#i don't even want to post it BUT THREE HOURS

[violue]

God, I cannot overstate how much I DON'T want to hear what someone thinks I did wrong with a fic I posted in 2016, unless there is something genuinely harmful (no, having a m/m pairing with the "wrong" character topping does not count) that needs to be addressed.

What are people expecting? An apology? A draft of a rewrite?

An enthusiastic, kind ao3 comment can brighten a day. A nitpicky negative comment can RUIN a day, especially for someone like me that struggles with rejection sensitive dysphoria.

The ONLY benefit of criticizing a work that did not ask for critique is to make you feel better by announcing how the story failed to meet your standards. You're not helping the writer "become a better writer", you're not leaving criticism you're "entitled to" because you paid for the story, since it's free. You're making yourself feel good at the expense of the writer who spent hours on their story.

A couple years ago I got into an argument with someone who had left a multi-paragraph comment on a friend's (VERY POPULAR BTW) fic from several years ago, about how they felt the story had the characterizations all wrong, they didn't like the direction the plot went, etc. Then they were offended that they were being told their opinion wasn't welcome. So they dished it out and couldn't take it I guess. When the author blocked them, they came to MY account to comment on a fic to continue the argument. They complained that the author was a fragile snowflake and not recognizing that THEY were the fragile on if they were this defensive about their opinion that they "make no apologies for". (There's also a large time gap in the argument where they for some reason came back to continue bitching after nearly a YEAR??)

That's fan entitlement. That's having so much fic to choose from that you think it needs to be an author's problem when they don't meet your standards. That's you being so self centered that you think people owe it to you to know your opinion.

I'm an incredibly picky reader. I'll drop a story three paragraphs in because I don't like the "voice", or the characterization, etc... but that doesn't need to be the author's problem. They didn't do something wrong, their story just didn't gel with me.

Internalize this: SHARING YOUR OPINION IS NOT VITAL.

That was a phrase that helped me become (somewhat)less of an asshole on social media. Take a second to consider the benefit of the comment you're leaving. A kind word, an acknowledgement, an enthusiastic joyful rant about your favorite parts... that all benefits you and the author that put time and effort and sometimes even tears into their story. A list of things you think the author failed at? That benefits ONLY you. It makes YOU feel a little better for two seconds at the expense of someone else. There is no value to that unless you think you're the only person that matters.

So, you don't like a fic you just read? Vaguepost a rant on your social media. Jot your feelings down and then throw the page in the trash. Or... WRITE YOUR OWN FUCKING STORY AND POST IT.

I wanna know where people have lately gotten the audacity to leave comments on fanfics talking about how much the fanfic sucked and negatively critiquing an author's fic like it's a published book review.

It pisses me off cause I've seen authors abandoned or delete their fics because of this.

You're getting fanfics for FREE! No one asked for your opinion.

I hope y'all know as authors we get email notifications when you comment so we see EVERY comment that's been left.

We also can see the negative reviews you leave when you bookmark our fics

[strngegirl]

hii i really loved ur gojo: overtime drabble, can i req something similar with gojo but instead of us giving him a handjob he gives us one😞😞 idk if u write for male readers but if you do please do so!!

hellooo!! im happy you liked that post :DD nd i dont usually write for male readers but i would! so here it isss (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) i hope it's satisfying enough </3 this is kinda rushed ,,,

cw: gojo x very tired m!reader, very aggressive handjob (reader receiving), cum eating (gojo), both are ordinary office workers, unestablished relationship, reader kinda hates gojo, not proofread

It's currently 9 PM and you still haven't gone home yet. You would if you could, but that's the thing; you couldn't.

Your boss dumped a whole stack of work onto your desk last minute, said something about having no one else to do this for, then proceeded to leave without sparing you a second glance. The cruelty of this goddamn country and its corporate workplace rules has you daydreaming about blowing the whole place up. Alas, you couldn't. There'd be more consequences doing that, so you decided to simply do your job like a good, loyal mutt. If you even want to call yourself that.

What's even worse is that, you're alone within the same vicinity as Gojo Satoru.

It's not like he's the boss that dumped all his work onto you, he's just another worker in this god forsaken office whom the boss hates—but you hate him even more. Born rich and yet he chose to work here, everyone likes his magnetic personality, he always wears designer, and he's fucking hot. It's infuriating how he has it all and yet he's here in the marketing department of a shitty company that's teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. What does he even gain from this? "Experienced being a peasant" on his resume?

He's currently in the cubicle right across from you, and you're not even sure why he's here. He's been humming trending songs that kept playing in stores for the past few hours and giggling at something you don't really wanna know. Can't he see you're literally suffering working overtime?!

You narrow your eyes at the scintillating screen, the only source of light in the dark office alongside the table lamp you turned on three hours ago. Gojo laughs at something and you clench your teeth, trying to will yourself to not react to his disruptions because you just want to get these over with and go straight home and sleep. It was going so well until he started to talk to himself, then the already thinning string of restraint snapped.

"That happened? No way. Crazy-"

"Can you shut the fuck up?" You growl, a hand running down your face as the other grip your mouse so hard your knuckles are whitening.

There was a moment of silence where both of you say nothing, and honestly you're starting to relax a little at the upcoming tranquility that you thought would arrive, but as quickly as it had came, it went.

You see Gojo's white hair slowly appearing at the top of your vision, and you lift your head to look at him. He's currently looking over your cubicle with an impassive expression, those azure eyes staring right down at you beneath his shades like he's judging you for something you didn't do.

"You talking to me?" He asks.

"Is there anybody else in here that's been yapping all fucking night?" You deadpan. Something about what you've said must've been funny, because he starts smiling. God, that's straight up aggravating.

He lifts his arms up to support himself as he leans onto the partition, making it creak under the weight of his pressure. The old thing's gonna break. You hope it doesn't. If he crashes down and crushes your computer, you swear you're losing it.

"You're so mean tonight, man. Can't you go back to throwing me nasty glares instead? I like those better." He pouts mockingly at you, which grates on your nerves even further. Your work is forgotten as you currently just want to snap at him.

"Why are you even here? Seriously. You don't even need to work overtime, no one is forcing you to do their work you can just go back to your fucking penthouse and sleep like I've been wanting to for the last few hours. I'm tired, hungry and I seriously can't stand wearing this goddamn suit for another minute. All I want is some peace and quiet and yet, you're there, doing god knows what and breaking the only good thing I have right now." Your voice rises at every syllable that leaves your lips, and once you finish you take a deep inhale, feeling your body heat up from unleashing your frustration. You look back up at him and all you see is a raise of an eyebrow.

Gojo brushes a strand of hair away from his eyes then slowly starts to bob his head, unfolding his arms and clapping them onto your partition.

"Ooookay. Well, I'm here for you, actually." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow at that. "Don't. Not yet. Let me explain."

He disappears back into his own cubicle for a second, before you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps approaching your cubicle. He stops at the entrance and leans against it, both hands simultaneously tucked into his pockets.

"I wanted to talk to you."

You blink.

"And we couldn't have talked in the morning or afternoon?"

He smiles a little. "Mmh, no. It's... Personal, and I'd rather we don't have any interruptions."

Now you're kinda curious. Pushing your one-sided hatred for him aside, you turn your chair to fully face him as you inquire him with a questioning stare.

"Anyways," he pulls his hands out and clasps them with a clap. "I know you hate me. And it's probably because of my dazzling appearance and charming antics that have half the office swooning over me"—you roll your eyes at that—"but! I don't want you to hate me."

You scoff at that. Does he just want everyone to love him? Is that it? So there'd be more people at his beck and call?

"I don't want to turn into one of your fans, Gojo." You rub your eyes.

"That's not my goal! Swear." Suddenly, he walks over and places both hands onto the handles of your chair and effectively caging you in, the abrupt proximity prompting you to lean back so fast your head spins for a second. His face is mere inches away from yours, as if silently threatening to kiss you.

The intimate way he's looking at you right now is making you feel a cacophony of things you're not sure what to name. You're sure annoyance is in there somewhere, but also mixed with other things you seriously don't want to acknowledge. No, it's mostly surprise.

"What the fuck are you-"

"I like you more than I should, you know." He murmurs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "No one else in the office looks at me the way you do. It's fascinating."

Surprise washes over you when he gets closer, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips. It has to be the lethargy you're feeling right now, because why does kissing him seem so tempting?

Your lips suddenly feel dry, and the moment you dart your tongue out to wet it, you inadvertently lick his lips. He took that as a sign to crash his lips into yours. It was all bumping teeth, tongue biting and sloppy kisses, one that overwhelms your clouded mind. He puts more of his weight on you, causing the chair you're sitting on to roll back before it inevitably bumps into the partition, causing it to tremble slightly. That doesn't deter him from continuing to ravish your mouth.

You don't understand why you're not stopping him. In reality, you should be hating this. Hating him. But somehow, you're actually liking it. The realization sends shivers down your spine.

You hardly register what's happening, and next thing you know, you feel a sudden breeze brush past your tip. You yelp in surprise as your lips break off of his, causing him to promptly stop as well. Your eyes dart down to find he's already pulled your half-erect cock out of your pants, his hand wrapping a fist around your base. You snap your gaze back to his flushed face, a hint of eagerness in those eyes you used to despise but now desire to drink you in.

"Don't wanna?" He breathes, already loosening his grip on your cock. You instantly reach down to keep his grip there, manually making him re-tighten his grip. There's a newfound spark in his eyes, and the speed in which he suddenly starts stroking your cock gives you an immediate whiplash.

His lips meet yours again, the same hunger and fervor mixed with a heightened passion combined with the unrelenting pace in which he jerks you off, you swear your head is about to burst. The chair underneath you creaks so loudly you think it's about to crumble, but you hardly care when he's pleasuring you so fucking well.

Breathy moans escape from your mouth as Gojo drinks it all up, capturing them into his own mouth as he whimpers himself. He's fisting your cock like he wants to tear it off and you feel like it really is gonna fall off if you're not careful enough.

The air in the otherwise empty office has become heated, the serenity broken by both of your moans and the aggressive creak of your chair. You feel your cock twitch at the impending orgasm, and he definitely feels it as well because he starts chuckling into your heated make out session.

"Feels soooooo good, doesn't it?" He purrs, almost teasingly but there's no denying the underlying desire in his tone. You nod fervently as you start to thrash in your chair, and Gojo brings his other hand up to pin you down by the shoulder to ensure you can't get anywhere.

With a sudden cry, you jerk up repeatedly into his fist as hot cum spurt out of your tip, getting everywhere on his suit and hand. He doesn't really care though, because this might be the hottest thing he's seen all week. Gojo slows down his stroking before eventually stopping, just holding it firmly before his thumb moves to gently rub your sensitive head, smearing the cum over it. That action overstimulates you and you start whimpering, eyes rolling back at the slight pain it brings you.

"Such a mess." He murmurs, gazing almost lovingly at you. Slowly, he releases your cock as you let out a gasp, acting like you just ran a whole marathon. He brings the very same hand up to his lips as he starts to lick it clean, his tongue caressing through every crevice, trying to make sure he tastes every single last drop. You watch in a daze, watching the man you were despising toward not even three hours ago now licking your sperm off of his hand. He's the reason you even came.

God.

Gojo sucked on his index finger, making direct eye contact with you. He then releases it with a salacious 'pop!', bringing his head down again and kisses you. You taste the slight tang of your own release on his tongue and fuck, you think your dick is rising again.

"Do you still hate me?" He breathes into your mouth. You'd glare if you can, but you seriously can't bring yourself to. Your body is spent as hell.

Reluctantly, you shake your head and he smiles widely. Gojo Satoru got what he wanted, once again.

"Finally." He kisses you again. "Come home with me. Fuck your work, I'll talk to the boss for you tomorrow. I wanna fuck you."

You shouldn't. Damn, this goes against everything you believe in.

"I have a memory foam mattress. Silky blankets. And also really, really soft pillows."

...he sure knows how to tempt you. Fucking Gojo.

With a defeated sigh, you gently rub your cheek, hoping the red would go away.

"Okay."

[aggieharkness]

Forever and Always

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: No one warns you about how dark the abyss at the cliff's edge can be, how hard it would be to hold on to the rocks as they kept falling around you, the weight on your shoulders nearly too much for you. No one ever does, yet she never failed at saving you from dying under it all, her warm embrace like a protection spell.

Warnings: overworked reader, burnt out, screaming, swearing, self-harm. I don't think I need to add anything else here.

Authors note: I read your post @madamspellmans-met-tet and I thought of writing this. I hope that it is what you had in mind and that it helps your friend find comfort :) If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, I wouldn't want to write something hurtful. I hope you like it.

Forever and Always

Rereading the message that had popped up on your phone you just couldn’t believe it. The bright light shone inside the cabin of Lilia’s old car, which she allowed you to borrow so you could get to work and your classes, your eyes going over the words three times before you let your head fall onto the steering wheel nearly making the horn go off. You could feel the tension increasing in every single muscle of your body, the pressure that had been inside your sinuses and the dull nausea that you had carried all day suddenly feeling as if they could wipe you out, frustration filling up every cell down to atomic levels, but you just couldn’t let it pass, it had to be finished tonight, no matter what. Unlocking your phone, you answered Amanda and told her that it was fine, that you could finish her part of the project and send it before twelve tomorrow, but in your mind you were cursing her and her ancestors and her ancestors’ ancestors and beyond. You knew she wasn’t sick, a friend you had in common had told you that she was going down to a party in New York and she would stay there for like three days or so. You could have told her to go and fuck herself but she hadn’t done shit in the past month, and the project needed to be handed out the next day, so you had to stay up all night now, maybe even beg your teacher to let you hand in the assignment one day late and pray that he didn’t deduct points because of it. And on top of that you had to do a double shift down at the coffee shop tomorrow because one of the girls had to have emergency surgery after a skiing accident and you were even more short staffed.

Your fingers were twitching when you picked up your bag from the passenger’s seat, throwing it over your shoulder as you pushed the door open and stepped out into the cold night, your breath steaming up in puffs that twirled up in the air as you locked the car. Your body ached, every bone seemed to hurt, and your throat itched so bad that you had had like three gulps of cough syrups and at least one Tylenol about six hours ago to try and get rid of it, to no avail. Resting your back against the car you closed your eyes for a moment. You were not ready for the disappointed look that Lilia was going to give you the instant you stepped into the shop, but your manager had practically ordered you to lock up tonight and you had had to label also the new arrival of milks and cookies in the freezer, which turned the extra hour into two and a half. You had been supposed to get home at seven and it was now close to ten, and you had hardly been able to tell her that you were going to be late, just a single message that’s she had left on read. With a heavy sigh you crossed the street from the car to the front door, pulling out your keys and pushing the glass open until the warmth of the heating system embraced you, but it didn’t relax you as much as you had expected, you still felt as if you were absolutely freezing. Noises were coming from the back, the clutter of dishes you thought, stopping for a moment when the bell that hung from the ceiling rung melodiously before they returned, unbothered by your entrance it seemed.

In normal circumstances you would have thrown your bag next to the door, not giving two shits, but you needed the books and notes that you had in there, so with heavy steps you made your way to the beady curtain, gently moving it aside, finally arriving home. Lilia was washing the dishes, her back to you. Seeing her body moving as she scrubbed hard, her shoulders square and obviously tense as she worked you wondered if maybe she was mad at you, but there wasn’t really anything you could do when you had to stay late, it was that or unemployment, and you needed the money to pay for college, so there really was no reason why she should be angry. At least you had bothered to warn her this time. But even if she was pissed at you she was far too alluring, and your eyes could not stop watching the way those veiny hands held onto the sponge and plate hard, knuckles nearly white, the way her gown held onto her curves gently as her robe had been discarded over the back of a chair, the flowy material swaying around her bare feet as she rinsed and left the plate on the drying rack. In the air a salty smell lingered, your stomach rumbling at it but the nausea that was still clinging to your insides seeming to disagree with how hungry you felt, the thought of food both appealing and at the same time a horrible idea, though your train of thought derailed when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, the quiet moment you were having shattered. Fucking Amanda again you saw, a new text telling you that she was very sorry and that she would make it up to you which you knew was bullshit, followed by a new message saying that Tom, another person you were doing this assignment with, could not finish his part either as he was sick with the same thing she had. Was that code for I’m taking him to New York to fuck him? She had to be kidding.

You were quick to respond, eyebrows furrowed as you typed an answer, telling her that you weren’t sure if you could handle it all, but she retorted that Tom would end up in the hospital if he did any work. Was she for real? Did she think you lived under a fucking rock or something, that you didn’t talk to people? Apparently so, because she finished by saying that she was going to be sick from all that talking and went offline. You hadn’t noticed how Lilia had turned around and was staring at you, drying her hands with a tea towel, the frown that had adorned her forehead turning into worry when she saw your pissed off face as you furiously typed. She hadn’t noticed how pale you were looking, or how deep the bags under your eyes were, but then again you applied so much make up in the morning that it was nearly impossible for her to have noticed when she woke up, perhaps five minutes before you were due to leave for work. She had seen you sick several times in all the time you had been together, but she had never seen you look so run down before, and that worried her. The frustration you were feeling was reaching a breaking point, but you could not afford a bad mark to taint your record, you needed to be a straight A student otherwise you would not get scholarships to investigate, just like you had always dreamt of, you had to push through. You would rest when all this was over, you thought, a little white lie that you had been telling yourself for years now.

Dumping your bag on the kitchen table you hadn’t even looked up to meet Lilia’s eyes, you were far too focused on getting the work done before you collapsed, pulling out several thick books you had borrowed from the library along with the close to four hundred pages worth of notes you had been taking since the beginning of the year, photocopies, schemes and drawings included. Lilia had not moved from her spot, not even an inch, her head following your frame as you headed for the drawers next to the TV and pulled out an old laptop you had been gifted like three years ago, turning back to the table only to lock eyes with her. She looked so beautiful tonight, why did she look so pretty? It wasn’t your anniversary or her birthday, maybe it wasn’t a special occasion, maybe she looked like that always and you had only noticed now, after not having properly looked at her in over a week. There was pang of guilt in your heart, but you couldn’t waste more time, and yet breaking her gaze was such a hard task, she seemed to be pulling you into her arms simply by raising her eyebrows ever so slightly, almost in a questioning manner, but you looked away and sat down. You were actively avoiding talking to her? She felt as if you were pushing her aside, away from you with this behaviour, hurt and anger mingling in her chest, fury glazing her vision as she bent to open the oven. It took the computer a few minutes to unlock, but once the wallpaper and icons were staring back at you, a picture of you and Lilia during a weekend trip to the Grand Canyon, you quickly clicked on the Word document titled “Ontogeny in Ammonoids”, the twenty pages you had written greeting you.

You loved your degree, but you hated it at the same time, scrolling through the pictures and diagrams you had both taken from books and done yourself with the information collected and provided by your teacher. You had loved it when you had first started it, but now you had to add at least twenty more pages, and you didn’t even know where to begin, your head resting on your hands for an instant, closing your eyes as you felt a heavy headache forming. What were you supposed to write? God, you had no fucking clue what their parts were, it was as if your brain had turned to sudden mush and you could not even comprehend a basic sentence, let alone carry on with this bloody project. Suddenly there was a loud bang right next to the computer, your head jerking up so fast that a whipping feeling hit your neck, rendering you immobile for a few moments, eyes looking at an oven tray that had landed on top of your notes, the dark sauce of a rotisserie chicken splattered over the words, staining and making some of the ink run.

-Lilia! What the hell?! – you pushed the tray hurriedly to the side, inspecting the damage done as anger rose in your veins. Looking up briefly at her you saw an angry smirk on her lips, hands on her hips. So now she wanted to be a bitch, great, as if you needed more people testing your patience.

-Oh, you are home, I didn’t see you there.

-What the fuck?!

-Don’t curse at me Y/N!

-What the hell do you expect when you’ve ruined my notes?!

-I expect you to look at me when you come home, for you to give me an explanation as to why you its ten and you’ve just only arrived!

-I can’t say no to my manager Lilia, you know this! – some of the words were unintelligible, impossible to fix unless you redid the entire page, front and back, anger spiking to the point that you feared anything at all could make it burst. And to top it all you were wasting time! You had deadlines and you need to be at the coffee shop at seven! You were going to have to pull an all-nighter– Fuck, I’m going to have to redo this.

-As if you do anything else.

You glared up at her, but the anger subsided when suddenly you had a coughing fit, turning your face away from her and covering your mouth with your hand. Lilia had turned around at the speed of light upon hearing you, bending her body over the kitchen table to check on you, worry painting her features. All the fight had left your body after that, the exhaustion slamming onto your body without mercy, as you let it fall back onto the chair. Lilia was still upset with you, but after what she had just seen it was obvious that you weren’t just tired, no, you were getting sick, and yet you turned your attention back to the computer, sighing deeply when you looked at your notes and then back at the screen. She felt quite guilty about what she had done, thinking that perhaps it had been rather childish form her part, so in an attempt to fix it she moved the tray away to plate some of the chicken along with the sauce, putting it aside while she went to grab a glass of water, adding a bit of lemon and a hint of honey, a little remedy she had been using for centuries now. Once that was done, she turned and rounded one of the corners of the table to sit on the only chair that laid facing you, but your eyes were glued to the screen, typing and then deleting only to type again, and you still didn’t like what you were writing. The touch of Lilia’s soft skin on your hand made you pause, turning your blurry eyes in her direction. Maybe you had been rude, but you had spent a lot of time working on those notes, rewriting them would take a couple of hours for sure.

-Tell me the truth Y/N, are you okay?

-I’m fine, I’m just tired.

-I’ve seen you tired, and you are never like this.

-I’m sorry, but what you did was really shitty.

-I know, I’m sorry. I was angry; you’ve never come home like this, without even saying a word. Maybe you need to stop and sleep.

-I would love to, but I can’t. Amanda and Tom bailed on me, and we have to upload this to the net tomorrow and there’s so much work left.

-Can’t you talk with your teacher, get an extension?

-He’s an ass, he won’t do it, he doesn’t care. I just need to finish this, Lilia. I promise I’ll rest when I’m done.

-I’m giving you one hour, if you are not done in an hour, I’m sorry, but you are not finishing it, I’m dragging you to bed.

-Fine. Just… let me get on with it.

-Alright. You have dinner behind your computer, and don’t tell me that you are not hungry because I know that you haven’t had a bite to eat since lunch time, if you’ve had lunch. Just eat, okay?

You nodded without much effort, knowing perfectly well that you were not really going to have much of the chicken, but you did grab the water, the warm liquid soothing your sore throat slightly. Lilia could feel the way you were melting, the way your resolution was slipping, but she also knew that you were not going to really stop, you were unable to, she had to let you get to a certain point, she just hoped that she didn’t accidentally let you go past said point. With a quiet sigh she stood and kissed your forehead, heading back to tidy the dishes and clean the sink as you poured yourself back into the assignment. Word after word you seemed to be filling up pages, adding pictures and moving in between the text and the references, but your body was giving up on you. You could feel the way your fingers were heavy over the keyboard, how your eyesight was becoming blurry, the paragraphs you had written dancing before you, coughing every few minutes into the crook of your elbow and yet you did not stop, you couldn’t stop. Lilia’s alarms were going off every time she heard you, but she had promised you an hour, though it was becoming harder and harder to keep her promise when her eyes could see from her spot on the couch how you were getting progressively worse, to the point that half of your precious notes had slipped down to the floor and you hadn’t even noticed.

She should have stopped you then, a mistake from her part, she had simply thought it a slip up, but when she heard you curse under your breath and beginning to delete like a maniac, a frustrated huff escaping your lips before you banged your head on the kitchen table, she knew she had stop you right away.  It had not even been thirty minutes, but she just couldn’t let you carry on, pushing herself off the couch and walking towards your spot with quick steps. The wood dug onto your forehead, but you didn’t care about it much, not when you had spent three whole pages writing about the wrong group of cephalopods and your whole head throbbed as your headache worsened, a pulsating feeling behind your eyes that increased the pressure on your sinuses as well. You felt like utter shit, actually that might not even cover it, your face squashed against the table, your arms hanging from your sides like ropes that seemed to weight as if they were lead, so heavy that you just couldn’t lift them back onto the table. Sitting once again on the chair that was facing you, Lilia took your face in between her hands and pushed you up until you were resting against the back of the chair, cradling your cheeks, noticing that your eyes were glassy, your face slightly clammy to the touch, cheeks blushing but it wasn’t due to something cheeky she had said, no, Lilia could feel how hot your skin felt against her palm. That’s it, she thought.

-You are done, darling. – her voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, but it boomed against the bones of your skull.

-What? No, I still have at least six other points that I need to address.

-I don’t care Y/N. You are sick, you need to sleep.

-No, I don’t! – you pushed her touch from you, missing the coolness of her hands against your skin the instant they left you even though they were still holding onto your hands, fingers intertwined, but you needed to carry on. She had said an hour, and it had only been twenty minutes, you could push through, you could do it. – I need to get this done or I will fail.

-Then fail.

-What? – there was the anger again, rising and bubbling inside your chest as you pushed her hands off your body completely, sitting properly back in front of the computer while still looking at Lilia utterly dumbfounded at her words. - You know how important this is for me!

-Yes, but I’m not going to let it practically kill you!

-Wow, that’s just being overdramatic, don’t you think?

-Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?! You are two seconds away from collapsing on me Y/N!

-I’m perfectly fine, I’m just tired! Honestly, I make a mistake and get frustrated and suddenly I’m an instant away from laying in a coffin?!

-If you don’t stop you might! Just leave it, it’s not that important Y/N.

-It might not be to you! Can’t you understand that if I finish this and I get an A I will have a perfect record?! I will get scholarships and job offers!

-So some job in a boring office is more important than your health?!

-Don’t act so surprised, as if you didn’t know that I’ve done it before. I will rest when I’m done, so please Lilia, let me finish the fucking thing!

-Don’t curse Y/N. And no, you are very much done. – without warning she closed up the laptop and grabbed it, your hands far too slow to hold on to it before she could actually remove it from the table, the thick book you had resting next to it closing with a loud thud. She had stood and moved away from the kitchen area into the living room, rounding the couch and muttering something under her breath so that an instant later two thick yellow chains appeared wrapping themselves around the computer, letting it rest on top of the coffee table. She had to be fucking kidding; you thought she would understand! Lifting yourself from the chair had been a harder task than you had anticipated, the world around you faintly, but you still stood on slightly shaky legs and headed her way, fury seeping from every pore in your body as you knelt over the carpet.

-Don’t play with me Lilia! Open it!

-No. I don’t like using my magic like this, but if it’s the only way to get you stop, I will.

-DON’T DO THIS TO ME LILIA! OPEN IT!

-Don’t scream at me! I won’t tolerate it! I’m doing this for your own good.

-Please Lilia, I need to finish this, please!

-I’m sorry, I can’t.

-You are such a bitch!

-Excuse me?!

-You heard me! You are being a bitch! – the temperature in the room was absolutely scorching, your jacket coming off, your hands throwing it onto the couch without you even noticing, as if your movements were on autopilot, nails trying to pry the laptop open, but it didn’t do any good, it was perfectly shut. In anger you turned your head to look at her, tears stinging your eyes. - What do you want?! All my attention, that’s why you are trying to ruin my life?!

-NO! Can’t you see what all this is doing to you?! I want you to stop killing yourself! You don’t deserve it Y/N.

-I’m doing what I’ve always done, Lilia, I can’t afford a slip up like this!

-And I can’t let you carry on. You need to stop, you are sick, you’ve overworked yourself so much that you’ve made yourself sick. Why can’t you understand that?

-Why can’t YOU understand that if I can’t stop! I’ve never stopped, I don’t know how to!

The tears were running down your cheeks now, burning your skin as if they were molten lava, leaving streaks on your clammy flesh as they fell drop by drop onto your lap, your hands letting go of the laptop in defeat as your body dropped onto the carpet, back resting on the couch. How did one stop, how could anyone stop what they’ve only known for their entire life? You had never done anything but work and study, you had never simply sat down to do nothing for whole weeks at a time, there was always some shift at the coffee shop, some assignment, some presentation that needed to be done for the next day. You only knew how to work yourself down to the bone and beyond and you knew that it was reaching a breaking point, but you just didn’t know what to do. Lilia saw you crumbling in front of her eyes, rushing and kneeling next to you to gather your shaking frame in her arms, swaying back and forth in a soothing motion. She had expected this to happen since she had seen you come in, and yet she felt so unprepared, unsure of what to say but if there was one thing she was sure about was that you needed her, and she would be there. Her eyes were looking at nothing, zoned out as every fibre of her being concentrated on you and the way your tears soaked her dress, your face pressed against her chest.

She might have been rude, cruel even, but you needed to hear it, needed to realise just how fucked up it was for people to overwork you like this, until you were so burnt out that you couldn’t even keep your immune system healthy and strong. You could not help being like this, doing the only thing you knew, but that didn’t mean Lilia could not help you see beyond, after all that was her thing as a divination witch. Looking down at you she could not help noticing some purple marks that painted the skin of your forearms, squinting to try and get a better look, distinguishing the blistered skin and burnt flesh surrounding each circular mark. They didn’t seem to be fresh, as if they had happened today or the day before, but they were certainly not old wounds. Carefully she pushed you away from her body, your eyes blinking through the tears in confusion, feeling how she took your wrist gently with one hand and pushed your sleeve up so she could take a better look. Oh, crap, you had totally forgotten about them.

-Y/N? – you turned your head towards the floor, unable to hold her gaze, those deep eyes watching you with worry, but she took hold of your chin and tenderly lifted your head. – What happened?

-I swear I didn’t do it on purpose… the first time. – you felt so ashamed about it all, how had you let your life become this… this sea of torment just to get the life you thought you were supposed to have. This wasn’t the way to do it, it couldn’t be. Your hand had travelled up to your mouth out of its on accord, the nail of your thumb in between your teeth as if the motion could make you feel less of the embarrassment that was coursing through your limbs. – I was at the shop, and I bumped into Jerry out in the terrace and his cigarette hit my arm. It was an accident but then… I bought a packet and… did it myself.

-You’ve been hurting yourself? Why?

-I… I’m not sure. When Jerry’s cigarette hit my skin, I felt… something and…

-And what?

-The pain somehow helped me push through, carry on with everything. I wanted that. I needed it.

-Darling.

-I know what you are going to say. I should have been more careful; I shouldn’t have continued.

-No, love, you should have asked for help.

-Help?

-All this is too much for you, you can’t do it all, you are only human.  – it was so tenderly the way she cradled your face in her hands again, her fingers twirling your hair in between them as her thumbs wiped the tears that were still falling. -You can’t hurt yourself so that the adrenaline helps you carry on. You can’t hide the exhaustion and the frustration behind a veil of pain Y/N.

-How do I stop Lilia?

-By saying no. People take advantage of you, they think that since you are efficient, they can simply tell you to do it all, but you can’t let them do that. Learning how to say no will help you in the long run, trust me.

-So, I simply fail?

-You tell your teacher what happened and if he doesn’t like it, I will personally talk with him and request an extension. But it won’t be tomorrow; I was not kidding when I said that you were sick, you are running a temperature, darling. You are closing your books for today and going to sleep.

-And work? I have a double shift tomorrow.

-You’ve got sick days, use them. Let me carry what you can’t, Y/N.

She always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel like the world wasn’t crushing you under its weight when you very much felt as if it were, and with your hands holding onto the neckline of her gown you pushed yourself against her chest to hide your tears back into the warmth of her soft bosom. You had wanted nothing more than to cross the threshold of the beady curtain and let your exhausted body fall into her embrace, the silence of the room broken only by her sweet words, whispered lovingly in your ear as you both fell on the couch, the coolness of her skin comforting the tears that had gathered in your eyes. Those same tears that you were now crying as you let your walls crumble around you. Lilia wrapped her arms around your form, letting you break, fall apart. You had been holding on for far too long, you had been dangling from the top of a building with only on finger to keep you there for years now, you had to let yourself fall, you had to let your body step away from all that was destroying you and simply feel gravity pulling you down onto the ground, because once you reached it there would be no blood, no bones breaking over the pavement, only the soft gentle touch of Lilia keeping you safe and nestle in her arms. Both of you swayed back and forth on the floor, the carpet digging on Lilia’s knees, but she would not move, not until you were ready, and by the way you were holding onto her it would be a long time before she would part from you. With a kiss to the top of your head she pressed her cheek to your soft locks, her fingers rubbing your back and drawing lazy patterns over your t-shirt.

-Promise me one thing Y/N.

-What? – your voice was muffled by her chest, the vibrations reverberating through her body, but she still understood you, a small smile painting her lips for a moment.

-You will never hurt yourself again.

-I promise.

-And please, if you need help, if you need me, tell me. I’m always here for you, darling. Always.

[eunandonly]

why’d you only call me when you’re high? ( 이희승 )

you keep telling yourself you’re done with heeseung and his late night calls, but the door’s still unlocked. it’s the same cycle: him showing up, you giving in, and both pretending it means something.

pairing: heeseung x fem. reader [ masterlist ]

warnings: toxicity, alcohol mentions, drug mentions (weed), heeseung is high, heeseung is an asshole, kissing, skinship, angst, reader is lowkey kind of dumb

word count: 1.3k

🖇️ : a bit different than the stuff i usually post but yeah

you stare down at the message on your phone, the screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your living room. the words blur slightly, not because you're crying- no, you're well past that- but your tired eyes can't believe this is happening again.

heeseung: you up?

three words. simple and deliberate. always arriving at the same time. they're heeseung's signature, a routine written into your life against your will. you don't need to ask why he's texting you now, hours past midnight when everyone is asleep and the streets empty and bare. the answer is always the same. he's either drunk, high, or both. and he wants you to be the soft landing he definitely doesn't deserve.

your fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant and unsure. it always goes like this. you know fully well that if you reply, you'll end up letting him step into your home in hopes of something. and you know fully well that when you wake up tomorrow morning, he'll be long gone. bed empty, leaving you to piece together the wreckage he never stays long enough to clean.

your phone vibrates suddenly in your hand, heeseung's number popping up on the screen. he's calling you, and all you can do is stare at the green and red buttons in surprise. it only occurs to you know that you still haven't deleted his contact after countless times of telling yourself you would.

you don't even know why you're surprised that he’s calling. when the liquor burns and the smoke clouds his mind, you're the only number heeseung remembers.

with trembling fingers, you click the green button. you click the green button even though you know you'll regret it later. you click the green button just like you did a hundred times before because as much as you hate to admit it, you can never ignore him.

you never learn, do you?

"y/n," heeseung's voice says from the phone, and you lean back on the sofa, holding your breath. his words are slurred and delayed, his speech fragmented and disjointed. "can i come over?"

you let out the breath you've been holding and grip the phone tighter in your hand. "heeseung... are you- are you high?"

there's a pause before heeseung speaks again. perhaps he's taking a drag from his joint. chugging down some liquor. "no, no, i'm not. i swear i'm not. i swear."

"you are," you say, dragging a hand down your face. you shouldn't have picked up. you shouldn't have. you should've let it ring out, or even better, decline it. delete his contact for real this time. but you still answered, foolishly hoping that things will be different this time. that he'll be different this time.

it always comes down to hope with you, doesn't it?

"i miss you," heeseung drawls. "i want you so bad, baby."

you squeeze your eyes shut, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind. he doesn't want you, not really- only the fleeting comfort you offer when he's high and hollow.

"the door's unlocked."

***

it was a mistake to invite him.

you should lock the door. turn off your phone, climb into bed, and let heeseung knock until his knuckles bruise blue and purple. but you don't. instead, you stand there, in front of the empty door, waiting for the sound of his unsteady footsteps climbing up the stairs. the familiar click of the door opening. heeseung still knows the password to your home, and even though you know you should change it, you never do. you blame it on forgetfulness and laziness and come up with all sorts of excuses to calm down the erratic thoughts in your brain. gaslighting yourself that there really is no bigger reason as to why the set of numbers still remain untouched.

but no matter how many times you try to deny it, you know fully well what the reason is.

when the door opens, you take a step back as you stare. heeseung's hair is messy, his shirt wrinkled and his eyes glassy with desperation your naive self had once thought could fix. his lips twitch into a soft of half smile when he sees you.

"y/n," he says, kicking off his shoes and walking over to you like he owns the place. he towers over you, smiling down at you with a strange, twisted expression you can't really comprehend. you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed from him, a confirmation you didn't really need. you knew from the message. you knew.

before you can say a word, heeseung steps forward and pushes you against the wall, hands on your waist, firm and unrelenting, and the dull thud of your head meeting the surface that only seems to surprise you. you barely have the time to register the discomfort before his lips crash onto yours. messy, almost desperate, and the taste of alcohol and smoke floods your senses, bitter and suffocating.

you know you should push him away- your mind screams it over and over. but your body betrays you, frozen in place. his lips press harder against yours as if he's trying to erase the memories he left last time, and you let him. you let him because, for a fleeting moment, the weight of your loneliness feels lighter.

your hands hover uncertainly over his shoulders, slightly shaking. you don't want to pull him closer, but you can't seem to let go either. when your fingers finally make contact with the warmth of his skin, it's tentative, almost apologetic. you grip tightens as you kiss him back, as if holding him will keep him from slipping away again. but deep down, you know it won't. you know how this ends.

but ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

you pull away for a few seconds to look at heeseung's eyes, bloodshot and glazed over.

"why do you keep doing this, hee?"

hee. you don't try to mask the way the nickname slipped out of your mouth like second nature. heeseung's probably noticed it too. you can tell, from the way the corners of his lips quirk up.

he doesn't answer right away. he kisses your lips again, one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your head.

"because you let me."

the words feel like a punch to the gut, but you don't flinch. he's not wrong. he's never been wrong about that.

you should kick him out. lock the door. delete his number.

but tonight, you'll let him stay. just one more time.

[yzur02]

Why am I anxious (Tom Cardy)

Tim: I just woke up, should I drink water and stretch? (No, no)

I'm gonna drink three cups of coffee

And smoke a cigarette instead

And then I'll go on social media until it's dinner time

Yeah, smoke some weed and then I binge-eat

Then I got a little time to complain online

I'm anxious

Why is God doing this to me?

Steph: Ooh, it's a mystery, what could it be?

Jason: Possibly it's all your apathy

Tim: Why am I anxious?

I would try to do anything

To make my life feel better

Except anything that makes my life feel better

Hey baby, I'm self-aware!

I got that Headspace app, because I care

Jason: All the talk in the world don't mean shit

Damian: If just like this guy, you're a hypocrite

Tim: Who are you calling hypocrite? I'm a fucking martyr

I've given up sugar and no milk products either

Still feel anxious, it's just not fair for someone like me

So self-aware

Dick: You're not self-aware

Cass: You're a big dumb fuck

Duke: With a dumb fuck face

Harper: And now you're outta luck

Tim: If you're so smart, why am I sad?

Bruce: Because twice a week you get on the bags

Tim: Well, maybe it's that

Everyone: It's definitely that

Do I need more hugs?

Corrie: Stop taking drugs

Tim: I guess we'll never know for sure

Corrie: Yes we will motherfucker, it's because-

Tim: Why am I anxious?

Damian, with a timer: You only sleep four hours a night

Tim: Aah, why am I anxious?

Alfred, showing Tim's half eaten dinner: You never ever eat right

Tim: Aah, that was rhetorical

Babs: Then why did you post a photo of yourself

Without a shirt on and a caption

Can anybody tell me

Tim: Why am I anxious?

Why is God doing this to me?

Even though I ask, I don't want to know

I want to get better, but slow

Why am I anxious?

I know what's good for me

Except everything

Oh, I think that could be it

☆Anxious☆

[marauding-almond]

I have been absolutely OBSESSED with the thought of kiwi Remus recently because it works so well and i cannot get it out of my head, so here are a bunch of headcannons (pre-Hogwarts - I'll do Hogwarts and post-Hogwarts in seperate posts because it'll get too long otherwise)

Lyall and Hope met in London, Lyall was Welsh and Hope was kiwi

Hope gets pregnant and Lyall doesn't want to be a father, so they break up

Hope goes back to New Zealand and Remus is born there

Remus grows up in a small town in the South Island, I'm thinking Dunedin, or perhaps Wānaka (mayyybe Invercargill)

He grows up with his mom in a small house on a hill looking out to the water, a little on the outskirts of the town

Remus is still a werewolf; he gets bitten by an rogue werewolf on night when he's around three or four, but Hope manages to deal with it

She locks him in the back shed for the full moons, but as soon as dawn awakes, she's there with bandages and chocolate fish and hugs

It's hard, especially the first one, but they manage it, and Hope makes sure that Remus knows he's not a monster and still very loved

And the worst that happens the neighbours occasionally mention the wolf howls once or twice

Their neighbours, a middle-aged couple with no children, love them, especially Remus

They always give him a slice of cake when he comes round, and Hope a basket of cherries or something

They have a few sheep, and Remus loves going there and helping with the lambs, running with them in the paddock

He's a classic kiwi kid, spends almost all of his time outside, climbing trees and running barefoot, large rimmed hats, shorts all year round, constantly kicking off his shoes, always a bit of a burn on his cheeks because he's always forgetting to put on sunscreen (despite his mum's best efforts)

He takes the bus every morning to get to the local school

The school's only got a couple dozen kids, but the teachers are nice and Remus likes it, he loves learning, loves reading, especially

He's a quiet kid, doesn't have that many friends, but he's happy to just climb up a tree and sit there with a book

Hope is a bit of a hippie, and she goes round a lot of protests for Māori rights, queer rights, etc

The locals don't love it (it's the 60s), but she just rolls with it

She makes sure to teach Remus fragments of Māori, as much as she knows, which isn't much, but it's something

She can also see that her son's queer, even before he tells her, and makes sure to let him know that queer people are perfectly fine, and that she loves him

She struggles a bit financially, working at the local dairy and not earning all that much, but she grows a veggie garden and makes it work

And every summer, she makes sure to take at least two weeks off work and the two of them go off in their dingy caravan, put the Beatles on the radio, drive for a while and settle in some place to camp

They go walking and swimming and just enjoy nature for two weeks, every summer

Remus absolutely loves it, he'll go swimming every day, even if it's cold and raining

Hope also passes on to Remus her love of birds, teaching his all the native one's names, in English and Māori, as well as he love for baking, spending hours in the kitchen together making cakes and muffins and biscuits

And Remus is very happy and Hope is very happy

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

ok ok 2k25 goals intentions etc.:

daily, success threshold met at 183 days: journal, meditate, log my little habits and other countables, work out, drink 100 ounces of water, experience art, do some kind of mobility work even just a little bit of moving my butt on the foam roller, digital tidying of any kind, floss, write or work on a piece of writing even if it's not ready for writing (ykwim), no Scrolling before 10 p.m. (Intentional Posting such as this doesn't count) room re-set (a habit i had in 2023 decided i didn't need in 2024 and hugely missed once i had buried myself in a horrible pile i did not feel capable of tackling for like three months); 10k steps average for the year by 11:59 p.m. on december 31st

weekly: 5 Life Tasks Of Some Kind; try out weekly self-planning sessions although this is not a resolution because well what if i don't like it!

yearly: read 50 books; work about a thousand hours although this is not so much a "goal" as the result of me looking at my time tracking app and seeing if i can use this data to organize my life in a way that makes me feel less stressed about what is essentially my part-time job so i'm not gonna sweat the difference too much in either direction; i'm not gonna put my income goal on the internet but i do have one.

unquantified intentions: eat more vegetables/get to a place by the end of the year where i don't feel the need to resolve this again; be better about apartment tidiness maintenance tasks (an ounce of prevention...); be a more considerate and more proactive texter; keep working on showing up even when it's a little bit scary; i know i have writing as a daily goal but i'm also gonna say that an intention is to get to the end of the year feeling like i have a sense of how writing fits into my life as a regular practice instead of my historical feast or famine approach (which, to be clear, i don't think i'm ever going to be a nice normal Write Exactly 90 Minutes A Day gal.... so mostly i'm talking about avoiding the famines); keep jukeboxing; keep listening to new (generally and also to me) music; get back into/better at tarot

vibe: one other thing that came up when i was reflecting on 2024 was how much fucking time and mental energy i poured into being Totally Insane about how repulsive i am in many dimensions... this is not anything remotely new but i'm deciding now that i am over it and thus determining by executive decision that actually i am a hot fun genius and everybody awesome wants to be my friend.

[mimi-saurio]

ST Childhood AU: A take on that night where Nancy played D&D with the party. It's been a long time since I drew to make a comic, but so far I love to ink somehow I got relaxed while doing it! I have a few other ideas for comics, not only for ST, but I think I can handle another one if I can get to write them down on a script one of these days. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one! <3 And remember, I recently opened a Ko-Fi so if you enjoy my fan-arts and stuff you can support me or ask for a commission!

Lastly, sorry if the grammar has mistakes, I'm really rusty with my English D,: Original Idea / Ch.2 >

[mwagneto]

why is everyone suddenly jackdoctor posting. like i'm not complaining i've just been indescribably sick over that entire storyline for years so it's funny to see it picking up steam again

[give-grian-rights]

can someone tell me why im being abnormal about a character i've barely touched the content of. like yay yippie i watched like 20 hours of you. there's fucking 80 years of content get me OUT OF HERE?

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[disposal-blueeee]

really really small guys

edgar belongs to jhonen vasquez

scriabin belongs to @zarla-s

png ver. for some reason

andddd the sketch. for some reason too

[araneitela]

I'm sorry, but why did no one tell me that we caught a glimpse of the "Stellaron Hunters" in Acheron's trailer that dropped 17 hours ago?

[velmashaircut]

One Punch Man characters who I think are similar to Genshin/ Honkai Star Rail characters (includes spoilers)

Starting with Drive Knight, I think he has quite a few similarities with Luocha and Dottore. Initially I was going to pair Luocha with Flashy Flash since they look similar and both wield swords, and I wanted to pair Metal Knight with Dottore, but I changed my mind.

For Luocha, the most obvious similarities he shares with Drive Knight that they both haul large, impractical objects with them whether they go; Drive Knight for his tactical transformations and Luocha carries a massive coffin for…delivery reasons?

They’re also very suspicious characters whose goals and allegiance are not obvious, Luocha has cleared up a bit but most of it is still up in the air. You could say the two of them have many versions of themselves as well: Drive Knight can transform with his tactical gear, and Luocha has variant selves in others games and universes (Otto).

As for Dottore, he's also rather mysterious despite it being clear he is morally messed up. They both dabble in experiments and capture beings for research purposes. Drive Knight does this so he can become stronger, which I think is linked to Dottore's reasonings, that is to elevate humans to the level of Gods. A case can also be made for whether or not they’re truly evil or just do things in the pursuit of strength of knowledge.

I would say Blast has the most resemblance to Capitano. Blast is the number one hero in the Hero Association, and Capitano is the number one Fatui Harbinger. Both are considered the strongest. Physically, both tower over their peers. Both are fighting for ‘greater’ causes against higher beings.

You could also say Blast is similar to Varka, personality wise they both seem rather relaxed but give off a powerful aura. They both also assist children in need (Tatsumaki for Blast, Razor and Rosaria for Varka) However, since Varka isn’t playable, and we haven't even got a face reveal, I went for Capitano instead.

Next is King who shares similarities with Bennett, Aventurine and Huo Huo. I think the first two are rather self explanatory,

Like King, for an unknown reason, Bennett has bad luck which is never bad enough for him to killed or graciously injured, and even sometimes works out in his favour. Even though King is always lucky enough to not be harmed, he is unfortunate enough to be constantly running into monsters against his will in the first place.

For Aventurine, both characters are associated with the number seven (it being King’s hero rank and Aventurine follow up attack requiring seven hits to activate). Aventurine’s absurd good luck also unwillingly comes with misfortunes of others, which you can argue also applies to King to a certain degree: he unintentionally takes credits for other heroes works, mainly Saitama’s, which leads to Saitama being seen as an inadequate hero to some. Sometimes people have to be hurt so King is spared.

For Huo Huo, both are stuck in careers that frighten them and cause much stress, but ultimately, both rise to the occasion and face their fears when it matters.

Amai Mask is also similar to quite a few characters, I don't want to list too many so I'm keeping it short.

Starting with the most simple similarity; both Robin and Amai Mask are famous and adored singers in their respective universes with cult followings.

Moving on to Furina, Amai and Furina are both performers, Furina primarily in theatre performances and Amai in shows/ movies. They also are forced to put on a façade that hides their true selves; Furina pretends to be a spoilt, and overdramatic Archon in order to protect Fontaine when in reality she's the complete opposite, Amai Mask acts like a vainglorious prick focused on fame and money but possesses a heroic soul he conceals to pull funding and support for the HA. (I think, its been a while)

Both are one of the few characters in their own media to have canon alternative looks: Furina with her Ousia and Pneuma forms which changes her hair and the colour of her clothes, Amai Mask with his changing hair cuts and colours, and his true monster form. It's said his physical features also change every few years and although the people in OPM chalk it up to plastic surgery, its just his shapeshifting abilities.

For Ayato, appearance wise, he’s similar to Amai with the blue hair and pretty boy look. Both are also some of the most stylish characters in their respective media's in my opinion. In addition, both possess influence in their respective circles: Amai excerices control over who joins the S Class and has power in the HA, Ayato has major political power and controls a secret ninja gang. Both are merciless and possess hidden strength; Amai Mask destroys anything he deems monster like, and Ayato disfigures assassins beyond comprehension, and literally runs a secret ninja gang to collect information across Tevyet.

Writing this, I realise Amai has some similarity with Argenti with their desire to wipe out anything they deem grotesque, but I've saved Argenti for someone else later on so I won't say anymore.

This may be odd but hear me out: Zombieman is a combination of Qiqi, Rosaria and Wriothesley. The most obvious being with Qiqi as they’re both zombies and thus are practically immortal.

For Rosaria, it was a toss up between her and Heizou as I don’t have enough space to pick both of them. Ultimately I went with Rosaria as she and Zombieman share an unnatural grey complexion. Both are also smokers and detectives, though that can describe Rosaria loosely. They are lone wolves who tend to stick out in their circles; Zombieman is technically a monster amongst heroes and Rosaria is only a nun in name and nothing more. They both conduct their own investigations for their own reasons, independent to who they work for.

Wriothesley was a last minute addition but I think Zombieman and Wriothesley are really similar. They also have soft spot for kids and are easygoing, but they both have a brutal side when pushed. I haven’t explained my reasoning well but the best way I can put it is like this: if you love Zombieman, chances are you will love Wriothelsey.

You could also say Zombeiman is similar to Collei due to sharing a past of being experimented on.

I had to swap the order for this as I think the HSR MC embodies both Saitama and Metal Bat. Although they don't have infinite strength like Saitama, the pair are distinct amongst their peers; Saitama broke his limiter and the MC has a stelleron inside them, granting them one of a kind strength and abilities. They both have a similar sense of humour, can be silly/lazy at times and both make funny facial expressions that are meme worthy. The MC and Saitama attract people rather easily and are often forced to tag along to help with other peoples problems. But you could just say that is a universal MC plight.

For Metal Bat, both he and the MC wield metal bats they use to smack people around with. Both are somewhat airheads at times as well. I thought I had more to say but it turns out I don't!

Finally we have Tank top master being similar to Itto and Argenti.

Both Tank Top Master and Itto run gangs that involve their ride or die hooligans buddies. They both just give off himbo energy which is why I paired them together. Another similarity is that they both get shown up repeatedly; Tatsumaki upstaged TTM and Kujou Sara bested Itto in a fight, both Itto and TTM decided they wanted to become stronger because of this.

Initially I was going to pair Argenti with Watchdog Man but I changed my mind as he is more similar to TTM. Both have ideologies they take to the extreme and swear grant them power; TTM with his tank tops and Argenti with his worship of the Aeon of beauty. Their crazed beliefs have both saved them from death; TTM's tank top resuscitated him, Argenti swears up and down that he see's Idrilla when he's on deaths doorstep and that somehow has repeatedly helped him overcome peril.

Personality wise, both are kind and chivalrous individuals that love to rave about their ideals and are always happy for people to join their cause.

I plan on making a second part to this post soon. I already know which characters I'll match Genos, Tatsumaki and Fubuki to and I have an idea for Sonic and Flashy Flash. If anyone has any recommendations or disagree with my picks let me know!

[moe-broey]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to articulate this on the fly like first thing in the morning, but. I think my ENTIRE body of work is This: Examining how family ties, bonds or lack thereof, the good and bad AND ugly, seep into every facet of who we are and how we come to interact with others. How sometimes, a family tie (or again, a Lack of one), will sometimes bleed into how you act and treat specific people. Will bleed into how you CONNECT with those people (or, will be the very reason you fail to do so).

HOWEVER. HOWEVER. THERE IS A DELICATE LINE. A BALANCING ACT. You CANNOT just simply attribute fanon flavored ideas of found family to such characters. That's too simple, and sometimes, is a complete disservice to the specific character you're working with. I am once again bringing up Chilchuck. YES, him being a dad Absolutely seeps into how he treats his party. But if you call him the party's dad, you're Insane. Do you know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT MAN???? He would prefer you didn't. But I digress. He strikes a fascinating balance, between having The Qualities and ESPECIALLY expressing his care for his party in a Really Specific divorced (separated.) father of three fashion, but that does Not make him a "dad friend". He's a professional. He's on business. He's going home at the end of the day, and at the end of this adventure he's thinking of setting up a shop. I wanted to keep this more vague and broad but like. The Chilchuck example REALLY DOES perfectly articulate What I'm trying to get at, here. He's the perfect encapsulation of How his family shapes him, how that bleeds into his relationships with others, vs Who he is as a person.

How we were raised, our family ties, whether you adhere to it or you've fallen FAR from the tree -- you still fell from that stupid fucking tree. It's in your blood. Literally. It gave you shape, whether you liked it or not. And sometimes some things just set off weird domino effects, that also affect us irrevocably forever.

WHICH IS. TO SAY. I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about. I'm always trying to figure that out. Found family is/can be real, you're not strictly bound by blood if you don't wanna be. BUT. The bullshit I'm constantly on, is trying to figure out how to balance all that without slotting everyone into reductive roles. I'm gay and I seek to destroy the nuclear family. Not attempt to recreate nuclear family 2.0. You CAN reconstruct What Family Is/Means from the ground up, but you have to accept that things are going to get Weird. Because you're Queer. You are fundamentally incompatible with the status quo and normalcy, the solution is NOT assimilation and palatability, the solution is to just. Get weirder. And be fluent in canon. Okay. I love you

[iwakuraz]

it's not going too well