#i just literally wrote it on my IDEAS SHELF

[quillsnink]

"Oppa"

A/N : Gif credit goes to the owner.

• It was a quiet Friday evening and you had come home from work a few hours ago and now had the sudden urge to arrange your closet. Your countless clothes were now scattered all over the bed with your Spotify Kpop playlist on shuffle in the background.

• Chan was busy working on writing some lyrics on his notepad in the other room.

• When he finally was satisfied with what he wrote he decided to check in on you and ask if you needed some help in folding your clothes.

• So he walked into the bedroom, rubbing the back of his neck, as he glanced around, when the familiar notes of Boy In Luv by BTS reached his ears. His eyes landed on you, swaying to the beat of the chorus as you folded your clothes, completely engrossed in the music.

• When the part 되고파 너의 오빠, 너를 향한 나의 마음을 왜 몰라? (I want to become your oppa why don't you know my feelings for you ?) came up, you noticed him standing at the doorway, you smirked at him.

• Feeling completely confident and mischievous this time for some reason, you grabbed an artificial rose from the vase on your bedside table and approached him, singing the lines to him passionately 나를 모른 척해도, 차가운 척해도 널 밀어내진 못하겠어 (even if you pretend to not know me and be cold i still can't push you away).

• Chan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, he clearly hadn't expected you to serenade him with this song, a song meant for a girl by a guy. "Wait what are you - ?! Are you seriously serenading me with this song ?" He continued to look at you in amusement yet he couldn't help but blush at your antics.

• You ignored him and continued to sing 되고파 너의 오빠 너의 남자가 될 거야 두고 봐 (i want to be your oppa I'll be your man, wait and see), as you held the rose out to him, tilting your head dramatically as you waited for his reaction with a mischievous smile on your face.

• Chan was utterly dumbfounded yet he couldn't hide his amusement and the growing grin on his face. He blinked a few times before bursting into laughter and said "out of all the songs in the world you serenaded me with a song about wanting to be someone's man ? Y/N you're unpredictable", he continued laughing, and took the rose.

• "So ? Can't I take charge and serenade you ?", you mock pouted.

• His laughter softened into a warm smile "you're too much you know that ?"

• "Thanks thanks, I aim to entertain".

• "Chan looked at the rose in his hand and said "you're lucky I find this adorable".

• "Adorable ? I was going for bold and romantic Chan", feigning offense.

• "Oh ya that too", he said as he pulled you closer.

• "You know I hated the word oppa ? I mean when I came to know this whole K industry existed that word was everywhere in songs, movies and fans overused it to no end so I found it cringy".

• He raised his eyebrows, "so what changed now ? because you know you literally just serenaded me with a song that had oppa".

• "Ahh I guess I kind of like it now but only in small doses. Maybe I started to like it because of you who knows ? Like it's not cringy when it comes to you, it's cute, I guess".

• He trailed off looking thoughtful. Then he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "So you think I'm cute ? Anyways if you ever did call me oppa, like, seriously, I think my heart might stop".

• You raised your eyebrows, smirking. "Oh is that so ?"

• "For the record you can call me anything and it would be sweet. But oppa, coming only from you is ..... special", he said quietly. You made a mental note about this.

• Fifteen minutes later, you both had fallen into a comfortable silence, as you continued to fold the last of your clothes with Chan's help, the oppa conversation forgotten for now. That was until you had a mischievous idea.

• Chan had folded a bunch of your clothes and was about to keep it on the top shelf of the closet but you wanted it to be on the middle shelf. So you realised that the opportunity couldn't be missed.

• "Oppa, put the clothes in the middle shelf", you said, trying not to smirk, feigning innocence.

• Chan froze mid-way, his head whipped towards you so fast, you were surprised he didn't pull a muscle.

• "What ? What did you just call me ?", his voice full of disbelief and shock.

• "What ? I just said oppa put the clothes in the middle shelf", you shrugged innocently, your tone nonchalant as if it was the most natural thing to do.

• Chan’s jaw dropped, and he stared at you as if you’d just declared something groundbreaking. "You,did you just, did you actually ?", he stammered, his usual eloquence completely failing him.

• You turned back to your task, suppressing a laugh as you placed the clothes you took from his hands neatly into the cupboard. "What’s the big deal ? You told me you'd like it, didn’t you?".

• "You ! You can’t just drop that on me out of nowhere ! I wasn’t ready !"

• You finally let out a laugh, closing the cupboard and turning to face him fully. "What do you mean, you weren’t ready ? It’s just a word".

• "No no no," he said, shaking his head, his expression somewhere between giddy and flustered. "It’s not just a word. You, you said it so casually ! Like, like…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as if trying to collect himself. "You know what you’re doing to me right now, don’t you ?"

• You shrugged, folding another shirt. "I have no idea what you’re talking about".

• "You've ruined me now. I'll be thinking about this for days now".

• "You're so sappy", you said, ruffling his hair.

• "And you love it",he shot back.

• A fortnight later, you walked into the studio with a nicely packed lunch for all the members. When you stepped in, the guys greeted you enthusiastically.

• "Look who's here",Minho said with a smirk. "Oh she's brought food", said Felix, his face lighting up.

• "Don't worry guys I brought extra for all of you, so no fighting over the food". You glanced over at Chan who was looking at you interact with the members with a smile on his face. You chatted some more with the guys.

• The boys laughed at some joke you made , and some time later their attention was completely focused on the food. Meanwhile you took the specially packed lunch you had brought for Chan and approached him.

• "I made this for you Channie", you said with a smile on your face.

• "Thanks love", he blushed as he took the box from your hands.

• The moment seemed innocent enough until, just as you were about to leave, you turned back to the room, saying your goodbyes to the other members. But as you reached the door, you turned to Chan, a mischievous idea in your head.

• "Oppa, eat well," you said sweetly, leaning in to kiss his cheek, your lips lingering on his cheek a moment long than usual before stepping back. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his stunned expression as you added a playful knowing wink before walking out. The room went silent.

• "Did she just - ?", Seungmin asked, looking up from his food in shock.

• "Oppa ? Since when does Y/N call you oppa ?" asked Hyunjin, his mouth half full with food, his eyes wide.

• Felix nearly choked on some rice, hastily patting his chest before he says "Wow i didn't know she even had that word in her vocabulary".

• Chan, on the other hand, was frozen in place, holding the lunch box like it was the most precious thing in the world. His face turned a deep shade of red, and he touched the spot on his cheek where you’d kissed him, as if to confirm it actually happened. "She just called me -" he began, his voice soft and incredulous. "She called me oppa a second time."

• "Yeah, we heard,"Jeongin deadpanned, though his eyes were still wide.

• "And kissed you on the cheek", Jisung added with a grin. "In front of all of us, too. Bold".

• "A second time ? What do you mean ?", Changbin asked him.

• Chan recounted to his members what happened two weeks prior in brief. He was met with a response of wolf whistles and loud 'woah's and clapping.

• Chan turned to glare at them, though his blush gave away his embarrassment. "Shut up guys,"he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words, hiding his face with his palms. " I didn't know she was going to do that. She just.. caught me off guard again"

• "Oh, you’re enjoying this", Jisung said, nudging Chan with his elbow. “Don’t even try to deny it".

• "Maybe a little", he admitted softly.

• "A little ? You look like you're on cloud nine", Hyunjin said smirking.

• The room erupted into laughter as Chan buried his face in his hands, his ears burning. " Can we just drop it already ?"

• "No way", Minho said. We're not letting you live this one down".

• Despite the teasing, Chan couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through his chest. The memory of your playful wink and the way you’d said oppa replayed in his mind, making him smile despite himself.

• As the laughter died down and the members turned their attention back to the food, Chan sat quietly, still holding the lunch box you’d given him. He couldn’t help but think about how effortlessly you managed to turn his world upside down with just a single word.

A/N : Hope you liked it. Do like, comment and follow if you did. Meanwhile you can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[levvthan]

We need more Dad Heisenberg i love how you wrote him!!

Now this is probably just me but i at least see Karl being a dad to a older son and younger daughter. And I would love to request the cute moments Heisenberg has with them, mostly asking how would be experiencing all their firsts, like first words and first steps, you get the idea. But just funny fluffy headcanons.

oh my gosh i absolutely love this dynamic idea! thank you for requesting!

dad! heisenberg headcannons (pt. 2) - heisenberg x f! reader

♡ milestones

he swears that he's going to make their first words something cool like boom, fuck or bitch

"Can you say bitch? Say bitch for daddy."

son's actual first word? "Dog" ... Karl was actually quite offended

daughters first word? "BOOM!" (he may of let her press the detonator button once or twice)

when his son takes his first steps, Karl gets so excited that he mistakably cheers too loud and scares the living shit out of him

"Karl you idiot! You made him trip!" ... "No, no, come on - try again! OH SHIT LOOK AT HIM GO!"

with his daughter, he's far more careful with his voice (you had to remind him to keep it down this time)

that is until she practically sprints across the room to him

he's so overjoyed he picks her up and spins her around in the air

"My girl! Look, she did it!" ... "Karl - Don't drop her goddammit!"

his son would be a lot like him, and it really shows during his first tantrum

he is fascinated with his dads hammer, constantly trying to hold and touch it

whenever you or Karl would take it away he'd go into full-blown meltdown mode

"My boy, you quite literally can't even lift it." ... "Karl - how many times? I told you to keep it out of his sight!"

*louder screaming as Karl puts it on a shelf*

with his daughter, her tantrums are silent... but deadly

she ends up going teary eyed, comparable to a sad puppy, which makes Karl feel incredibly guilty

"Don't give me that look." *eyes intensify* "... OK, fine. You win."

♡ time with his son

Karl would insist on his son following in his footsteps in being an engineer

he'd teach his son how to use tools properly, but his son immediately just wants to whack things with them

"No, we use them to fix things, we don't - HEY!" *son bonks him on the head with a spanner*

as his son grows older, they'd spend hours on projects together in Karl's workshop... building questionable contraptions

when you call them for dinner, you'd have to practically force them both to take a shower

*sat around the table* they both reek of oil, Karl has ash smeared on his face, whilst your son looks like he's been subjected to multiple explosions

the two of them wrestle a lot, usually ending in one of them jumping off a piece furniture in order to tackle the other... much to your disapproval

"Darling, do we really need a coffee table? We can just build a new one."

♡ time with his daughter

Karl's daughter would follow him everywhere, practically his shadow

Workshop? She's there. Outside? Right behind him. Personal space? What's that?

"Pumpkin, why don't you go hang with your mom or brother instead?" (secretly, he doesn't want her to leave)

she loves trying to scare him, cackling like a little goblin right after

however, Karl's scarily immune to jump scares, so he often has to pretend

"RAHHHH!" *his daughter jumps out a corner* "JESUS! - goddammit! You scared me!"

his daughter would also be obsessed with his hair, she'd constantly ask to braid or style it for him

"You're going to look so pretty daddy." ... "Great."

if she'd braided it, he'd often forget to take them out, you'd see him and almost choke

she would also pester him to play dolls, even though he was terrible at it and 'made everything boy-ish' (her own words)

"Hello, I am - uh - Mr... Metal-Man World Destroyer. I am here to DESTROY the castle! Mwhahaha! " ... "NO daddy! He's a knight!"

his son would walk past her room, snickering, earning a death glare from Karl

[kulemiwrites]

VARIOUS | Shopping Headcanons

Characters: Masato Aizawa, Akira Nishikiyama, Goro Majima | GN!Reader

Prompt: Domestic headcanons centered around shopping.

Note: I mentioned some time ago that I'd be bringing this here. It's an xReader version of something I wrote for my original ss blog. So, essentially more generalized than the version that was tailored for me. Please bear in mind that the voice/written style is different because it was originally made for a different blog. Oh and to simplify things, “leisure” is basically just shopping for clothes/jewelry/etc, while “errand” refers to groceries and household items. Enjoy!

GENERAL

MASATO AIZAWA

LEISURE 

Masato hates shopping. He absolutely hates it. It’s not something that he would ever really do for leisure. If he’s out shopping, chances are it’s because he’s in need of something. With that being the case, each instance is him going to whatever store happens to be on this radar with the intention of going in and getting out. He knows exactly what he’s in there for and he will allocate an allotted amount of time to dedicate to that. He prefers to not go over that time, if he can finish with time to spare it’s like bonus points. He will not shop for clothes unless he has to shop for a special event of some kind. (His White Suit Purple Shirt? Brand new. It was a special occasion, after all.) Otherwise, he will walk around in pairs of underwear long after they’ve started to show signs of wear. Unless his clothes look/feel like they need to be replaced, he simply won't. This is why, when he does shop for clothes, he tries to make sure it’s pretty solid quality so that it lasts.

ERRAND

He’s more patient when shopping for say, groceries. He needs to eat. If he can help it, he’s not skipping a meal. He’s got favorite grocery stores/markets. He will spend the extra money to get the freshest ingredients when he can but he does still keep a budget. He does NOT play about his proteins and produce AND he always shops with a list.

RELATIONSHIPS

LEISURE

Sorry but Masa’s idea of fun quality time does not include shopping. If he’s taking his partner shopping, it’s likely because he would like a second opinion on something he’s in need of. Or, they just so happen to be out and about, remembered he needed something and thought why not? Two birds, one stone. If he’s convinced (dragged out of the house) to accompany his partner while they’re clothes shopping, they should expect him to only be in a good mood for the first 30 minutes to an hour. After that, any request for his input will include a heavy sigh, shrug and some mutterings of whatever his answer may be. If he goes shopping for a gift for his partner, it would mean he genuinely loves/cares about them because he wouldn’t even do it for himself if he didn’t have to.

ERRAND

He’s really helpful if he and his partner are tag teaming household necessities. He makes sure a list is made before even hopping in the car (or whatever transportation is being used). He is happy to grab things off the top shelf when need be. He lifts all the heavy things and puts them in the basket/cart so that his partner doesn’t have to. He’s pushing or carrying the basket/cart and he’s happy to carry all the bags inside when all is said and done. He’s affectionate in general but he won't be able to stop trying to hold hands, touch or smooch his partner while out doing household shopping. Something about the domesticity of it all just makes him feel light and happy. When he’s doing household shopping, he might even be on board with a little extra browsing so long as it doesn’t take too long.

GENERAL

AKIRA NISHIKIYAMA

LEISURE

Akira LOVES shopping. It’s literally one of his most treasured past times. He shops to freshen up his wardrobe regularly– a word stronger than “regularly” is needed here. He will take himself shopping just to lighten up his mood sometimes. He’s really big on retail therapy. He will shop in person and he would shop online. When he was younger, he used to subscribe to a ridiculous amount of catalogs and best believe he was ordering something every time. He does not skimp when it comes to clothing. He doesn’t do budget retail. He turns his nose up at it. He does have small local boutiques that he fancies but he’s mostly a brand snob- you would think there was a cult the way he shows his loyalty. He hardly looks at a price tag and if he does, it’s because he knows something is pricey and wants to remember so that he can boast about it later. Even so, he is very opinionated about the quality of the clothes he buys. Like, sometimes he’ll buy things because X Brand released it and he wants to say that he owns it but he may never actually wear it because he recognizes when the quality is shit. 

ERRAND

When it comes to food, he cannot be trusted to buy groceries. He has a horrible habit of assuming that a higher price tag means that something is better– and it’s not. He hardly cooks anyway. The only thing he’s actually good at shopping for is the produce he likes. Other than that? He’s probably just gonna eat take out, take himself out or make something instant anyway. He doesn’t use lists. He just eyeballs the aisle til he spots a thing he remembers needing. There is a handful of items he swears by regardless of price but that’s likely because he grew up with it or someone else put him on. 

RELATIONSHIPS

LEISURE

His love for shopping doesn’t change just because he’s got a pretty little thing on his arm. If anything, chances are he’s more into it because he gets to not only spoil them but he gets to use them as a doll, his to dress up any way he pleases- they might not be up for it at first but he’s good at convincing. His partner kinda has to be open to dressing well. It’s a really big part of him and he would want a partner that can share that with him. He doesn’t want to be dressed to the nines while his partner ‘looks like a slouch’. He’s really honest too– Picked something unflattering? They’ll know. He may be gentle if they have the temperament that requires him to be but otherwise, he doesn’t really mince words. He takes a bunch of liberties when it comes to shopping for his partner too. He might have to be told to tone it down once or twice in order to get the memo. 

ERRAND

When it comes to groceries/household shopping though? He could NOT be bothered to care. He will join his partner if they need his company but the actual shopping part is on them. If they ask for his opinion on something he’ll just shrug and go “Your call, babe.” His mind is likely preoccupied with something else so he’s not really reliable when it comes to recalling what’s needed for the house. That’s his partner’s job, essentially. There are perks to having him there though! He contributes by lifting, carrying and paying. 

GENERAL

GORO MAJIMA

LEISURE

Goro doesn’t really do a whole lot of shopping. He doesn’t have the time, and when he has the time, he doesn’t have the energy. When he was younger, he had a habit of buying things he liked in bulk so that if he really liked it, he didn’t have to go to the trouble of hunting it down when it was time for a replacement. He doesn’t care about trends when it comes to his own personal style. So there’s not much of a need to update the ol’ wardrobe. 

ERRAND

He has a garbage diet and he pretty much eats the same things regularly. So, if he does wind up grocery shopping, it’s pretty in and out. He may be unpredictable but his internal grocery list really isn’t. He prefers to keep things simple in his fridge if he is planning on cooking. He’s no chef by any means. So, the less complicated the ingredients, the better. There did come a point though, where when he was in need of anything, he’d basically pawn the responsibility off to one of his men. 

RELATIONSHIPS

LEISURE

There are much better things to do with a partner than wasting time shopping. He will shop with his partner if asked but it’s not something he would personally set out to do. There are two exceptions– if there’s an event that both he and his partner are attending (and if he’s not wearing his usual snakeskin/leather getup). He wouldn’t mind shopping together for something like that. Or, it’s a super special occasion, like an important anniversary, he’ll go out on his own to hand pick a gift. Only special occasions, though. If it’s just something as simple as a small token to show his partner he’s thinking of them, yeah, he’d definitely pawn that shit off on one of his men. “Oi, go get my __ somethin’ pretty! An’ make sure it ain’t some tacky ass shit like last time!”

ERRAND

If his partner is better versed in the kitchen than he is, he would pretty much just follow their lead. So long as his basic essentials are ticked off, he doesn’t really care what’s bought.  This is definitely another thing he’d pawn off to his men if his partner would let him. At one point, it wasn’t uncommon for him to send someone to tag along with his partner in his place when his hands were tied with other stuff. That person was to act as a guard but also, to ensure that his partner isn’t straining themselves carrying stuff that’s too heavy or trying to grab something just out of reach.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

Find Part II Here

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

-----------------------------------------------------------

A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

Permanent Tag List

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@strawb3rri-le

(Ask/PM me if you wanna be added/removed to a permanent or chapter tag list!)

[doomedtoxicyuri333]

my gwenpoop headcanons!!! :3

do NOT expect any kawaii one dimensional fangirl gwen stereotyping here. i do NOT tolerate that shit smh my head (moreso based on what i think her mcu ver should be like)

owns a goddamn juicy peach ice geek bar. i don’t even support vaping but if ur telling me a depressed teenage girl is NOT a nicotine addict in anyway u r lying straight to my face

continuing on w the geek bar, she doesn’t rlly get to hit it anymore because of being watched 24/7 (sad). she does appreciate when the writers allow her a singular puff for comedic effect

avid follower and supporter of the afffirmations insta account. I am not constant flashback to that one time when I did something out of character at school and my stomach felt weird

currently bunks w wade and does NOT pay her share of the rent

wade pretends to be pissed but lets it slide under the rug everytime

speaking of wade i can talk abt their dynamic for HOURRRRRSSSS dont even get me STARTED

literally them ^^^^

has episodes where she misses team modok so much she doesn't leave the house for days (i hate when ppl just overlook how much team modok meant to her just to focus on wade or someone else)

still (somehow) has a steady, semi-internship with matt murdock at his lawfirm. lots of ppl don't look at the gwenompool comics as canon and i DEF don't i just think matt and gwen are fun

DEFINITELY went to shitloads of miku events when she still lived in the 'real world'. teddy also loved her and they always went together. #siblingbondingtime

speaking of teddy, she definitely still feels bad for how she left him. she doesn't know if he's still alive in the 'real world', or lost in interdimensional purgatory. there's no point in dwelling on it for too long, though

even though i KNOW gwen canonically has adhd and i KNOW these disorders can easily overlap, i picture gwen to have bpd. there's just.... so much evidence in her comics (suicidal ideation, reckless behaviour, lack of emotional recognition (at least at the beginning of her journey))

also speaking of (take a shot how many times i say this hehe), i feel like people don't talk about gwenpool's implied suicidalness ENOUGH

showed bucky fnaf. i don't know how they met or why she did, but she definitely at LEAST showed him fnaf 4 (my fav)

gwen's music taste is just straight up noise or the most depressing shit you've ever heard. i'm talking 100 gecs, bladee (and all of drain gang), 2hollis, alice longyu gao, underscores, charli xcx, sophie, jane remover, aphex twin, yuele. also a lot of avril lavigne and sex pistols and ramones (based on her early casual design) (alternative gwen you will forever be missed)

off topic but i'm so mad at what gurihiru did to my girl. her ass would NOT wear that (tfw the most popular characterisation of ur fav isn't how u picture them)

most ppl only see her reading comics, but i def think she read lots of books as well!! girl wanted to be a writer she had to have been reading at least a FEW books.

she def wrote fanfiction of undertale and eddsworld and stuff on quotev and wattpad and it def got semi-popular

ex sans fangirl........... me too girl

still is an informant for moon knight!!! even if deadpool kills the marvel universe isn't canon, i still like the idea ^_^ they are both insane and crazy and i love them

in my mind, moon knight, batroc, and logan are gwen's father figures, bucky, clint, and bullseye are her weird uncles, and wade is a mixture of both and is somehow like her brother as well. don't ask

thinking abt her dynamic w the wolverines as well.... she's obvi another mentally ill, 'superpowered' teenage girl for him to father....... but laura....... their dynamic..........

i see it as gwen WANTING to turn herself into a weapon and to be able to fight to give herself more shelf life, but laura wants to be anything but and is EXTREMELY confused on why gwen tries to force it so hard

gwen and laura butchfemme queerplatonic realness

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames or specific AUs your WIPs; not titles, filenames (eg werewolf AU, unnamed mafia omegaverse, or Steve's Rizz vs Eddie's Zero Filter.)

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write at least 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

I have to put Model on the shelf this week because I have so much of it backlogged and it is always so popular that having it on the list this week would just push it farther ahead of the others. Same with Street Racer, I have 5 in backlog and a bunch of stuff done for later in the story. So I have to work on something else this week.

So what I'm going to have instead is Dragon Slayer and Spellbound, I still can't share anything on either one yet, but I need to work on them as Dragon Slayer been put on the back burner for awhile and Himbo Witch is almost done. So what's going to happen is that instead you'll get a gif of some kind (thanks to @dreamercec for idea) and I'll write the four paragraphs so I can finish a chapter for Dragon Slayer at long last and with luck Himbo Witch, too.

“File” Names

Dragon Slayer

Murder Mystery

Mascot Eddie

Himbo Witch

Kid Fic

Snippet

Street Racer (literally the only thing I worked on this week that was shareable.)

What Eddie didn’t realize as he splashed around were that there were some jocks with a grudge or something stupid.

Because before he even knew what was happening, he was being shoved into the water. He could hear the shouts and the shrill of the lifeguard whistle as he struggled against the two other boys and for breath.

Then suddenly he was being yanked out of the water. He was against someone’s chest, their forearm, keeping his head above water. Then they had reached the edge of the pool, and the arm shifted to underneath his armpits to haul him out of the water.

He was laid on his side as he coughed up water.

Vaguely he could hear behind people yelling and screaming.

Then Rachel gently pulled him into sitting position so she could wrap a towel around him. “Hey are you okay? You swallowed a lot of water.”

Eddie coughed again, shivering despite the heat of the sun and the warmth of the towel.

“Fuck!” he finally bit out. “What the hell were they thinking?”

Rachel shrugged. “Our boss, Felix wanted to call the cops, but the manager, Joan said that it was just boys being boys. Like they weren’t trying to fucking kill you.”

Eddie nodded. “At least tell me they got thrown out.” He pulled the towel tighter around himself.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Felix got them banned for life.”

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

Tag List:

@zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate @dreamercec

@beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @kultiras @niniel-karenine

ALSO: Just a heads up! I will not be doing WIP on June 11th. I will have family visiting on that day and won't be able to devote my full attention to it like I'd want.

[kvetchlandia]

Pompilio Villarubbia Norri Roman Poet Gaius Valerius Catullus c.1935

When I was in high school, everyone was taking smart choice foreign languages: French, Spanish, German. I'm sure people would have taken Mandarin had my school offered it. But no, not me. I had to do the lame thing and go for the useless. I took Latin. By the time I hit university, I was pretty advanced in the language, but hadn't yet subjected myself to the barbarism of Medieval Church Latin (sorry, but what can I tell ya? I'm a classicist, I guess). Anyway, in my first term at Berkeley, I took an intensive course so I could hop right into translation of serious classical documents. My instructor (I still remember her name, which was great. She was called Tizzzie) had us select a Catullus poem to translate, just as a warm up. At random, because I didn't know it, I chose Catullus 58, one of the Lesbia poems. Lesbia was Catullus' love for a while, and he wrote a bunch of lovely romantic poems inspired by and dedicated to her. Then they had a nasty breakup and he took out the literary knives. Here is Catullus 58 in Latin:

Caeli, Lesbia nostra, Lesbia illa, illa Lesbia, quam Catullus unam plus quam se atque suos amavit omnes, nunc in quadriviis et angiportis glubit magnanimi Remi nepotes.

The reason I'm telling this boring tale is this: Look at the last line. Do you see the first word in the line - glubit (3rd person singular of the verb glubere, if you really wanted to know, which I rather doubt is the case). Well, I had no idea what the verb meant, never having encountered it before. I looked it up in my little student's Latin/English dictionary, only to find that it didn't appear there. Mystified, I went to the Doe Library, Berkeley's main library, where they had a bunch of Latin/English dictionaries. I grabbed one off the shelf at random and finally found a definition, which was "to bark back." I was like, "to bark back," what the fuck does that mean? Finally, I went to the humungous Oxford Latin Dictionary, in which at last I found a definition that made some sense. That would be - glubere: to pull back the foreskin prior to giving oral sex.

Damn, Latin actually had a piece of sex slang which literally meant to pull back the foreskin prior to giving a blow job! I learned this at UC Berkeley. And people say college isn't good for anything!

And, for those few of you who've bothered to read this far, here's my translation of the poem:

Caelius, our Lesbia, that Lesbia, that same Lesbia, who alone Catullus once loved more than himself and all others, now in the crossroads and alleyways pulls back the foreskins and sucks off the descendants of noble Remus.

OK, that's our lesson for the day. Be prepared for a quiz tomorrow. Class dismissed.

[hohotushka228]

Hallo everynyan!

So.. I apologize in advance that I haven't posted for-.. how long.. About.. three days??(•﹏•").. So forgive and understand for this<3.. To be honest, I just didn’t have any ideas on what to draw, as I said in previous posts, and..I really wouldn't mind if you had some ideas for me. It would be nice to discuss some points and heads on Bugbo with you<)

Oh yeah, about them! I made a little comic based on my Head canon that I wrote about half a year ago... And if you find it interesting, you can read it:)

The head canon is that Bugbo loves tea, absolutely any kind, he drinks it constantly, day and night. And sometimes, for new herbs for tea, Bugbo sends Hoppo into the forest and to the store so that she can bring some. And from the collected herbs, Bugbo makes tea.

And his friends sometimes wonder where he gets all this stuff from, because literally on every shelf there is at least some kind of box of tea.

Oh, And also Head canon, the fact that Bugbo, although he follows a regimen and advises everyone to sleep at night, he himself could still hang out in the kitchen, and just.. sit.. and probably think about life, thehe<3

I just noticed that I didn't quite finish the drawing... It's not a big deal, right..?

*sigh*.. why the hell is it always in the wrong order?! ◉⁠‿⁠◉..

[shiftylinguini]

Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack:

@phoebe-delia asked in response to this fun lil ask game:

Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back? . (for the ask anything) Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back?

Now THIS. This is a good question, and something that is very much on my mind and has been for a while, as I am currently absolutely in the midst of this and trying to army crawl my way out. I don't have any magic bullets (is that the saying? idk) but I have been here before and i do have a small arsenal of tips or methods that I find can help me. 

Here is my Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack (In no particular order):

Write anything 

This is hardly groundbreaking advice, and it's also the hardest thing to actually do (imo) so do not beat yourself up if it takes a while to get to this. Basically, write ANYTHING―it can be aimless, it can be pointless, it can be crap (crap is subjective!! don't let the brain gremlins win!!). 

Don't think about posting it, don't worry about anyone else ever reading it, just fling a few words onto a page and feel the rusty faucet turn on, proving to yourself that it still works. 

Try and sus out what it is that's blocking you 

Again this one is hard and annoying but functional. Once you can put your finger on the particular reason you're staring at a flashing black line on a blank page it can help you kick that reason off your lawn and into the bin. 

And then, take it out of the bin and be kind to yourself about whatever that reason is. Maybe you feel shit because you're comparing yourself to others, your last fic felt like a lead balloon, you can't muster enthusiasm for what you once loved doing and fear that it's gone forever, you're projecting in a Tumblr post―whatever it is, it's something all the writers you admire and aspire to be like have felt, and been annoyed with themselves for, and so you can wrap it up in a blanket and put it on a shelf and be kind to it so it, (respectfully) shuts the fuck up. 

(and remember, everyone feels insecure about their stuff. Like literally everyone, at some stage, feels like their stuff is rubbish)

Cheat on your OTP 

Okay this one might not work for everyone, but it really does for me lol. Ruts (not the sexy kind) can often come with not wanting to engage in my usual ships, being annoyed by my lack of ability to fucking write them/anything/all my ideas taste like cardboard/bleh, and stepping out on them and reading something new can snap me out of it. Just, an injection of new ideas or scenarios or words or even just a little reprieve from being fed up with myself, which ideally, is why we're all here anyway. 

(And then I come crawling back, and am welcomed with open arms haha)

In a similar vein:

Engage in media 

This subtitle is genuinely terrible, i am sorry, LMAO, but essentially: find a piece of media that makes you go "oh, helLO sailor", unhinge your jaw like a snake, and consume it whole. 

Let it nourish you, inspire you, excite you, making you feel SOMETHING, and then take that and think "fuck, what if i wrote bleepbloopblarp" and even if you write nary a single word, you've thought about it and that fucking counts. 

It might be an album, a book, a song, a show, gifs of a hot person, the wikipedia summary of a movie, literally anything counts here if it makes you feel a twinge of creativity. 

Ask yourself, what would Astolat do? 

No for real. @candybarrnerd and I genuinely use this haha.  

Worried your idea is stupid? Astolat would say write it. 

Worried it's too weird? Nah, just write it. 

It's dumb and no one will read it? Just write it for you *waggles eyebrows* (and then find out that yeah, nah, someone else will absolutely read this and be real fucking happy about it haha.)

Worried you're a one trick pony and have already written this fic before, like, and not even once before, and also you're projecting again in Tumblr post? WRITE IT AGAIN! As Astolat once said, "it's a fic so nice, I wrote it thrice". 

It's good advice. 

Make a friend or lean hard on the ones you have here

Misery loves company because it knows they'll come out of this together :). I know, I know, that's fucking NAFF, but fandom is all about finding like-minded freaks and blowing up their DMs because you saw a gif and now feel a kind of ways about it. 

And lastly: 

FUCK STATS! 

I mean I love stats (yay validation!), but god can they make you feel like a worthless shit (hey where did my validation go :((( ). It can be really insidious, so piss that right off when it starts to fuck with your confidence or outlook on your own writing.

Hopefully there is something useful here, even if it's just looking at this advice and thinking "no that's shit, it's writing POISON" cos then you can maybe do the version you think is NOT shit, and that might work. 

Good luck, fellow travelers!!

[nehswritesstuffs]

HEART PIRATES WEEK 2025 - Part 5 of 9

It's Heart Pirate season!

Day Five: Clione - Baking

781 words; I literally wrote this and Day Eight in one sitting (not including brief editing) and I am proud of that; no warnings other than moderate language

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Cursing whomever it was that picked the oven he was currently fighting with, Clione tried to not pull out his hair as he tried to figure out why it wasn’t turning on. It was already a finicky, temperamental thing that only allowed a select few to use it, but everything he currently was doing led to the same result: a cold oven while there was bread nearly done proofing.

“Piece of shit!” he cussed, kicking the appliance. That didn’t set it off either. He didn’t get it—everything was plugged in and attached correctly, nothing was missing or out-of-place—why wouldn’t it work?!

“Doing that isn’t going to make it any better,” Shachi said. Clione looked to see his crewmate standing there, reaching for an apple that was sitting in the fruit bowl. “We used to go weeks sometimes without using it.”

“How in the hell did you get anything done?” Clione wondered. Shachi shrugged.

“At least the Captain won’t miss bread, and a happy Captain leads to a happy life.”

“I guess.” He looked over at the bread pans and tried to think of what to do. “I can’t stick them in the freezer at this point, so now what?”

“Get creative.”

“…and how do you propose I do that?”

“You can always do what Penguin and I did when we wanted a bit of pizza back in the day.” Clione tilted his head and frowned—huh…? “There’s another oven on the ship, if you know where to look.”

Clione thought about that for a moment before it clicked in his head. “But Ikkaku will kill us.”

“Ikkaku’s on rest shift.”

Oh… he had a point.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It did not take long for Shachi and Clione to bring all the bread pans to the boiler room, confusing Uni as they invaded the operation with their own. Shachi located the door they’d use as an oven and Clione slid the loaves in, hoping it would work out alright. It seemed like it did, with the shelf on the inside of the boiler furnace just big enough for what he had, with a lip on the inside edge so that the pans didn’t slide off. To be honest, Clione was impressed with the idea even slightly working—maybe if he’d spent more time in the boiler room, he’d’ve thought of it earlier…

“Are you sure that’s going to be alright?” Uni wondered, pointing at the oven door. “That’s kind of taking a big risk, isn’t it?”

“Nah; Ikkaku would be the one who’d hate it the most, and she’s not scheduled for another five hours,” Clione reasoned. “Besides, Shachi said he and Penguin did it all the time.”

“Then why is he not here?”

“…because he’s got other things to do? I don’t know.” It was true that Shachi had very conveniently slipped out of the boiler room, but that was neither here nor there, right? “Besides, they’re almost done.”

“If you say so,” Uni warned, going back to monitoring his series of pressure valves and thermometers. He didn’t want to seem to be involved—oh well. That was fine. Clione peeked in on the bread and felt highly accomplished—it was done. He put on his oven mitts and began to take the pans out one by one, setting them down on the high-temperature thermal mat he was standing on before transporting them to the kitchen. Bringing them over two at a time, he was nearly done when Ikkaku almost ran into him in the doorway.

“What’s that…?” she asked, pointing to the pans. Clione presented them proudly (whilst unknown to him, Uni facepalmed at his stupidity).

“The oven in the kitchen wasn’t working, so I used an alternative,” he said. “It worked well, didn’t it?”

“You used my furnace to bake bread?” Ikkaku frowned. He shrugged.

“Only because the oven was being a shit; looks like they turned out great, though.”

“Okay, here’s a tip for you: never, ever use the furnace to bake anything ever again. The potential mess is not worth cleaning up.” Her warning out of the way, she then folded her arms as she stared him down. “Now, who was it who gave you the idea? Penguin or Shachi?”

“Uh…”

“I’m not an idiot; which one?”

“Shachi…?”

“Good. You live another day.” She walked away, seemingly too calm for what just happened, with Uni leaning down to look at the bread for a moment.

“Better leave now while you have the chance,” he warned. Clione did not give him the chance to say it again, bolting off in the direction of the kitchen, the sounds of Ikkaku arguing chasing him as he made it to safety.

[attaiii]

Can I ask about cannibalism... Attai cannibalism is my special interest you can't put cannibalism on there and expect me not to like salivate...... Attai.... You're feeding us.....

(ps I'm gonna do the WIP ask game tomorrowwwww)

LMAOO cannibalism too has been a special interest of mine. I actually have an entire shelf on my bookshelf dedicated to books about it....ironically, the WIP I’m working on right now is the smut fanfic I’ve been endlessly complaining about on here. because somehow, using an excessive amount of metaphors for literally eating somebody made it feel less cringey than just writing plain smut. I really wanted to write something with dazai being insanely obsessive and unhealthy in the way he loves, and for some reason, cannibalistic smut was the result of that. I have soooo many ideas with this concept, but this one happened to be the first thing I actually wrote something somewhat thought-out for. i'm actually very close to being done with this fic, i'm just being shy about posting it cause i've never written smut before 😭 here's a tiny passage from it ->

[sakuraharukaaa]

just a short, fluffy fanfic about my baby son that I wrote in like an hour ♥♥ too lazy to publish on ao3 for now, but maybe later

word count: 1197 words

It’s the smallest things in life. The little things that slowly creep into his daily life until they become a part of his routine. 

People are so adaptable, Haruka can’t help but think. It’s somewhat of a motto, though the connotation used to be negative in the past. He used to think of himself as someone durable who can withstand whatever life throws on him. He always believed that staying firm would keep him safe in the troubling currents of life. He didn’t realize that he, too, can change so much. 

It starts with Nirei, who shows him a pack of tea he got the day earlier. 

“It’s my favorite!” He says ever so enthusiastically. He insists on Haruka drinking it. 

But I don’t like tea that much. It stands on the tip of his tongue, yet he doesn’t say it. The taste is just okay. Barely passable, if he’d be honest, but for some reason he cannot refuse when Nirei shoves the almost-full box into his hands. 

He writes it off as something to put in his cabinet, a single box in an empty shelf – what a laughable idea. He can’t really drink it though, since he doesn’t own a kettle.

Suou is always too perceptive. Haruka finds it mildly annoying, especially when he sticks too close to Nirei. Something about an instinct to tell him off, to tell him that Haruka knew him first, and he shouldn’t be so chummy with Nirei. 

Whatever. 

That weasel approaches a couple of days later, talking about Nirei’s favorite tea, because of course he’d know about it. 

“It is quite good, I was surprised.” His smile is odd and sometimes uncomfortable, but Haruka learned to live with it. The hostility wasn’t targeted towards him, it’s just a general warning. “You should drink good tea in a good cup.” 

So he gives Haruka a weird mug with some calligraphy on it. It’s not legible, in no way it is, and Haruka still doesn’t own a kettle. 

He mentions the kettle debacle – off handedly, really – to Kotoha, and she immediately breaks into laughter. It’s a strange noise and he’s about to comment about it, when she suddenly stops. 

“Hold on, do I have an old one?” She speaks quietly, more to herself rather than to him. “It has to be an electric one.” And she leaves for the back storage room without saying a thing. 

Trust her to be a problem solver, of course. She emerges from the storage room with an old, gray kettle. 

“You have to be careful with the cord.” She says with a shy smile that doesn’t suit her. “If you pull too strongly on it, it will expose the wires.” And only then Haruka notices the tape around the end of the cord, a shoddy fix he assumes. 

Honestly? It’s better than nothing. 

So he takes the kettle. 

(Haruka doesn’t even like tea, he’s more of a coffee guy. 

He could make coffee with the kettle in his home, if he so desires, but it takes a long time until he realizes that. By then, he finds an appropriate excuse – he cannot make coffee as good as Kotoha’s with this old thing. 

Better stick to the tea.)

The next one is Umemiya, who somehow heard about the kettle incident. Probably got the information from Kotoha by torture (read: annoying her). He thinks it’s okay to turn it into a charity case, or so Haruka assumes because he never truly understands him. 

So he stops Haruka after a long, long day where nothing worked out, and his big, dumb smile is too blinding right now. 

“I hear you’re furnishing your room!” He’s far too energetic and Haruka grits his teeth. 

APARTMENT, not room, he almost says, and he doesn’t believe that a single box of tea and an ugly mug and an old kettle warrant the use of the word furnishing. It’s literally three items. 

“I thought I’d give you this!” At first Haruka doesn’t realize what this is, until he notices that the hand holding a pot is extended towards him. 

“No way.” He flat out refuses. He can’t believe he was called to the rooftop for this shit. Behind Umemiya, Hiragi is giving him a resigned sympathetic look. 

Umemiya has plenty of reasons why he should take the plant – of course he does! – and at some point Hiragi exasperatedly signs him to give up. 

His pride takes somewhat of a hit when he comes home with that plant that evening. 

(Sugishita gave him a watering can. 

That bastard actually gave him a watering can. 

He doesn’t say anything but he leaves it on Haruka’s desk alongside fucking four pages of how to take care of plants. 

Jesus Christ.)

It’s after a training session when he goes around the neighborhood with Kaji on a semi-patrol (more like an excuse to get candies because Kaji was running low and Haruka didn’t want to test his patience). Haruka doesn’t eat that stuff so he buys a drink at the vending machine next to the store. When he puts the change straight into his pocket, he catches Kaji’s slanted eyes judging him. 

“Really? That’s barbaric.” And Haruka has to summon all of his self restraint to stop himself from saying that Kaji is the barbaric one for making the nasty lump on the back of Haruka’s head. He doesn’t need another one to match the first. 

The next day, he receives a coin purse. A bit worn out at the seams, but it looks it was taken good care of. He is silent when Kaji hands him that, already knowing not to put up a fight. 

Haruka, unfortunately, doesn’t like coin purses or wallets, so he leaves it on the window sill, next to the plant. It doesn’t feel like it belongs inside the kitchen’s cabinets, so the window sill it is. 

Over the next weeks, it becomes worse. He gets a phone case from Kiryuu – a pink one with cherry blossoms to match his name, and he gets a huge water bottle from Tsugeura that was supposed to have some motivational quote on it, but Suou points out the English doesn’t make sense. When the other guys catch wind of that, they start giving him small things too. It is mostly stationary, but some of his classmates went to town on it. Someone gave him a small radio, which was neat and actually useful, but on the other hand, he got a fucking fork with a handle that was painted like a train. He did use it though, because no one was there to judge him for that when he was eating, and it certainly was more useful than the hot girl calendar he got. 

It’s all so odd when he’s home during the weekend, and he’s drinking tea from his ugly mug and eating with his train fork and staring at the plant on his window sill. It did grow nicely, that he has to admit, and somewhere along the way, it grew on him. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to take on that offer for a second plant though. 

[thehandwixard]

Hi! I really like your worldbuilding and was wondering if you had any ideas for how their equivalents of a printing press would be considering that Firth mentions getting the paper and I imagine they have some type of reading material like books or scrolls. 

Like if they use ink of some sort, the most obvious answer being from squids on some level or if they have a different form of manufacturing it as since squids are sapient here, they probably wouldn’t be too enthused about being mined for ink. Or it’s something like old thrown out paints, inks, and writing material from humans, though either way the question of how they would get certain materials to adhere underwater is questionable in itself. There are such things as waterproof paper and underwater writing utensils but I don’t imagine those would be common to come by nor do I think they would have that great of a ability really have much of the ability to manufacture them themselves on a large scale.

Or they just cut out the letters and symbols from stuff already printed by humans serial killer style, sort of like what the Bottom Feeders sign does

Hi, I wrote this one out in a doc to format it because i was thinking about so much information. This is going to be typed more formally than it would be otherwise because my program autocapitalizes lest i go insane. Its gonna be a little disjointed regardless. <3 giant wall of text under the cut im not subjecting anyones dash to this unprompted

As a preface: gonna assume paper, fabric, and other organic and/or delicate goods have a longer shelf life in this society, taking the same stance as for in-game props made of these materials. The cigarettes do not really dissolve and some paper can exist indefinitely, though it and cardboard are understood to be soggy. Whether this is due to sapient creature activity/preservation, or just due to the more cartoon logic of the setting and game design needs.

like this is just a good statement for my analysis and reads on this game's worldbuilding in general: there are a lot of things in crabgame that are not scientifically accurate and that is literally the most ok thing in the universe because of the needs of the gameplay, the story, just like ETC there is a lot of love for the real ocean in crabgame and thats what matters, and ill work around that. i, however, am also insane.

Also keep in mind that humans dont really do manufacturing and crafts underwater so while i’ve tried to keep water stuff in mind there is just not the info for how making oil based inks or individual batches of paper would work underwater yknow? Educated guesses. Wikipedia educated guesses.

Further assumption: Definitely agree with what u said about crabs not really having an ability to manufacture stuff on a large scale. I’m gonna assume factory work could definitely be a thing, but maybe not widespread like… industrialization. Industry is certainly a big and well-known thing in new-carcinia, and i don’t doubt that shellfish co. probably has some machine-powered factories, but most industry is probbbably going to be supplied through scavenging either way, even if it also includes craft and such. 

Third assumption: easy answer is that due to the trash economy yeah a lot of paints and inks used in theoretical printing, writing, and art would probably be, and have been scavenged from trash for a long time, probably superceding any of the previously implied small factories or home production joints. This isnt to say that these production methods could not be adopted for the trash economy though. Ill get into it. 

(clears throat) with all that said, through my basic research id have to say i think much manual writing and art, if made either through wholly original production or a mix of scavenging and refining, would be done through an equivalent to Grease Pencils, a wax writing tool which can make marks on hard and glossy surfaces, such as (relevant to crabs or other water critters) rock, ceramic, glass, metal, etc. there are many sources pigments for these writing implements could be derived from, like iron oxides (for use in reddish dyes), tyrian purple (there is actually a snail in the pacific that can be farmed for this dye without execution, Plicopurpura pansa iirc, who knew!) and carbon (ill return to this). 

You mention the ethical concerns of farming sapient squids for their ink and I do agree with those, no matter how much ink cephalopods produce its still like… a resource made from a person and production cant exactly rise to demand without the horrors occurring. However, i’m mostly just skeptical of how useful squid ink would be for writing underwater. This ink is almost entirely melanin particles bound together with mucus, which does eventually disperse in water. Not to say it couldnt be collected, but i feel like underwater application would be kind of a fruitless task. 

As an aside, with the general (really frightening (in a good way) to me) lack of molluscs we see in another crab’s treasure, tyrian purple or anything derived from molluscs would likely be largely out of the question. Some sea hares can also eject ink colored from the pigments they ingest from seaweed but also, this ink is toxic and… same mollusc problem. I guess people irl can eat sea hares so maybe with prep crabs could… who knows . Oh fuck pigments could be derived from seaweed and algae. Keep that in mind. 

I don’t… reject the possibility that crab society could have agricultural or dye farms but we only hear tell of like… One sardine farm and it is not sounding good for them. I don’t think these guys would really have any incentive to farm as little guys who can eat most things, one soldier in slacktide mentions scavenging heartkelp with their own claws. Probably some very small operations if any. 

ASIDE OVER THAT WAS JUST PIGMENTS MOSTLY, to me the tricky part is what IS the waxy part. The grease. The thing that does not dissolve in water. Again, these component parts can probably be scavenged (and probably Have been scavenged since even before the trash economy, canisters of wax definitely fall overboard whaling ships and such) but i honestly can’t think of many ways a crab could make such a substance wholecloth. Perhaps creation of a quasi-inkstick with agar-agar or animal glue (fish glue/isinglass) and pigment? Which would naturally be a bit wet and wouldnt need an inkstone to gather the substance onto the printing apparatus.

For the stuff crabs actually write or print on, assuming a form of this is possible underwater i think pressed homemade paper would be a perfectly reasonable option for small-scale applications, though honestly imo “the paper” (newspaper) that firth mentions is probably printed on either re-used scavenged coated paper or scavenged/manually flattened thin plastic sheets. With access to machinery, shellfish co. would likely be able to manufacture thin plastic sheets, the npc LaTuna mentions her dress being created somehow by Shellfish co. and so i dont doubt that type of simple production is possible. We also see a lot of writing on cardboard so im gonna assume scavenged paints or these like. Agar inks and paint stamps will work on those? Maybe with some kind of sealant…

And of course as u mention bottomfeeders and shellfish desires both have signs that are made out of english letters that were pre-made, so thats probably a good option when applicable. 

[unioncolours]

The 5th Majsasaurus Year

Today is the 22nd of September, 2024. As per tradition, I have written a reflection of the year that has passed since September 22nd 2023, a public diary entry of sorts. Not only is Sept 22nd Shikamaru’s birthday, but also Majsasaurus as a member of the Naruto fandom’s birthday as well. This date marks five years since I posted my first fic in the Naruto fandom. You can read my first reflection from 2020 here, the second from 2021 here, the third from 2022 here, and the fourth from 2023 here.

It's been five years guys! Half a decade of making a fool out of myself online!

I have to be honest, this year has not been the best when it comes to fandom. While not as depressing as the worst year of 2021, it’s been challenging for sure. Before I go into this year and personally reflects all its quirks and events, I’ll start by introducing my nickname that’s been used on me online; Bex.

When I got social in the Shikatema fandom spheres back in late 2019 I asked people to call me a different name, a name I chose. My back then friends said the name I chose was too long and didn’t want to call me that, so they gave me the name Bex. I accepted the nickname without whining, because there I was, new in a server, and I just followed their lead. So I became Bex online. This is important for later, hence why I told this backstory.

And now onto the fifth year of being this persona online. Keep reading if you’re interested in my year.

I finished my last review of my year by announcing to you, my followers and friends, that I was expecting a child, a theme which was very visible in the fic I published 23rd of September 2023, we hold galaxies.

Since I knew that I’d obviously would have to cut down my time spent online very drastically after my baby would be born, I planned to write one more Shikajin fic with the aim of it being around 30k long, hoped to publish it in December and then be on a longer break. However, it’s… not always that easy being pregnant haha! What I didn’t realise then but realised later was that I suffered from brain fog and that made writing challenging.

What did cherish my days was that dear SpicedGold, who I for a longer while have been close to, sent me a giftbox literally from across the globe. In that giftbox she included two homemade plushies, one of Inojin and one of Shikadai and I had never been so surprised in my life. Now two plushies of them is decorating my shelf above my computer by which I write fics! My friend @clumsydragon28sent me from another corner across the globe another gift box to me as a Christmas gift, where I got even more plushies! Those were of Rowlet from Pokémon and Fyodor from BSD and both plushies decorate my living room. The gifts were truly cherished.

However, because I had rather forcefully decided that I WILL write a final pre-motherhood fic and had a deadline if I wanted it published before my baby was born, it meant I stuck with the first idea I had that sounded mediocrely interesting. Yeah, I should not have forced myself at that point, but wanted to go on a break with a bang and wanted to give my readers something to chew on before giving birth.

And I had very strong faith in myself that I could make it.

For months I battled through writing a plotline my heart didn’t love and my due date got closer and closer and all I could see was plot holes and words that refused to form. I realised 30k would not be enough for whatever I was cooking, and I had now strayed very far from my original plan.

I started to procrastinate and, because I had gained 60 user subscribers on AO3 (if you’re one of them, thank you so much), I decided to host a silly bingo with prompts. I received a few prompt-asks and wrote mini fics for them, all around 600-800 words. It was a wonderful way of procrastinating. You can read my mini fics here: Jinchuuriki Temari part one and two, TemaTen modern au, a fluffy Shikatema, and a Witcher AU.

Not even when my maternity leave had begun before the due date had I made any significant dent in my primary fic and I failed my quest to publish it, even if I by then had a good idea of what to do of the story.

After my child was born and when I had healed form the birth the brain fog vanished immediately. With zero sleep and a tired body I once more had a vision for my fic, and I banged through the rest of it like a madwoman. I had inspiration once more!

TERRORISE, the Shikajin fic, was published at the end of March 2024 and ended being 56k long. It is definitely not my best fic by any means, and there are at least two or even three places where I know I could have added a subplot to up the word count to my trustworthy 90-something thousand words to make a deeper and more profound story, but at that season of my life I could not write a better story than what TERRORISE ended up being. The missing subplots were the lie Inojin told, and Chocho and Sarada’s common backstory, which were only mentioned and alluded to, but not explored like they could to have made a better story. The final chapter was published by the beginning of May, and I have not re-read anything of it.

I had already decided before my baby was born that my project when they were here would be to re-edit To go down with the Sun, my first long fic from 2019. I had often thought about re-editing it finally, since before 2019 I had never written something vast that in English before. That meant my fics at the beginning of my career had language errors that I couldn’t see then, but now was aware of. I started re-editing in May, thinking I would change and add to a good amount of scenes, but in the end, I only added a little bit to one scene aside from correcting and re-editing the rest, which honestly surprised me, even if I so boldly stated in my previous official diary post that there would not be anything to correct. That my bold claims were true did surprise me after all.

Beside that I also added more scenes to three chapters from no one cries for unknown soldiers, my Shikatema WWII fic from 2022, just because I could and I had wanted to do it for a longer while, since that fic would have benefited from having a longer editing period than what I allowed it to have two years ago. So I did! It was fun and lovely to dive back into one of my favourite projects of all of my time in fandom.

In the middle of re-editing Sun I was struck by very sudden and intense inspiration to write about Saiino. In my ‘giving birth’-projection fic with Temari I waxed poetics about the wonders (and horrors) of biology when it comes to childbirth and ended the fic on a very powerful and positive note, but now felt inclined to write a fic which featured a mother who did not have a wonderful start of her motherhood and who fell ill to postpartum depression instead of having a lovely baby bubble.

As if possessed I smashed on my keyboard and crunched to get the fic done in time for Mother’s Day 2024. I made it, and the Ino-centric fic to grow a bed of flowers was published late that evening. I even rushed my ending a bit to make it but even with a rushed ending the entire atmosphere of the piece of so bittersweet and lovely! Postpartum depression is also such a hidden or even taboo topic that I think it was very needed in our fandom to have a description of that.

I could then go back to To go down with the Sun, and I had even commissioned the skilled and wonderful @keijidraws to make a poster for the fic, which I felt like that fic deserved. Over these five years that has passed since I wrote the first words of this fic (if my memory isn’t failing me, I think it was 10th of October 2019 I started writing Sun), To go down with the Sun has given me so, so much. My most kudos and hits, many friends, online crushes, *fans* even if I dare to call them that, soulmates, it all, all started from that fic. It deserved getting reborn and loved again. It was a rather easy job banging through published chapters and just edit them. I had finished everything the final week of May and was really proud.

By the beginning of June I was planning to write an InoTema fic, and was musing between two different settings and plots when I learned that the way I was perceived in what was part of my fandom circle was not a positive one and, being my own fault for how I behaved or was, or not, it affected me badly. Being online caused me panic attacks, I got problems with my sleep, and I had nightmares. And because of that I started to hate the person I was online. I hated Bex and I hated Majsasaurus. I hated the way I was that had led to me being perceived that way and if I hadn’t known better and counted down from ten, I would have nuked myself off the internet out of shame and hatred.

I would have deleted this tumblr you are reading this post from. I would even have deleted my discord server I have loved and nurtured since 2021 without the blessings of the other mods, just nuked it, leaving them shocked and detached from the group of friends we had. I would have ruined it all. I would have deleted everything but my fics on AO3. No, deleted wouldn’t have been enough, in my hatred for my own persona, for Bex, this person that was given to me all those years ago, I wanted to kill her.

I constantly planned suicide letters in my head to post here online. Not killing myself in real life of course, but online. And killing Bex would mean to kill my love for Naruto the series and ShikaTema and Shikajin. How does one kill a hyperfixation?

I started working on it, on killing her. I created a new tumblr and a new nickname and logged out of this one. I hid my twitter account. I decided to never write a Naruto fic again. As you can see, it got very bad very fast. Some of you might think I overreacted at words on a screen and that it all was my own damn fault and I should have reacted or gone about it differently, but it just got like this.

The entire month of June and July I spent in darkness when it came to fandom. It felt like Shikajin would be the only thing keeping me tied to Naruto again and in a desperate attempt to cheer myself up I began editing To dance above the Stars, the sequel to To go down with the Sun, and my true favourite out of the trilogy it belongs to. To try to force myself to not give up, I asked my dear friend Soverel6 if she wanted to make me a poster and she happily agreed, without knowing I was one click away from deleting myself away from her.

Then I began editing sometimes in June. I thought the fic sucked when I re-read it this time around and rather than adding, deleted a lot of the content. Most of the content I deleted was unnecessary preaching for a cause I ran in the fic, and I toned down that theme a lot. After 4 chapters I was ready to give up, to just not bother anymore with this fandom crap and leave for good, when Soverel6 surprised me with an almost finished poster. For her sake, I could not give up. I could not fail the trust she had in me, and I kept fighting for my joy within the little world of the fic.

After a month of sulking and feeling awful I managed to once more spew fun ideas for @notquitejiraiya's sequel fic to her masterpiece Grandmaster, which we jokingly call GMJ (the real name is Piano Man haha). SpicedGold also got to know I was feeling bad and to cheer me up started writing the sequel, When Waterlilies Waken, to the fic that originally made us friends, Let Wildflowers Grow Free. I felt so honoured she got around to do this, after me talking (pestering her) about a potential sequel for a long time. During this time I had reached my favourite parts of the fic, To dance above the Stars, I was editing, and thanks to the support I received from friends when talking about it I finally managed to find it fun to work with a fic again. I was still greatly offline from Naruto spheres, and when I sometimes logged into this tumblr just to check I was very careful to never reblog anything and often logged out again with a pending panic attack.

I uploaded the edited chapter of To dance above the Stars onto AO3 when it was finished in August along with Soverel6’s poster and finally dared to show my face on twitter again. Twitter felt safer than tumblr for some reason.

By this time, two months since I began hating being part of this fandom, I finally started feeling hope again. I decided that, before taking the ultimate decision to actually leave, I must write one final long fic of ShikaTema. I mused different prompts, all of them long and angsty and bloody of course per my brand and what I love to write the most. I mused different plots and it was between yet another historical au which would take place during WWI, another historical au which would take place during the 1700s and focus on witch-hunting, or a fantasy au which would be my Witcher AU, which I have mused for a bit and am really fond of.

I decided in the end to attempt at the Witcher AU.

However, I didn’t start writing it, and started writing this text instead already in late August. Then, after knowing I had received so much love on the WWII-au from 2022, one of my best fics to be honest, in the spur of the moment I decided that I will record the entire fic as a podfic. I begged my dear friend Becks to make me a new poster for the fic’s re-launching as a podfic and since she luckily agreed, I promised myself to do it. I, Bex, would try something completely new! And dauting. And tough. Recording wasn’t a problem in itself, I love reading things out loud, but the chapters were longer than I thought when reading out loud, and the software I downloaded for the editing was not as easy to manoeuvre as I predicted.

Then the fatigue hit again. I got stuck. I have not given up and I will finish it, but the deadline is maybe by 2025, haha.

When I got stuck with recording myself, I managed to scrape together a will to finally, after three months of practically deciding to never write any fic ever again, write a one shot. That one shot ended up being a second chapter to we hold galaxies, my projection fic I published exactly a year ago on Shikadai’s birthday 2023. I first thought of making it a one shot, but ultimately decided to add it as a chapter instead, and I was pretty satisfied with how it ended up being.

Now I am facing what to do next. I still had that promise of a long ShikaTema fic, but the Witcher AU didn’t feel as good as it once did. The hype inside me waned at the same time as new ideas spurred. New ideas. Did you hear that, “new ideas”? That is the sound of me almost being healed from the intense hatred I felt towards my Naruto online persona during the summer.

One of the new ideas is for example connected to Inojin’s canon fate in Boruto the manga, during which chapter he ‘died’ I was not feeling good. I was already trying to strangle my love for him and then he DIED on me. I cried. Yeah, no, judge all you want, but I was not exactly mentally stable enough to witness that. Now, however, I am luckily having fun with engaging with canon once more, since Inojin survived, and we got some good food from the chapters. I had fun in my safe space with other people who were engaged with his fate.

I am now brooding an intense and angsty Shikatema canonverse long fic. Canonverse! It’s almost like going back in time to when I thought I only could (and wanted) to write canonverse, back in 2020 and 2021. I also have a wlw idea again, after deciding to trash all the InoTema ideas that were ruined due to my anxiety in June, so it feels… normal again. It feels like I normally feel like in fandom, in a place where my imagination can run free and I can be the antithesis of a dude bro: the silly bean sister.

I find it ironic how I every year say I have learned to deal with fandom grief, but this year proved once more that I will never learn. But I think I will have to learn to accept that I won't learn.

Now we are here again, at the 22nd of September. Five years has passed since I uploaded the first chapter to my first fic, and I have 950 000 words uploaded on AO3. Earlier this year I promised myself to beat the delicious one million word count before 2025, and I know I realistically still can do it if I start writing tomorrow and stick to it.

But I will not retire until I have that sweet one million words on AO3. It would be too much of a failure to do so. So, dear sixty something subscribers, followers and other lurkers, expect at least 50k more of Majsasaurus fic in the future.

And yes, you can call me Bex. I don’t want to kill her anymore. I asked her forgiveness for being so angry, especially when I proudly bought a Temari Funko figurine in September. I don’t think I can kill this hyperfixation just yet. I don’t think I even want to kill it.

I can, with confidence, say, that there will be a 6th Majsasaurus Year in 2025, at least in some capacity.

Thank you to those who stopped me from deleting everything.

Majsasaurus Bex

[s-h-i-n-e-y]

Award of the State.

I dont remember how I accidentally landed on the first chord. It wasnt in the power chord like the actual recording. I think underage alcohol was involved.

I had this trick my friend and I would do where one of us would be looking for something and get the cashier's attention while the other one of us grabbed a 4loko out of the beer cooler section, then just set it down on the shelf behind them, while the other person who was chatting up the cashier would go over and grab it, hide it up their flannel sleeve and put it in one of those big fountain drink cups, fill in the space with whatever cheap dark soda and put a lid on it while the other person then had their turn chatting up the cashier asking where something was or asking for the bathroom key or whatever. We were getting 4lokos for large fountain drink prices. Thanks, [redacted pnw convenience store chain].

I digress.

Right. When I wrote this, I was maybe 17. It was the first song that I wrote in that way. Where I take a traumatic experience from my past, turn it into an angry song and all of a sudden it was something seperate from me. It's own thing. And sometimes when I played it at open mics, people would cheer and tip me money about it. It was a tool for compartmentalizing and dealing with shit.

Anyway, that first chord, I think inwas drunk. Fairly certain. 16, maybe 17, 4loko on an empty stomach at 1 in the morning and staring at the finger positions for chords I had scribbled on my inner arm, copied from some the internet thanks to [redacted] local library downtown.

I didnt know shit about music back then, but looking back, I would say I had the

/vibe/

of wanting it in c# but no idea how to express that. So when I tried out that first chord and it was dissonant and shit, I started playing around it with power chords. But yeah.

For the lyrics, I had a spiral bound composition notebook. Red. I was scribbling out random lines related to what I was writing about with no real form or flow. Looking back, the first verse could have been longer and I absolutely could have put more words into it, but the amount of topic therein in such a short amount of time felt like it conveyed the point and feeling properly.

{I'm still working on the animations and shit. Just giving an idea in case this is your first time hearing about the song. I'll update later with the actual song once the album's done and ready}

But yeah, it was rushed, it was simple and to the point and even hurried. And that was on purpose. If you've never been taken away by cps, let me give you an idea:

>be you

> be 7 or so.

> strangers show up in a white van with government plates.

> theres at least 2 burly dudes and always some scrawny "karen fusion-danced with a rude librarian" lady who does all the talking.

> lady explains to your parent(s) that the state is taking you away and who to contact to protest it and try to get you back.

> meanwhile henchman #1 gives you a black 5 gallon trash bag (8 gallon, depending on the economy of the county/town) and tells you to pack up your things.

> they dont tell you that you are getting into that van and that van is going in 5 minutes.

> NO EXCEPTIONS, NO EXCUSES.

> get_in a_van_with_strangers.exe

That's it. The burly henchmen make sure you get in that and that van and goes within those 5 minutes. Theres a reason they got all that muscle.

From there, the chorus seems a little out of place and confusing, yes. Again, I'm using that to simulate the emotion of it all. I dont write this shit just to bitch and make people see what I felt, I write this shit for everyone else who ever went through this to not feel alone, you know?

Like, this traumatic experience being simulated is a song that they can literally pause and stop at any time, unlike the actual experience. When I was writing it at 17, I had no idea, but my partner has since told me that's called "exposure therapy"?

Anyway.

The chorus is just the same chords from the verse just being played by every godamned instrument

[except for the lead guitar playing that fun little riff. Still not sure I'm I'm happy with it, but it's the most fitting riff I've come up with thus far]

and the drums keeping the same fast pace punk beat and beating the shit out of the cymbals while I'm just screaming

"Yeah, I swear I'll be good. Now treat me like you should".

With little context, its confusing, but in traditional knuckle-dragging 4/4

"verse chorus verse chorus bridge chorus" punk. So subliminally, anyone who has heard even Green Day is clocking that this will repeat. It's the chorus. But if you grew up on such low IQ, loud, angry music as I did [I mean these adjectives about music as a compliment, by the way] as I did, your monkey-brain will also clock

"Huh. The name of the song is 'Award of the State' but they did not /say/ award of the state".

You know, so many songs from the era and genre that inspired this shit-ass excuse of a song, the name is also the last line of the chorus, you know? So already I'm laying some groundwork in the back of noggins.

The music calms back down so you know its verse time again. I know, the wah pedal and delay gives a "scooby doo" chase scene vibe and yes I wanted the lead to be doing that. I wanted something that rang of childhood fun times while I'm screaming about traumatic shit, cause I WAS a child when this happened, you know? Which leads me to that 2nd verse.

{Huh. Just made a another little snippet video for it and tumblr has informed me I can only do one of those per post.

Fancy that}

Anyways, verse 2:

"Got tired of that shithole

so I up and left.

When foster mom found me, she took her cigarette,

put it out on my foot, said "it was an accident

but there'll be more if you EVER try that again"

She gave me a scar so I'll never forget:

She wants me home for that social security check.

It didnt feel like anything writing that. I literally didnt feel anything. I've had people approach me after shows and ask

"What the fuck? They gave you a scar 'on accident' and promised there 'would be more' if you tried to run away again?!" all aghast and shit and it's just like

"yeah. Yeah, she did".

Compartmentalization is neither a good or healthy tool when you're living with ptsd and dont have a safe place to fall apart, but when a hammer is the only tool you have, you make do. And I would look back later in life and realize I was doing just that.

But looking back, having found a safe place and a wonderful partner to help me unpack my shit, its like... what kind of vile woman, you know?

She actively gave me a cigarette burn somewhere that wont really be noticed unless you're actively looking for it or aware of it to begin with, told me it was an accident and threatened more of them because if I'm not there when social workers show up and I'm nowhere to be found, she doesnt get the social security check? Fuck.

It goes into the chorus again after that and I'm still keeping the same level on the vocals, trying to sound calm and composed as I can with all that's going on. Then the bridge comes round and things mellow out while I shift to F chord and let it ring out and only move slightly up a half note and back down and such, giving a gross chromatic feel for a few measures and then the lyrics come back in

"They send a social worker every month or so

to make sure I'm fed, make sure I'm clothed.

Foster mom keeps me for the tax rebate, 'cause all I am is an 'award of the state' "

When I was a kid in the foster care system, they were saying "ward".

"A /ward/ of the State".

But being 7 in a podunk town in [redacted county], [redacted state] my vocabulary was lacking and I just assumed they were saying "award". Which made sense, because they're getting that ss check, no? I didnt really feel like there was a place and way of properly explaining that in the song, so it's just gonna be explained here, in the cliffnotes of the physical album and otherwise explained if you ask me after the show over drinks or a cigarette.

It drops into the chorus one last time and this time I'm up an octave and screaming.

"Yeah I swear, yeah I swear, yeah I swear I'll be good!

Now treat me like- treat me like you should!"

I'm a touch desensitized to it all, as stated with compartmentalizing my grief and shit, but how fucked up is that? My inner child literally writing a song so that I can just scream and plead to not be abused and promising I'll behave.

I thought making a song out of it would help.

And I think it did.

Its an outlet to scream that shit out, you know?

You stand on a street corner and scream that shit, someones gonna call the cops or some other agency to pick me up or some shit, but you put guitars, drums and bass behind it and all of a sudden its art.

Guitar strings are cheaper than therapy, after all.

It comes across as self flagellation on an emotional level, sure, but the number of times I've played that and some other poor bastard tells me they were a ward of the state too and start spilling their purse and I'm all fucking ears and offering them a hug and its like

"Yeah. You arent alone, what you went through was fucked up and you're not alone".

That's what I wanted to do for people.

Like, first time I heard Everclear's "Father of Mine" and I was able to scream

"My daddy gave me a name, and then he walked away"

Holy shit. That was fucking cathartic. I could be hurt and wounded and howl along with a song and no one batted an eye. I wanted to do that for other people, you know?

Anyway, the album should be out by August of this year [2025] if all goes well.

I'll be selling physical copies and I havent decided where to post it for digital streaming purposes. Probably myspace, just to be an inconvenience.

[seantheballoon]

Hi.

I thought I'd post something a little more personal and grounded, rather than something preachy or declarative.

My name is Sean and, yes, I consider myself a balloon.

Before I go into what that means though, let me tell you a little about myself first.

I'm gay and genderqueer, and my whole life I've felt "different".

How different, I could never tell but I embarked on a long personal journey to discover the truth.

Along the way I discovered that I'm not only gender non-conforming but also gay, or an "androphile" if you will.

I was assigned male at birth and am sexually attracted to males. I am androgynous in the way I look, act and dress.

It's been incredibly difficult trying to nail down my gender identity but then I realised that I don't really have one.

I still sometimes refer to myself as "male" or a "boy" and my pronouns are he/they, but I don't feel like a man. I never did. I'm genderqueer.

It's been incredibly empowering to be able to declare not only my sexuality but also my gender identity.

I'm gay and I'm genderqueer.

And yet still, something felt uncovered, undeclared, unexplained.

For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed of becoming a balloon.

Why? I have no idea, it was instilled in me at a young age or maybe it was always there, even while still in the womb.

But I grew up with this deep longing to blow up and being surrounded by so many factors, like pregnant family friends or watching cartoons, only fuelled my desire.

I had no idea what body inflation was until well into my teens when I discovered it online after typing in a few keywords.

I finally discovered my "fetish" and soon after began experimenting with real life physical inflation, which I continue to practice to this day.

I won't be uploading any images of my inflation practices though because I want this account to be a place where I can express myself through writing and questions, and, as I soon came to realise, my body inflation fetish is only part of who I am.

Despite years of literally blowing myself up like a balloon, I still felt like something was missing or as though I had missed something.

Even when I was inflated, I still felt inflatable and, internally, I felt massive, like I was destined for more.

Only recently has it become apparent to me that this longing or desire to blow up like a balloon wasn't just sexual, it's multi-faceted.

I can't quite explain it because it touches on so many things and aspects about me.

It feels good to blow up, very good to blow up! But it's not the only sensation that I feel and it's not even the only sensation I experience when I'm not physically inflated.

I feel whole, I feel complete, I feel like myself, and even when I'm not actually inflated I still somehow feel full or as though I'm filling.

It's comfortable, satisfying and empowering.

Emotionally, I feel huge and have felt this way for a long time.

That's when I realised it's not just physical inflation that does it, I always feel round and even in my uninflated state I could feel something bubbling beneath my skin.

Then it hit me: I'm a balloon, I've always been one.

No, I don't see myself as an off the shelf party balloon or that I'm made of latex.

I'm human. As crazy as I might sound, I'm not too far gone to ignore the obvious.

But there's something deeper going on.

I'm a balloon in the sense that I'm always swelling, always feeling full, even when I'm not physically pumping myself up with air.

And in the last few weeks I've felt massive and like I can't stop.

I feel like I'm expanding towards something big and that's part of the reason why I made this blog.

This post is a little more nonsensical than my more formal and thought out declaration that's pinned to my profile, which I actually wrote a few weeks ago, but I just wanted to break the ice with something more grounded, ambiguous and conversational as I could (I'm sorry, I really tried!) as an introductory hello.

It's more of a ramble because really I don't understand half of it myself, I'm only communicating how I feel deep inside but I'm hoping through posting here and positive engagement with others, I hope we can make better sense of it all.

So don't be shy to say hello. I won't burst! At least, not yet.