#i like them but they also might be a bit much.
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hedgehog-moss · 2 days ago
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I was thinking earlier that I find autumn gardening a lot more soothing than spring or summer gardening. Fewer things happen, there's no urgency, you're no longer pressed by strict tomato schedules. In the spring I plant vegetables (daily maintenance, many opportunities for mistakes), in autumn I get rid of broom (there's no wrong way to kill broom) and plant trees (a finite task.) Trees have independent spirits, you plant them and do your best to put them in good conditions and then you're free; but carrots have needs. Vegetables need sisyphean amounts of weeding and watering—not too much but not too little—, I’ve got to check leaf colour to see if I'm doing something wrong (with tomatoes the answer is yes), they get mildewy, they get attacked by insects, they need protection from chickens (it's easier to protect a tree from deer than a courgette plant from hens) and frequent tiny haircuts and sponge baths like royal wives. Things can go wrong with baby trees too but they don't expect you to worry about them every day, they're doing their thing, you're doing your thing.
Also planting trees & the large-scale weeding I do in autumn can be done cleanly if I'm careful, but even with gloves I find it impossible to plant & weed a vegetable garden without getting my hands dirty. At some point or other you just have to touch dirt. When you choose to live a rural life everyone assumes you must enjoy touching dirt with your hands but I do not. It's not a texture thing or a germ thing, it’s just that having dirty hands places an obstacle between me and my books. I didn’t like to make sandcastles on the beach as a kid for this reason, I’ve always been reluctant to touch things that might cling to my skin, like soil or wet sand, because now there’s a wall of glass called rinse your hands between me and the book I carry on my person. This creates a nagging psychological discomfort.
I read a book by a woman gardener last spring in which she says she wouldn't even mind getting no harvest because she feels soothed by the very act of gardening, and I felt bad for gardening in a utilitarian, result-oriented way and not having attained her higher stage of soul development, but in autumn I get it. It's nice to clear an area of brambles and plant a tree and then sit down to read for a bit next to this quiet and friendly entity you planted that doesn't need anything from you in the immediate future. I could do this with no expectations. I have a very different relationship with my spring carrots but that's okay, I've decided I'm an autumn gardener and now that I'm in a category I feel secure.
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d-z20 · 3 days ago
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The Agent Next Door (18+, NSFW)
Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)
Warnings: Blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)
Words: 3.4k
A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol
Read it on AO3
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Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.
You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.
One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 
"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.
At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.
"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.
Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.
"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.
Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.
This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 
You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.
"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"
You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."
She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."
You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"
Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.
"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"
"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.
Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."
You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.
As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.
"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.
"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."
"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.
"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."
The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.
She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."
Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.
"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."
Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.
"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."
You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.
"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.
"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."
"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."
Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."
You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"
She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"
The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."
"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.
-
The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.
"You still awake?" she whispers.
"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.
There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.
"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."
"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.
Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.
"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."
"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."
She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”
-
That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.
When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."
You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."
She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."
You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.
By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.
Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.
You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"
You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.
"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.
"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.
She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."
And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.
When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"
You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."
She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."
And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.
Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 
Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.
Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.
You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."
That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.
You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.
She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.
You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.
With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 
"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.
"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.
_
alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless):
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endursent · 2 days ago
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- My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , angst if you squint(?) , gn!reader 】
【 characters; aventurine , blade , dr. ratio , jiaoqiu , jing yuan , moze , sunday 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; might make more parts, who knows. also two one-shots/fics between gss chapters? in this writing economy? 】
【 word count; 3.303 | read on ao3 】
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Aventurine;
You thought he’d be more agitated than this—usually Aventurine doesn’t stay still for long periods of time, always out and about, as if resting for too long or standing still raises the hairs on his neck as something rapidly approaches from behind him, unseen to anyone else.
  And yet now… he sleeps curled on the sofa in his apartment, you continue to scratch your head over the situation and how to fix it—you tried to ask Dr. Ratio, who you’ve only met once by chance with Aventurine, but he seemed knowledgeable, and you’ve seen some of his theses cited in arguments online…
  But all he replied with to your very concerned and urgent text message from Aventurine’s phone was; “lol”
  So you’re officially on your own, it’s bad enough that Ratio has rejected your plea for help and now knows about this, if it gets out to Aventurine’s coworkers…
  You sigh and plop yourself down on the sofa next to his curled form, yellow-orange fur swaying at your movements as he doesn’t even look up. For a moment, you’re a bit concerned… hopefully he’s still breathing.
  Reaching a hand out, one finger pointed straighter than others, Aventurine suddenly looks up—and closes his jaw around your finger. It’s a gentle hold, not exactly a bite despite the way it looks and the prick of his teeth. You blink at him, he slow blinks at you. “You’re so sleepy,” you note. Aventurine just licks your finger, letting go of it—though it was barely a hold.
  After having gotten what seemed to be a long-awaited proper rest over the span of two days, Aventurine seems to spring to life, not in the way he’s zooming all over the oversized apartment or knocking things over, he just seems very excited to see you when you come home from work—your partner might have turned into a cat for real, but your superior will NOT believe you—he sits on your thighs whether you’re on the couch, by the dinner table, kneeling to fix something under a shelf, anything. 
  He’s usually quite independent, so this somewhat clingy behaviour is surprising, but you don’t entirely mind, his fur is very soft.
  Aventurine didn’t even make a single sound when you bathed him after accidentally spilling some bolognese sauce on his back—he was wandering around your feet and nearly tripped you when you turned around. 
  Perhaps this temporary (hopefully) form has made him more confident in seeking the closeness to you he craves, the need for connection that he’s too reluctant to engage in most times despite being together for so long. 
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Blade;
You squint your eyes open in the darkness of the night, why is it so hard to breathe suddenly? It woke you up, as if there was something hot and heavy on your chest.
  And there is, when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see large flame-coloured eyes staring at you. Blade’s pitch black fur blends into the darkness of the night, but his eyes do not—if you didn’t know better you’d think there were two eyes floating in front of your face, but the body attached to them is very much standing on your chest.
  “... what?” you mumble sleepily, why is he staring at you like that? He doesn’t do this normally… you think. Maybe… does he?
  No response—you’re not sure what to expect, it’s not like he can talk in this form. 
  He does this every night, to a point you’ve started laying on your side so he at least has to stand on the bed. One night, you even reach out and grab him, pulling him into your arms so he’s unable to stand and stare like that. You come out with scratched arms, but it was worth the somewhat peaceful sleep when he finally settles. 
  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s always been in the corner of your eyes, sometimes waiting for you to finish what you’re doing, sometimes just standing there—not necessarily even looking at you or engaging with you in any way. He just likes to stand in the same room. 
  Except now he’s perched on shelves, under sofas or chairs, looming behind a corner so you almost step on him.
  Over time, he becomes a bit restless, but other than hiding away in warm, dark spots… but as you settle into bed, he’s always ready and hops onto your stomach as soon as your back hits the mattress. 
  The other Stellaron Hunters’ reactions range from curious concern to finding it hilarious. Firefly mentioned they have two cat members now, Blade wasn’t very happy about it… the day after she offhandedly mentioned that she could barely sleep and felt like someone was watching her the entire time. You decided not to mention his habit. 
  Blade doesn’t quite follow you at your heel the entire time… but he does always seem to be in the same general area, as he always has. It’s a bit of a relief, you thought you might get lonely without his constant presence. 
  He sometimes doesn’t run off when you pet him. Sometimes. 
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Dr. Ratio;
Ratio is appalled by this development, he hates it. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he can’t communicate properly, and you won’t stop pinching his ears. You’re lucky he doesn’t bite you. 
  He, in his infinite wisdom, developed a way for him to communicate with you. He may be a cat now, but his work doesn’t have space to halt for even a day! And so it’s up to you to continue it under his guidance, because he will not be seen like this by his assistants. 
  His way is quite funny, for complex explanations or lengthy dialogue, he will slap his paws on a holo-keyboard to type it out, but otherwise he presses buttons laid out on one of his workbenches for general commands. “Write”, “Open drawer”, “Fetch tool” (he then vaguely gestures which one), and even “Eat” and “Nap”.
  You asked him if he wanted to add a voice-over to the buttons so you wouldn’t just have to listen to a buzzer made to catch your attention, but he just stared at you blankly.
  You pinch and rub his ears, despite protests.
  To ensure subtlety, he demands you carry him in your bag in and out of the lab and past the reception… and you can’t in good faith deny that it’s adorable to see his head poke out of your bag and squint around to make sure the coast is clear once you’re outside. 
  Ratio had never imagined to hear as absurd of a suggestion as when you asked him if you should ask any of his Intelligentsia Guild colleagues about this, surely they can put their brains together and come up with a solution? 
  Absolutely not, he says, by knocking an empty coffee paper cup over. 
  You caught him staring longingly at his own bathtub and asked if he wanted to take a dip, you can wash him. The idea sounded good… until he stuck his purple paw into the soapy water and felt the spine-shattering feeling of his fur sticking together and immediately wriggled so aggressively out of your grip—startling you of course—that you both went tumbling into the water.
  He sat on his bed, towel under his body and over his back with a traumatised expression on his face for about forty eight minutes straight. Not even an offering of some nice cheese from the fridge brought him out of it. 
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Jiaoqiu;
Different from the rest of the cast, Jiaoqiu has found himself in the form of an extremely furry fox, matched exactly to the colour of his hair. He’s so soft that you can’t help but run your fingers through it, messing up the direction of the coat and requiring Jiaoqiu to stand up and shake himself a few times to right it out. It comes to a point he will nip at your fingers if your hand comes too close.
  One afternoon, you’re wondering where he went off to—he has a chronic tendency to wander off, even in regular foxian form—you go into the pantry to see his tail swaying excitedly, half of his body disappearing into a woven bag of peanuts. Startled for a moment that he might not be able to digest that—you’ve never had to take care of an actual fox before—you hurry towards him and pull him out, holding Jiaoqiu up.
  He screams in such a disturbingly human way you almost drop him. Whether the scream was of surprise or protest is hard to tell.
  You stand in front of him, sat on the divan in your home and try to look stern… but the smile and closed eyes he makes even in this form is so eerily similar to how he normally would with his usual expression that it almost freaks you out. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s basically just a furry version of himself… but it’s too close! 
  And he got away with it too, damn him. 
  Despite the pale pink fur, the tip of his tail and ears, his legs and paws are all dark, and you can’t help but hold them, stroke through the fur through the change of colour and Jiaoqiu—though normally not liking his tail or ears to be touched, in this form he seems to accept it… he can’t lie to you with turning his snout up, you see his tail sway when your hand comes close, despite how he would nip at them before—you’ve cracked the code, smooth the fur back down after ruffling it, and it’s acceptable.
  Don’t think for a second that you’re safe to indulge in any unhealthy habits or dumb decisions even though his “warning smile” is absent, he will bite your pants and pull so hard they might rip. You were about to be roped into some nonsense by Feixiao, seeing the perfect opportunity to borrow you for some “racing”, when Jiaoqiu comes running at breakneck speed, bites your pants, and effectively drags you away.
  Feixiao just watches with a grin. Good luck next time.
  He sulks a bit about not being able to do his job for such an extended period of time, he has a good sense of responsibility and doesn't like to sway from his sworn duties too much.
  Also, he can tell by the smell alone that the food you make for yourself in the absence of his skilled work is severely lacking in critical ingredients, and is also plated wrong. But that’s more of a subjective nitpick—maybe he’s just getting restless.
  He decides to hide one of your shoes and watch in amusement as you search high and low through the house the next morning. Sitting on the carpet with a foxy smile. 
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Jing Yuan;
Jing Yuan is delighted. He plops himself down on you no matter what you’re doing, if there is no surface to curl up, he will lie down by your feet, or anywhere he can be touching you with at least a part of his body. 
  Raking your hand through his thick fur, you pull your hand back and it’s covered in white hairs, he sheds more than Mimi.
  You vehemently vetoed his decision to rename Mimi to Wave-Treading Snow Lion when it began growing and showing signs of not being a grimalkin like he suspected it was.
  Speaking of Mimi, you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight and see the two of them splayed out by the massive windows, artificial sunlight bathing them in warmth as Mimi lies on the floor belly up… and Jing Yuan lies on Mimi’s belly, his own facing up towards the sun. You don’t dare disturb them—mostly because you worry that Mimi will roll over and crush poor Jing Yuan under it. 
  So you set the documents on his desk slowly and sneak back out, the Cloud Knights always present in the room stand still and try not to do more than whisper between themselves.
  If you thought Jing Yuan was sleepy before, you were in for a surprise. As soon as his hands turned to paws, he was lounging around as lazily as he could get away with, which was infinite in this form—perhaps this was the taste of retirement he needed, and it might convince him to go through with it… you hope. For his sake. 
  Unfortunately, your partner is cursed with a perpetual disturbance of his naps, and a problem comes up in regards to an illegal trade of magically-charged artefacts—one of which having the potential to explode if handled wrong, which could hurt innocents during the exchange. He circles the Seat of Divine Foresight like he would normally in thought… except instead of his boots touching the ground in a rhythmic thump, it’s small paws padding on the floor.
  It’s cute—but then again, he’s always cute.
  Thankfully the problem is resolved due to the Cloud Knights having previously acquired knowledge of suspicious movements over the last weeks and are able to intercept the exchange.
  As a reward for his hard work, you make a big bowl of juicy fruits for him to dive into—though Mimi’s snout got in before him, and stole about half of it… you snooze you lose, dozing general. 
  Of course, he didn’t let you off that easy, cuddles were demanded with headbutts and loud meows of protest if you turned to do anything else, so you were stuck with two cats hogging your attention for the rest of the night, good thing you have two hands to scratch behind both of their ears at the same time.
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Moze;
You thought for a moment he didn’t actually retain his senses, and had ran off somewhere, you dragged Feixiao with you to search the entirety of the Xianzhou Yaoqing… only to return home several hours later, exhausted and disappointed, to see Moze sitting on the kitchen counter with a fish in his mouth, tail swaying contently as he ate it off the bones.
  He would just randomly wander off and return at odd times, once you saw some blood on his paw and worried he had hurt himself, but no matter how you looked or poked and prodded, there was no wound. It must have been the capture of another fish or another… because, surely, Feixiao doesn’t have him doing work like this?
  You suppose it’s quite a good cover… no one would suspect a cat…?
  After locking him in your room for the workday to ensure he doesn’t go off somewhere, as you had asked an elder of the Alchemy Commission to come over and have a look at him, you came back with the old man to find the room empty.
  Given cat form, Moze has become the perfect escape artist—not that there’s much anyone can do to hold him down in his normal form. 
  Try as you might, it becomes somewhat of a game of you trying to keep him in one single place, and him disappearing like a leaf on the wind, only to show up later with a treat… usually for himself, but once he brought you a pouch of sesame balls. You hope he paid for it somehow, but you don’t hold your breath either.
  He sleeps exclusively by your feet, circles a few times and wriggles into a comfortable position against either leg that’s closer. You tried to get him to sleep closer to your torso or on your inviting arm, but he always stood up and returned to the spot by your legs after a few minutes. 
  One time, you were stroking his tail absentmindedly and accidentally pinched it only slightly—yet he still jumped into the air like you had just stepped on it with a loud yeowl, making you yourself jump as he suddenly sped off across the room and almost slammed himself into the door leading to the study.
  You decided not to play with his tail after that, he even left scratches on the floor with his hurried scuttling across the room. 
  You spotted Jiaoqiu trying to feed him some of the ‘concoction’ he was making, which Moze sniffed curiously at—but you’re fairly certain there are not many things in that broth that will settle well—or at all—in his kitty stomach, and thus you swoop in and feign extreme interest in Jiaoqiu’s dish. Of course, the foxian sees through you easily and smiles widely. “Ah, why don’t you try it then?”
  You got yourself into this position, and so, you resign yourself to burnt taste buds for the next few hours. It’s delicious as always, but your poor mouth… Moze rubs his furry head against your legs in comfort. 
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Sunday;
He couldn’t believe it. Sunday stared at himself in the reflecting mirror of the Astral Express’ windows for about ten whole minutes after being brought back to it in the state he was in. His ears flatten to his head and he glares at anyone that tries to approach, he doesn’t want to interact with anyone like this!
  He flees to his room and stays under the bed for several hours before you manage to lure him out with some delicious smelling grilled fish. Sunday reluctantly pokes his head out to grab it—which is when you grab him. 
  He flails and meows, struggling and squirming as you pick him up and stand… only to coo at him and rub his cheeks with your thumbs, musing how cute he is.
  Cute?! This is a horror scenario! 
  Despite his displeased meowing and nibbling on your fingers when you try to pet him, Sunday eventually gives up when he learns that you just find his struggling adorable. Suddenly your staring when he gets annoyed with small things start to make sense. Like when he hit his head on the ridge of a table after bending under it to fetch a pen he dropped, and the brief surge of frustration and annoyance he felt—only for you to swoop in to rub his head and see if it hurt. 
  He sulks the entire time, he doesn’t like it one bit. 
  March asks him if she can put him in outfits like she does with Pom-Pom, and he strategically avoids her for several days. Not a chance. 
  Thankfully, despite you ‘tormenting’ him on the first day, Sunday does seek comfort in you… you’re warm, and somehow you know exactly where to scratch behind his ears and under his chin where he can’t quite reach well enough. 
  You almost pull him in and rub your face into his furry torso when Sunday kneads at your shirt when you lay down to sleep, but decide that watching him is much cuter. You get such cuteness aggression when he does the smallest things. He purrs when you massage his paws or draw your fingers all the way down his back—and get a fistful of hair while you’re at it—and eventually he starts to do it at the smallest gestures… Pom-Pom once brought up concerns to Himeko that they thought that the train might have a problem, some kind of motor malfunction.
  Turns out Sunday was napping in the warm engine room and purring so loudly that when Pom-Pom leaned close to his hiding spot, they thought it was the engine. 
  He doesn’t let anyone pet him properly except you, not because he doesn’t trust the rest of the Express members—trust is a strong word in any case—but because when he closes his eyes in comfort, he wants to open them again and see you stroking through his fur. Nothing personal, though March does take it a bit personally.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago
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How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)
Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.
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Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.
He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.
He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.
‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.
‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.
‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.
‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.
Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.
He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.
‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.
‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.
Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.
However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’
Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.
‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.
‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.
‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.
‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.
‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’
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pit-rat · 8 hours ago
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tbf a lot of them might not be going to uni to actually learn something?
like idk how other ppl feel but it really does feel like it's basically mandatory to get all those degrees and shit just to have a chance at finding a job, so maybe a lot of people see it that way. Like "whatever, i'm here for the degree not because i actually give a shit"
so i feel like if i were born just a bit later and i was in that position i would probably also not care that much and use chatGPT to "cheat" my way through school as well
I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:
I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"
One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."
I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"
A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.
A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.
There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??
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hotvintagepoll · 3 days ago
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Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!
PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.
YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP
(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)
This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.
Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.
Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.
Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.
Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.
Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).
Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.
Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.
Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.
Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).
Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?
enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3
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rpgchoices · 2 days ago
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Davrin's past and his Dalish clan and his vallaslin (all mentions I could find)
So much in the game is hidden behind banters between companions (which is ahhhh a bit annoying) so I compiled all the banter and information I found about Davrin's past.
Not really plot spoilers, just Davrin spoilers.
At the end I will summarize everything in a bullepoints list.
Bellara and Davrin banter:
Text here (link)
There are also a few other banters I did not record where it is implied Davrin does not care about the gods or some other late game revelations. The only thing he cares about (and mentions again later in game, in a main scene) is how people see Dalish and elves, and how to minimize the risk of humans hating elves even more.
Taash and Davrin's banter (text in description for each image)
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Davrin's quests information:
Here are other mentions from Davrin first quest: Rook: How did it go? Davrin: Poorly. They felt like I rejected them. Rook: Did you? Davrin: Yeah, I suppose. Clan life wasn't for me. I had to get away. Rook: So then what happened? You're out in the world, looking for adventure… Davrin: Got my ass kicked. Went broke. Davrin: I couldn't go crawling back to my clan a failure. Doubt they'd take me back. It forced me to figure out what I was good at. Always had a knack for hunting.
Other info we get from the Halla quest is that: Davrin spent summers tending Halla as a kid alongside Eldrin, who is not his uncle, but like an uncle. So this is a case of Davrin wanting to spend time with Hallas, or being made to by his clan. Eldrin's vallaslin is Ghilan'nain:
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So it could be that Davrin's new vallaslin might be Ghilan'nain too. But I think it is Andruil's or a mix of the two.
Davrin could have gotten the vallaslin to honor Eldrin (we know he is the only member of his clan - if he is part of his clan - Davrin has no trouble contacting, even if they seem to have not met each other's in a while). But we also know Davrin was a hunter.
Eldrin was also the one who taught Davrin what to hunt basically. In his first quest Davrin says "When I was a kid, I'd hunt just about anything. Rabbits, deer, fox. Eldrin gave that purpose. Taught me the Way of Three Trees. The Way of the Arrow, Way of the Bow, Way of the Wood."
This is from Andruil and if we look at all three vallaslin:
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Emmrich and Davrin:
(they have some discussions about Davrin not believing in the Fade or liking it, this is the one which mentions the Dalish clan)
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There are also a few other banters at the Lighthouse that mention the Fade and the sky. Mainly they are about Davrin being uncomfortable with the open space and stuff about him disbelieving the Fade: "Good. Because it's not the sky. Emmrich says it's the Fade. Me, I don't know what to think."
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Final banter with Davrin:
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So basically, the summary of what we know for certain is:
Davrin left his clan voluntarily because he felt restless, he did not care about tradition and lessons, and he wanted to see the world
He felt like he did not fit in his clan since he was a kid
He was also hunting everything he could find until Eldrin taught him the way of the Three Trees and to protect life by hunting darkness (monsters)
Eldrin is like an uncle for him and lives isolated (unsure if he is part of Davrin's clan) and Davrin used to spend summers helping him with the hallas
Davrin feels like he pissed off his clan, he rejected them and both Davrin and Bellara agree it would be hard for him to go back
In another dialogue, he says he actually did not think the clan would take him back at all even if he crawled back asking for help ("Like a failure" he says)
He does not regret joining the Grey Wardens and looking for adventures, but he seems to regret that came at the cost of leaving the clan and not being able to return or keep in contact with them
Also, he says the outside world was different from what he imagined
PART 2 HERE
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zenlesszonezero · 10 days ago
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Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.
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xinganhao · 14 hours ago
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🌸 jihoon x poetry account!reader.
the one where jihoon reads all the poems you think he'll like. headcanons & bonus content under the cut. ➤ see also: svt burner accounts series
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🌸 jihoon and the languages of love .ᐟ
jihoon claims: he can live without receiving gifts. he's never been particularly materialistic to begin with. he appreciates the bits and bobs he gets from fans, although he will also be the first to insist that no, you don't have to do this for him. spend your money on something more 'important'. save for a rainy day. he is fine without it; he is happy to just be remembered.
this is the same jihoon who will wear the socks he was given until there are holes in them. (even then, he'll try to hold on to, believing they serve their purpose.) jihoon who keeps all the gift tags from presents tucked away in a shoe box underneath his bed. jihoon who, with every poem you tweet, feels like he's receiving a little gift in itself.
jihoon claims: he's not a fan of physical touch. a lot of his members have chipped at his distaste for skinship over the years, but even then, he's not the type to seek out affection that way. he will indulge fans at fan signs. hold their hands when they ask. still, it is not something on the top of his mind when he thinks of the word 'love'.
this is the same jihoon who will stick to his members' side when they're out someplace unfamiliar. jihoon who will bear the weight of his twelve brothers' crushing bear hugs with little to no complaint, his expression exasperated but impossibly fond. jihoon who, when you mention loving the lyrics of hug, wonders briefly what that might be like— to share something like that with you.
jihoon claims: he doesn't deserve acts of service. he reasons that it's because he's nobody special. he's just a guy, not anybody you have to expend too much energy on. and he's an adult, at that, one who has always viewed himself as independent and self-sufficient in day-to-day. it's alright, he'll say. i can do it myself.
this is the same jihoon who almost cries when he realizes a blanket had been tucked over his shoulders during his sleep. jihoon who remembers like the back of his hand the snacks that his members love, the birthdays of all their own families, the names of their pets. jihoon who feels a dull ache in his chest when he thinks of people like you and what more he can do to keep you around.
jihoon claims: he's terrible with quality time. he's busy, always so busy, spending more time in his studio than anywhere else in the world. he works like he has more than just 24 hours in a day. he feels guilty at this one in particular, at the knowledge that he can only give so much of his already portioned minutes. it's the life he chose, though, and he takes care to remind himself of that every day.
this is the same jihoon who has a special ringtone set for the people he loves so no matter how deep he is in his work, he will know when he has to look up and check. jihoon who purposefully carves out time to respond to texts or meet up with someone, even if it's only for half an hour. jihoon who lets himself be selfish, lets himself be just a teensy bit greedy, when he doom scrolls through the poems you leave him. (five minutes more, he'll barter with himself. just five minutes more, please.)
jihoon claims: he could be better with words of affirmation. he tends to be blunt with his words, which may sometimes be interpreted as coldness. he jokes around sparingly. he doesn't have the cutesy text-speak, the suave pickup lines of the other members. there are days, even, when the three words that matter the most catch in his throat. when all that comes out is a helpless, flustered stutter of i— i— i— love you.
this is the same jihoon who means every damn lyric he writes. jihoon whose entire discography of love, and heartbreak, and yearning, and home, and family, is made with specific faces in mind. jihoon who stutters and stammers when it comes to saying things outright, so when it comes to you, he borrows words from people who say it better than he can; he loans quotes and phrases and lines, hoping that somehow it will all still reach you. he can be more fluent in these languages of love, he knows. but he trusts that you can hear and see what he means all the same.
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BONUS CONTENT .ᐟ
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⌗ ┆this is a slight homage to one of my favorite twitter accounts ever, poemsfornamjoon. i like to believe jihoon would also love a good poem (´• ω •`) ♡! hcs were also heavily inspired by this tweet (THE ENTIRE THREAD!!!), which i think of A Lot when it comes to jihoon: "woozi is always like, i'm so sorry i can't say saranghae. i can only write, compose and produce 100+ songs and counting for our band. i can only maintain a vast mental encyclopedia of 12 people's little things. wooahae. wooahae. wooahae. wooahae. wooahae. wooahae"
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thatfrailsoul · 2 days ago
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– If you love me, then love me from the heart
tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )
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pictures from pinterest → one, two, three
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Slow down for a moment. Give your conscious mind a moment of rest, allow it to step back. Instead, listen to your subconscious mind, to that inner voice, to the intuition that is guiding you to the pile in which your message hides. A message about the love that your heart is longing for. The one that you are hoping to find…
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This is our third reading from our divination jukebox, inspired by possibly one of the most beautiful songs that I've ever heard - "Yağmur Yağar Taş Üstüne" by Mustafa Güzel and Batuhan Fırat (feat. Belkıs Güzel). I'm so deeply grateful for the person that suggested this song and gave us the possibility not only to discover it, but also to have such a deep and tender message through this reading. It is difficult to find the correct translation for this song, but I strongly encourage you to listen and read it, as it is simply magical in the softest way. I will leave you the links that were recommended to me here, in case you would like to listen to it. And if you would like to see a pick a pile reading inspired by your favourite song, you can discover more about how to participate here↓♡!
♪♡♪ Divination Jukebox ♪♡♪
P.s. This is my first attempt at a longer reading, so if you feel comfortable please let me know in the comments what you think of it! If you prefer the shorter ones, if there is any aspect of the reading that makes it difficult for you to read it, or in case you will take a look at the extended version of this reading, if you would prefer to have something more specific in the additional messages of our readings - I will cherish your opinion and use it to get better with each post!♡
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– Pile One,
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{ The love that you are longing for }
the magician, the seven of swords, the page of coins
Love… you so often consider it just a feeling. A feeling that after all these years alive you still can really connect only to your own self. To you who seems to be the only one to feel it. To give it. While all that others do is receive it from you. Giving you back some gratitude perhaps, but never something that feels like what you gave them. Nothing that really fills in that part of you that was emptied for them… Making you really wonder if perhaps you got it wrong for all this time, if what you considered love never was it. If you imagined and expected it to be more, made it be more. Giving others much more than any person could ever give you in return, more than you ever should've done…
All that attention, that care, that genuine dedication that you put in, time after time, for every soul that was close, going out of your way to be there, right by their side for whatever might come… But still standing alone when facing your hardships, your difficult moments. Only you on the first line, out there in the cold, just you against this world… You genuinely never thought that this is what love would be. You expected something different from what you always received from others before. A complete opposite of having to do everything on your own, of that fear of what will happen to you if one day things in your life won't work anymore. You thought that it should be different from that because you know for sure that all those years of struggle alone never had even a bit of love in them, not from the people that were all that time around and close to you, but never did anything to help you, apart from telling you that this is how it works and that you should grow and take care of yourself on your own.
You alway imagined it, in those dark and painful nights, a hug, a caressing hand, a soft voice that assures you that everything will be okay, that it won't be forever this way, that you are not alone but you will always have them… So you did your best to be deserving, manifesting those tender and loving ways through your own self. Through the way you looked after others, the way you cared for them. Not only knowing that this is the right way to treat others, the way you genuinely want to be, but that it will be also worth it, that you will one day feel the love you gave, through others that will do the same… But it never came. You never saw your reflection in them, you never saw that part of your heart that you gave away being nourished and taken care of… it was always mostly just appreciated in the moment. And forgotten. Or worst, taken advantage of by expecting or asking more. So after all these tears, all the days dedicated to others instead of yourself, all your prayers for help and support, just a little comfort, that you never received because they are too busy to take a moment to give you back that love that you never declined them…. You started to think that you are in the wrong. That the love you always waited for is just a dream that the real concept of love can’t live up to. No matter how much you can look for it or want it. It is simply not something possible. And you are asking for too much.
{ What this is all for }
the judgement, the ace of swords, the lovers
This world, this life in general… has a really unique way of helping us to learn, of guiding us in or through the right direction and path, of letting us know that everything will be alright… Their language is so different from ours that we really struggle to understand it, those words that come in the form of pure feelings directly from within us. The ones that we should trust the most but never do so. Especially when it comes to love, something that we so much idealise, something that we have so much desire for.
Your heart is so sincerely tired, it went through so many betrayals and wounds inflicted by those that you tried to love. To the point that it simply feels that heaviness, that weight of this experience that you never really wanted to begin with. So you feel like you are ready for something else, for that love that you did all of this for, if it even exists at all. But are you really sure of it..? Of knowing so well the person that you would like to have by your side each day, their character, their behaviour, their values? Are you sure that you really did look for them and not just anyone who seemed to be able to love? Are you sure that you really know your worth and the one of your love, how one must love you in order to really give you all that your heart needs and wants? Or did you think that you knew it before, and now you are settling for much less than you are deserving of, because of the overwhelming loneliness and fear that it will be this way for the rest of your days unless you accept whatever one gives you in return? Are you sure that you are remaining loyal to your own self and your soul, instead of trying to “sell” it to whoever is close and good enough?
Because, even though perhaps you are not doing it consciously, but you are changing. Little by little. Not in terms of who you are, but in the ones of who you allow others to consider you. Leaving it up to them to decide how much you deserve, what is the worth of your love and care that you give them after letting them in, where only the most sincere, genuine and trustworthy should belong. You just give them your all. Every single time. Without any limit or hesitation. Not even when all that you receive is another rude phrase, some judgement, coldness and distance once they got up and healed thanks to your love. You just do it. For everyone. Not choosing carefully, but treating every soul as the right one. And not in a good sense. Instead, you are not listening anymore to your own intuition or feelings, not trusting your own mind that recognises the things that are too off. You are just rushing in this hunt for “the one” as the time passes and you feel more and more scared and alone. You are throwing yourself at every possible connection, all in, wandering each time that it goes wrong what you did too little or too much of. And not realising anymore that it is not about how you love, if it is in the right way or the wrong one… But rather who you choose, even force yourself, to love. And how they are simply not the right one, no matter how much you sacrifice of your own values and preferences, just to make them fit in the place that it is not theirs to hold.
All these bad endings, failures, mistakes that you consider yours to be responsible for… Are just a natural consequence of you settling for less than you really desire and need in order to feel loved. All that sadness, that loneliness… are only your subconscious, your own heart that you willingly ignored at first, but that after some time managed to be heard by you, letting you know that the way you are treated, the crumbs that you accept, will never truly be enough.
Those endings, those coincidences that are never in your favour, those interferences in your connections from the outside world… are just its efforts to protect you and communicate with you, trying to show you that refusing your own standards is not what can help you find them, that right person that you can truly feel safe and understood with… Adapting to another person and changing, it is not what will make them love you like you want. It will only keep you stuck in a play pretend. Put you in situations and relationships that you won’t feel appreciated and cherished in. It will consume you from inside out, slowly but surely, just because that one time you believed more others, than your own self that always knew what was best and right for you, what you really wanted to feel and who you wanted to have with you…
The time already passed, you already got through so much. You can’t do anything about it, and it is alright. But you can do yourself a favour and listen again to your own heart, before following that overwhelming fear and anxiety of being left alone in the cold and the dark. Your heart, your love, they are unique. But not at all the only ones. There is a soul, out there, that is your perfect reflection, someone who resonates so much with your ways of feeling love. And you can and will find them. The moment you stop seeing all that happened and you went through as the mistakes you made, ways that you can be better by being more or less… And start to see them as simply were and when the things didn't feel right for your heart, for who you are. Because those things that you felt the lack of, or perhaps as though it is just too much, are the ones that you need to hold onto, to look for in others. Instead of ignoring them, just so you can fit in the perfect version of love of someone and they can accept you, even though you are not theirs to love…
Although it seems so easy to do through words… We know too well that sometimes it is not enough to just choose to listen to our heart more. It is not always enough when we, in a certain way, forget its language, when we are not able anymore to comprehend it and separate it from the voice of our mind that we learned to follow… For this reason, there is an additional message for you, if you want to, in our extended version of this reading. What you need to know and remember as you continue on this journey, in this search of the right person for you, but also of the confidence and trust in your own heart, that will be the things that will change everything about the situation in which you are now.♡↓
{ a little message for you }
– Pile Two,
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{ The love that you are longing for }
the wheel of fortune, the sun, the devil
It happened so many times… So often you felt overwhelmed, completely overtaken, by the life of someone you loved… Their problems, their difficulties, their fears that became yours. Yours to resolve, yours to take care of, yours to endure, even though you never could really influence them, not the things that depended on their actions, their decisions. Not when it was something that was purely theirs to create, destroy and live… It happened so many times, truly. You felt so often the urge to be there for someone, just because you knew them, just because you saw their struggle and couldn't help but to try to save them. Because this is what everyone deserves, yes… But with those that had a special place in your heart, those that you felt so close to you, so needed as the air you breathe, there never was a chance for you to say no. Not when your heart so ardently fought for them each day, no matter if it was your battle, your victory to take or not.
One by one they took a part of your life from you, gladly accepting your love, your support and help. And leaving it all to you, to your heart and mind that never were supposed to live so many lives, go through so many situations and emotions, bear so many consequences that were coming from actions that simply weren't yours. And they took it from you. That time and energy, the courage and strength that otherwise would have gone to you, to your own healing, growth and protection. They took it all from you and, worst of all, they were able to do so thanks to you. You who gave it to them, all that you had, in the name of the love that you felt. You that not even once regretted it. Not in the moment at least…
They took so much from you, making you get used to it, to have so little, to give away so much… That now, for once, you want to find someone different. Someone who will not take advantage of your heart. Someone who will understand that, no matter how much you want and try, it is not the right thing to leave it all up to you, to handle their life… Someone who, for once, just knows more, knows better. Someone who can teach you, gently, softly, as they protect you from your own self, from your own urge to disintegrate yourself for the happiness and safety of someone else.
For once… you want to be overwhelmed by someone's joy, their hope, their desire to be here and to live this life. Their strength to choose to see the best aspects of the things. Their strength to be patient, to have faith, to believe that everything will work out in the end. For once you want to receive that strength, not to give it away. For once you want to be protected, guided, as you trust someone who doesn't expect you to lead the way out of the darkness of their days…
It might sound selfish to some, so entitled to look for someone who has it all figured out, who has better and more control of their life… But you are simply tired. And a little lost, if one can say the truth. Tired of figuring everything out constantly, keeping others above the water, as they push you down, never thinking of the air they are taking away from you. It’s not about an easier life, about receiving constant help or guidance, leaving it up to others to make the choice for you… It is about just wanting to have something that is left for your own self too. A little time, a little love, that you can give yourself without being afraid that in the meantime someone would get upset or hurt. You just want to be able to take care of yourself too, not only of those that you love, of your connections, of your situations, that seem to be destroyed each moment you are not looking after them. You just want to have someone that is by your side, living their life, instead of living yours that becomes so scarily about them, their necessities, their dreams, their worry and losses. You just want someone to learn from, or together, how to live this life in the most right and healthy, loving way. Not to teach it. While you yourself don't have any idea of how you are still here, how you made it until now every day.
{ Will you ever find someone like them }
the justice, the eight of wands, the queen of wands
This new and almost desperate desire in your heart now, might feel a lot like frustration, the last realisation of how things should've been when everything already happened, when it is too late to change them… But instead of a tragic end, it is more of a hopeful and promising beginning. The one that you are creating with your each thought, with each moment of understanding of what it is that you really want to feel, when sharing your love. The taste of it, the feeling, the emotions it can give you. With each found answer in your heart you are changing your life, much more than you expect now. Because it really is all about your choices. Your decision of who you will be accepting into your life from now on.
There is a part of you that is growing, getting stronger, preparing to be vigilant and serious about its duty: the one to protect your heart. One little thought created by the tiredness, the sadness of all that you endured… was enough to move the waves of the whole world, of the reality around you. Of who will be brought right to you, and who will be pulled back, not being the right ones. Changing your connections one step, one person at a time. Giving you back the right to decide for yourself, making you remember that you can in fact do it, you can choose the ones dear to your heart.
And it won’t be delusion, entitlement, selfishness, or any sort of limit that you will put on your heart… It will be just you, all grown up, who will now know that it is okay to not take it all on yourself, whatever and whoever comes, because of the fear of what not doing it will cause. It will be your understanding that people can and will make it through on their own, even if they are so afraid or feel incapable of facing their life right now. And it will be also your acceptance that not every story you hear is yours to live, to feel, to make sure it has a good ending. Not everyone is yours to protect and help. Not everyone has the right to come before your own self.
It might be a change that will take its time to settle in, especially in your heart that is just so full of love. Love that you didn't give yourself for so long, pouring it all in the needing hands of those by your side. But it will happen. It will feel safe and right, to allow yourself to choose how much the realities of others influence your life. And as you will go through it, as you will seek that courage and strength… It will be enough to remember that everything will be okay. Even in those moments of uncertainty, it will be enough to hold on tight to the message that we will receive, if you want to, in the extended version of this reading. A message about how you can and will change your life.♡↓
{ a little message for you }
– Pile Three,
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{ The love that you are longing for }
the ten of wands, the star, the death
It is so difficult to need to explain yourself, your actions, your urges, your reactions. It is tiring to open up your mind and your heart sharing them with others, again and again. Just for them to not understand it, to not pay the slightest of attention, to not take it seriously, all those things that are still consuming your soul… It just feels so useless to go through it, to come out of your comfort zone so hopeful that they would be that right person… only to see them walk away, who scared, who uncomfortable, who deluded or bored. Leaving you feeling like a poor seller who is unable to demonstrate the worth of your broken, lived, soul. When you don't even want to do it in the first place. When it is so ridiculous that you need constantly and so fiercely to defend or explain your wounds, as if they didn't already hurt enough.
It just consumes you. Consumes your every desire to go out there, interact and try to connect with people, creating with such dedication a relationship that - you know it too well - will just be destroyed. By your own past, your own frail soul that is too difficult for others to manage, to use or control. Too delicate to do anything with it without hurting it more.
Deep down you know that not every single person you met was truly so evil at their core. But it still hurts you like hell, being rejected, just put aside, simply because of the way you feel so strongly and deeply every detail about this world. Just because you have more depth to your feelings, more power to the emotions that simply overwhelm you, good or bad, every single bit of them that fills you whole. And that you welcome and feel completely, still remembering how cold and dark it was when there weren't any emotions in you at all.
It just would've been much easier, for once, to not have the need to defend yourself, the way you became. If for once the one in front of you focused on who you are now, and not on who you were or who you could become if only you suppress your soul. Because you changed, yes, and it might be sad to not have that spark that others adored so much about you anymore. But the you who survived still and always deserves the same admiration and love, perhaps even more, after all that you were able to endure. This you who is so different is still you. The you who gave you the strength and courage to face it all. The you who shouldn't at all be forced to explain yourself to those that can't even do one thing: just listen to you, hear you truly, at least for once.
Because it is not so difficult, in the end, to just accept someone and love them for the way they are, without any if or but. You know it well, because you always did it and always do with everyone that is close to you. But while they can be themselves, knowing that they will be truly safe with you, their every wound that will be taken care of without any judgement or expectation to receive something in return… You are always asked to be less or more. To hide your pain, to be more joyful. To not react too much to the things that hurt you. To, instead, be more understanding and patient, accepting, of the ways of others. Even though they never tolerate yours.
So you remain here, among so many of them but still feeling so lonely, so trapped, exactly like it used to feel before. You still are being hurt, even though you had so much courage in not hiding yourself, your scars. Even though you learned to have the needed strength to stand your ground when others didn't see that they were stepping on your heart… And you still hope. That one day, somewhere and someone, for once will just feel drawn to you. Not a memory of you or your potential change. Just someone who, for once, is gentle and kind in their ways. Not because you asked them to, not because they were forced by your tears… But just because they are connected enough to their own heart. Enough to recognise the painfully familiar stories behind your tired and scared eyes. Just one person, just one single time would be enough. Just one single moment in which you would feel loved and cherished the way you are, even with all those fears and doubts that everyone has always something to say about. Just one true and genuine connection. One single chance for your heart to find again the hope that you, exactly the way you are now after all your battles, not less not more, will be enough.
{ You are not in the wrong }
the page of coins, the strength, the six of cups
Finally standing up for yourself, taking your defence, pushing back those that don't make you anymore feel safe… it took a lot of courage, especially when every decision that was already hard enough was also met with judgement, with pure rage, just because for once you weren't ready to be there for someone else. But while you thought that the worst part will be this, finding the strength to prioritise yourself, the most difficult part revealed itself to be resisting the urge to take all your words back, bowing your head, surrendering to discourses of others about how you shouldn't ever do that again, and coming back to your old and consumed self, asking it to endure it once again. But this time with the full awareness of how it is wrong, to give away so much of you, remaining with so little that it is never enough to take care of your own heart and mind…
You are resisting it now with all your strength, but the single thought that they might be right, that you are indeed acting too selfishly, is already enough to shake you to your core, to fill you with the pure terror that you might be becoming one of those that hurt you, coming down to their level without realising what you've done.
But you are not. I promise you. There is nothing wrong in putting yourself first for once. There are no mistakes when you are acting from your heart, from the pure desire to protect yourself now that you are realising that it all just has been too much. You are not the villain here, even if perhaps there isn't one among them either. There is no evil in knowing what you deserve and want, and not accepting nothing less from others, even if they so perfectly mask it with words like “It is the way I love”, “This is the best for you, the best you can ever find or hope for”...
You’ve endured a lot, so much that it is truly non conceivable and admissible that someone belittles it. That someone doesn't give it the importance and incredibly powerful and heart wrenching meaning that you surviving all of that holds. Don't stop for them, for their fears that you will change. Because it has already happened, in the good and in the bad. And if someone can't accept and respect the new you, if they, even in the name of their love, can't accept you… then it is okay. There will be someone else. Someone else who will meet you, get to know you, and learn to appreciate and cherish you for the way you are now, not a memory of who you were.
It might be sad to let go of some people, to lose some connections. It might be frustrating to see their absolute conviction that you are the one in the wrong… But you are tired now, you feel weak after needing to fight against them again and again just to protect yourself… so don't waste your last remaining energy on them, on proving them wrong when they already ended this story as it is more convenient for them in their head. Let them go. Let them be. Not to allow them to think that they are right. But for your own self and to give you that space and time to rest and recover, to take care of yourself.
This world is vast, there are so many of us. Remaining now for a moment alone… doesn't at all condemn you to have all the days of your life lonely and cold. It is just a phase, just a precious moment that will sign a new step in your growth, in how much you consider your own worth and protect yourself at all costs. People come and go. Some are good and some are not. But you are unique, you are the only one you have, the most important person that you need to love and take care of. Even if it means to not accept the love of others, simply because it is so different from what you are longing for. Even if it means to reject the company that you so much want, because they never offer it genuinely but only when it is so convenient and needed for them.
Times will change, you'll start new journeys, go through different paths that will align with others, new and completely different persons. And you'll create new connections, better ones. Better because of the ways and motives of those that will come closer. Better because you will be much more rested, healed and confident after this focus on yourself and this pause. Better because there won't be any play pretend, endurance or feelings that will be ignored. It will be better. Simply because you will learn from your mistakes, you will grow. And so will those that you will let go of, but not at your own expense and endurance of the way your heart hurts for them. Because they might not realise it now, they might be so convinced that you are the one hurting them… but you are making the best decision not only for your own self, but even for them. You are giving all of you a new chance. A chance that you for sure will take and use it to nourish a new beginning in your life, new connections that will love you, cherish you, protect you at all costs. Exactly like it should be between truly loving souls.
And if it feels still a little too overwhelming, a little too scary and unsure, the decision to put yourself first… There is a little message about the future, at what it holds, in our extended version of this reading, right here, if you want or feel the need to hear more.♡↓
{ a little message for you }
_
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lacesoflove · 3 days ago
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NOW SHOWING: NSFW ALPHABET
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WARNINGS — afab!reader. y/n has no racial/ethnic marker but does have curly hair. nsfw content. mentions of drug usage. also, the dirty secret headcanon might be gross to some.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — wrote this after i lost all my draft fics and before i rewrote them so i used this as a way to get into writing again. not proofread properly and again, these are my headcanons. Also snuck a lyric from Gigi Perez’s Sailor Song somewhere in here, somehow.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Hyperattentive towards you after sex. Will always run a bath or shower for both of you (or just you if you want some distance), if you have no leftover energy for a shower/bath, he’ll clean you up with a soft towel after leaving you in ruins and both of you will eventually just cuddle next to each other or watch Netflix together or have a session together.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Wouldn’t really say he’s insecure but he doesn’t particularly have a favourite of his own, besides maybe his curls (which don’t really count) until you come along and teach him how to love himself a bit more. He likes any part of his body that brings you pleasure, so i.e his hands, thighs and cock.
He likes your eyes and how they hold so much love for him. He also likes your curls because they mirror his own and he likes seeing that similarity between you both. He also likes your tits. Like a lot.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Deathly afraid of having kids, at the current stage, so when y’all are getting to business it’s definitely wrapped before you get tapped. But in the few and far in-between incidents where the notion of using a condom has been abandoned, this man is cumming on you. He loves seeing your tits painted in his seed.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Enjoys kissing you after either one of you has given the other oral. It might be gross, but the concept of mixing each other’s juices makes it feel like you're both fusing together in a sense. At least that’s how his line of logic works.
Also has a secret mommy/daddy kink depending on the day, and whether or not he’s feeling more dominant or submissive. Definitely had to excuse himself to the nearest bathroom when you called him daddy/asked to be called mommy as a joke.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Experienced enough to get a good idea of the female body and its anatomy, but doesn’t feel like he’s experienced enough to be overly confident.
…Even though the amount of orgasms you’ve had at the hand of this man says otherwise.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary or whenever you ride him. He, as aforementioned, likes your eyes, hair and tits and these positions allow him to make eye contact as well as watch your tits and hair bounce to rhythm of his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
When sober, he’s definitely too enamoured with you and the entire moment to laugh or be goofy, although that’s not to say that the moment is too serious or that either of you don’t let out little chuckles here and there. Both of you are just too whiny to let out anything other than moans most of the time.
When high? Oh, this man cannot take a single thing seriously. Everything sends him to a fit of giggles because he’s just so happy to have you like that.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
.
We’ve all seen his leg hair at this point. He’s hairy and will only really bother to groom at your request. He also has a happy trail that definitely makes you happy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Deep down, he’s a hopeless romantic, so he loves those quiet moments together that let you feel how much he cares and he’ll always try to bring an element of soft, gentle and pure love even when he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t jack off often, because he’s regularly, sexually occupied by you and your body. But when he can’t fuck you he’ll fuck himself (whilst thinking of fucking you). Sometimes feels like a pathetic loser when he jerks off to the idea of you. The feeling of being a pathetic loser sometimes, inadvertently, makes him get hornier.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Not really kinks but thing’s he’s into: hair pulling (on him), cumming on you, praise, watching you beg for him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Loves doing it in the bedroom, or shower. Anywhere private so he feels like he has you all to himself. Although the idea of doing it in a public place so everybody hears how desperate you get for him has crossed his mind more times than he’d like to admit
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you want him. Any of your tiny signals, from batting your eyelashes to running your tongue over your bottom lip, that alert him that you want to do something with him are enough. It doesn’t take much to get him going
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Choking or anything along the lines of seriously harming you. Not a total turnoff, but isn’t something that he’s enthusiastically into either.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves receiving and seeing that glassy look in your eyes as your mouth is full of him - however, he enjoys giving more. And you don’t complain. He’s good at it. He’s a sucker for holding your hand through it, and gazing up at you as his face is coated in your arousal.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Bit of both. Doesn’t try to go too fast so he has time to savour the moment, but also gets impatient quickly.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
In theory, he understands them - sometimes he just wants to fuck you, even if it’s not for long. But in practice? Hates them. One of the most important things about making love with you is to have time to enjoy you. He’d rather not have sex with you than a quickie unless he’s desperately horny. And even then, he’ll go back for a longer round 2.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
When sober? Not really, however, during post-smoke sesh foreplay, he’ll throw out the idea of doing something more experimental with you. It’s 50/50 on whether you two go through with it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Realistically, he does not have the best stamina, so maybe 3 rounds (with the promise that you both finish). But ideally this man could go forever until you want to sit it out.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn’t use toys on himself. But definitely enjoys watching you use your wand on yourself in phone calls when you’re apart.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Enjoys teasing you because he enjoys seeing you flustered and whine for him to fuck you. Teases often but never for too long. He’s not big on denying you what you want for too long.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Quiet, partly due to embarrassment and also partly because he’s a whimperer. The only coherent phrases slipping out from this boy’s mouth is your name and frantic “I love you”’s repeated over and over again.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Definitely a soft dom or submissive top.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Ever so slightly girthier and longer than average. Pretty much perfect.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Would not describe himself as a horny person but the fact that it’s quite easy for him to think about you and you only and get hard, even with the thoughts being within an innocent context, and get hard begs to differ. He is subscribed to the mantra that if pleasure calls, he follows.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If high, he’ll fall asleep after finishing up aftercare. If not, he’ll typically be up, even if you’ve long fallen to the entrapment of slumber, watching you and lamenting over the fact he gets to touch and be with you the way that he does <3
TAGLIST — @lordofthefrogs11 @titus-androgynous-69 @adiormoi (taglist is open, just lmk if you want to be added)
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jothb · 22 hours ago
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This post is like a honeypot for the type of guy I had hoped went extinct in 2018.
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Men's liberation from what? The gay men need queer liberation, the black men need black liberation, the working class men need liberation of the proletariat. These are specific classes that men can belong to, which must be liberated. But men as a class in of itself - what do they need to be liberated from? What is this burden that the leftists and the feminists have placed upon them that must be fought against?
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Feminists have failed men, because they would have never considered that in their own liberation they have broken the promise of servitude that men suffer so much for. I could have never figured that one out! Who could have known that the reason for men to feel betrayed by the left, is because the feminist and workers movements of the past decades have made it harder for them to own women as property, with current movements threatening to rid them of the power and authority they still have. I thought it was because lesbians were mean to them!
This entire post is just the whining of a man that thinks the oppressed class must take into account the feelings of every individual member of the oppressor class. He's complaining that feminist spaces are female dominated - what a shocker! He says that the "left" gives men nothing but suffering, (and I must admit I am quite eager for that to be the case) but as I look for a "misandrist left" I cannot seem to find one! There sure are plenty examples of women saying things along the lines of "Men Suck", but these are often said not as a theory, but as a slogan (besides perhaps the TERF movements, but to take their word for the movement being Misandrist would be as to believe that the Nazis really did just hate bankers). Instead I find analysis, some good, some shallow - like in every movement, trying to explain the material reasons for Patriarchy to exist, and how they might be changed. It feels either deeply ignorant or purposely dishonest to claim these works never take the male perspective into account. One is required at least in some form to describe the social pressures that shape the misogynistic behaviour. If we understand the material conditions that shape our men, we can change them for the better. And although removing and changing those conditions, those forces would lead to your "Male liberation from the forces of comphet", make no mistake - it should be focused and done as a liberation of women. Bringing women into the workforce en masse did, eventually, lead to men feeling less emasculated over having a working class wife, but it was done as a means of liberating women from the total financial dependency on their husbands. Would saying that it, eventually, lessened those forces, those societal pressures of Masculinity be incorrect? Not really, but it was not the goal!
And in this you find, that ultimately, all calls that feminists focus on "Men's Rights" and "Men's liberation" are in their nature demands that the feminist movements cease trying to upend the patriarchy. For it would be analogous to a factory owner demanding the working class not forget about his bourgeois interests in their socialist revolution.
You have yourself described quite simply why the struggle will get harder. As men realise that the looming threat of feminist thought and workers movements would kill not only the promise of female servitude, but also all hope of male authority over women, their reaction will get stronger, and more of them will join the anti-communists and anti-feminists. For this we must be prepared, and not spend time humouring the Nazis and the MRA
Also I did really laugh at the bit where you said "neckbeard is a slur"
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On the topic of Leftist Andrew Tate and other mythical creatures of the liberal mind
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2amriize · 23 hours ago
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𖹭.ᐟ RIIZE when they see someone flirting with you ༉‧₊˚.
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pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist
⭑.ᐟ shotaro
It might seem like Shotaro always has a smile on his face, but there’s one thing that can instantly wipe it away: when someone approaches you to flirt. He knows how close the two of you are, and he’s confident you’d never cheat on him or anything like that. Still, the minutes that the guy was chatting with you, he simply stood quietly, watching you both from the side. He wouldn’t come over, though. But when you finally return to Shotaro, he’d flash you a big smile, acting as if nothing happened.
click to see other members reaction .ᐟ
⭑.ᐟ eunseok
Oh no, he doesn't like that. The moment he saw a guy talking to you after you came back from the bathroom, he didn’t hesitate to join you, standing right by your side with a small smile. You knew very well that Eunseok couldn’t resist letting any man know that you were his, so you figured he’d do something in front of this guy. And he did—he didn’t waste a second before cutting off the conversation and gently holding your face, kissing you slowly until the other guy felt uncomfortable enough to leave.
⭑.ᐟ sungchan
Sungchan can be very jealous, but let’s be honest—he can be a bit clueless sometimes. The second he saw another guy talking to you, he was by your side in no time. At first, you thought he’d say something to mark his territory and let the guy know you had a boyfriend (lol). But instead, he simply introduced himself and started chatting with the guy with a big smile on his face. The guy ended up stopping his flirting, but only because it now looked like he and Sungchan were the ones flirting.
⭑.ᐟ wonbin
He’s not quite sure how to react. He was only gone for a few seconds to pick up your coffee order, and when he returned, he saw a guy clearly flirting with you. You knew that the guy would leave the moment Wonbin approached—I mean, who could compete with a face like that? But Wonbin just waited for the guy to walk away on his own before coming back to you. He’s not the jealous type, and even though he’d never say it, he knew no other guy could compare to him, so he wasn’t too worried about it.
⭑.ᐟ seunghan
For him, it wouldn’t be a problem, and you’d both find it a bit funny. You and Seunghan have so much trust in each other that it’s no big deal if someone tries to flirt with you because you both know it’s pointless (you’re both too in love with each other). You’ve even had playful arguments about who got the most people flirting with them.
⭑.ᐟ sohee
Sohee wouldn’t be thrilled, either. He always says he’s not the jealous type, but you both know that’s not quite true. When he saw a guy chatting with you, he walked over, putting a hand around your waist and leaving a kiss on your cheek before looking at the guy with a smile and saying, “And you are...?”
⭑.ᐟ anton
He’d feel a bit jealous watching a guy come up to ask for your number, but he’s also well aware of how much you love him (and a little too shy to say anything to the guy). He’d slowly approach the two of you, standing quietly by your side as the guy continued talking. When you notice, you’d smile and give him a quick kiss on the lips, causing the other guy to leave pretty quickly once he realizes you have a boyfriend.
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masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies
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thatnonameuser · 2 days ago
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what type of yandere do you think skully would be? ...or would he be a darling 😈😈🔥🔥
So far because of the AU, I'm making him a yandere. But.. * Insert Crowley Voice Here *  For I am gracious, I’ll give you both. 
Skully is from a time where yandere behaviors weren’t exactly accepted. At that point, it was during the halfway point between acceptable and a criminal act. At that point in time, the courtship was built on affection and darlings during that time had the right to reject their yanderes. (Not without consequences, but that’s a story for another time.) 
As a result, Skully is a gentleman yandere. Polite, affectionate and obsessive, with the same amount of love he has for Halloween. 
As canon Skully is, he’s just looking for excuses to kiss you. But he slowly goes from kissing your hand like a suave gentleman, to kissing your cheek, your lips, neck, trying to make out with you, et cetera. The longer you’re around him, the less he’ll be able to restrain his originally well-tamed urges. 
In a way, he’s also a delusional yandere. Because of his affection, he perceives everything he’ll do as an act of love. Kidnapping you is just the start of a date, gifts with dubious and bloody history are acts of love, drugging and killing people is just removing possible threats to your relationship. 
One thing that’s in your favor though, Skully isn’t a big fan of change. And he’s still adjusting to the fact that all the yanderes of the present are so okay with things that once got people imprisoned or executed back in the day. So he’ll try to save you from them. If you end up staying with him, he’ll be very relaxed as a yandere, allowing you a lot of freedom. 
(One funny thought I had was all the boys accidentally accelerating the acceptance of yandere behaviors with how they behave towards you during the trip and Skully learning from it.)
Skully, as a darling, is much more relaxed about the yandere thing. Same rules about darling’s being able to reject yanderes in his day still apply. 
So his original resistance to deviate from his Halloween traditions is amplified by the strangeness of the other yanderes, because how could they be so calm with something so horrible, AND change the sanctity of Halloween?
If MC is also a darling, then let her breathe a sigh of relief. With how Skully gently kidnaps her, she might be chill and miss the friendship between the two when she inevitably has to leave.  
If MC is a yandere, then well that kidnapping may be a little rough. Specifically, they might be turned into a pumpkin after all, for Skully to feel safe enough to perform the rest of his plan.
(Regardless of which MC is, then Skully will end up doing the opposite of that first thought. In fact, Skully will end up delaying the acceptance of yandere behavior with the spread of the new and better Halloween.)
I hope this was good. I wasn't really sure about it for a bit.
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suzukiblu · 19 hours ago
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Day fourteen of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: mentions of past grooming/abuse prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your life might be a little bit insane,” Tim says, now increasingly certain that Kon is just a living weirdness magnet and it is therefore his fault that every single Young Justice mission so far has been objectively buck-wild and borderline deranged. Previously he was just blaming the concentration of teenage superheroes with very different power sources and specialties and personalities all stubbornly jammed into one even more stubborn team, but “previously” did not include all the necessary data or any stories about gargoyle-riding supermodels possessed by dead gunslingers. 
Tim has heard some stories in the community, for sure, but that is a story.
“I mean, Hex and Grokk aren’t that weird, are they?” Kon asks with a shrug. “Not any weirder than the Event Horizon was, anyway.” 
“The what?” Tim asks, because Kon definitely said that like it was something’s name and not a metaphor for something or an actual event horizon. 
“Oh, sorry, the Event Horizon was this club I used to hit up with some buds,” Kon says as he snags three more grilled cheese(s?) off the stack and stacks them to bite through all three at once like some kind of unholy and incredibly greasy and buttery club sandwich or something. Tim is somehow morbidly fascinated, vaguely grossed out, and sort of charmed all at once. “It was always moving, was the thing, so there was this handstamp thing we all had that we used to teleport over whenever we wanted to party. Neverending space rave, basically, so you didn’t have to worry about hours or last call or anything. Club kinda got obliterated, though, so I actually dunno know if the teleport trick still works or where it’d send me if I tried usin’ it now?” 
It is definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim decides. 
“Oh, cool,” he says, and because after tonight he officially does not trust anyone who Kon has spent time with in a party environment, much less at an intergalactic rave–“Do you still hang out with them? Anybody I’d have heard of?” 
“Uh, not really. And . . . I don’t think so?” Kon shrugs. “Sparx, maybe you mighta. Otherwise it was Aura, Kaliber, Hero, and, uh–Half-Life. Also Hero’s dog was kinda around. Or maybe Hero was, like, Rex’s . . . uh, pet, or whatever? Or they were just roommates? Situation unclear there, honestly.” 
“How is that an unclear situation?” Tim asks with a frown, a little confused by that one. That’s not– 
“Rex was, like, this super-soldier war hero mystic type, and like, he could talk and whatever, so I don’t really get what was going on there,” Kon clarifies between bites of grilled cheese, which clarifies absolutely nothing. “I guess he was a WWII vet, but he drank from the Fountain of Youth or something? Also went to the moon once and used to be in the circus. Super-weird dude. Or dog, whichever.” 
. . . . . . it is definitely, definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim amends. 
“Never mind, I get it now,” he says, and Kon laughs, and then–hesitates, for a moment, and suddenly seems very interested in the last couple bites of his unholy abomination of a grilled cheese stack. 
“Hero was cool,” he says, his tone a little–off. Tim pauses himself, and wonders why. And also wonders if this “Hero” guy is actually somebody he needs to put on his supervillain hit list, considering. 
“Was that seriously his codename?” he asks, and Kon grins.
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teencopandthesourwolf · 2 days ago
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op re your tag: #do you think they played 20 questions
yes! yes, i absolutely do! because—as you said—two hours is a very long time to spend treading water while maybe possibly probably about to die, but especially with somebody you don't know all that well.
and this is stiles we're talking about! adhd motormouth stiles stilinski, who cannot bear uncomfortable (or even comfortable lol) silences at the best of times. so put him in an incredibly tense situation? with somebody he doesn't know very well? somebody he is nervous around (because contrary to popular belief stiles does actually have some self preservation instincts, plus, y'know, there's the whole derek is objectively hot as all sin thing) and of course he would start babbling away incessantly! ofc he would!
so yeah yes uh-uh you can absolutely bet your bottom dollar that stiles is gonna rope the local creeper wolf into playing 20 questions!
that boy will also absolutely be getting derek to play the “i go to the shops and buy...” recall game that his mom used to play with him when he was a little kid! he will absolutely be forcing der to sing the national anthem with him (derek does not sing, he doesn't, but he's maybe about to possibly die and is losing his mind a little so sue him if he grumbles through the verses an octave deeper than stiles's ridiculous soprano)! stiles absolutely asks derek what his favourite thai order is (it's pad thai, which stiles mocks him for because it's such an unbelievably basic choice, and derek resolutely tells him to fuck off) and stiles in turn shares with derek that his favourite is tom yum goong which obviously means he is more adventurous than derek (which is when derek tells stiles that hot and sour shrimp soup is not really that adventurous, and then reminds stiles that stiles can resolutely fuck off)! and then, what with the whole probable death thing, stiles absolutely starts to wonder if derek might be thinking about his family, and wonders when the last time was that derek got to talk about them, so he asks derek to tell stiles stuff about them, and at first derek is too stubborn (upset) to talk about them, but stiles keeps asking him more and more questions about his mom and dad and brothers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, and derek realises that he really does want to talk about them all so he starts answering stiles's questions in only short sentences at first but then finds himself regaling funny stories about them and thinks about all sorts other fond memories because of this, ending up telling stiles things he hasn't thought about in years and it's really nice, so then he's then asking stiles about stiles's family, and stiles says he's never had that much of it really but talks about how losing his mom when he was little was and is the fucking worst thing that ever happened to him because she was his best friend in the whole wide world (he loves his dad too, but saw even less of him back when he was a deputy) and he tells derek how he misses her like a lung and that he talks to her sometimes (which derek does with laura, too, but isn't about to admit to that) and that derek's deadpan humour often reminds him of her, and then he hears derek huff a little bit and it's the kind of huff that sounds almost like a laugh, a kind one, and stiles knew that talking and talking and not shutting up to try and break the ice during this week's perilous situation would pay off and hey! look at that! he absolutely got the trauma edgelord lycanthrope to not only open up about his life but to cheer up a bit and not be such a sourwolf and even laugh a little, too! which hey, if they're about to die, that's objectively actually the best thing a human and werewolf could do together, right?
so yeah, maybe op is spot on and we don't talk about this scene enough. which is a shame because there is SO much scope here, and we absolutely should delve into it more, again and again and again—because i think it is absolutely what stiles (and derek) would do xp
We really need to talk about the fact the stiles was prepared to drown to keep Derek alive.
He was treading water for two hours with Derek weight on him and only when his muscles started to give up did he try and hang onto the diving board. If Scott didn’t get there in time both stiles and Derek would have drown.
Also they couldn’t have been completely silent the entire time. Do you think as they both felt stiles weaken that they’d have to come to grips with the idea of dying. Do you think how Derek was paralyzed in the arms of a human (he doesn’t trust humans) and spent the entire time thinking “well this is the moment he’s going to let me go and I drown”; and how shocked he must of been when stiles refused to let him go. I know that stiles was definitely thinking about his dad. I wonder when the moment was that they realized they might die in that pool. The final moments before they both went under when stiles is trying so hard to keep them both alive. The way that stiles talks about drowning after this incident.
I really feel like we don’t talk about this enough.
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newtkelly · 2 days ago
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Not to word vomit on you but I can't stop thinking about Oliver wanting a love story like Tarlos and how it all accidentally lined up.
Knowing that Carlos and TK were about to move in, and then Carlos made that romantic gesture and TK got scared because it was, "too good to be true."
Carlos is left, confused, puzzled and nursing a broken-heart but still just as in love. What do you mean that TK and Carlos saw a future together, one got scared at that prospect and left before Carlos was the one to leave??
What do you mean that happened after Oliver said he wanted Bucktommy to have a love story like Tarlos; where it was always going to be them?
Then you consider Oliver saying that we might see Tommy and Buck interact during a call and it'll be awkward and who can't help but think of TK and Carlos running into the furniture store and seeing each other for the first time in weeks.
Anyways, sorry to be delusional in your ask box. I'm deep within the Tarlos trenches so this is all starting to look eerily familiar lmao (it could also be Tim is out of ideas, which is most likely the case)
Please feel free to word vomit on me always, I live for it.
Receiving this ask has actually prompted me to share some thoughts that I’ve held back from sharing, just because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to throw more speculation into the void. But this message is so lovely, and I agree with it so much and so… okay I will share some of my mixed bag of thoughts about this whole situation.
Firstly, I adore Tarlos and LS (even if I don’t post about either much), TK is my baby, and the interesting thing about them for me is that I wound up caring for them more AFTER they broke up and got back together. If Buck and Tommy’s story is formatted as a rom-com, TK and Carlos are a tragicomedy. TK, the heartbroken recovering addict thrust into an entirely new city, a new career, who doesn’t want to let himself get too close to something good because he is misery incarnate. Carlos, the hopeful hopeless romantic who sees TK and doesn’t see something that needs fixing, but someone who his love could help heal. It’s such a gorgeous story, and the symmetry of both characters shockingly losing a parent in a tragic way is painfully beautiful. I LOVE their love story.
That brings me to Oliver and Tim’s comments. Throughout the Buck and Tommy relationship, my belief that this would be Buck’s final relationship only ever wavered twice. The first time was in the immediate aftermath of their first date (I spent the whole episode thinking that Tommy was actually reintroduced to kick off the bi awakening plotline and Buck was not acquiring a boyfriend) and the second time was towards the tail end of the summer hiatus when I legitimately began to doubt Lou would want to come back given everything that transpired. Other than that, I had full faith that this was it, this was Buck getting off the “hamster wheel”—Tim’s words, not mine.
I had confidence for a few reasons. 1 – the story was always handled with care onscreen and gave us no reason to think they weren’t going to work out. 2 – the chemistry was insane, and I knew it couldn’t just be me because an entire fandom was born. Tim and tptb must have seen what we saw. 3 – the supplementary information funneled to us through articles and Tim’s social media, literally up until post-8x06 never seemed to indicate that their relationship was headed in this direction. A big part of that was the comparison to Tarlos.
In order to protect myself (should I name the list of shows, movies, couples that I’ve fixated on that wound up playing out in dissatisfying ways?), I am awfully pessimistic. The post-episode interviews, articles, + hearing a bit from LFJ and OS has me wondering if this was some mass hallucination. Did we truly cling to something good and blow it up, run with it? Was this always the plan? I’ve wondered if because S7 was so short and S8 required that other characters get the spotlight first/other stories needed to be told and wrapped, and if because of production and scheduling and whatever external reasons, did their relationship wind up having a longer life than was ever intended. Were they ever supposed to make it to six months? Were they ever supposed to make it past the fucking wedding? I have been asking myself this stuff a lot. Alternatively, did something happen that made them want to or have to part ways with LFJ? So many questions, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know.
But… then there’s the delusional side of me, and the reason I haven’t totally abandoned hope is because when I was watching 8x06 live, EVERYTHING in me told me that this is a necessary section of the rom-com formula. Even the call-backs throughout the episode made me feel like the writers are so painfully aware, and that the narrative wants these characters to be together (Miceli’s, Abby, basketball, going to the movies, calling an uber, the loft kitchen, “you’re not ready”)—the motifs were absolutely popping off. I did not think it was the end when the episode ended. I wondered when and how they would find their way back to each other to fulfill the rom-com genre, but what I did NOT expect was to open social media and see articles framing this as the end. I wasn’t surprised when I found out who wrote the articles, and listen—if they bait one side of the fandom, can’t they bait the other? I still have some hope, because at the end of the day, anything can happen with network television. Maybe this is all part of the plan, and the interviews should be taken with a grain of salt. I just don’t know.
Interviews with Tim and Oliver from day one positioned the Buck and Tommy relationship as a queer love story devoid of trauma. Okay, well… huh. From where I was sitting, there was A TON of explicitly queer trauma exposed in 8x06. Their “hurdle” is tied utterly and completely to queerness. Tommy runs because he is a gay man who doesn’t trust that his bisexual boyfriend should “settle” for him, and who would rather be alone than heartbroken, and if that truly is the last of Tommy, it has to be one of the coldest and cruelest exits we’ve ever seen on this show. Do they simply not realize how deeply traumatized both characters come off in that episode, or is it all part of the plan? If the interviews positioning this as the permanent end of bucktommy should be taken at face value, shouldn’t the other interviews that position them as a rom-com (with the formulaic third act breakup, boils and all) be taken as the truth as well? If there was some misinterpretation, why hasn’t Tim said anything—he clearly knows a lot of fans were hurt by what they watched. He must have seen the outrage—why radio silence? Did we truly blow this out of proportion? Are the wheels coming off behind the scenes? I need a tell-all at this point lol
Thank you for the lovely ask, I’ve been sitting with these thoughts all week so this was a good excuse to finally articulate them. <3
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