jaw, kissing up towards your ear.

“C’mon, [Name], cum for me,” he whispered, sending yet another wave of heat shoot up and down your spine. You could hardly stop the stream of moans that spilled from your lips as he focused on the tip of your cock, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive spot just below it, as if trying to coax out your cum.

“Oh god,” your voice was strained as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten to an unbearable degree, trying to hold out just a little longer. “F—Fuck! Alhaitham!” You moaned in ecstasy when you finally came, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. You tensed and trembled as your dick spurt cum on your stomach and his fingers as he helped you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful when you orgasm,” he groaned, his thrusts beginning to lose rhythm as he neared his own climax. He dug his fingers into your waist tighter, muttering praises into your ear when you began squirming at the discomfort of your overstimulation. It didn’t take much longer for him to finish as he stilled, gritting his teeth when he quickly pulled out to stroke himself to completion. He sighed in satisfaction when his orgasm subsided, leaving your abdomen coated in ropes of his cum.

“Wh—Why did you pull out?” You panted, wiping a bead of sweat off of your forehead.

“Isn’t it annoying to clean up afterward? You're always complaining about it whenever we have sex,” he questioned after a moment, taking a second to bask in the afterglow before getting up to reach for a tissue to clean your skin. He put his pants back on, gathering your clothes to put them in a laundry basket.

You shrugged. “I mean, sometimes. But I’m gonna take a bath either way.” You blinked in confusion when you saw him quirk a brow, fidgeting a bit when he didn’t stop staring at you.

“No. You’re going to sit and wait here while I make you something to eat, first,” he instructed, leaving no room for negotiation. “Afterwards, you’re going to go to sleep. Then you can take a bath when you wake up.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled audibly, quickly reminding you that you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. "But then I'm gonna be all sticky and gross when I eat," you said, knowing how much he disliked having dirty bedsheets for too long. It surprised you when he shrugged, leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to decide.

"If you want to take a bath first, then I'll help you," he offered. You swiftly nodded, wanting to eat clean and comfortably. He nodded and told you to wait for a moment as he prepared the water for you, leaving you by yourself for a while until he returned. The two of you walked into the bathroom where a bathtub of warm water awaited you. But just as you raised your leg to enter, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. Luckily, Alhaitham was there to keep you from falling with a firm hand on your arm, carefully helping you into the water.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes darting across your face for any sign of distress. He relaxed upon seeing nothing but waited for your response for further confirmation.

"Yeah. It's just something that happens when I get too hungry, y'know?" You explained sheepishly, splashing some of the water onto your arms and back.

"No, I don't know." He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. "I'll be right back, then."

You hummed to yourself, not minding his absence as you savored the warmth surrounding you, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You nearly fell asleep in the time it took for Alhaitham to return, jumping in surprise at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," he spoke, returning to your side with a bowl in his hand. "Eat this for now."

He kneeled down, bringing the bowl close enough to let you reach in and take whatever was inside. They were fruits, you saw as you happily grabbed one, tossing it into your mouth. You had to stop yourself from grabbing a handful and eating it all in one go, forcing yourself to appreciate every bite. You noticed him shifting behind you, leaning forward instinctively when he began cleaning your back with a small, wet towel.

The two of you basked in the comforting silence for a while as you let him take care of you until you turned your head to face him. "I love you," you said with a little grin.

"I know," he replied, putting the bowl onto the floor.

"Say it back." You pouted, but you knew he was only teasing.

His mouth quirked up in a faint smile, leaning forward to give you a quick peck on your lips. "I love you too."

[nights-at-crystarium]

on authenticity

My mood in the recent months keeps going from bad to worse. Today I randomly fell into the rabbit hole of checking out other patreon artists, which always grounds me in reality and cheers me up, perhaps in a weird way. Essay incoming \o/

Authenticity is a blob of a word that sounds almost pretentious nowadays. It gets sneered at. You either sell your soul, or you don't earn with your art.

What's authentic, being true to yourself, will vary from person to person. It's like a sliding scale of suffering that you will tolerate in exchange for a coin, while convincing yourself that you have fun.

The harsh truth of modern world is that if your art pays for your living, you've already reached success, no matter how you may feel about the type of content you actually make for that money. Insert the meme furry nsfw art here. Or not furry. Or even sfw, but comms, lots of comms every month. Or merch. Anything that sells. Products first, art second.

Marrying passion and profession is virtually impossible, yet I'm doing it, only thanks to your support. I'm acutely aware that, even as I choose to be "real" and talk about an artist's money-making in a raw way, it's still patreon talk, and yes, I'll plug the link as well, so technically this entire post is an ad *fingerguns*

I just feel so privileged being able to create whatever the fuck I want, literally, I take no comms/requests/guidance on what and how should I draw/write, I post experimental, sometimes provocative stuff, and still make enough to survive. This sole fact should get me through the day, whatever other struggles I may be facing currently (I am. I don't wanna talk about it rn, instead I distract myself with this text), I should always remember the unique place in life I managed to carve for myself.

There are madmen (gender-neutral) who toss $10-20 at me every month. The majority "only" pledges $1, the notorious tier that gets treated as a tip jar with no rewards by many other creators. All of my rewards are the same at $1 and $20 (save for the one-time digital artbook download at $10, just to be perfectly clear), it's a conscious choice and a risk I continue taking because it's how I am. I used to split rewards between tiers in the past, before xiv, and it was a lot of busy work while it made me treat my art less as art and more as product. This pic goes into the cheap box, this pic goes into the expensive box. Every month. It's. Definitely not for every artist.

Logistic hell of splitting and delivering rewards, different posts with less comments per post, also my discord roles/channels would have to be split, nowadays it's just patron, whether you give me $1 or $20, there's no visual disparity, you're hanging out in the same cool kids' club, and collectively making happy noises on Fragments Fridays.

Could I be making more money if I got rid of the $1 tier? Yeah. But, mercifully, after 2 years I don't need to. I legit make enough currently, my only worry is to keep what I have. Patrons don't stay forever, 2-5 people would leave every month, about the same number would join (hence my patreon ads, I need to keep people reminded of it, even if it makes me feel guilty every damn time). I did Research (tm) in the past to find out that my "bleeding" numbers are below average, i.e. it's good, people generally tend to stick around.

I put a lot of emphasis on the $1 because I'm kinda proud of what I managed to accomplish while staying self-detrimentally humble. Literally doing an impossible thing in a world that keeps burning down. So yeah if you've been feeling bad for only giving me $1, what matters is that there's enough $1s to make a difference. Together you're creating a phenomenon, and you should be proud.

There are many stupid little principles, hills that I'll die on, that make up my authenticity. I chose to speak of it here and now in order to sorta sell myself, so it feels hypocritical x'D But if I don't shine a spotlight on this, who will. I'm old and jaded and increasingly terrified of how insincere the internet's becoming. Everything's fake, sugarcoated, polished for sale. My art's always been a scream of defiance against all that, now that I'm more or less established, I wanna scream louder. Thanks for hearing my screams. You can scream with me too if you want.

[omppupiiras]

my long & rambly thoughts about People's Champion the album 🍄‍🟫

Ready To Go.. ahh, first I have to make a confession that my first impression of this song was basically "..that's it?". But in my defence it was in the middle of the night & I was not maybe in the most receptive mood. 😂

but then over the course of a few days I went from "ok maybe i like it actually" all the way to "WAIT. it is a bop and also WHY AM I GETTING EMOTIONAL OVER IT? 😭😭" I could write a whole ass post about all my ready to feels and thoughts. It is, of course, about how Jere's ready to go. He doesn't care if the shoes he's stepping into are too big for him, he doesn't care that people don't believe in him. He knows that people only want to see him fail and are waiting to say "I told you so" when it happens. But he doesn't care about any of that because HE believes in himself. He's not giving up and he's going to give it his all and hell, this whole thing COULD blow up in his face but he doesn't care. He's ready to GO.

(and there's also something very naive and bittersweet about ready to go to me, he's giving this thing his all and throwing himself into it with eyes wide open, believing and trusting and full of expectations, but he doesn't actually know or understand where this road will take him. he will actually succeed beyond his or anyone else's wildest dreams, but there's no way he could have known before it happened how much it would cost him)

and ofc CCC coming immediately after ready to go is absolutely PERFECT placement!! I immediately became obsessed with the idea of the story this album was going to tell when we got the album art and title, and OH BOY. They did not disappoint!!

Because speaking of this album telling a story, next we have Tavavoltti. On first listen it's kind of a light-hearted funny song with fun sounds. But it following CCC makes one realize that hey. Wait. Oh. It's actually saying so much about his experiences after CCC. Like with ready to go i could write a darn essay about this song but.. it's about him being unable to say no. It's about him being the funny guy, and hey, funny guys can't not be happy, right?

(Täst roolista ryydyn, mut hymy ei hyydy

Oon syypää suun hymyyn, siks rooliini tyydyn

Everybody wants something from him and they don't mind tearing him apart to get it. And he's got everything a person could want, right? Surely? He's definitely not supposed to complain, so he resigns himself to the role of a circus monkey, the masochist that he is, and pushes himself to his absolute limits. (not to say that this song is all sad bc it's not! the chorus IS hopeful though maybe in a slightly melancholy way) but ONCE AGAIN a song that sounds like a bop is actually way more deep and meaningful than it has any right to be!! 😭

playing this role exhausts me, but my smile doesn't slip

i'm the reason for your smile, and that's why i accept my role)

and whew speaking of being a masochist, next we have ruoska. damn. DAMN. this album, man. i love ruoska moving on

Kot Kot, kot kot. This song boldly starts off with "mayday", and isn't that a choice? To me Kot Kot is about Jere needing help but he hasn't admitted that to himself yet. He has given away so much of himself yet he doesn't understand why he feels so empty now. The partying and drinking don't really help but it's all he knows how to do.

Skit immediately following Kot Kot kills me DEAD. It makes both of these songs desperately sad. In Kot Kot, he needs help. In Skit, he's asking for it and being dismissed. My theory is that the therapist in Skit represents how difficult it was for him to reach out for help or even to have people who understand. How could he even explain to someone how something so amazing can be so terrible? Does anyone even care to hear that, to listen to him talk about it? His problems aren't normal people problems, anymore.

Autiomaa, autiomaa, autiomaa. I loved Autiomaa from the first snippet he shared and the full song did not disappoint. Bye bye my old favorite Käärijä song Menestynyt Yksilö, Autiomaa has taken your place. 😭 Seems like I have a theme going on lol, I love songs where he gets real and personal, and in Autiomaa he does that on a whole new level.

I love that he was brave enough to write Autiomaa and bold enough to make sure people understood Autiomaa is a big deal to him. He wanted to share his feelings and be understood and heard. The music video is such a piece of art and besides being so emotional this song is just so damn GOOD. He's such a master of the finnish language in the way he writes lyrics.

I love sex = money and of course in true käärijä style it's a bop but it also says something very real with its lyrics. but hey! sex sells! better get selling then

bananas is the song i have the least feelings & thoughts about haha. I like all the foodstuff lyrics but that's about it 😂 maybe i will have more feelings about it when i hear it live

next we have Huhhahhei and I must confess.. it's not for me fam. I don't like it. 🙈 I can't put this into words in any way that makes sense, but to me Huhhahhei is different to every other Käärijä song. The lyrics are generic in a way that almost makes it feel like this song is about nothing at all. I don't see it as a love song either, to me the lyrics are just saying words to say them without really meaning anything. so for that reason to me Huhhahhei is the song that fits on this album the least.

icip kind of feels like a breath of fresh air in the album - it's crazy it's party, life is life. things aren't so doom and gloom anymore. with its placement in the album it feels like jere accepts all the good and the bad and now he has learned to enjoy being an artist again. he's had a hell of a party that he couldn't escape, maybe he lost his mind a little along the way, but he made it out to the other side. ta-da, ta-da, ta-da...

and lastly, People's Champion. It's a lovely song and a perfect song to end the album with. but i have written so many words now i dont have much left for people's champion dgdfgldf but i love it a lot and im so glad jere won the battle for this to be included bc truly, what would this album be without this song??

[dullgecko]

bear with me here bc this is a semi long one? a few weeks ago (i meant to send it then too but was intimidated) a friend and i were talking and had Thoughts as to how the Bad Kids would text- and so i kinda wanted to say our takes and see yours.

also i am so sorry bc this was longer than i meant it to be.

Adaine (Freshman year) uses proper grammar and punctuation. her texts would be the most like reading a formal paper. no typos (or next to none), point succinct, and one message. also no slang or contractions, at least at first. Junior year? not much has changed, but she uses some emojis and abbreviations. in her crystal, all the gang is their name and maybe an emoji to represent them. her texts are all typed out in the messages app, especially long ones. she Knows what shes saying- although there is definitely a lot of editing bc anxiety be like that

Fabian? he used all the text slang, minimal punctuation. especially in freshman year, he wanted to be seen as cool and, in some ways, tough. come junior year? he Knows he's cool- hes the maximum legend. minimal typos (intentional ones Not included), Everyone is a nickname (he'd never admit it, but Riz is *not* in as "The Ball", hes in as "The Ball (🕵️‍♂️🔍🏀)", or some other combination of emojis with it). Punctuation? optional. *hates* double texting, but also doesn't go back and edit his messages as he writes them so sometimes theyre a little out of order.

Fig? her messages are often chaos. a few more typos, will send different thoughts as messages. uses some slang, but not always (it depends on her mood). the rest of the gang is under some sort of nickname/initials/hyper specific reference that most wont understand. some are fully just emoji combos. Will use emojis regularly, will use slang, doesn't care if she makes typos. long messages are done in her notes app, and the app is definetly passcode protected (except its the date of her first kiss with Ayda so its easy to guess). punctuation? nah. capitalization? rarely

Gorgug? doesn't use capitalization, but does use punctuation. changes how he types when talking to TBK or his parents. a few typos, but hes probably got autocorrect on so most don't slip through. tends to get his thoughts out in minimal messages. his friemds are in as their names, nothing special. some text slang, some emojis, but not often.

Kristen? if you think Fig's style is a mess, Kristen's is worse. Her friends are all under nicknames and emojis, her messages filled with typos, autocorrect and auto capitalization are off, and she rarely uses punctuation. will double text, her sentences are run ons, she over uses emojis, and she over uses text slang.

Riz? his texting depends on what he's doing. working a case? likely to have a few more typos or words that don't have spaces between them. will shorten words so less focus is off the case. when he isn't busy, will send a whole essay if he's asking a simple question. autocorrect is off because it annoys him and kept saying his name was wrong, but his crystal does automatically capitalize words. his friends are in as nicknames plus a couple emojis to identity them quickly. doesn't use emojis often, at least when texting, but will often react with them instead of responding.

Adaine is for sure the bad kid that has the most impeccable grammar when texting. Its almost like she's writing a formal letter, though she does chill out a bit after sophomore year and starts typing more casually. At the very least she stops beginning her texts with 'To *name*' and ending them with 'Regards, Adaine Abernant'.

Fabian would be almost as bad as Adaine, have you heard the man talk? Though he does sometimes not bother with the grammar and spelling if he's tired. Frequently uses emojis. Sends pictures CONSTANTLY.

Riz is a multiple texter. He needs to get the thoughts out of his brain NOW and he'll be damned if he's going to properly format those texts. Fabian has to suffer through this the most and sometimes he'll get about 20 texts in rapid succession as Riz infodumps on him as quickly as possible. Has the small issue that if he's tired he'll forget the common words for things and Fabian gets a horrible mishmash of thoughts that are half ghukliak spelled out phonetically (because of course his crystal doesnt have a goblin keyboard setting) and completely incomprehensible. It's more likely to happen at 3am and the ONLY way you should respond to these texts is 'go to bed' or you'll get 50 more.

Gorgug is the most normal out of everyone. Just texts like a regular guy. Will sometimes multi-text but its not excessive. His messages are at least understandable.

Fig is almost as bad as Riz with the multi-texting. Could vibrate your crystal right off the table if she's in a mood. Texts flip between pictures and messages constantly. Punctuation and spelling are an afterthought.

Kristen will read a text message, make a note to reply to it later then forget about it. If you need an immediate answer from her about anything you're better off calling.

[starlitangels]

That’s Mine

Another Guy/Honey ficlet for the girl who can’t seem to write a full fic for these two to save her life

—

I glanced up from my laptop upon hearing the apartment door open. “I’m home!” Guy called at the same time I heard the thumping of him literally kicking his shoes off at the door.

“Welcome back,” I said flatly, going back to my report.

I could hear him groan with the several popping noises that came with him cracking his back. “I’m gonna shower,” he announced as the front door shut.

“Careful. Kayla left a makeup bomb in the bathroom,” I warned.

“How does she even do that? Like we should not be finding powdered foundation in the bathtub of all places. A little falling off the palette or brush into the sink is one thing but like the bathtub?” He appeared in the doorway of my room and leaned against the frame on one shoulder. “I don’t get it. I’ve worn some makeup in my day but I’ve never been that messy with it.”

I grunted and shrugged.

Guy sighed dramatically. “Not in the mood to talk, honey?”

I shot him a withering glare. “Go get in the shower before I punt your ass into the bathroom and bar the door. I’m trying to work.”

He smirked lasciviously. “If you bar a door that locks from the inside and swings inward, you’d have to be in the bathroom with me.”

I raised a brow. “I’d figure it out. Go away.”

He winked with a click of his cheek and pushed off the doorframe, vanishing down the hall.

I went back to my paper.

Apparently I got really sucked into it because I didn’t even process that I heard the shower start and stop a few minutes later. Hell, I barely even processed Guy singing showtunes while he was in it.

I vaguely heard the bathroom door creak open on that ungodly loud hinge I still needed to oil (the landlords had promised to do it months ago and never had and I was getting sick of it), while Guy continued his one-man-show of Phantom of the Opera. But I ignored all of it. Guy’s singing was a constant in the apartment and I’d just learned to tune it out.

When the essay was done, I submitted it and finally stood up, wincing as my knees popped.

With a heavy sigh, I left my room.

Guy spun around in the kitchen almost instantly. In his favorite hot pink “Kiss the Cook” apron that had been a gag gift from his siblings that he’d actually loved. “There’s my favorite person!”

I grunted. Then froze. “Hang on a second here,” I said, folding my arms. “Hm. Black T-shirt way too long and wide in the arms, logo for a band you don’t listen to poking out from under the top of the apron. Coincidentally matching the one that went missing from my things after a load of laundry a few weeks ago…” As I spoke, I undid the neck loop of the apron and let the top fall away from his torso.

He chuckled nervously, ears and neck turning blotchy and red. “Heh-heh… uh…”

“Guy Erikson, that’s my shirt,” I snapped.

“Whaaat? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Obviously this is mine. See how it just fits me perfectly—ow, ow! Okay okay you don’t have to pinch I get it I get it—damn!” He pouted as I let go of his shoulder. “Can’t I just borrow it for the rest of tonight though? It’s so soft. It’s not my fault that you have the comfiest shirts on the planet!”

“Give it back. Now.”

He sighed dramatically and stripped it off, hurling it at me with all the grace and power of a newly-hatched bird. “Fiiine. You loveless, joyless buzzkill.”

“Thieving parasite,” I retorted, taking the shirt back to my room and chucking it into my hamper.

“Just for that, I’m not including you in my dinner plans.” He whipped the apron back up over his torso and started fixing the neck loop.

“I never asked you to. And I’m going out tonight anyway.”

His head snapped up to look at me. “What?! With who?”

I raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

Guy spluttered. “Oh. Well. I, uh—no, obviously. It’s just—you know what? Never mind.” He turned back to the stove and went back to preparing his pasta.

I snorted. “It’s my stupid reading group for my upper level class. There’s gonna be like five people there. It’s not a date. Don’t wait up for me, honey,” I said sarcastically before ducking back into my bedroom and slamming the door.

I picked the band shirt out of the hamper and held it up to my nose. Curious.

It definitely smelled like Guy.

A small grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. I folded the shirt and set it on my desk. “You know what? I’ll wash it later,” I muttered to myself.

—

Tag list: @pinksparkl @darlin-collins

[darkurgetrash]

Writer Interview Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tag my kitten @savriea! I love this format ❤️ no pressure tags to @lemonsrosesandlavender @forget-me-maybe @freesidexjunkie @blackstaff-blast @crystal-overdrive @notlikeparis xo

When did you start writing?

I was writing awful emo-type fiction (featuring yandere tropes that I didn’t know were a thing) then got into fanfic around ?13/14? with Death Note. I think so anyway, it’s nearly impossible for me to remember what age I did what 🤷‍♀️

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I enjoy literary horror and absurdist fiction, which I used to write more of but haven’t really felt motivated to since venturing back into romance writing. I have a few short stories though from back in the day in these genres that I was thinking about publishing somewhere, but I wouldn’t know where to begin!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I’ve always been inspired by Diana Wynn Jones and have been compared to her from before, but I’m not sure I agree with that because I am nowhere near her level — that would be the dream, though! When I used to write more creatively, I very much tried to emulate Sayaka Murata, my queen. 🙇‍♀️

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don’t have a designated space, but I do find it easier to write when I’m commuting (because there’s no wifi/signal and I have nothing better to do). So… the London Underground? 😁

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Being so bored that “I might as well write”, hahahaha! I have tonnes of hobbies though so, unfortunately, I don’t get in the writing mood very often. 🤣

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I tend to always end up writing about depression and trauma, even when I didn’t intend to hehe. 🤭 Write what you know, right? Tbh, I’m unfortunately quite a pessimistic person who is more naturally inclined towards melancholy, so I think these things tend to slip into my characters. That said, I always want to make things feel hopeful and whimsical too — probably as a form of escapism — so I suppose that surprises me!

What is your reason for writing?

A loaded question… 👀 I wrote a long answer just now but deleted it because I couldn’t quite properly express what I meant lol, so the tldr is: escapism, self expression, and fulfillment🫡

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love all comments ❤️❤️ but also, if you’re writing mini essays under my fics, you have a special place in my heart.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Hmm, depends on what I’m writing. For the most part, I’d like readers to think I’m funny and enjoy my humour, and, of course, enjoy the story I create!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I personally enjoy my sense of humour in writing. My one-shot ‘Gods Damned Gale Dekarios!’ and some parts of HITMC have been some of my favourite writing I’ve ever done, and my short stories I used to write used tonnes of irony and absurdist humour. I think I’m also good at writing about characters’ inner thoughts and feelings — when it comes to anything external, however, I struggle. 💀

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think I’m pretty average tbh — enjoyable enough to read but nothing super special. I have a lot of cognitive issues that make writing really hard for me, especially when it comes to, like I said, writing about anything that’s happening externally: action, the senses, settings, etc. I think I especially have problems when it comes to the all important “show not tell” rule, because girlypop has no visualisation skills. 🤣 But overall, I think as long as people are enjoying my writing, I don’t see it as a reason to be hard on myself. I’ve kinda given up on any ambitions to write anything more than what I do now because my disabilities are too extreme and also getting worse with age, but hey-ho, it is what it is.

[plaguery]

long post time

im not really in the mood to write a solid essay with a structured thesis i just kind of want to infodump and explore the subject as i write. unfortunately for everyone but me and a select damned few this will be about zenos but it will also be about my wol/the concept of the wol in general (there will be a perhaps strange interplay between the two because i feel like siv really highlights my commentary on the concept of the wol but i still recognize that shes her own character)

so.

i scrapped together a basic idea for my wol quite a while before i even played the game myself. my friends were heavily into it and i wanted to join the crowd despite not having wifi at the time to even download the game. i used what little guidance they gave me of researching the ffxiv races and the seventh umbral calamity to throw something together. core idea: femroe from a village, specialized in funerary traditions, born to a former pirate, largely raised by her aunt, propelled into adventuring after her aunt dies and her shitty pink catboyfriend breaks up with her.

as i played the game, i developed her backstory more and got clearer on specific details and locations. but even into heavensward and cumulative weeks of gameplay, for the life of me i could not get a grasp on her character. the non playable characters were rich and i enjoyed following them around, albeit mildly, and so i continued to power through, aiming for the later expansions with promised quality. i struggled to connect to the game by story or premise. often, i felt confused, baffled, or humored by contrived plot lines and conflicting messages.

straddling this line of willing reluctance to move further, to fully engage and give in to the "fantasy" of the game--one which posits that ultimate hope of a select few can rally together a world on the brink--i began to understand my wol to be as willingly reluctant as myself, the player, in her adventures. she still felt intrinsically vague to me. her purpose was as missing as mine was, more a waiting, an expectation of change as reliable as a roll of the dice, the turning of the cards. i couldn't call her bluff, because she simply didnt have one.

as the player, i was enriched through learning the mechanics of the game, progressing in skill, and with every mark of achievement: ever the more able to level our foes. where i couldn't find enjoyment with the story or premise, i was able to sustain my efforts forward through enjoyment with digital battle. it was not until that particularly rainy nightfall in doma, with the foiled assassination of our newest enemy, that i finally felt a "click" with the story. we were purposefully kept alive, for a second time, by an opponent embroiled in the philosophy of violence for violence's sake. driven forward by the promise of enjoyment with our digital battles.

the warrior of light, for all intents and purposes, is a template character. they exist for the player to insert a character of their own design, one that the developers cannot predict or reasonably accommodate with the mass of players who log on everyday. this character can then essentially be anything or anyone. with any background, any motive, any connection and viewpoint to and of this world. but in their limitless potentiality, they must also be a kind of nothingness, a malleable emptiness, at least to function as the playable template required for the main scenario quests to move forward.

but our template is united by certain factors. as a mmorpg, the idea of community is interwoven throughout the fabric of the game, a rallying cry of unison behind our light parties, our trials, and our companies. we are members of guilds, associations, military factions. whatever drives us forth, we are strung forward by violence, battles won and lost, tempering our skills both literally and digitally to rise to each occasion. and no matter our motive, our history, or the alliances of our hearts, it is unmistakable that the warrior of light is hailed as a hero.

against our warrior of light, zenos makes sense to me as a literary foil, unique in what exactly he contrasts and reflects. he is as much a means to the end as the warrior of light, a plot device of villain and hero. he lacks character outside of vague philosophical ideals in an embrace of bloodshed, the temptation of meaning through ultimate pursuit. without the bonds that our warrior of light holds in contrast to him, his meaning can only be found in his lone design. with the actions he must take in his role, no matter his motive, his history, or any alliance of his heart, it is unmistakable that he is reviled as a villain.

this aspect of emptiness to him, i feel, is not fully engaged with until endwalker, but he constantly calls into question this relation to violence, its purpose and meaning, and the power of physical (in the player's case, digital) attainment.

after zenos left us to grow in strength for the second time and we find ourselves the inspiration for yet another rally of the citizenry, my wol finally began to make sense to me. i saw the idea of the bluff itself in her, that her willing reluctance, this paradoxical hollow, was what made her her. admittedly, this was partly reflecting my own disconnect to the game so far onto her, but it was also a championing of what kept me in the first place, the value that i found as a player in leveling my jobs and completing the duties and trials that first scared me as an amateur gamer. to play a game, even if you don't find worth in the story, you can typically look to satisfaction in the gameplay. if you don't find it, the sensible action would be to stop playing and move on. but you made it this far. again, cumulative weeks of gameplay, and i made it this far.

siv, my wol, was born to death and violence, inheriting a funerary position from her father and a disgraced pirate's vengeance from her mother.

"She had ever been cold, distant, untouchable. To be a symbol, something separated from life into the ideal, was her most natural state of being. Less a person than a personification of the care and cruelty of death all set adrift into the cask of a body, struggling to mold itself against the flesh, clumsily adopting habits and gestures and preferences."

she exists in tandem with her creation as a warrior of light, a template, an idea more than a character with unique traits that solidify fantasy into something resembling reality. if not for some strike of fate, she could have ended up on the other side, the villain seeking nothing but violence, perfected. and for a time, there was quite a villainous life she led, massacring others alongside her mother.

"Morality meant as little as the rest of her life. Morality was another meaningless, inscrutable gesture of the world. There was no right or wrong to her violence at sea and yet, something was still amiss. It was not enough. Nothing could be enough."

but still, even later as hero, she follows violence.

zenos eventually asks an interesting question of jullus in endwalker,

"Would you be 'happier' had I a 'good reason'? [...] If my motives met with your approval, would you no longer resent the outcome?"

to probe these questions further: what exactly makes zenos' violence villainous? what exactly makes the warrior of light's violence heroic? do their motives, histories, and alliances inform these delineations and where exactly do we draw the line? is there and can there be an exact line?

i wanted a warrior of light who indirectly asked these same questions back; a character, who perhaps had no right being a hero, thrust into the role. would people be disappointed to find out that their hero lacked 'good reasons' for her acts of liberation and protection, large and small? would they resent her, knowing that she feels no intrinsic sense of right or wrong?

what do we make of a story where both hero and villain are hollow?

"These people are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever." (Jude 1:12 & 13, NIV)

"In that transcendent moment, what was it that I sought in you? And what was it that you sought in me?"

"Never have I understood those around me. Understood their obsessions. Besieged by their banality, the world was a mire of tedium and trivialities. [...] What of you, my mirror?"

accounting for the blankness of the warrior of light, zenos and wol look to each other as personified void trying to find the light. in absence of a clear, defined character to examine, zenos is left to address the player's shared thrill of combat with him and conclude their sameness in this respect.

by this point in time, my wol, siv, has changed much from her beginnings. directly, she has been changed by the people around her and has come to understand a purpose for herself. her hollowness serves her, her ability to take and accept an abundance of unanswerable questions without limits allows her to brighten the path for others.

siv, through all the trials, found fulfillment.

zenos, through his mirror, found understanding.

and in the mirror, siv finds an acceptance, a peace, a resolution that she, as the warrior of light, was able to reach even the most unreachable of places.

[slashingdisneypasta]

You've been sending me perfect asks on my blog... So now I shall retaliate >:) (I know you probably know who this is, but I got too embarrassed to send this from my normal blog and I couldn't figure out how to switch blogs for asks 😅)

- Freddy lightly dragging his blades over your shoulders and back to get a reaction out of you. He can use his dream magic to control how sharp the blades are (I hope) so it can be completely safe texture play.

- (im mot sure exactly how you feel about Audrey... But i do know you like their voice~) Audrey II crooning and sweet talking to you while you're trying to do your work. They can't exactly sneak up behind you and whisper in your ear, but that doesn't mean they don't can't make you flustered with what they say.

- You're on a hunting trip with Jim Bickerman and whoever else is with him. You all settle down for the night, but there seems to not be enough tents for all of you. There's only one tent left, and you and Jim are the only ones who don't have one yet... And that old man is looking at you with that damn smirk of his, "Well, ain't this quite the predicament sweetheart~?"

- Being in a relationship with Wheezy and Greasy... And they both get ~in the mood~ at the same time. How would you go about this?

- Cruella designing specific outfits she wants to see you in, just for you... Including clothes to wear when you're supposed to be waiting for her~

I wanted to add more... But I ran out of ideas XD I hope you like these 😏 XD

AHHH! Yes!! I am so glad you have been enjoying my asks!! Their will be more!! And thankkkk you so much for these <3<3 I HAD to write some of them XDD Just like, excerpts ^^

Includes/Warnings:

Audrey II x Reader- Voice kink, sexual references, human/plant relations, manhandling, and someeee... touching. 🙃🙃🙃😅 (Not explicit)

Cruella De Vil x AFAB!Reader- ... you must know at this point I cannot hold myself back with Cruella XD 😅 So this one is explicit... It describes pictures she has drawn of you in those outifts... and in some particular positions.

Greasy Weasel x AFAB!Fem!Reader x Wheezy Weasel- Threesome!! Cunt eating (Greasy) and dirty talk/teasing (Wheezy). Also I think reader is in some sorta space. Tiny bit of a sharp teeth kink. R e a l l y explicit.

Jim Bickerman x Fem!Reader- Established relationship, semi-public sexual shenanigans, getting caught (Semi-explicit)

Audrey II:

"Y/N... " A vine moseys over to your desk after a short amount of silence and prods the squishy area of skin at your middle, and you respond by wrapping your arm around your tummy; Not looking over at the overgrown Venus fly trap. Not paying them any of the attention they crave. "baby... doll... watcha doin'?"

"Working, Audrey, shush." You keep your voice even, which you know will drive them crazy, and continue writing.

"Shu- Me?? Oh no, darlin', I don't think so!~ " The vine that poked at your tummy fat lifts towards your desk instead, then- but you push it away before he can snatch your homework away. They gasp. "Excuse me??"

"I'm really busy right now, I'll entertain you later."

For a moment they manage to stay quiet, but you can practically feel the cogs turning in their brain. You know your study time is not going to last long. "... Hmmm... " He hums, the sound sending a little shameful tingle all the way through you; Making you squeeze your eyes closed for a moment and cross one leg over the other, before refocusing on your work. No, no. The damn plant will not distract you today. You have got to get this essay done!! "I gotta say baby... I have to disagree with you~ "

"Good thing you don't get a say- " You're cut off when 4 vines wrap around the legs of your chair and suddenly tear you around to face him; dragging you closer and closer in the chair towards the corner Audrey lives in. Theirs a big smirk on the horrible fauna's huge mouth, and you know you have to get out now. Quickly you hop off the chair and rush back to your desk, gathering up your things in your arms. "Audrey, I'm just gonna go study at the library. I'll be back later toni- "

"Oh no no sweetheart~ Not so fast~ " Oh god, the way they call you sweetheart has you freezing totally still for a moment-

-And that, was all the time Audrey needed to wrap one of their thicker vines around your middle and slowly drag your body towards them this time; Causing you to drop some things, along the way. "Oh!- My stu- "

"Don't worry about it, baby! We're doin' something else, now~ Now c'mon... I wanna see you writhe... "Fuck. "... so go ahead and let go a' those books for me. Let go, baby... " You get the feeling he must mean to let go of more then just your books when he says it like that, but you refuse to let go of anything.

"Audrey, this is important." You beg, holding your books tight against your chest even as he tugs at them from the bottom. "I- "

"Don't you want me to be nice to you??... Y/N, I can be so goddamn nice... You don't know how nice~ I can be to you, yet... But I'll show ya!~ I'll show ya the ropes~ " At that, the vine around your waist shifts upwards a little bit, pulling up your shirt with it, and another vine curls into the waistband of your bottoms. "I can be your best friend, baby!"

Eyes wide, surprised at how this night is progressing and even more horrified that you don't want it to stop- not with Audrey talking to you like this- you let them steal your books and take them away. The huge, inhuman grin on Audrey's 'face' broadens, and that same vine comes back to wrap around your hair and hold it back from your face- and take control over your head. "Ah- "

"Don't worry baby. We're gonna have some fun tonight... just you and me... "

Cruella De Vil:

You hadn't seen this book, before. Which was odd, because Cruella often used the same brand for her sketches- always the same sleek, black leather binding and impossibly crisp paper you're cutting yourself on.

This one was no different. And she dropped it on your desk just the same as she always did, with enough force to send any loose papers flying so she could roll her eyes at you and complain that your desk is a disgusting mess as always. She even told you what you were to do with it, like you hadn't done it a million times before. Like you were unaware of the drill, even at this point. Because apparently you're an idiot.

It was all quite normal.

That is, until you opened the book so you could make copies of the sketches for manufacturing to keep. Until you looked at the new sketches.

Immediately you thrust the pages hard against your chest as fast as you can, dreading anyone else seeing what you just saw and looking around to make sure that you're alone in the room. Because- porn.

It was porn. There was no other way to describe it, from the... graphic positions the women were in, to the almost lack of clothes entirely. Being Cruella's assistant, you had seen plenty of lingerie sketches before, but they were usually tasteful! These... from what you saw before you hid them, they were just...

Obnoxiously horny.

Eyes wide and nervous, you slowly pull the book away from your chest to look again, so so curious despite your embarrassment and hot cheeks, and- yep. Definitely. Still porn. Cruella De Vil had sat in her glass office today looking oh so professional, and drawn porn.

... You cant stop looking at them. They're great, actually. You can feel your pussy throb, as your thumb runs over the center of a particularly well-done sketch; One where the woman is sat down with her knees spread wide and her head tuned away, eyes closed. Her cunt's open and shaded red, the only colour Cruella has added to the sharp, black-and-white pages.

You're so unbelievably hot at these pictures, just looking at them - distracted by particular parts of them, - , that at first you don't read the labelling at all. Cruella's handwriting in this book is all in cursive, and you have to focus to read it, but when you do begin to go through the notes... you feel yourself get even hotter.

Your name is all over the pages. Y/N in fur, written on top of a woman stood terribly naked, wearing just a fur hat and fur boots. Y/N in silk, written beside the woman with her beautiful red pussy bare on the page and a very shiny silk chemise bunched up around her hips. Y/N in chiffon, written beside a woman wearing just a long chiffon skirt and arms raised away from her confidently bare chest. Y/N in satin, written beside a woman with her hands on her hips, holding a long satin robe back from hiding her body- at all.

Y/N in- Y/N in- Y/N in-

After a while, and your eyes are the size of saucers while your underwear is absolutely soiled, you plop down finally in a chair by the photo copier and turn to the last page. Theirs a sticky note on it, but you peel it off in order to see the final picture, and give a choke gasp at the image Cruella's drawn for you.

An absolutely tasteless picture of a woman - you, - bent over a familiar desk, with your feet spread wide so your ass and cunt are on full display to anyone looking. The angle is from just above, as if you're standing just behind the woman - you, - and she's preparing to take you in. God, you can feel yourself clenching at the sight- the thought- the idea-

Is this what Cruella wants? Does she want you like this? Does she want to fuck you this badly??

As if as an after thought, you look at the sticky note.

Y/N,

My Office. Later tonight after everyone leaves.

Cruella De Vil

Greasy Weasel x Reader x Wheezy Weasel:

You were already with Greasy when Wheezy walked into the room, and he knew damn well what the two of you were up to- he always knew- he just doesn't always want to do it too. He doesn't have as big a drive as the two of you do.

But evidently today is one of the days where he does want to fuck, he is in the mood. This is evident when he walks in and locks the door behind him; not taking his cool eyes, dark with lust, on you with Greasy's mouth moving on- against- around your cunt.

Wheezy's eyes flicker up to your face, raising his brows- as if asking, if theirs room for one more.

You open your mouth to tell him yes, of course, but its Greasy who responds. He didn't see the question Wheezy silently posed, but he can tell since you're not freaking out that someone has come in right now, that it has to be your other boyfriend. He pops his mouth off of you, though he doesn't take his eyes off of it at all, mesmerised by what is definitely one of his favourite things in the world, and instead just moves to rub his thumb against your clit. "Welcome in, el fumador... help yourself~ we're just beginning here... "

... Wheezy smirks, rolling his sleeves up more securely and strolling over to the bed, leaning over you as you move your head to see him. He gives you a little hello kiss when you crane your neck back because he's right beside the bed now, and strokes your hair for a moment.... Then his eyes slide right back down to Greasy and what he's doing to you, and how slick you are, and a mischievous look that makes you even hornier flickers in his eyes. "Really, Grease? Looks like you've been workin' her for- damn. Hours, now. She looks like she's ready to pop."

"I'm just that good, I guess!~ "

"Mhm... "

Needy and non-verbal, you just reach for Wheezy's shirt collar and drag him back down to you and your parted lips as Greasy connects his mouth to you once again; Slipping your tongue immediately into his mouth while your other boyfriend devours your cunt like his favourite meal. You kiss Wheezy with all the want you're feeling, meshing your mouths together slowly but licking his tongue so dirty you would feel embarrassed, if you weren't so close. He reciprocates, easily giving you what you want, taking care of his needy, desperate girl without even touching you anywhere inappropriate.

He pulls away too soon, and you let out a sad little whine, as he brushes a thumb over your lips and gives a smokey chuckle. He's still so close! Why is he doing this?- "Its okay, baby, its alright... we're gonna take care of you... "

"Please- "

"Y'feel Grease down there?? Does that feel good?" Quickly you nod, your fingers still curled around Wheezy's collar. It feels really, really good- his tongue is so deep- "Make sure y'tell him how good he's doing, cutie, he deserves some praise dontcha think??"

Eyes wide, you nod again. Greasy does deserve it. "Its so- so good- "

"Hear that Grease?? So, so good... "

Greasy moans and nods into your most private place and it has you bucking, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from making a terribly load sound- which just makes him chuckle against you, sharp teeth brushing against your delicate skin.

"Now... lay down, baby. I need a little something, too today. Its been a hard week... " Your eyes slip downwards towards Wheezy's hands as he unbuckles his belt, causing your mouth to actually water. "... and you wanna help me out, dontcha? Yeahhh, I know you do... you're a good baby... " As you nod once again, eager to please, Wheezy gives another smirk; looking down to Greasy. "Isn't she, Grease?"

In responce, Greasy shows you both as he shoves his hand down in his own pants.

Jim Bickerman x Reader:

To your credit, you did try to keep it to a goodnight kiss tonight.

... The key word being try. When you noticed him watching you in that way that reminds you he's a hunter while you were just getting comfy in your sleeping bag, you had asked him what? And when he had acted all innocent like he hadn't been practically licking his chops at you, you explained that you were not having sex in this tent tonight because a. the tent is not sound proof and b. it was inappropriate. The poor men you're camping with did not need to experience that.

And you didn't need to be looking them in the eyes the next day knowing that they are now privy the sound you make when the creepy old man hits that particular spot deep inside you, to be frank.

You even said goodnight, and held the sleeping bag over your head.

But fuckkkkkkkkk you cant help yourself. You're almost as bad as Jim is- actually, scratch that almost. You are as bad. That's why he's so perfect.

All of 2 minutes later, you were giving a groan at your own lack of self control (You've really got to work on that), crawling out of your sleeping bag (Pulling the flannel Jim leant you, or you stole from him, tight around you to shield you from the cold), and finding yourself straddling him. From below he gives a smirk, about to say something like I told you so, or I thought so, or ha ha- but you just silently shake your head at him and lean down to kiss him. Like no- nope. No gloating. If you gloat sir, you die.

For a while its just kissing, his beard rubbing against your face and the brim of his hat grinding into your forehead until you take it off him- chucking to an unknown corner of the tent. This makes him chuckle, as you release his mouth to breath and give him a bemused grin, nose scrunched up slightly at him, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and then his clothed shoulder.

He curls his fingers into the loops in your jeans - you hadn't bothered to get changed to go to sleep, it was way too cold, - and tugged your hips against his. "Mmm... I can feel you all hot and throbbing, sweetheart... somethin' you wanna tell me? Maybe you don't think this is so inappropriate??... " When you lift yourself up to give him a deadpanned look, his eyes light up very purposefully and he makes 'oh' sound. "Orr, maybe you like that... "

You just hold up a finger, like quiet, before kissing him again. This time he doesn't let that be it, disconnecting his mouth from yours way too soon in favour of leaning up a little whispering in your ear. "Your mess in your pants is distractin' me. I'm gonna need you to take them off... "

"Hm~" You hum, leaving him and standing up the best you can in the small tent to wriggle out of your jeans, kicking them off into the same corner his hat went so you're left in your shirt and Jim's blue flannel. Jim eagerly undoes his own pants then, too, so when you lower yourself back onto him you can easily access the poor man's painfully hard cock, sitting hot and impatient underneath you, behind cotton boxers. Wow, you think vaguely. He can sure hold himself together well- you didn't think he needed you this badly!! You might have taken mercy on him sooner if you'd known... Well- "... Do you have- "

Before you can even finish the sentence, he's offering you a condom from who-knows-where. It makes you snort as you accept it. "What a gentleman... "

"I do try, pumpkin."

"Okay," You grin, shaking your head and trying to go back to that quiet, purposeful mood from before despite Jim making you smile. "Okay- we doing this?" You're still giggling a little, the heat of the moment and the middle-of-the-night sillies getting to you now. "G'head then, whip it out- "

Suddenly you're cut off- and its not by Jim, or your own giggling. Its by someone outside the tent- "PLEASE, don't!!" They yell suddenly, followed by a couple of others voicing their agreement with grunts and pleases and one particularly pained jesus christ jim, let us sleep!! He sounded like he was in the tent right next door.

"... Oh god- " You start, face heated up like a stove as you pull part of the flannel up to cover your face some, half laughing still from the night-time hysteria and this ridiculous situation, and looking down to connect eyes with Jim.

He looks like he's about to lose his composure, too, and then someone's shoe gets thrown at the side of your tent and you both burst out laughing.

(Annnnnd thank goodness this is finally done- I can go read your Scroop Headcanons now XD)

[autisticempathydaemon]

hello everynyan :3 /ref

4 the redacted match-ups ! not sure if you're still doing these or not bc i'll be damned i'd give up after the first 3 🙌🙌🙌 power 2 ya ! (if you ARE, in fact, not doing these anymore pls ignore this. this never happened. kay.)

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

this was the hardest question bc i LOVEEMUSIC so bad i can never really pick ONE fav bc it changes every 2 seconds but !!! gun to my head as of rn i'd say -- "but not kiss" - faye webster

'i want to see you in my dreams,

but then forget.

we're meant to be,

but not yet.

you're all that i have,

but can't get.'

i chose this song primarily because of the aesthetics & instrumental,, + the feels - i love how the piano carries and portrays every feeling (dread? maybe?) alongside the vocalist ugh sick to my stomach /pos

as for the verses i've chosen i just. really like the way she sings them HA i guess depending on my current mood i might relate to the lyrics for .5 seconds due to a past relationship of mine that had me fuckedd anyway.

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

i WISH i could enjoy these as much as others but i have the attention spam of a fucking goldfish i need to be stimulated 24/7. i cannot stare at the same face and occasional photo/clip for over 10 mins.

i might watch more of em if they had like a satisfying slime video in the corner or smth. i find i only watch ones that have a topic/interest of mine that i am actively curious about/into????if that makes sense??

for instance, the only one that comes to mind rn is "in defense of chat noir" by toon ruins UGH ITS SO GOOD i used to be a huge fan of miraculous so that defffinitely takes part in why i rewatch it every few months.

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

on my stomach. arms under pillows. one leg up. yo i bought these headphones made specifically for sleeping while listening to relaxing noises or smth & i kid you not i use them shits to listen to asmr/rp audios. sometimes it puts me to sleep other times i'm up all night tryna figure out what position the listener and 'character' are in. anyway!!!

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

first thing that comes 2 mindd for whatever reason is 'may' ?? possibly bc i really like my birth name already and 'may' is somewhat close to it already? also because i'd love writing it over and over in my handwriting . probably just an excuse to write the letter 'y' actually.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

fav character changes ALLL THE TIMEE for no reason my fav is all of them rlly i just wanna love and be loved BUT when i reaaaally think about it ?? hudson. even though he's like. an easter egg. i cant have anything. wanna "D D D D DDDJJJ ANXIETY" into his pants. what. who said that. just got hacked wtff

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

a know a LOTT of ppl love david but i am sorry i just cannot. angel better than me idk how they do it. srry. my momma raised a bitch. i've never ever gotten to finishing any of his videos so maybe im the problem but from the get-go THIS BITCH IS SCARY BRO he's so damn intimidating . the fact that his voice is rlly deep doesn't help either :C ..& don't even get me started on early david.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

this is such a good question rlly makin me think . hmm . OK I FEEL LIKE A BASIC BlTCH BC PPL HAVE BEEN SAYIN THIS ALREADY BUT . hux. we like this 🤞 . as for why?? i feel like i need and would . honestly really appreciate more,, warmth and positivity in my life - and i def get that sorta 'aura' from him. & i know damn well he'd give the best hugs. and we could go to the gym together. it'd be so fun. so precious.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

ok first of all #relationshipgoals that is so sweet awe :((

i wouldn't say i really 'ramble' per say -- i just talk. to myself. like a normal person. mhm. i struggle with sleep in general, so i'm usually up till like 5am. typically endlessly scrolling through my phone, or talking to the abyss about something personal that's been on my mind for a while. if it's really bad, i cry in my voice memos. if i just need to - refresh? get smth off my mind so i can sleep? i write songs.

...and then i record them on my $15 wireless headphones. onto that very same voice memos app.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

if im being honest,, depends on my mood . but god could i fuck up some strawberry milk and mini oreos right about now. . mind you i've had strawberry milk like once but it changed my life u dont understand

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

i mean i don't listen to it 24/7 but man i outdid myself w this one. it's called "insanity" and every single song matches the vibe of . just straight up 'otherworldly' ?? if u catching what im throwin?? all songs r pretty 'out-there' - in terms of the vibes - at least i like to think so. for reference it has songs like "goth - sidewalks and skeletons" and "eternal youth - růde" . IDK i guess it makes me happy when songs from a playlist actually match up with one other

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

i listen to this japanese-kawaii-metal-based group called BABYMETAL and i loveee them soso much. a few "metal enthusiasts" go out and call their work 'not real metal' , which is why i guess you can technically call their music a pleasure media -- as well as the fact that whenever i put on one of their songs mfs r like ... what is this - cause its three young japanese girls talking abt bubblegum with the the most insane guitar riff in the back. their newer stuff is incredible. womanhood at it's finest. give them a shot plspls /nf

ALL DONE !! ty 4 reading & have a lovely day/night, wherever you may be <3

Oh, this one is perfect and required, like, no thought. Vibes-wise? Given your energy? It’s just gotta be Guy.

Building on that, I love that you write songs and he writes screenplays(?). I think it’s so cute to pair writers together so that you might inspire one another and be each other's biggest fans. I also like Guy for you because he strikes me as one of those people who calls themselves “polyjamorous”, listening to basically anything and everything. He loves all your songs and all your playlists, vibing along to all of it even if there’s no words or words in another language. He doesn’t care: he’s with you, so he’s having a good time.

I would predict a fun, artistic life for the two of you like parallel-playing co-writing sessions with the two of you having individual headphones on, making funny faces at one another when you catch the other staring. You take turns showing each what you’ve created and hyping each other up, offering critique. When the writer's clock keeps y’all up till 3 AM, he’s got leftover pizza and any snacks you could possibly want. (He strikes me as the sort of guy who always has junk food caches.)

Song:

It was just two lovers/ Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde/ Fallin' for each other/ Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish/ No Donald Glover/ Missed call from my mother/ Like, "Where you at tonight?" Got no alibi/ I was all alone with the love of my life

Given your passion for music, I tried to pick a love song for y’all that was emotionally evocative to the mind and the ear. I chose this one because I thought the piano instrumental and how it evokes that mental imagery of sitting with someone during the golden hour might resonate with you. I also like it for y’all because this song got really popular on tiktok, and Guy would probably know it from there.

Runner-ups:

Obviously, we have to have Hudson as a runner-up. As a DJ, he’d be so loving and so supportive of your craft, hyping you up on air all the time and playing your work whenever he can. He’d also make you really bomb-ass playlists. A less obvious runner-up would be Anton, but I really like this one. You’d be more of an opposites attract sort of pair, but I think it’d be cute, and listening to music would remind Anton of you while he’s away~

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[clairedaring]

WEEEEEE ANOTHER LETTER FROM ME!

Don't worry it's not a long inbox essay ahahahha!

I've been trying to watch the horror stuff you recommended (been in a mood), but I couldn't find them on my usual pirate sites. I was wondering:

where do you usually watch your lakhorn and movies, if it's not on Netflix?

Also: I'm still trying to find the damn time to write those สาธุ rambles. It's just that I also have some goddamn manga ramble clogging up my neural network... and other pretty important not-my-day-job-kinda-work. My break is gonna end soon and I still haven't fucking done half the things I wanna do!

P.S. Luckily, I have Terror Tuesday for now, bwahahaahaha!

Hi Lyn! (❁´◡`❁)

For older Thai horror films, I have very fortunately been able to find them with Vietnamese subtitles on a plethora of different pirate sites (I guess the Vietnamese audience really enjoys Thai horror, they have subtitled basically every Thai horror film in existence).

But here are some grey-watching links to the horror stuff I've recommended, other than the ones available on Netflix (Girl From Nowhere, Terror Tuesday...). For grey watching sites, I'd say the best chances to find Thai series/films are KissKH, Dramacool, occasional Dailymotion, Bilibili.

After Dark (this one is officially available on WeTV)

Angkhan Khlumpong The Series

Hoon Payon

Sick Nurses (raw, no engsub)

Malila: The Farewell Flower

But other than the horror stuff I've recommended, for Thai lakorns in general, they're often available on platforms like Netflix, iQIYI, WeTV, Gagaoolala with subs provided so I would say these are the main "official platforms" I watch them on. The pirate site I use most often is KissKH.

Honestly it's sad that most older lakorns/Thai films are often not subtitled since there's such a niche audience for them so I'm always grateful to fansubbers in this day and age.

Very much looking forward to your สาธุ rambles once you've got time to write them. I hope you're able to watch stuff you've planned on before your break ends \(￣︶￣*\))

[ayjadasblogforeverything]

Fic Writer Q&A

Can you imagine that *I* got tagged at a *fic writer* q&a? Yeah, me neither! Thank you, @sirenofthegreenbanks!

Perhaps I should precede this with saying that I barely write, I have published 5 works or so. And when I write, it is very short, perhaps because I am a mathematician, perhaps because I talk so much on a daily basis. My longest work is <1k and three of the five works are drabbles (like, the old school 100-word pieces). Also, I can ironically already feel that this is going to be an essay. You were warned :)

How many WIPs do you currently have?

I usually don't have WIPs, or if I have a WIP, I usually only have it for a few days, as my pieces are very short. I have fragments that I wrote for myself that I do not intend to publish. There will not be progress there, so they are not WIPs. But currently I actually have not only one, but two fragments that I would consider WIPs! That's infinitely more than on average!

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish?

Most of my fics so far are based on more or less stupid jokes and are in general light-hearted, funny or cracky. I think in general, I find it hardest to write earnest stuff to a satisfactory level. Perhaps that is because that might be inspired by me projecting, which leads to things being too out of character. Perhaps I just find it hard in general to hit peoples' voices, which might have a greater impact in serious topics. Perhaps it's also that writing always feels like a striptease of my soul and I deal badly with the perceived vulnerability that it brings, which is worse when it is about more serious topics. So out of the two WIPs I have, I expect the one that deals with some insecurities to be the one that is harder to finish or to finish to my satisfaction, even though it is the shorter one.

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

Öhm. If it is about how I find inspiration, I don't know. It either comes or it doesn't, and I am very chill about that because I am very much not ambitious with my writing. Once I have a situation in my mind, I aim to note the gist of it down on my phone, but I am a master procrastinator but also forgetful, so that will take some time.

Then if I feel like I want to get creative and challenge myself at some point, I look up my list of ideas and pick one that feels doable at the time. (Rarely, I sit down immediately to write up a first version, but it needs to be a special idea for that to happen.)

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

No. With the length of my fics, it would take way longer to curate a playlist than I would have time to listen to it.^^ I tend to not have any music on when I am writing or only music without lyrics. I think I wrote the last few drabbles late in the night when I procrastinated going to bed or something and some invisible force possessed me to open my document with my drabbles and I just started writing and stopped when I had a decent not-quite drabble. I was just in this pretty weird, awesome mood you sometimes get into when it is in the middle of the night and you don't know what the time is even if you check the clock and you feel like you are the only alive thing in this world and it is just somewhat... tranquil? I tend to not be in the mood for music in this state of mind.

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

With the length of my fics, there's no other choice but balls to the wall XD. I think this is also a big reason why I prefer extremely short formats - you don't have to plan. Sometimes, I picture the entire situation in my head and collect a few phrases I could use beforehand so that most of it is already in my head, in case that counts as being organized.

I used to have a list in my mind of situations that I wanted to collect in a longer fic, but I think by now, I forgot it all. Damn. Why did I not write it down? But then, the fic would never get written because I am still not creative enough for a some overarching plot to my collection of situations.

Overall, I feel like I am not enough of a writer to answer these questions, actually, but for that, I wrote a lot I guess XD

Of course, I am curious about @deneb-al-giedi's answers. And about everyone else's that wants to talk about their fic writing process.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Oversharing on the Internet

Thank you for the tag @liminalmemories21 @welcometololaland @theghostofashton @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo and @bonheur-cafe ❤️

Let's prefix this with another giant grumpy baby in a gurney picture 🥰

ONE: Are you named after anyone? If you believe my mum, no. But I think it’s Karl Marx. He named all of his daughters Jenny. In the 80s/early 90s, mums in their droves rushed to name their newborn daughters Jennifer. Therefore, I have deduced I am named for the clandestine Marxist revolution going on between second-wave boomer mums. My mum denies this. She gave me an incredulous look when I asked, which seemed over the top, and claimed to have "just liked the name..." I think the first rule of the 80s Marxist Mums Revolution was to not talk about it.

TWO: When was the last time you cried? I’m not much of a crier usually, but I cried last week when I signed my boss’ leaving card and read all the other messages people had written for her. She’s someone who has had a massive, positive impact on my life and I’m so sad that she’s going.

THREE: Do you have kids? No, and I never will. Sometimes this makes me sad, but most of the time it doesn’t.

FOUR: Do you use sarcasm a lot? I save it for best.

FIVE: What sports have you played/do you play? I don’t understand this question.

SIX: What’s the first thing you notice about people? What they’re wearing. I was once on a plane sitting close to a woman who wore the most fantastic, long, colourful coat. I was so fixated on the coat that I didn’t realise the woman was Thandie Newton until we were at Heathrow.  

SEVEN: What’s your eye colour? An indeterminable grey-green-blue shade that changes depending on the light, what I’m wearing, and my mood.

EIGHT: Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings.

NINE: Any special talents? I’m not good at anything other than creative writing. I truly am The Worst at all else. I understand it’s objective and people might disagree that I’m good at writing at all – but I mean, relative to everything else I do, it’s really all I’ve got.

TEN: Where were you born? Saaaaf London.

ELEVEN: What are your hobbies? Writing, reading, going for walks. I love movies and reading about the movies I've watched or watching video essays about them. I also really love going shopping tbh, but I don’t do it much for financial and moral reasons.

TWELVE: Do you have any pets? Alas, I am petless.

THIRTEEN: How tall are you? 5ft 7 with disproportionately long arms, to paint a picture.

FOURTEEN: Favourite subject in school? Drama and art. I’m lousy at art and got a D for A-level, but was given a special award from my school for the sheer amount of effort I put in. Hahaha god.

FIFTEEN: Dream job? Poet in the poetry world doing poetry things, I guess working at a university and winning the TS Eliot for my debut collection, sigh. I didn't have enough coin to stay in academia doing something so damn arty, but once upon a moonlit dream I had notions of going to the States to do an MFA. Anyway. Still sort of trying with the odds against me. Two publications last month and one upcoming though, yay! 

I'm a bit late to this so if you've been tagged already please ignore or no pressure if you don't want to do this at all!!!: @heartstringsduet @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @irispurpurea @actuallysara @goodways @danieljradcliffe @lutavero @howlingsaturn @ladytessa74 (I meant to add you but just saw I didn't?!!!)

[skeysesil]

To everyone who showed interest in a review for Dracula - Curse of Darkness by Cosmin Baiu, thank you for your curiosity, but I am also asking you to give me a little bit of time until I am done with work, cuz summer is almost here and the school year is almost over as well.

All I want is to be done with everything officially, watch my pupils graduate, say my goodbye, and have nothing else to worry about to fill my time with, so I can have the patience to sit down and write the damn thing. Gotta admit, it's been a while since I wrote a whole essay on something, hope I still got it, cuz I used to write movie analyses and book reviews like it was no one's business, so pray for me and my brain to not get easily distracted, or to have a sudden change of mood.

@vladvodashitposts

@officialromaniantranslatiuni

@iamthetruenhaz

and if I missed someone...blame it on tumblr not on me cuz for some reason this mofo refuses to show me all the users that reblogged the original post

Hai Doamne ajută!

[the-official-account]

episode 24 B)

Okay so last episode was intense and I'm raring to find out what happens next, but I'm EXTRA excited because I've been curious what this episodes title is about since literally my very first listen. another so-while-drawing so if commentary is slightly unhinged/sparse you know why

"EXCEPT WAIT DIAMONDS IN THE ROOM" mood bestie fuck

and ajsrlfhadsjhfaskf Vellum gets THREE drinks. Circular snacks....

ALJJAFSDGL;AJSFD "is it a nice shot of his booty?" the good side is the backside ;)

"but she does touch her beak to your forhead" awhhhhhhh!!! Penumbra podcast has made me permanently associate bird-woman kisses with the most heart wrenching gestures of affection one has ever encountered

HE GOES TO DRAW HIS SWORDS AND THEN ITS NOT THERE SO HE DRAWS HIS GUN

Diamond does not deserve any fucking donuts, everyone gets donuts BUT diamond. and yeah!! grey IS in town!!!

"no i successfully--" shut uuuuuup asdfjhasdlfasdf

THEY DID NOT JUST CALL BRUNHILDE-- MY FUCKING BRUNHILDE, MY FAVORITE AUNT, LIGHTS OF MY LIFE, PRIMODONNA BLORBOESS, A FUCKING REBOUND???? A REBOUND???? BITCH THEY ARE MARRIED.

"he brought back oolong" noooo!!!!

"I have never hated a person so much, i wanted to do violence just now :D!" ANYAAAA LMAOOOO

"spar looks relieved" awhhhhhh they're so precious!!! I'm gonna crush them in a vice

;asdfasldfasdf spar and jakub's eyebrow conversation is soooo good. god i adore them sm

LASJHFA;LSDFJASDF GOD I FORGOT HE CAN CLIMB WALLS. AND HE JUST DOES THIS IN FRONT OF JAKUB LMAOOO

"they're a flystander because it's high up"

I need to write a fic where, like, Ipswitch is visiting Vassa Natura and Jakub has him step inside briefly while he goes to grab his coat or something and then is like "wait lemme show him the closet he'll probably like that" and is confused as to why Ipswitch is treating this like he just handed him a copy of his key

These consecutive jokers are hilarious. Safety checks matter, Essay!!! XDDD

AWHHHHH THE NOSE BUMP KISS

HE LEARNED EMBROIDERY. AWH.

ILA KNOWS TAEKWONDO? VERY COOL

RAISED BY A TRIBE OF ELVEN ACCOUNTANTS THAT INVENTED ZERO IM DEEEEEEAAAAD.

I'm SO excited for the quiet year series

I'm having so much fun :) I missed Grey

I think it's high time to upgrade diamond from "person of interest" to "suspect"

greggginnnnns <3<3

og course vellum and grey start tinkering kdlsjf;asdfjasdf they're so family. GREY HUH!!! :0 YAYYYYY

Grey and Diamond better not fucking be an item rn.

I need vellum and spar to hug so bad rn.

"wait...jack's missing?" asjdhf;ladsjkfa;sdjlk

i need them to hug SO SO BAD.

The forearm squeeze. WAH

spar was vulnerable for 2.5 seconds and then pulled back like he was burned al;dsjfa;lkdjf

"why were you scared?" "Spar looks at vellum like he's stupid" AWHHHHHH AWHHH THE QUICK LITTLE KISS IM. THATS SO CUUUTEEEE. your honor they love eachother!!!!

i NEED max and vellum to be friends so bad. I need them to have that friends-to-siblings arc i NEED this

OH. DAMN.

"Hey uh. Max. I've been wanting to meet you--" "Sorry my mom killed your parents and then herself." "......uh. Yeah" LJSHDALG;AHSDGF LIKE IMAGINE THAT CONVERSATION-- FUCK.

I was kinda close about the werekid situation though!!! Max sure is a kid of a were!

Vellum and grey's relationship is something that can be SO precious in my heart <3

Vellum is gonna be such a good big brother he's gonna be SUCH a good brother he's gonna be SOOOOOOO THEY"RE A FUCKING FAMILY YOUR HONOR!!!!! YOUR HONOR!!!!!!!

"First i need to confess something" i am instantly so suspicious again. "none of this is gonna matter soon" THATS NOT A REASSURING THING

THE SPIKE WAS FAKED????

"What I want to do with the radiotower is unethical" I at least respect the self awareness

OHHHHHH SHIT PROVIDENCE IS THE DECK!!! THAT'S WHY NOTHING HAPPENED IN CINDERSHORE, I WAS SO CONVINCED THAT WAS SOME KINDA CHAOS GOD

sometimes I forget that vellum got a little misery after drawing that card and I just keep laughing.

"some thing that providence is a god" HAHAHA BITCH IM BACK IN THE GAME

"how can we even control it to accomplish your goal?" You gotta sacrifice something messy and big, i think......If bridge is to be believed.

"The cards don't get destroyed after?" AJSHDFAL;DSFHASDKFH THE ONE YOUR BURNED YEAH-- THAT BITCH REFUUUSED TO DIE

Spar is absolutely not gonna be on board with the providence thingg. However finding a way to contain it would be ideal. Though if providences IS a god that might not be possible at all.

"NOW I WANNA GO MEET YOUR BOYFRIEND" MY JAW DROOOOOOOOPPED. LMAOOOOOOOOO

L;KASFDGFAL;SDFASDF NOT ME THINKING THERE WERE AD AT THE END.

Okay.....episode 25 is the last ep up and I'm gonna be kinda busy tomorrow so I think I might just....just go for it! Why not! I'm not scared at all hahahahhaha!!! having the bonus content to cushion my fall will be nice too. but god i just need to know what grey says to spar askjfl;asdjfa;sdf

@threeheartscast