#everything is easier when i have them in mind

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 2

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Contary to popular belief, (which was pretty much that the shadows had no mind of their own, which they had, thank you very much) the shadows did do other thing than to only listen to Master’s orders. 

Of course they listened to Master’s orders. 

But they also did…things that Master didn’t know about…and would never need to find out about…

One example in fact was the amount of gold the shadows had squirreled away throughout the centuries. Not for them, but for Master. So that Mater would never need to worry about that again. So that Master would never need to sleep in a dungeon again, like he had as a child. So Master could always have new weapons and could keep himself safe, so that he would have everything he needed.

Gold wasn’t the only thing they had squirrelled away…they had other things stashed away too! Anyhting that made the appearance of being useful one day! Shiny little things, because the shadows liked that…Sadly Master never made the appearance that he would appreciate the diamond necklaces they had hidden away in a little cave, but maybe one day…

Maybe one day Master would take a wife and she would like them.

The shadows had it all figured out. Whoever she turned out to be, they would make sure that she liked them too. They would make themselves useful so that she would like them.

Even when it had never seemed to work before… The shadows had made themselves scarce around The Morrigan and The Seer because they knew that Master liked them. And if Master liked them…well, then the shadows would make sure that Master got what he wanted.

Master wanted so few things after all…

They even found The Morrigan her favourite red lipstick that hadn’t been made in centuries. Not because they liked The Morrigan, but because Master did.

And in return, she treated Master like that.

And The Seer…oh, somehow that was even worse.

Though The Seer wasn’t the only one the Shadows didn’t like because of that. The High Lord was the other one. And him… oh, the shadows would get their revenge. 

Master was theirs. Nobody talked to Master like that.

(They just needed to wait for the perfect moment…and the High Lord would regret ever treating their Master like that…)

Master had nearly gotten himself killed just because he had wanted to make The Seer happy…and nobody even seemed to care about that. Not really. 

And then Master was working himself to the bone, clearly wanting to forget what happened between him and The Seer…and the Shadows just wanted to fix things, but there was nothing to fix anymore. 

At least now…At least now, finally, Master was listening to somebody with his best interests at first.

The Shadows would find Master a wife. The best wife they possibly could. And a home too.

And so, with their new mission in mind, the shadows set off to find the perfect home and the perfect female for their master.

The home was the easier part.

Mostly because they already owned it for a few decades. 

It was a picturesque Lake House at one of the mountain seas in Velaris, not far off from the House of Wind. It was beautiful and just a few minutes by foot away from the city center but still private and quiet…and the view was spectacular. 

The home itself was warm and cozy, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight. Master would love it.

It just needed a little…attention. Some furniture…They would need to put the stuff they had filled it with somewhere else but that shouldn’t be a problem, right? 

Master would love it. Now they just needed the right female to share it with for Master…

The shadows were going to find Master a wife… They just needed…They just needed to figure out some criteria at first.

Master had said he didn’t care about how she looked…so that didn’t help them to narrow down the pool of possible candidates.

Nobody with a known mate. Nobody in a romantic relationship… regardless of how loose that was. The Shadows were not going to get Master’s heart broken again, thank you very much… Then all the females that preferred females themselves.

That did narrow it down… at least a little bit.

Then the more…obscure character traits. 

Nobody that was a workaholic like Master. That was never going to work.

Nobody that needed endless other people around them to be happy…Master would just get overwhelmed and shut down…

Nobody that didn’t seem like they were ready for a long term relationship either…once again, they didn’t want to break Master’s heart again…

The shadows had met really bad people. Criminals and murderers…they had seen the worst the world had to offer …but they were surprised by how many females they threw out too that pool simply because of how they behaved towards other people.

Once they had thought that maybe…maybe one female was an option. Dark blonde hair, green eyes…she had a steady job and she liked going out dancing….by the time she made fun of the limp of a soldier, the shadows wondered if every single person they came across was an asshole. They also wondered if there was anyone out there who truly deserved Master. 

But the Shadows refused to give up. They would find the right female for Master, no matter how long it took. They had already acquired a beautiful home for him, and now they were determined to find the perfect mate to share it with...

They could easily suss out anybody they wanted to meet…they could figure out which females were available…The problem was only that…they did find some kind of problem with every female they came across.

The blonde one that made fun of the limp was just one in a very long row of them. There was another one that they thought could have worked…but she got into earhsattering, screaming arguments with seemingly everybody she came across. Master liked his quietness, that wasn’t going to work either…

Another few that didn’t want a serious relationship even when they said they did, which was completely fine but made them useless for the shadows purposes… The Shadows were halfway ready to give up in Velaris and start trying again in another city of the Night Court, when they came across her in a dark back alley.

Across her and probably the dirtiest and ugliest feral cat that the shadows had ever seen.The ugliest cat they had ever seen that she was clearly trying to entice to come home with her.

“H-hey, swe...sweetie,” she whispered, her voice stuttering. She was crouched down o the floor. “Wa—Want to go somewhere war—warmer?”

The cat meowed pitifully and the shadows watched as she wrapped the cat up in the scarf she had worn, not for one moment caring that the cat was goign to ruin it. 

The shadows couldn’t help but keep watching, their curiosity piqued. She was clearly not concerned about the dirt or the torn scarf, and she was attempting to bond with this mangy feral cat. This showed a level of compassion and patience that they hadn’t often come across in their search. 

She seemed determined to help the cat, and the shadows couldn't help but admire her tenacity. 

The cat looked horribly, with matted, dirty fur, two eyes that stared in two different direction and an overbite. Somehow it reminded the Shadows of Master. 

Not with the way it looked…more in the way it pitfully stayed quiet and didn’t attack the female, even as she picked it up, wrapped in her scarf and then took it home. 

She smiled at the mangly back alley cat with so much adoration that the shadows wondered where it was even coming from. Her face was alight with joy as the cat rubbed her head against her fingertips.

The shadows followed along as she brought the cat to her apartment.

It was tiny. Tiny and absolutely stuffed full with books. So many books. Like somebody had tried to stuff the whole library of the Hose of Wind in this little apartment overlooking the harbour.

She had so many bookcases lining the walls, books in little stacks on her dining table and coffee table…or simply stacked on the floor. It was cozy and cluttered and utterly charming. Her passion for literature spilled out of every corner of her home. 

The Shadows couldn’t help but wonder what kin of person would choose to filll their living space with so many books. 

Apparently a person that had no problem with spending the better part of an hour bathing the cat in her kitchen sink. 

Weren't cats supposed to not to like water?

This one didn't seem to care. This one sat calmly in her sink and attemptsed to bite the stream of water flowing from the faucet...which meant it snuffled and sneezed for the big majority of the bath. She soaped him up twice, muttering a constant stream of reassurances that the cat doesn't seem to actually need, given the cat’s complete lack of distress at being repeatedly soaked.

And still she talked to it, constantly, the stutter omnipresent. She showed a remarkable amount of patience and care as she cleaned and combed the feral cat, gently and painstakingly combing out every single matted strand of hair and making sure the cat was clean and comfortable.

The shadows couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. She seemed completely focused on making sure the cat was happy and healthy, and she didn't even seem to mind that she was making a mess of her kitchen in the process. 

​​She scooped said up in a fluffy towel, rubbing it up and the cat purred, looking at her with two eyes that stared in two different directions. It was still the ugliest cat the shadows had ever seen, but she seemed to utterly adore it.

"You need - need a name," she told the cat seriously. She seemed to take this decision very seriously, as if the cat's name was a reflection of his identity. The cat in question was clearly enjoying the attention, purring contentedly as it was rubbed with a fluffy towel. "I thi-ink you are a boy. How about...Hector," she said finally, as if she had carefully considered many options before settling on this one. "I think it suits you.”

"How about some tu...tuna, Hector?" she asked him seriously. "I'll even give...give you the good crystal."

She couldn’t be serious, could she?

Apparently, she was. She fed the mangy back alley cat from a fancy little crystal dish that she put a tin of tuna into with a flourish, putting out another dish with water right next to it. 

She slipped off the apron she had put on, printed with ditsy little florals and sat down next to the cat. Hector happily scarfed down everything she was offering and then came to curl himself up on her lap. “I have a bad track record with males,” she told the cat seriously. “They end up cheating on me with my sister.”

The statement caught the shadows off guard. What? 

Despite that admission she she continued to gently stroke the cat in her lap, clearly finding some comfort in his company. "I'll feed you all the tuna I can find, if you keep me company," she told the cat softly. "I could really use some company."

That wasn’t…that wasn’t what the shadows had expected. Bu the Hector purre, the sound rough and growly and she giggled, sounding sweet and incandescently happy. 

She wanted companionship. That was clear. And she was also used to beng the second choice, when the males she had been with, had cheated on her with her sister. 

They were intrigued. 

They kept watching, hiding between her books, that seemed to span every which genre as she got ready for bed. 

She took a bath, and they watched as she let down her hair from the thick braided bun it had been kept it, ripples of chocolate brown tresses falling down her back…she was pretty too. 

Pretty with dark hair and blue eyes, with lush curves that were swathed into a pair of blue silk pyjamas.

She opened a chest at the end of her wrought iron bed, going through it for a moment and then pulling out a fluffy blanket, into which she wrapped Hector in. 

“Here, you..you can have that one,” she said softly, placing the cat at the end of her bed. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And so she went to sleep, curled up between floral sheets, and the cat purring at her feed and the shadows watched. 

They stayed.  

While she slept, they explored her house, searching for everything that they could learn about her. Searched for a name and her job or her hobbies and…

The answer was found in the desk that was tucked beneath her window in the living room. 

Dozens of pages filled with loopy handwriting were covering it. Drafts of her newest novel. A romance novel. 

Just a few moments later they found a stack of letters…and then were very confused for a little while, because there were letters addressed to two different females. Skylar Alden…and one Sellyn Drake. 

It took them a moment until they realised that both names contained the same letters.

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake.

Sellyn Drake, the bestselling romance author. Sellyn Drake, who Lady Death loved to read. Sellyn Drake, whose identity was a secret...

Skylar Alden was Sellyn Drake. 

Skylar Alden, who seemed to prefer to be called Sky, signing everything with just these three letter…and who doted on Hector, the ugly cat..She was also Sellyn Drake, Bestselling Romance Novel Author extraordinaire. 

And she seemed very much content with keeping that a secret. 

But why? 

Why did she chose to hide her identity? Was she afraid of the fame that came with success? Or did she prefer to remain anonymous and blend in with the everyday world? 

The Shadows were intrigued. 

Was this the only secret Sky was hiding? 

The Shadows kept an eye her over the following days. 

They waited for her to do something that would put her out of the running as Master’s wife. Waited for her to have some kind of flaw that they couldn't deal with...but there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

They closely monitored her every move, and half the time she didn’t even leave her apartment, preferring to stay curled up inside, write her books, and cuddle with Hector, the cat.

For cauldron’s sake…she even knitted the ugly cat a sweater so he wouldn’t get cold because his belly didn’t have any fur after she had removed all these mats!

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that they could find in her life that could even be construed as unkind. 

Sky had a bank account that was full thanks to the books she wrote…and all she paid for with it, was her rent, her food, her regular mail orders of more books…She even donated to one of the orphanages in Velaris, for crying outloud! 

Sometimes she went down to the fishmonger and bought ridiculously expensive tuna for Hector, who she spoiled rotten. 

Though that one trip to the harbour…where the shadows hid in her handbag…well, that one trip explained why she seemed more than content to stay in the privacy of her own home for most of the time. 

Her stutter got exponentially worse when she tried to talk to another person, when it wasn’t just herself and the cat that she liked reading her books aloud to... 

Especially when the person she tried to talk to was an impatient fishmonger that rolled his eyes at her stutter. The Shadows as Sky’s cheeks turned a ruddy red, embarrassment clouding around her thickly. 

The shadows silently bristled. 

She acquired her tuna, paid silently and then kept her head down as she headed back home, cheeks still read, while blue, blue eyes filled with tears. 

And that…that was just pissing the shadows off. 

She hadn’t even been doing anything! She had just stuttered while asking for fish!

It wasn’t like she was doing this on purpose!

One tendril from the Shadows darted out of her bag, waiting until Sky was far enough away that that idiotic fishmonger wouldn’t think she had anything to do with it…

And then they only needed to loose that pesky little screw that kept one of the legs of his table attached…Screw you, Fishmonger. Let that be a lesson to be nicer to other people 

Another customer accidentally jostled said table just seconds later and the shadows snickered to themselves as the fish went flying. 

The tendril silently returned to Sky’s handbag, as she made her way back home. 

Hector got some of the Tuna cut up into small pieces on the good crystal bowl…and Sky gently scratched him behind his ears the whole time. 

The Shadows silently wondered if Master would enjoy being scratched behind his ears, as well. 

“I’ll ha--have dinner with my family to…tonight. You’ll stay here, al-alright? I’ll be back soon,” she promised the cat. 

Hector just purred at her, nuzzling against her hand before the cat began to dig into the tuna as though he would never be fed again.

Her family. Well, the Shadows would totally come along for that…who knew, maybe her family was just as lovely as she was!

They were not in fact as lovely, as she was.

It started with the very first words of her mother who opened the door, Sky juggling her purse and a paper covered tray from a bakery: “Did you bring dessert? It’s not like you should eat any of that.”

Sky paused at her mother's words, the small smile that had graced her face vanishing like water in the sand.

And then it returned, but the difference between her true smile and her fake smile were so... stark.

"Hi-i. I brou… I brought cake," she said, holding out the tray towards her. "Where do you….Whe-ere do…where do-o you want me to…to put it?"

Her voice was shaking. And she was stuttering…stuttering even worse than she had done with that fishmonger.

“Talk properly, Skylar,” her mother admonished her harshly. “Put it in the kitchen.”

Sky gave a small nod, but her eyes were downcast as the Shadows followed her into the house. 

The Shadows were...not impressed with Sky's mother. It was clear that her stutter wasn’t something that she could help, but instead was something that came out stronger when she was nervous or anxious or around other people. 

Sky set the cake on the counter and glanced towards the dining room. The table was already set, surrounded by other people, that the shadows took in, while hiding in the curtains of the living room: 

Sky’s mother was taller than her, blonde and grey eyed. The shadows also got their first glimpse at what probably was her sister. Looking just like her mother, tall and slender…accompanied by a red haired male. And then there was another blonde male, probably a brother…and an older male, who must be her father. At least he shared her dark hair.

“Ah there you are Skylar,” the blonde female greeted her, her voice sickly sweet.

"Hi Claire. Hi-i…ever…everyone," she murmured looking as though she would rather be anywhere but here.

Her eyes briefly flitted to her father. He gave a small nod, but otherwise he looked… indifferent. As though he did not even care.

"We've been waiting for you," her mother said, her voice sharp and curt, "Sit." Sky didn't respond, just moved quickly to the table. She settled down in one of the empty spots, clasping her hands on her lap.

"...Is this what you call fashion?" her sister scoffed.

Sky looked down at her outfit. 

As far as the shadows could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. I cream coloured blouse, a blue skirt…It was a rather pretty outfit in the Shadow's opinion. Sky looked beautiful and charming to them. 

“Did you gain weight, again?” The red haired male said with a roll of his eyes. “You always had a horrible sweet tooth.”

What. 

Since when did that make polite dinner conversation?

Sky didn't respond, even when the shadows could see her hands tightening around each other, looking down as her mother let out an exasperated sigh. “You’ll never find a male like this,” her mother snorted. “Males don’t like it if girls don’t keep up their appearances. The least you could do is try.”

"I'm...sor...re...sorry," the stuttering had gotten worse, Sky practically shrinking into her seat. She was fidgeting, looking as though she wanted to disappear into herself and the Shadows wished that they could just sweep her far away from here.

“How is work?” Her brother asked flatly at that moment. “Still editing your stupid romance novels? I still think you should do something slightly more useful.”

So even they didn’t know. 

Sellyn Drake was a secret even from her family. But then, if her family talked to her like that and it was…normal…then the shadows weren’t surprised. 

“What else is she supposed to do?” the red haired male asked with a snort. “It’s not like she has any skills.”

Sky flinched, not looking at him. The shadows wondered if that was one of the males that had cheated on her with her sister. 

“Oh, come on, Admon. She has some skills,” her sister said at that moment, giving another winning smile. “She can annoy everybody around her with her inability to speak properly.” 

Wow. 

Sky didn’t even flinch. Sky did nothing. 

She just...sat there through all the comments. Sky didn't even try to defend herself.

The whole dinner went by like that. Comment after comment after comment. About her work, about her body, about her clothing, about her stutter… Sky barely had any dinner because every time she picked up her fork with food on it, her mother was shooting her a sharp look. So she left most of the food on her plate and the shadows wanted to bristle. 

She maybe wasn’t as thin as her mother or her sister but that didn’t make her any less beautiful or any less deserving of food! 

When they weren’t making prickly comments about sky, her older brother Orin and Claire, her sister were only talking about themselves. It was quite useful only because the shadows learned stuff like the fact that Claire and Admon were engaged to be married and that Orin was working at a bank…

But none of that information made it worth for them to treat her like that. 

Eventually the dinner finally ended after what felt like an eternity. Sky looking as though she could hardly wait to leave. She rose, and the Shadows quickly into her purse her as she grabbed her purse and her jacket.

"Leaving already?" her mother frowned, standing as well. 

"I…It's get…getting…late." Sky said, her eyes not even lifting to look at her mother.

The words were barely out of her mouth before her mother's hand darted out, gripping her jaw tightly and causing the Shadows to let out a warning hiss. Sky winced in pain as her mother forced her to look up.

“At least try to be polite, if you are utterly useless.”

Sky's eyes widened in pain as her lip wobbled. She looked as though she was going to cry, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to stay calm. "I'm…sor-r-r-ry." She whispered.

But her mother didn't even release her grip. "Don't talk to me like you are the one being wronged. Look at you. Who would want you like this?"

The Shadows bristled at her mother's words. Everyone would want her like this, they thought angrily. We would want her like this.

Sky swallowed thickly, trying to fight her tears. She was trembling, trembling from head to toe.

"I'm sor-rry. Pl-please. Let me go." She stammered.

Her mother simply sneered, and shoved her backwards, Sky nearly falling as she stumbled. "You'll never amount to anything." She said coldly. "You're nothing more than a disappointment."

Sky looked absolutely mortified at her mother's words, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she looked down at her feet. She looked like a wounded animal, like someone who had given up. And it made the Shadows burn with anger. How could her own family be so cruel to her? Didn't they see how kind she was? Or how…how sweet she was?

Sky took a step backwards, and then she was running, practically fleeing out the door, rushing into the night. She was almost running, her breaths ragged as every gasp she took sounded as though she was trying to smother her sobs.

Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking.

She just kept walking, her head down, tears still falling down from her wide eyes. Finally, she slowed down, but didn't stop walking. She made her way back home, shoulders caved in, looking utterly and completely miserable, as opened her door with her key…and then the damn burst. 

And she collapsed right on the floor in her hallway, great, heaving sobs escaping her.  

And the shadows just knew one thing with utter certainty: They were going to fix this. They were going to fix this for her and Master.

Even when it was the last fucking thing they did. 

[dragonfire2lm]

Holy shit, reading all of this just felt so damn good. I'm blind in my left eye and need glasses to see through my right, so reading other's experiences with only one functioning eye is...nice.

I thought I might share some of my experiences, because I don't really think too much about it honestly, I just know how things go for me because being half-blind is my normal.

Slopes and uneven ground are the worst. Walking is more than just seeing the ground in front of you, its also feeling it with your feet. When just out and about during the day, I can see just fine, but I do need/prefer stable ground because my depth perception is off and my balance is shit. So when dealing with say, a hill or holes i nthe ground, I take it slower, feel out each step because I can't tell how deep something is by just looknig down at it.

My night vision is also...not a thing, lol! I've gone out at night before, but would have to rely on having a torch (flashlight for you americans) with me and point down at my feet so I can see where I'm walking. For real, one time when I was walking home i nthe dark I accidently stepped onto the curb of the road because I couldn't tell I was veering that close to it, but I course corrected pretty quick. Because of my shit night-vision, we've got a motion-sensor light in the hallway for me, and I have a little lamp in my room for whenever I need to get up in the middle of the night. I don't necessarily need to turn a room's light on to see, I just need enough to tell where I'm going because gonig from darkenss with some light to full on "let me turn the bathroom light on for you" means I need to take like..ten, twenty seconds for my eyes to adjust to the suddenly bright light flooding my vision.

I'm not sure if this next thing is because I'm half-blind, or just a me thing, but I tend to not do well with navigation or cluttered environments. For example, If I need to find a phone on a table covered in clutter, you can see it, its right there surrounded by other things, but its there. I cannot see it, its not in an obvious spot where I could notice it at first glance, there's too many things, even if you point it out to me, I would still have trouble finding it. This applies to video games too! I often get lost in video games, or need my friend to point out something I missied because I just don't notice it amongst everything else.

I hate bright light. I'm very sensitive to bright light to the point most of the curtains in my home are closed, I wish real life had a brightness setting, and sunlight glinting off cars on a sunny day is my own personal hell. I've gotten flashbanged walking into the bathroom a couple of time because Mum opened all the curtains in there for important reasons I can't remember (like, she did close them later on, they are normally closed but sometimes they're open if the windows need to be cleaned or something).

People think I'm more blind than I am at first. When they first learn I can't see out of one eye, they assume I need to have things pointed out to me, like "watch out for the step/curb." when its during the day... I can see just fine, that's what the glasses are for. Yeah I can't see shit at night and will let people know that, but I know what I can and can't do...it's like people take a bit of time to really get the message that only under certain conditions do I need help and can manage the rest of the time perfectly fine on my own.

I prefer to have people walk on my blind side, because that's the side I'm keeping a closer eye on, so its easier for me to walk and talk with someone if they stay at my left.

Let's see what else? I do the head turning thing too! Its way easier and less eye strain to just turn my head towards something to look at it.

With my vision being the way it is I need to be mindful of what videogames I play. Yeah there's the obvious thing of most horror games are out because I would need to crank up the brightnesn super high and its frustrating not being able to see shit, but there's also ui elements to take into consideration. If a game uses small font, or a small hud, that's just eye strain and a headache waiting to happen. I've bought games wheere I;ve had to stop laying them because the console ports just aren't made for people like me who need larger font sizes and ui scaling, and I don't play PC because my laptop isn't a gaming one, and its much more comfortable for me to play console games because my large tv means less eye strain because its a bigger screen.

Speaking of the laptop! I wish most sites were zoom-friendly...like I need to have my web browser set to be zoomed in because again, I need the larger font and ui elements even when browsing the web. Most of the sites I frequent are fine with this (namely tumblr and AO3) but some of the sites i do use aren't zoom firendly and I have to zoom out to use the site properly, and that means tiny font and stress because I have my shit zoomed in for a fucking reason! but no, a lot of sites just don't do well with the fact that I have stuff zoomed in at 90 or 100%, like they weren't desinged to be used with zoom or larger fonts in mind.

I have to write my fanfics with font size 22 or 24 and then scale it down to a more presentable size 16 when I want to share previews of what I'm writing via google docs. Thankfully I don't have to worry about doing this on AO3.

Some of this wound up being a little bit ranty, don't take it too seriously, its just little things that frustrate me sometimes.

Stuff about having monocular vision that people don’t know (in my experience)

1. You only ever sit on one side of a room. (Especially if you’re in class) If you’re blind in your left eye like me, you sit to the left of the room so your right eye has the greatest scope, and there’s not much to your left to look at.

2. Harder time seeing past obstacles. People with two eye vision have the perception of both their eyes blend together for one image. Without this, you only have one eye, so you’re don’t get to see past obstacles the same way. For example if something is blocked for your right eye and not for your left, you can still see it through your left. For people with monocular vision this isn’t possible.

3. People don’t walk on the side of your blind eye. It may just be me, but because I’m blind in my left eye I tend to accidentally bump into people if they’re on my left. So when people walk beside me I naturally go so they’re to my right, or they do, without it being discussed.

4. 3D movies are headaches. Even though we’ve progressed past the red-blue type glasses, 3D just doesn’t work well for monocular vision. (And you know those fun optical illusions? A lot of them don’t work at all- nothing happens!)

5. Things like grabbing a pencil without looking at it are extremely difficult. (Due to lack of depth perception, you have a hard time discerning where things are in 3D space). This also stretches to having bad posture and balance. Meanwhile, things that are flat are relatively easy.

6. You turn your head when you’re looking at something, so your good eye is focused on it. This includes tilting your head at worksheets, TVs, and computer screens- and also people.

7. Seeing in the dark is also much harder, because people rely on their depth perception for it, and without that stuff gets real hard

8. The headaches. Most people with blindness don’t experience total blindness, but instead low vision, where their vision is not able to be used in a way that’s helpful. Your brain tries to merge the images, or use your bad eye to see something in the peripheral. This just makes your head hurt. Much like people who need time to adjust to having glasses due to the headache, getting headaches is common because your vision is always at odds.

9. More susceptible to eye damage. Since you’re not overly aware of your bad eye, you may not notice if the sun is shining directly at it. I tend to squint with my bad eye whenever I’m outside, without thinking about it. Additionally, you’re more wary of anything that could damage your good eye. It’s the only one, so you gotta be careful with it.

10. Also, it makes things really, really weird if there’s a bright light from one side but not from another. There are often after images that float in my vision.

11. Looking at things that are moving can be hard. I can focus on an object, but if a camera is panning in some direction without being focused on one thing in particular, I just stop being able to make sense of what I’m seeing. It becomes very jarring.

12. Sometimes it’s not that your eye necessarily has anything wrong with it, but that your optic nerve isn’t fully connected. So the eye may be healthy, but your brain shut it off, and the connection between the light coming in your eye, and the way the brain interprets it, never fully formed. Funnily enough, I’ve heard that this can cause the connection between your good eye and your brain to be stronger, as it is with mine. For some people it’s the opposite, and it makes both of their eyes worse. Peoples experiences can really differ.

[seungkw1]

ring my bell  — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 

Easier said than done. 

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 

So much for running into him tomorrow. 

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 

You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it. 

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet. 

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 

“Can I help you with that?” 

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 

But your gut is telling you otherwise. 

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 

Well, only one way to find out. 

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused. 

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 

He lets out a deep sigh. 

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile. 

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 

“Would you want to do this again?” 

“Like, right now?” you reply. 

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 

“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[oddaesthetin]

3:56 am — gojo satoru

fluff

-

“you know, i find that you’re actually quite easy to understand,” you muttered out of the blue, enigmatically, not even bothering to spare him a glance, and continued in whatever you were doing.

you saw him straighten up in your periphery,

“and by easy to understand, what do you mean exactly?”

“in a way where i know you prefer ice cream sandwiches more than ice cream cakes. or how your favorite song is shame on me by avicii because you think it reflects your life,” you stood up straight and looked at him for a second, completely ignoring what you were doing as you delved into thinking deeper. “i also know, and you’ll probably deny this, that your favourite flower is red and purple chrysanthemum because you find them vibrant and fluffy.”

the last statement reminding you of that one instance when you saw him get absolutely enticed upon seeing the flower. how he tried to fight off the intrusivity of squeezing them just to see whether they’d remain fluffy or not but failing miserably, and how his eyes got a tint of sadness when he saw the flowers crushed down to pieces. that one instance you see happen time and time again whenever he gets ahold of them.

hearing the last statement made satoru pout. not that you’ve noticed, as you went back to being engrossed in your project.

“i mean, i completely get the rationale behind that. maybe since people think you’re the strongest, or maybe since you grew up silver-spooned, it’s quite unlikely for people to assume that you’re no different at all from the rest. perhaps that thought is what makes it easy for them to separate you so they could look up to you.”

when silence engulfed the place, your eyes immediately went to the white-haired brute at the corner. although there was a distance between where you were both standing, it wasn’t as hard to notice the soft smile playing on his lips.

at the back of his mind, satoru is praying you wouldn’t see how much he cares about this conversation so much. it’s not so often you get to have these kinds of conversations, but when you do, he adorns it dearly. somehow, you always find a new way to tug his heart and mind.

he deliberately tries to fix his shades in an attempt to also hide the softened glaze his eyes bore.

“just because you know my favourite things does not make me easy to understand.” he disagreed, amidst the reddening of both his ears.

like how you get ignorantly confident from time to time, you shook your head as you answered, “but for me, you are. it’s exactly because i know you. and i’ve known you for years now. i’ve noticed your habits…how you think…they’re engraved in my mind.”

how sometimes he says something that’s exactly the opposite of what he’s thinking.

“besides, just because i think you’re easy to understand does not mean you’re not a complex person.”

how he so desperately wants to be normal and yet never wants to give up his ideals that are always adding to his hurt and burden. you saw him move from where he initially was.

“i think that all these is what makes you comforting.”

“i’m comforting?”

you raised your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “yes. to put it in easier words, you’re kinda like a close friend at a bad dinner party.”

satoru laughed. “a close friend at the dinner party, huh? what got me demoted?”

of course, satoru knows what you mean. he’s known you just as much as you’ve known him. and it makes his heart swell hearing you talk about his habits he never thought you’d take time to memorize and analyze because truthfully, no one has made an effort as deep as you did for him. when he’s with you, he feels like a common person. never having to be the strongest. never having to be gojo satoru. when he’s with you, he feels just like…toru. your man, toru.

his life with you is both seeing and being seen. he remembers his younger self— how he was so confident that he had learned everything in this world and there was nothing left for him to learn. just that thought alone made him snicker because oh boy was he so wrong, for being with you helped him discover new things, and grow as a person in many ways than one. he feels like a kid who’s only experienced the world for the first time. a world where being flawed is not a flaw, but a reason to keep loving, without hesitation and reservations. where waking up is not a task, but a choice, because he gets so excited to see your face first things first, converse with you, and do life with you. you’re like the orange to his blue. you may both be at the opposite ends of the spectrum, but you do well at complementing each other.

what you both have is bigger than the world. too complicated to explain but very easy to embrace. it’s a new feeling he’s willing to explore even more.

when he shares a space with you, it’s like the roles have been reversed. instead of him protecting you, it’s you that’s giving him safety. like tonight. he doesn’t know how to explain all this to you without his heart exploding and his words turning gibberish, but he hoped you know. his words may not be as impactful, but he tries his best to show it.

you rolled your eyes at the statement, “it’s just a figure of speech, hun.”

your boyfriend giggled and walked even closer to you. you were about to welcome his stance when he stopped you and turned you around as he wrapped his arms around your body. “yeah, well, even if it’s theoretical, i still would like to be your boyfriend. or husband, even.”

“that’s…not how what i said works, toru.” you replied at his idiocy, stifling a laugh. as he buried his face in your neck, you softly ruffled his hair. as you felt his lips smack a kiss to your neck, a whisper of “i love you” entered your ears.

-

© oddaesthetin 2024

[ficsbb]

Moments with John Wick II

》 Pairing: Loving!John Wick x Reader

》 Warnings: pet names, gross misconduct of lovey doviness

》 Word Count: 1.3k+

Note: I've been overthinking about these snippets for too long, so here I go, I release them! 🤭 Enjoy! Aplogies for any error in tense use, spelling, grammar etc. Credit to @toastray for the cute dividers!

It was hard at first, getting to know him better. You could feel the heaviness of his grief all around him. It was in everything he looked at and everything he touched, lingering in doorways after he'd walk through. He knew you could see it. It was all in your eyes and how you interacted with him during moments the sadness gathered in his throat.

“I'm okay,” he says, “I promise.” You put your hand on his cheek and nod.

"I know."

He doesn't know what it is with your touch, but it unravels that monstrous grief with ease. You watch him close his eyes briefly and bring your palm to his lips, letting out a sigh, followed by a kiss.

“You save me.” It's genuine, and every part of you knows it's true. There's been a lingering doubt with others, but never with him. When John tells you this. time and time again, it makes you feel lighter and warm.

“What do you think?” You're leafing through a pamphlet for a train vacation. It's not something you would have expected John would like. In fact, you were the one more inclined to do something like this.

“When are you thinking?” He lets out a sigh of relief, happy that you're interested at least. He's waiting for you to spot the destination on the trip he circled, the one he knows you've always wanted to go on. John pauses, waits a moment and then sees your eyes glow.

You look up at him, “Is that the one we're going on?” He nods. “Like, we're actually going, for real?” You watch as he laughs, head tipped back and adam's apple moving slightly. It warms you up just as a nice cup of hot chocolate always does.

“What about work?” John shakes his head, knowing you'd ask.

“I can work anywhere, but I'm taking a full break for the trip. I don't want to miss a moment with you.” He watches your eyes flutter, your breathing change. For a second he's worried he said the wrong thing. He worries about that all the time, but when you pull him into a tight hug, arms around his middle, he feels that pull of the string. The way it snaps straight from the center of his chest to yours and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Thank you, John. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, beautiful.”

A phone call comes through in the middle of the night. It startles you awake and you feel John put his arm over you. He knows when your nervousness or anxiety is heightened more than usual. It didn't take long for him to notice your mannerisms when you're under stress while you've been together. These things were part of his work and work has had some ways of bleeding through. Whether it was through his clothes or in the ways he could keep you safe, it bleeds through.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, voice laced in sleep. You rub at his arm as he pats your stomach a couple times before he sits up. Your eyes are adjusted to the dark as you sit up with him, watching his hand sift through his hair. He hates these moments. Similar conversations come to mind, blurred and racing as the quiet around you both becomes deafening.

“A job. I have to go.” 

“Oh.”

“I know.” 

He hates these moments. He hates the way your sleep is interrupted and the sadness so easily conveyed in the ‘oh’s’, ‘right now?’, ‘when will you be home?’ gnaws at him. 

“I'll have to be on a plane soon.” You nod, quiet, rubbing at your arm. Self soothing. John turns over to look at you and it doesn't get any easier for him when he sees that shimmer of tears gloss your eyes.

“Come here, sweetheart.” You take a deep breath to brace yourself and get out of bed to go to his side. He leans back slightly as you stand between his legs, both hands on either side of his face. His eyes close. You know he loves when you do this. It calms the both of you down in a way and any chance to touch him is a chance you'll grab at greedily.

“How long will this one take?” 

“Not long. A couple of days.” You kiss his forehead as he pulls you in closer. When he rests his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat. It's a little fast, but it's comforting. It's a song to him, the melody striking and forceful always swallowing him up. As he pulls back, he looks up at you and wipes at the rest of the tears you seem to have messily swept away.

“How about you come with me?” 

“Is that allowed?” You're genuinely surprised since he's never asked. John tells you very little about these things, hoping that sparing you details will keep you safe.

“I'm allowing it.” A rush of heat goes to your cheeks and he smiles when that twinkle is back in your eyes.

“May I kiss you?” He pulls you both into bed so you're lying down again.

“I'll allow that too.” You laugh, and he kisses you.

You slam the back door behind you and walk purposefully to the shed. It's a crisp and foggy evening. You've left John in the house somewhere, calling after you.

“Fucker,” you say under your breath, exasperated. He knows you hate big gatherings being popped up on you. While it's exhilarating being at his side at events, it also comes with your own anxieties about being seen. Apart from that, you've already made plans with close friends that you hadn't seen in a long time and it makes you angry that he's forgotten again.

“I'm sorry.” His voice startles you a bit, your thoughts swirling in an irritated bubble around you. John's voice always breaks through. You grab a bag of dirt to prep for the plants in your greenhouse.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, his voice closer than before. You sigh and pause scooping the dirt from the bag into your own mixture.

“I hate this.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I really am.” You continue what you're doing, preferring to stay quiet instead of saying something you'll regret later on. It's not long before John is right next to you, bringing his sleeves up and mixing the dirt by hand. It softens you up. The sight of him helping you always has really, and it makes you smile despite yourself.

“I can do it, John.” 

“I know you can. Let me.” You stop what you're doing and watch his hands. Watch how they sift through the dirt like he was mixing butter into a short puff pastry. So delicate and without any thought, just as natural to him as it is to breathe. John can see you from the corner of his eye. You've seemingly forgotten the mixing altogether and are leaning closer, almost shoulder to shoulder. 

“I like being here with you,” he starts, taking a used rag nearby to wipe his hands, “I can lose my focus and it doesn't cost me a life. It feels freeing.”

“I didn't know that.” You move things out of the way, cleaning as you go.

“Well, I know this is your space to get away so I try not to barge in.” He wipes some dirt from the tip of your nose.

“I always love when you're here with me.”

“Even if I upset you by being a dumb, forgetful man?” He sort of pouts and a giggle bubbles out of you. John smiles, hoping to hear that sound every moment of his life. He finds a wayward hair falling out of place and tucks it behind your ear.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls you into him, enveloping you completely. There's nothing else for you to do but fall in deep, deeper still. The smell of him calming all of your senses and somehow, some way you feel that peaceful quiet making you sleepy.

“How about this? We go inside, warm up with some hot chocolate and put on a spooky movie.” 

“Yes, please.” You say, taking his hand and following him back to the house.

You’ve never been one to push him on expressing his feelings. You learned quickly that John would come to on his own, as did you whether you realized it or not. It took an accident, a simple fall really. You were out on a walk and something struck you in how these tiny flowers, or weeds, really, stuck out from the side of the road you were walking on. The Sun shining pointedly at them and they seemed to have pointedly been reaching out to you. John had a meeting to take somewhere in town even though it was supposed to be your vacation together, so as soon as you woke in the morning to find him gone and a beautiful note at your bedside, a walk was due.

You only meant to pick a few to press when you got back to the rental, but before you knew it, your ankle rolled and you found yourself tumbling in the ditch. It wasn’t deep or far off at all, but when John found out, you might as well have fallen straight to the Earth’s core.

“You should’ve waited until I got back,” he started, pacing in the hospital room. The nurse was tending to your ankle, gently. “What if you got really hurt? How would I have known?”

“I was clumsy. I can be clumsy, John. I’m okay.”

“And if you weren’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t be.”

For some reason, that stops him. You still wonder what it was you said that calmed him down, but you remember him kneeling down in front of you and softly, deftly, taking your sprained ankle into his hands. You were going to stop him from unraveling the nurses' handiwork, but stop yourself and let him, curious. He looks you over, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, and wraps it back better than it just had been.

“You’re okay.” You nodded, understanding what he needed at that moment. He sighed heavily, looking up at you and saying, "Getting that call scared me. I don’t want you getting hurt ever again.” And there it was.

“I can’t promise that.” You both laughed quietly. He placed a kiss on your ankle and stood up.

“I know, but do it anyway. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You'll never forget that look in his eyes. Brown eyes, matching yours, shimmering with so much love. You swore in that moment that if you had reached out to put your hand on his chest, your hearts beating would be indistinguishable from the other. Not a single wave, lurch, or pulse different in any way. How curious all of this was. How lovely. How lucky.

"I promise, John." You remember saying again and he kissed you. A soft and sweet kiss that always lingers, still.

[m1rotics]

"you still here, princess?"

San rasps, and it rumbles through you. Sinks into your back that's pressed taut against his chest. Sticky from the sweat and the two of you might have melted together, you can't really tell. The thought makes you squirm, clench around nothing, he grunts low in your ear. you try to speak but you can't force air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, vision blurred at the edges. You manage a meager nod. His arm stays hooked around your neck.

"good girl, need you to stay awake, you can do that for me right?" He breathes, and loosens his hold just a bit, you wheeze out an agreement. His cock jerks at the sound, and his hip picks up their already restless pace. Then he's tightening it again, and you can't form words, drool spills out your mouth, tears building up in your eyes.

San ruts against you with reckless abandon, mindless, driven by pure need. With every gasp you take, every time you convulse, his cock twitches, pre-cum leaking from the tip. It makes the slide against the cotton of your panties easier with every pass of his hips.

You're floating, untouched by gravity, unburdened by everything in this moment. Weightless despite being trapped under San you've never felt freer, never been this light in your life.

Your eyelids are so heavy, and you struggle to hold them open, but San's words are indisputable, bouncing around in your oxygen-lacking brain. Somehow you keep them open. Doesn't mean your mind doesn't drift though.

Somewhere you can hear san's voice:

Doing so well, princess. Feel so fucking good. You were made for this.

And you hum with agreement. You were made for this. it feels so good for you, too. You would tell him that, babble it until it's the only words you know, but you can't so you settle for rocking back into him. Trying to aid him in getting closer to his release, help him use your body to the fullest. He cums hard, arm tensing around your throat, spilling onto your bare back. Some of it smears onto your panties as he rides out his high. It takes a minute for him to release the hold he has on you, and you gasp when he does.

Being able to breathe unrestricted feels jarring now, but you quickly get accustomed.

San flips onto his side, letting him arm fall over your back, "did you have fun, baby?"

You give him a cheeky smile, voice hoarse, "it was everything I wanted and more."

"that's good," he hums, pulling you closer. You see shift onto your side to take your place as little spoon. His hand snakes down your waist, slipping past the band of your panties, "you didn't get to cum, right? Let's get that sorted before we go clean up."

[thecoolerliauditore]

saw you mention gender for a bit - i wonder why grian is feminized so much? it's of course because of the feedback loop of fanon but how did it snowball so much? it would be funny if it's from him using the alex player model

I'm probably not the guy to ask for this just to be clear right off the back. I love observing fandom trends but I'm just not keeping an eye on Grian stuff more often than not. Grain (lol) of salt, blah blah blah.

So first off I think we should tackle what "feminized" means in this context because I can see that argument being made for both the default-ish generic young anime guy grian I have in my head when I think "fanon grian" and. well. arianna griande and the like (I'd argue cuteguy falls into this latter category)

I'm gonna start with the first one and use my own Grian as an example because I think he's pretty much as standard as you can go in the former category, and that's more or less on purpose. Pictured here in all of his tiny anime twink glory (next to Joel and Cleo who are also meant to be pretty short!)

So while I can't read the minds of other Grian artists, I can offer what went through my head when I designed mine and try to have a guess at how much other people thought the same.

First things first I do think this specific brand of Grian is "feminized" -- if you compare him to the CC. The goal at least for me was more to communicate youthfulness than femininity, but those traits tend to go hand in hand with male characters due to them having pretty much the same features (no facial/body hair is a big one).

Artists in this fandom tend to swing on the younger side, and people tend to base their designs unconsciously (or consciously tbh) on themselves or media they like, the latter being very likely to be media aimed at their age group and thus having a cast of characters around their age. Doesn't help that most popular animated things are made for younger audiences, so chances are most people are basing their art styles in media where the casts age range is 12-25.

For me I do think most of my designs have a little bit of added in youthfulness/femininity unless I Really want to get across age/masculinity. It's a lot easier to separate the 30 year olds from the 40 year olds if the 30 year olds look a bit closer to 20, doubly so when most of the stuff I like (and thus reference from purposefully or not) has casts full of 15 year olds. Alot of this also applies to the other younger men in my designs aside from Grian, like Joel who's next to him.

But Joel is still drawn with stubble and a bit taller than Grian, so what gives about Grian specifically?

For me personally, I draw everything with the Life Series in mind, especially Third Life in Grian's case. And the character who Grian plays off the most in that series, especially in Third Life, is Scar.

While I do think the aforementioned age factor also impacts a lot of Scar designs (as well as younger artists' tendency towards shyness when drawing muscles), I think most people see Scar's masculinity as a key trait of his. I think I'm kind of unique in that I take descriptions of their appearances ingame as somewhat canon (e.g. Scott being canonically referred to as "handsome") but Scar really lays it on thick with "Hot Guy" and the abs and so on that it's pretty much screaming for acknowledgement when you're designing him.

Grian is also short irl and this even gets mentioned by Joel in the first WL episode, so it made enough sense to me that should be something exaggerated with Desert Duo's designs to make them look better next to eachother.

This is also maybe getting a bit into headcanon territory but when I think Grian I don't necessarily think predator or brute force, I think of him setting his traps and giggling maniacally and manipulating what he wants out of people with his words instead of his sword. And him just being like. a little gremlin thing compared to his Big Strong Man partner in crime whilst also, actually being arguably the more dangerous of the two feels harmonious.

If we do a layer deeper into headcanon land, I've also always seen him as more frail and physically weak due to Martyn's concern for his safety and his own more anxious nature in 3L as one of the first players to really consider having to defend himself -- if you're dropped into a death game arena and you're the smallest one there, you would naturally be a lot more nervous than the big guys and come off as more "insane" for wanting to set up seemingly unnecessary defenses or striking first. (<-- this is why I don't talk about Grian much btw all of my thoughts regarding him are seeped in headcanons lol)

Alot of Grian artists are also Desert Duo artists and while they might not be operating by the same logic I am I have to assume there's some common points.

I've seen this meme used a lot when people make fun of other peoples DD art and it's almost always people with very little self-awareness. it's funny to me (and this probably could be its own discussion about queer tropes and xenophobia, but whatever haha funny it's literally them so true so true.)

One final note on this is I think this specific brand of twink Grian might be dipping in popularity? I've been seeing a lot more Grians that are chunkier or entirely throw out his anime-main-character-ness by making his glasses or curly hair heavily exaggerated. Which is cool I especially loveeee the more cartoony puff ball grians that have gotten more popular. Idk if it's necessarily in response to the anti-twink-propaganda or if it's just a new stage in Grian design development as we get further away from the Third Life Desert Duo meta, but it's fun and I think speaks the feminizing not really being an intentional trait and more of a consequence of other things.

As for CuteGuy/Griande I can't really offer as much insight since I don't really get the appeal either lol except that I think it's fun in the way drag is fun.

I think what a lot of people need to remember when they ask for more masculine designs is that masculinity irl is often synonymous with less customization. Alot of it is practical (like short hair obviously you can't style like long hair) and especially outside of queer circles a lot of it is just gender roles -- alot of men will refuse to wear literally plain mens t shirts if it's an eye-catching colour.

There's a great Derek Guy interview where he talks about how men tend to misunderstand what "fashion" is and how most cishet men actually care deeply about fashion. He makes the example of offering two pairs of jeans -- one is a regular pair of blue jeans that costs fifty dollars and another is free of charge but happens to be pink, and how most men despite "not caring about fashion" will go for the fifty dollar blue jeans.

If you want an example of mens fashion and its "boring" aesthetics made more to fit into a crowd than to stand out, just go on instagram and look at pictures of the Empires CCs together and watch the guys get absolutely mogged. This isn't me calling the men badly dressed (in fact I've actually noticed before that CC Joel is like. super well put together) but more of a statement on how womens clothing is designed vs how mens clothing is designed.

I know where my eyes go first, at least. (self indulgent note: Pearl is kind of an exception to the rule for reasons but I cannot say lest I betray my own moral code. however my eyes go to her first anyway because she is stunningly beautiful she could wear a potato sack and it'd work)

And while I don't agree with this sentiment (I actually loveee menswear deeply it's. a thing), in the world of fandom artists who typically are big fans of the gay gay homosexual gay and more into high-decorative, sexier stuff, clawing at any ounce of femininity that these men exhibit is probably an opportunity hard to pass on. This also happens with Jimmy on occasion I think, with stuff like the maid dress. And Ariana Griande is like Drag Drag, not just a dress but a whole persona, so that in combination with feeding into yaoi tropes for popular ships like Scarian and Grumbo, I'm not surprised there's such a gap between actual screentime and fanmade content.

Also is Griande even like. That popular anymore? I also don't think I've seen CuteGuy all that much unless it's DDVAU stuff specifically.

I'd be interested to hear my artist friends comment on this too since again I feel like I'm not the right person to ask lol. Take this as an invitation to yap I would be fascinated hearing your perspectives.

I also think his popularity and younger audience might be playing a big part in this especially in conjunction with the first point about drawing characters younger-looking but this is getting fairly rambly already lol

Go follow the menswear guy (@/dieworkwear) on twitter if you're interested in menswear btw he's very insightful and funny

[yolli-es]

I love jinx she’s my everything and my comfort character so I’m really insecure not even in normal insecurity like I’m on an deep level and I have a really bad eating disorder was wondering how would yandere! Jinx handle that I’m insecure about everything about me and i hide all my body I can’t eat or look in mirrors if I did I’ll break them (you don’t have to do this request I think it’s absolutely ridiculous also I’m okay I’m in therapy now)

Is it my fault? 🧊

Tags: mention of blood, theme of uncertainty.

Well, I was gone for quite a while, lol, but I was able to fight off the teachers and come back 💪🏻 I hope you are glad to see me again, and I also have to say that I wrote about this from my point of view, and I am sorry if I did not understand your state of mind. This topic is not so close to me, and I really tried 🙏🏻

Jinx knew from the start that something was wrong. You were always too shy, closed off, and scared. You never exposed your body. The world saw nothing but your palms and head. Is this your style? No, you always look embarrassed when your clothes suddenly ride up and just a little bit more is visible. She thought that society, all those people around you, were to blame for everything. They must have just rammed their shit into you and are enjoying themselves. Jinx won't let them trample you that easily! But nothing changes even when you become a couple and Jinx becomes your rock and protection from any unwanted contact. No, she cut you off from the world. Seeing your insecurities seemed right to her. Jinx just makes your life easier, doesn't she? You didn't change.

It seemed to only get worse.

Mirrors. It took Jinx a moment to realize you were doing this. Everything in Zaun was broken, even the people. And yet there was something strange about the mirrors in your house. She resisted for a long time and attributed everything to her new quirks. Then she counted the number of cracks on all the mirrors you could reach. And she knew. Her stomach twisted, her pupils dilated, and she wanted to pass out. No, she was going to do it right now. You were breaking mirrors. Everywhere you could reach. How could she not notice? There's blood in the cracks that can't be washed away. Damn, did you do that with your bare hand? No, no, no.

"It's my fault."

It took all her strength not to lose the last fragments of her sanity. She honestly didn't understand why. You weren't threatened, you didn't talk to anyone, and you were always under Jinx's supervision. Unless....no. She would never have affected you like that. Jinx held back then and didn't tell you anything. No matter how much Mylo screamed, Claggor was right. This would scare you; she had to act rationally now. She needs to give you time and herself time too. Jinx needs to know the real reason for your behavior. Now she will be even more attentive.

Jinx had no idea then that the broken mirrors were just the tip of a deeper problem.

You rarely dine together, usually having to eat on the run or while working. But today is a special day—your anniversary. You've been together for a year. 

Jinx bites her lip, Her nails make an audible sound as they scratch the tray with the rich cake on it. She baked it herself. But right now she's not thinking about the cake or even the anniversary. Jinx can't sleep, can't work, and even explosions don't bring pleasure. What else are you hiding? She's been watching you for weeks now after she found out about your horrible habit, but Jinx still hasn't found out anything new. But there's something else going on with you, something she doesn't know about. She feels it. Mylo chuckled. Jinx hissed. She smiled tensely before starting the conversation.

"We've been together for a long time, haven't we?" She forced herself to smile, but it came out ragged and menacing. "I mean, we're like family now. Do you consider me your family?"

Jinx, trying not to make it too obvious, leaned forward. It looked menacing. You certainly noticed it. She's just trying to keep herself together, not to give away the pressure that's built up inside her.

"Hmm, yes, Jinx, I've told you that many times! You mean a lot to me." You smiled, sincerely as always.

But Jinx doesn't believe you now. No, she just can't. Anxiety, fear, and misunderstanding are eating her up from the inside.

"Good," Jinx sat down on the chair, creaking it closer to the table. "Then let's eat."

But Jinx doesn't even try to start eating, just looking at you. A new thought flashed through her mind. Strangely, despite her obsession with your existence, she's never watched you eat.

"Are you okay? You're looking at me like that," you swallowed nervously. The atmosphere was definitely not friendly.

"Oh, sorry," she didn't even try to put on a happy face this time, "start without me."

You hesitated, looking down at the plate. Jinx carefully cut a small piece of cake and placed it right in front of you. It was fluffy, with lots of cream, and covered in food coloring. It looked beautiful and delicious. You picked up a fork and began to break it into pieces.

"So.. how's your work?" You looked up, suddenly more confident and clearly in high spirits. This confused Jinx. She responded without really thinking. Her gaze was glued to you and your hands. You didn't like it and began to distract her in various ways. This had been going on for ten minutes now, and you still hadn't put a bite in your mouth.

Jinx's eyes, which had been looking at you emotionlessly until now, suddenly narrowed in concern. And you realized. Your seat suddenly became uncomfortable, and the room was hot.

"You don't like it?" Jinx asked quietly, cautiously, almost scared. Shyness, hiding your body behind baggy clothes, breaking mirrors, and not wanting to eat your once favorite cake. Was it ever your favorite? It seemed like the puzzle was coming together in her head.

"What? Oh, no! I'm just not hungry." You were caught off guard. Is this the end? Has she figured it out, and is she going to leave you? Will she be angry or cry? You couldn't stop thinking, going over all the possible reactions Jinx might have. Unfortunately, your girlfriend wasn't stupid. She noticed it was evident on her face. The trick that worked on everyone else had no effect on her.

You can't eat. Every time you eat something like this, your conscience gnaws at you. You want to spit out everything you ate.

"I'm so sorry," was the first thing Jinx said. "I'm sorry; I should have noticed. Are you... is this because of me?" Jinx spoke softly, but there was no hint of tears on her face. There was no emotion at all. You were hurt by what was happening. Any reaction she might give would hurt you.

Jinx is about to explode with emotion. She's trying so hard to be "normal" right now so you can rely on her to open up. It's heartbreaking, but it's having the desired effect, and you're plucking up your courage.

You took a breath. This is going to be hard.

Of course Jinx thought she was just taking shitty care of you, cruelly ignoring your problems and leaving you to suffer alone.

But that's not true. You never shifted responsibility to others, realizing that you were simply insecure in yourself. You certainly met shitty people—more than you wanted. But who in Zaun pays attention to them? You just suffered from constant comparisons to others and couldn't do anything about it. You honestly fought with yourself, your shyness, and other shit that was dragging you down. Jinx only helped you along the way, without realizing it. Every time she proudly held your hand walking along the busy streets, every time she unashamedly said, "Yes, this is my future wife," and every time she ignored the advances of a conventionally beautiful girl.

Your silence and her speculations brought you here.

And yet you came to understand Jinx. How could it be otherwise? She will never let you go.

But you will never want to leave.

"Oh, I'm always here," Jinx hugged you, and you did the same in return. It was a pleasant ending after several hours of relentless altercations. You were silent, whispering, screaming, crying, and didn't understand each other. But now everything became clear.

Jinx, on her yandere side, is not ready to leave everything just like that. Now in your house there is only one whole mirror, specially stolen from Piltover. You often eat together, and Jinx tries to make each meal as relaxed for you as possible so that you simply forget about the food itself. She will definitely not let you go, love you less, judge you, or make the situation better by force. Not with this problem. She will do everything you ask to make you feel better.

Jinx loves you.

In her strange way.

That's all! I hope you haven't forgotten about me 😅 This work is quite short, but I hope I was able to convey the main points and mood.

[666writingcafe]

Wrath

A Text Conversation Between Satan and MC

Satan: You don't have to worry about my transition affecting you. As it turns out, the bulk of it occurred before you were even introduced to us.

Satan: Part of why this is even happening is because the others were once angels, so it's taking their bodies longer to adjust to their new form.

Satan: Meanwhile, this is all I've ever been, so it's a bit easier for me to accept who I am.

MC: I appreciate you telling me this. I sure could use the break from experiencing everyone's sin.

Satan: I bet. You must be exhausted.

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

MC: Can I ask you a personal question?

Satan: As long as you're prepared for the fact that I may not answer.

MC: Fair enough.

MC: What was your biggest fear?

Satan: During that time?

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: Being reduced to a mere shadow of Lucifer. I started as a feeling inside him. The more he felt it, the stronger I became. The war and consequent fall caused me to separate from him.

Satan: For the longest time, my mind was a wasteland. I had to separate my identity from Lucifer's, which was quite frustrating, to say the least. I know there will always be similarities between us, but it's taken me a while to find any substantial differences. I've had to force some to form in order to gain some semblance of self.

MC: How did you overcome it?

Satan: By listening to you.

Satan: When you summoned that ball of light, it was the first time I've truly been calm. The longer I held the light in my hands, the more I could discern its whispering. It was your voice comforting me. It was soothing.

Satan: But it also felt familiar.

Satan: Which brings me to my next point.

Satan: I know who you really are, MC.

MC: *eek sticker*

MC: *eek sticker*

MC: *eek sticker*

Satan: It's okay. I'm not upset. I understand why you had to keep your true identity a secret. I wouldn't have even found out if it wasn't for Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

MC: WHAT????

Satan: Don't worry; they didn't tell me outright. I just happened to be in the castle library when they walked in and began talking about you. If they knew I was in the room with them, I doubt they would have said anything about it until I left, but I was tucked in a corner behind a couple bookshelves, so they couldn't have seen me without purposely looking for me.

MC: *face-palming crow sticker*

MC: You REALLY weren't supposed to find out, but it's not like I can do anything to change it.

MC: So, tell me what you overheard them say about me.

Satan: I know you come from a future timeline. The prince apparently had told Barbatos to try to find your version of the butler and get some answers from him about why all this has been happening to you. They've really been worried about you and want to do everything in their power to help you.

MC: I imagine my Barbatos was selective about what he shared.

Satan: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: He mentioned that back home, you're a human that managed to form pacts with all seven of us and that a large part of your power became tied to your emotions as a result.

Satan: He also seems to believe you were sent here to experience each of our transformations firsthand so that you can help someone go through their own.

Satan: Obviously, he didn't reveal who that person was, but both my Diavolo and Barbatos felt like that would have been unnecessary information, for they've observed someone begin acting differently during your stay here.

MC: Oh?

Satan: Apparently, he trapped you in a closet at some point?

MC: Shit.

Satan: So it IS him, then?

MC: Yes.

Satan: The only memories I have of him prior to him visiting us for the founding ceremony are hazy and through Lucifer's eyes, but I've always gotten the sense he's not been particularly happy about where he's at.

Satan: I just didn't think he'd have the guts to do anything to wildly change his circumstances. He seems too devoted to the little one to just pack his things and leave it all behind.

MC: I don't think he did when we first met.

Satan: Are you able to tell me what changed, or would that be revealing too much information?

MC: I can give you the simple answer and let you fill in the blanks.

Satan: *thumbs up emoji*

MC: He developed strong feelings for me.

Satan: But you're a human.

MC: Yes.

Satan: And he's an angel.

MC: At the time, yes.

Satan: Wait a damn minute.

Satan: Did he seriously FALL for you?!

MC: Not quite. He was still an angel when I left, but he'd made some choices beforehand that pretty much sealed his fate. I just don't know what exactly he'll be when I return.

Satan: Well, judging by the way they're saying he's currently acting here, I'd say he's gearing up to be YOURS.

Satan: And I'm not trying to be sappy. I'm being completely serious.

MC: I don't doubt it.

Satan: When he believed everyone was out of the room when you and Asmo were passed out, he was right by your side, watching over you.

Satan: According to Barbatos, he even held your hand and kissed you on the forehead before he eventually got up and left.

Satan: Angels don't typically act that way towards demons. Even with Diavolo's efforts to make peace with the Celestial Realm, they tend to act rather hostile whenever they're around us for more than a few seconds.

MC: I know.

Satan: I'll let you get some rest. You'll need it

Satan: And don't worry; your secret is safe with me.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[furiousgoldfish]

On effortless recovery (personal)

I've been slowly dealing with cptsd and osdd for the last 8 years, and while I've had to actively work on some stuff, other have just happened without my interference, or at least, without me knowing I did anything about it. I have not been to therapy; or rather, there's been several attempts that were not working, and I had to end them. For instance, I've had therapy with someone who showed next to no interest in my issues and kept minimizing and ignoring whatever I've been saying, and this was the only person who didn't try to institutionalize me.

I've had to actively work on osdd, and it's something I'm learning about, and understand more as I go, but I also get that osdd is making everything else much easier on me. For instance, lots of my memories and thoughts are being blocked from me, and contained in alters who are making sure that I'm not affected by it, that is a huge help. Lots of thoughts that would upset me if I thought about them, are completely out of my reach, and if I do try to think about them, my mind goes blank and I forgot what I was thinking about. That's a great help for issues like anxiety and spiraling; I used to drown in my own fears and worries; now I just can't remember any of it. It is slightly depressing that my own peace of mind requires that big amount of amnesia, but you know, having some peace is so nice I could never be anything less than grateful for it. Being able to maintain some semblance of peace feels like resiliency, it means I have a place of quiet where I can go back to, even when distressing things happen.

I'm having my chronic pain and chronic exhaustion ease away from me very slowly. I still get exhausted easily, and am tired way more often than a regular person, but I now rarely get days when I can't get out of bed, or have to sacrifice a whole week due to a flashback or a nightmare. I no longer get anxious about planning to do something a day or two ahead because I can count on having at least a basic amount of energy. I don't think I've done anything to create this, it was just happening over the years, on its own. It's also happening so slowly that I don't even feel the progress, I have to remember to look 3 or 5 years back and remember just how much time I've been spending in bed then, to realize that it's less now, that I can do multiple activities a day now. I know I'm extremely lucky to be recovering from this, because there are people who have a chronic condition that doesn't allow for recovery, and I am very grateful for every day I can move around.

Another thing that is much better is sleeping! I used to wake up feeling like I'm dying, overheated, stressed, anxious, sometimes even paralyzed in fear, and if not fear, then grief would hold me down and I would be too sad to move. Now I'm finding myself waking up thinking 'Oh I'm so well rested! I have the energy to tackle some chores' like I'm in an actual good mood. And it's like ??? what is going on, since when is this me. I've been dreaming of having mornings like this, and now I have them, and it just happened over time (8 years) I still only think about doing chores when I have energy, because I know it's the only time of day I'll have any energy, so if I wake up restful I will rush to do dishes, laundry, cleaning, cooking, and whatever else, because I know the energy will go away later and I will become a sad slob. But it's much better than waking up and having to take a few hours (or days) just to recover from sleeping. My sleeping schedule has been 8 hours all along, I somehow can't sleep over the 8 hour mark, and can't function if I sleep less than 7.

I will still sometimes have flashbacks and meltdowns if anything bad happens to me, but the recovery time from them has gone way down. It used to be weeks, months even, to recover from a single bad event. Now it's more like hours and days. It's still not very similar to what I think a regular person would have to deal with, but I love the progress very much! One thing that slips my mind is that I regularly forget how much worse things used to be. If I bounce back from something, I forget that in the past, this would ruin me for weeks, and I forget that this is progress and to take a minute to acknowledge that. I just take what I can and go. But it's good to look at it and see that life is a little easier.

Some anxiety has also withered away from me, because so much of my anxiety was due to inexperience. New problems that would appear in my life seemed unsolvable and catastrophic, because I never faced those problems before, didn't know how to solve it, didn't dare to ask for help, didn't have skills or knowledge to tackle any of them myself, and all of it felt like it would lead to my doom. After already having solved some of those problems multiple times, I'm at peace just because I know what to do now. I haven't done much asking for help to be honest, because I hate it, but in struggling to solve the problems myself (sometimes taking months and years to do so), I've gathered knowledge, skills and experience, and I now have a general idea of what to do in situations that reoccur, and also know what to expect, how long something will take, what type of action will resolve it. Just living and tackling things by myself, and succeeding, eases a lot of anxiety. There is a solution to everything, with sufficient knowledge, experience and skills.

A lot of stuff that's previously been bothering me to the level where I couldn't deal with it, can now be dealt with merely distracting myself from it. Which I think is very funny, because I used to consider all my time playing games or looking at funny videos 'procrastination', because I wasn't being productive right, I was just 'procrastinating' and delaying dealing with life. Now I value these activities specifically because they can save me from feeling miserable and sad. There's a warmth to looking at people being goofy, funny, interesting, entertaining, and taking joy in it, and reminding myself there's still a lot of good things in the world, there are good people, there is warmth, there is love, and I feel better after seeing it, regardless of how awful I felt before. Having my own thoughts redirected to something hopeful is making my days better, more stable. I think I'm just stopping myself from spiraling into hopelessness, by looking directly at hope and staying fixated on it for long enough. And it's something I didn't previously value as a real activity, because I didn't believe that making myself feel better while producing nothing, was a worthwhile pursuit.

Being safe from abuse for a long time managed to erode the feelings of guilt and shame I had in my own interests, thoughts and activities, and I've became unafraid of any failures. It is now very clear to me that failing is the only way towards learning and it's incredibly valuable. I'm shameless at starting new hobbies and activities and it does not bother me whatsoever when I do badly. Even failing at big stuff in my life, things that created actual damage to me, supplied me with knowledge I don't think I would otherwise gain, and I treasure it. I don't feel ashamed or like I've done anything wrong. I've been able to engage with my own curiosity about things and I'm now able to ask questions about anything, without feeling bad for 'not knowing already'.

I've also accepted that I'm bad at some stuff, and it doesn't mean anything much about me, we're all bad at something. Sometimes I'm bad at stuff, but enjoy doing them, so I still do them, fun gives it good value! And if I'm both bad at something and don't enjoy it, then I completely drop it, and feel okay knowing this just isn't for me. I remember when I used to believe I'm bad at everything, just because I was getting such horrid feedback on it, now it's almost funny. I like stuff I create even when I do them badly, because I remember how much fun I had doing it. If I want to do them better, I know I just need to keep practicing and it will happen. Nothing a human creates is shameful, especially if it's not causing any harm to anyone. We're made to create and it makes us happy.

I don't think I've done anything specific to create these changes, maybe some critical analysis of the past, and some willingness to consider my own happiness important and worthwhile. I think I spent so much time grieving that I've actually processed the most of it, so I'm no longer as overwhelmed by it as I was before. It's not like I'm no longer sad, I will start sobbing frequently and whenever I'm tired, I am automatically miserable. But it is no longer constant, suffocating feeling that follows me for every second of existence.

I haven't done anything to fix the sleeping or to ease the chronic pain, that was just time and being safe from abuse for a longer period. I wanted to write this specifically because I've been waking up feeling okay the last few days and that was a shock to experience, what a bliss to wake up and think 'I'm well rested'. Incredible life experience.

[matrixsss]

Foxy Escapades

For day 2: Fox for @lucienweekofficial

A/N: This is just a short ficlet, I am having a bit of a writers block but I still wanted to write something for this week. Hope you enjoy it

Read here or on AO3

Every once in a while, Lucien gets overwhelmed with being himself. Being an emissary is hard work on the most normal and easy of days. Having to deal with other courts and their ways can get infuriating. He knows how to navigate these situations, of course, it doesn’t make it any easier though. Lucien, when overwhelmed can be cranky and sometimes out of control. Tamlin knows the signs of an overwhelmed Lucien before Lucien himself knows it.  

Tamlin hated the sound of bones cracking as he shifted others or himself, but he would do anything to help Lucien out. So, he shapeshifts Lucien into a small mischievous fox and as soon as he does, the fox runs off into the same direction as he always does; Autumn court. Although Beron was no longer among them, Lucien still couldn’t bear going back to his home in his fae form.  

As a fox though? It gave him enough courage.  

Lucien had no thoughts as he ran towards the autumn forest, just a sense of pure freedom. The crunching of colourful leaves beneath his paws, the familiar brisk and crisp smell of his beloved home. He kept running and jumping over fallen aspen logs, always careful of not setting off a bear trap that he knew were around the vast autumn courts forest.  

“Drop it.” Lucien knew that voice, it belonged to none other than his older brother; Eris. An idea popped into his foxy head when he heard the voice. Their relationship was... well rocky to say the least. So many years have passed, many tragedies alongside them that built a wall between the once close brothers.  

He had good memories of Eris showing him good hiding spots in their library, how to catch fish in the stream far away from the Forest house. Lucien remembers how Eris taught him to not fear the fire running through his veins and how to wield them. Which somehow always turned into a game of who can make the funniest shapes made from their fires.  

Mind you, Lucien always won (Eris would disagree).  

The ginger tried to fix whatever was salvageable of their relationship, but it was not easy. Eris’ walls were built so high and mighty that no-one and nothing could break through them. Deep inside he had a feeling that Eris wanted to reach out, but the years of Berons reign left him broken, unable or rather he did not know how to be soft and accepting.  

Lucien stealthily sneaked closer to where his brother stood, surrounded by his hounds. One of the hounds sniffed the air before its eyes met Luciens’. He half expected the hound to bark to alert the others of his presence, but it was like the hound knew who it was. So, it did nothing but turn around and plopped its’ entire body on the fallen leaves. 

Lucien stared at Eris’ back as he calculated his next moves. In a second, he ran towards him, leaping in the sky towards his brother, who at the last second turned around and Lucien ended up bouncing off his face. His brothers’ head was pushed back from the push of his paws as he stared ahead in pure shock.  

The hounds did nothing, they did not care of the fox's presence which told Eris everything he needed to know. The small smile on his brothers’ face told him as much.  

The two brothers played around, like they used to in the past, just in a different way. Eris’ laughter bouncing off the trees and foliage around them, so much so that even the forest started to glow in pure joy.  

With the sun soon to set, Lucien looked at his brother, huffing at him – a goodbye for now- before running back towards his other home and his high lord.   The worries he had before, gone.

***

Hope you liked this little thing, you can use the header image if you'd like ☺️

[rqfreak]

How do I become plural and/or programmed? I want to soso bad :[

hai !! thanx for asking !

here’s my personal compilation of trans - plural , tris - plural , willo - genic , etc. tips !!!! i hope they are helpful ! （＾ω＾）

1st . yu need to dissociate . like , a lot . if yu don’t already dissociate , try forcing it . zoning out and convincing yurself yu aren’t . . yu , is helpful . depersonalization , which is the disconnect between the mind and body , in particular is rlly important ( but derealization works too ) . depersonalization is the building block of everything .

2nd . yu need to be creative . make up headmates ( or use bah blogs { i have one ,, go follow @bahfreak ;3 } ) and pretend to be them . fake it ‘til you make it is really helpful here ! assign them roles and front triggers so yu know when to act as them .

3rd . exaggerate symptoms . convince yurself yu don’t remember certain aspects of yurself , yur items , people yu should know , skills yu should have , etcétera !!! doing research on multiplicity / osddid is also important so yu know what symptoms to act out . it’s easier if yu fake symptoms yu already have and make them a bigger ordeal !

4th . imagine / pretend . think of yur desired headmates as already being present . make spotify playlists , tumblr blogs , pinterest boards , pluralkit members , and more !! if yu see something a headmate would like , tell yurself that . convince yurself they are real .

5th . use inspiration . look at other systems ; how do their alters act ? how different are they ? what are their inner - worlds like ? remember , every system is different , so yu can do whatever yu want !!! inspiration is just helpful to get yur creative juices flowing !

that’s all i have at the moment . . . for being trans - programmed , i would have to get back to yu later on that . im not as informed about programs , but these tips should help there as well .

research , pretend , make it real .

i wish yu luck , anon !!!

[ificouldbeegintobee]

Magic.

It's something they can't describe, yet somehow innately understand. There's not quite a word for it when it's simply... everything, to them. It's the wind-chimes that ring when they speak without thought, the sprouting leaves inside their chest where a heart should be. Whispers of soul song and the urge of instinct that they them to take, hoard, and collect.

How does one explain what makes you tick? Can they unravel themselves, pulling leaves and fur apart to pull out the energy within?

It comes as easily as they breathe, perhaps easier so. Breathing requires a chest, lungs and a million other parts of flesh prone to mistakes and malfunctions.

They're just them.

Soul song and wind-chimes and a root system and a million different sparks under not-quite-skin.

Magic allows them to know what they are without having to explain. They can tell which plants are theirs-them and world-them and not-them or almost-them. They'd known a scientist, once. He was... passionate. Humans weren't known for soul-songs. At least not audible ones, in any form. But he was a crescendo anyway, in the way he spoke and moved despite the disbelieving stares of those around him.

Magic is just unexplained science! He'd declare, and he'd been mocked for it. Many a season had gone by with them watching him as he worked, calculations spreading from his papers to his notebooks, from his notebooks to his walls.

Mad, the humans had declared him as he scratched mathematical equations into his walls. A lunatic! Utterly deranged!

Entertaining, their kin had noted. Although you really need to pick better pets- why, this one looks like it won't last another season!

He'd lasted another. And another. And another.

It was then they'd realised that there was something in his chest, and it was singing back.

It was chiptune before chiptune was even invented, the scratch of a violin untuned. It dripped from his words as he rambled on, body held together by magic theirs-them and also his. It was a crescendo, just as they expected- the steady beat of drums hammering away to an increasingly frenzied beat.

The rhythm stuttered, the staccatos breaking into thirds and ninths and sixths. Good things come in threes, but this wasn't good at all.

The decay was terrifying, in the way his mind faded as his body trudged on, equations turning into runes for the arcane. Writings that squirmed across the floor, tainting and twisting in ways not even they could see.

Magic was never meant to be defined like this.

He'd finally understood the fundamentals of magic- but at what cost?

They'd never been more relieved to see a body crumble.

"I- I suppose it depends on the individual- I...don't normally keep people around long enough to test the effects! It's better to be safe than sorry, really. I... like to compare it to- ah, what is it called...? The machine that enables you to look inside yourself- the x-ray!"

They don't want to see it again. They can. They could. Handling it- they're sure they could. This doesn't mean they want to. " When humanity first discovered it, they used it so much only to realise they were slowly killing themselves- yet it's a useful thing in small doses, isn't it? Magic's...highly unpredictable, anyway...haha..."

Their laughter trails off at the end, small and strained. Their form trembles for a moment, paws into hooves into claws, fur into scales into bark.

As Vice offers- promises to never tell a soul, their gaze snaps to him, even if it isn't visible.

"...no, no, it's-it's alright. If people need aid- you can contact me! You- you can get people, you can send them here. ...just...don't go shouting it around to the city. I... don't... think I wish to deal with the chaos of too many knowing."

But there's someone you don't trust.

But there's someone you can't trust.

It's a clawing thing on their back, and they who is known as Hibiscus refuses to take that risk, even if this is, in itself, a risk.

"...but." They begin, and the air chimes with it. Windchimes. ...there's none around.

"...there are two people I cannot...let you inform of this place at all. No mentions- if they truly need help, you must ask before even- even daring to imply the existence of any of this to them. ...please."

They feel larger, somehow. Smaller, yet larger at the same time. Body shaking, they stand from their seat, claws digging into the wooden floors as they rise. Hooves paw at the ground, and the air is very, very, still.

The fire's gone silent.

This doesn't feel like a request at all.

( Yet somehow, it's still so pleading. )

(( are you fine with novella roleplay, mun??? ))

[ location linked ]

((Damn I’ll try my best! Never really done it before but I get the jist!))

Gotcha !!

See ya (?) soon !!

[sanlangkiss]

having a hard evening so im coping by thinking about hualian dealing with xie lians selective mutism. i imagine they communicate by writing on each other's hands when needed. hua cheng doesn't talk so he doesn't stimulate xie lian any further. he keeps xie lian company, making sure to understand what he needs and what he wants. i love them so much

[ikishima]

My #1 advice for people moving out is to NOT buy nonstick cookware... not only is the lifespan of nonstick a MAXIMUM of 7 years (usually more like 2-5 years) but teflon, aka Polytetrafluoroethylene-- the plastic coating that makes the cookware nonstick, infuses microplastics into your food.

New cookware sets can cost hundreds of dollars so my advice is to look for 100% stainless steel cookware in thrift stores. Safer, cheaper, & instead of needing to replace every 2-7 years they can potentially last you the entire rest of your life AND they won't start shedding plastic into your food

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭