#i was already having a rough few days bc of unrelated things and then i checked the balance on one of my cards

[delllamortes]

i really, really hate to do this, but i’m getting pretty desperate, so here goes nothing 🥴

i’m very literally drowning in credit card bills, and i’m extremely overwhelmed by it. a lot has happened in the past year and a half that has caused me to spend way more than i can pay back. i’m currently unemployed, receiving EI (which is $882 every two weeks for me). $200 from each pay goes to my dad (i pay $400 a month to live here), my phone bill is $160 every month, i have 4 cats to provide for, and i need to buy food for myself and often for my mother as well, since she’s in rougher shape financially than i am. that leaves not a whole lot to put towards my credit cards, and often, what i AM actually able to put on them just gets wiped out by interest anyway. i’m doing my best to become more responsible financially, but i currently feel like i’ve dug a hole that i can not climb out of and it’s impacting my mental health so, so badly. i’ve been trying to find a job, but it’s hard, since most pay less than what i’m currently making on EI (which already isn’t nearly enough). i am not really one to ask for help, but i’m getting desperate, especially because a couple of my cats need to go for checkups soon and i have no idea how i’m going to pay for it. and so i’m going to swallow my pride and ask for help. i have a kofi, or if you’re in canada, my e-transfer email address is sarahrach081@gmail . com. i can also make a paypal if that’s easier. i’m willing to provide proof in the form of screenshots of my balances if needed.

i know times are rough for a lot of us so please do not feel bad if you can’t help out. my own irresponsibility in the past is part of why i’m in this hole, and there are definitely people who deserve the help more. but if you’re willing and able, even if it’s just a few dollars, i appreciate you so much 🥺 if you send something and would like a little doodle or something as thanks, i’d be more than happy to do that (i’ve gotten very rusty so i can’t guarantee it would be like, good, but i’m willing to try anyway 😅)

thank you for reading. please reblog if you can, i need all the help i can get right now 🥴

[yostresswritinggirl]

Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

[crimeronan]

hello. i followed you for correct leverage opinions, and have continued to do so because the vibes. impeccable. that being said, please tell me about the trc and cdth and the nightmare trauma pals and the other group

omg. okay i'll do my best

the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater is the first series, you'll find a lot of quick and simple summaries of the plot with a google search. there's a girl who can't kiss anyone because she'll kill her true love with a kiss, a boy searching for a dead welsh king in virginia to give his life meaning, a lot of romping around in the woods, etc

but the heart of the story is that it's about these six teens from wildly different backgrounds (though one of them doesn't enter the scene until book 3) falling in love and being Horribly messy about it. the external plot is centered on magic but the internal arcs are all about isolation, mental illness, classism, identity, growing up, growing apart, love as a choice. most of the main cast is desperately trying to save a doomed boy who just wants to make sure all of his loved ones will be okay when he's gone

the ot6 polycule is made up of

the girl who's already grieving the doomed boy because she's seen his future ghost, trying so hard not to let anyone else in on her secret, taking on more trauma and fear by the day as the series progresses

the doomed boy himself, an achingly lonely and extremely privileged kid who wants to do the right thing but always seems to fuck up; he feels he loves everyone more than they'll ever love him

the classic scholarship kid present in any book involving a boarding school, poor with a rough home life, desperately in love with the doomed boy without believing that love actually exists, & sick with terror bc of it

the shouty fighty walking disaster who's just starting to recover from a suicide attempt; found his father's dead body and it's been all downhill from there. nasty and caustic but prone to consistent quiet kindness

the actual ghost who's dependent on magic and the love of his friends to stay corporeal, exhausted, tired of decaying and trapped in a traumatic feedback loop that he can't pull himself out of

the social chameleon who's up to his ears in double identities and the criminal underground and trauma of his own, trying to suss out whether any of the other 5 are trustworthy and whether he can use them to his own ends

all of the interpersonal relationships are STUNNING and dynamic, characters can go from enemies to friends to enemies to lovers over the course of a few books, it's all just. really good

call down the hawk is a sequel to this series, the first book in a trilogy

it's about magic as chronic illness, magic as community, magic as something that wants to kill you but could also save you; you can view all of the character arcs through different lenses of disability, & the main conflict in book 2 boils down to accommodation versus independence for chronically ill people

the nightmare trauma pals are ronan and hennessy. both of them can bring their dreams to life. both have had nightmares try to kill them for years, thanks to their unrelenting ptsd and other illness. they're intensely platonic (ronan is gay) and have all the dynamic messiness of the trc relationships, turned up to eleven

they become best friends almost instantly because of their combined ability to laugh and to call the other on their shit; they're messy because they're awful codependent freaks who are both FAR too sick to truly help the other; ronan is trying to be someone healthy for hennessy despite having no idea what that looks like, so he's making it up as he goes along; hennessy doesn't understand why everything feels awful and ronan isn't helping like he promised and also why he doesn't seem to care that their codependency hurts her

but that's just one of many complex relationships in the series -- another extremely compelling one is between hennessy and jordan, a girl who's "not real" because hennessy dreamed her, but Very Fucking Real insofar as she has interiority and her own motivations and desires and a desperate want to be free. and how hennessy keeps dragging her back because she's so afraid of having to exist without jordan taking care of her

dreamer trilogy is SIGNIFICANTLY darker and more fucked up than the raven cycle, which is why i love it the most. but if you prefer lighter media you might like trc better! also this overview barely touches on, like, anything i have to say about either series. as evidenced by.... the thousands of posts on my blog. but these are the main highlights that i'm In It for!

[liloinkoink]

@minniedoozer i did consider leaving this to answer tomorrow bc it’s approaching 1am but they’re alos much shorter so fuck it

i feel like most writers dislike editing, and i used to dislike editing as well, but it’s now my favorite part of the process.

the short version to me is this: first drafts are for facts and edits are for feelings

the first step is genuinely letting your first draft be kind of shit. your first draft is going to make you cringe and that is a good thing. first drafts are all about getting down bare bones, going through the motions of the scene and getting the technical stuff down

here’s some things i encourage in your first draft: telling instead of showing, awkward dialogue, clunky phrasing, awkward/forced metaphors, typing errors. the entire point of this draft is to do anything that pushes the scene forward. do not stop to fiddle with shit that bugs you. id even advise that if you get stuck, skip to the next line in the scene you know for sure and just leave a gap so you know where to go back to.

why? because writing is easier to do when you’re already writing. you’re pushing a ball of snow down a hill, you don’t need to stop it every few seconds by doubling back and fiddling. get all your basic ideas about your scene out and be alright with it being clunky and weird.

once you have your bare bones first scene… walk away. give it a few hours. do something that is entirely unrelated. think about something else. the best thing you can do is go to sleep. the break is so you can give yourself a rest and get back into it with a fresh brain

open your doc again the next day, go to the top of the scene, and edit. you’re going to find a lot of it is better than you thought—there’s diamonds in that rough—but plenty of it is still rough. that’s okay! now you’re cleaning up!

as an example, i usually write conversations in my first drafts with pretty basic dialogue tags, and then when i go back i add what the characters are doing, how they’re moving/emoting while they speak, and how they feel about what’s being said. the edits are for injecting all the feelings into the bare bones scene.

i will also add, if you don’t finish a scene and you’re going back to it later, editing what you’ve already done is a pretty good warm up for getting back into the writing process. it’s a lot easier to edit, in my opinion, then it is to write, so it gets my brain working again to edit the first half of a scene the next day so i can write the second half

[cookinguptales]

I’m probably going to take a couple days before I start writing my next fic (that last one... was a lot...) but I have a few ideas I’ve been batting around. (See: thinking about when I should be working.)

realistically speaking, I will probably get to each and every one of them when and if the bug bites me, but like. if there are any of these that people are particularly excited about, I can try and guide my dumbass brain a little. lmao

cut because wow there are actually a lot of these:

five times nandor attempted to hypnotize guillermo (and one he didn’t)

guillermo gets Real Sick and nandor doesn’t handle it super well*

guillermo finally gets a real offer from another vampire who actually values him and nandor handles that even worse**

guillermo accidentally doses the vampires with a truth serum and Shit Ensues

sfw fic about guillermo realizing nandor needs a break from being a leader

nsfw fic about guillermo realizing nandor needs a break from being a leader

nsfw fic in which nandor convinces guillermo that slayer play is a good idea really that will not end poorly at all

(unrelated to the previous prompt) now nandor is injured and being a big baby about it and guillermo feels guilty that he didn’t prevent it

s3 AU in which they DO go traveling together because sometimes you must FLOUT canon for your own sick and twisted desires (which include nandor making guillermo take a picture of him holding up pisa. incorrectly.)

vampire!guillermo established relationship. guillermo doesn’t take well to a new familiar taking over his duties.

vampire!guillermo established relationship. navigating their first orgy together? and does it get possessive? yes.

new monster dropped bestie it’s an incubus

I don’t actually think Guillermo’s a complete virgin but let’s just say that he is and someone’s gotta fuck him so he doesn’t get eaten let’s just say that

nandor again believes he is cursed and demands guillermo protect him. guillermo thinks this is all dumb but he complies. note: he may actually be cursed.

b i t e idk I like eroticized blood drinking, I am weak

THIS IS JUST WHAT MY BRAIN HAS BEEN LIKE LATELY, IT’S A PROBLEM.

Honestly, the closer it is to the top, the more likely I am to write it bc I’ve already been thinking about them a lot. Whether I write NSFW fic or not is highly mood dependent. Usually I don’t but you never know.

Anyway I usually like to do requests like once a month or something but I have so many ideas that idk when I’ll do that again. Definitely for my birthday, like I usually like to do, but that’s not till May so. A nice compromise, I think, is to be like “HERE ARE SOME IDEAS, WHICH ARE YOU MOST EXCITED ABOUT?” and then I may listen or I may not. Look, I have ADHD, I never know what I’m going to write, either. But I will take things under advisement.

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

* Is sickfic an okay thing to write now?? It’s one of my favorite genres, but like... things have clearly been Rough on that front lately... I like the idea of Guillermo getting a very typical (but serious) human disease that can’t easily be prevented, like pneumonia, to make Nandor be like oh shit I think of him like a warrior but I forgot how human he really is?? not fair that he can die maybe from some dumb bug?? etc. BUT I don’t want to upset anyone. :( 

** Okay full disclosure I’ve actually had 6k of this one sitting on my hard drive for three weeks, but the part I wrote is mostly just porn. >.> I’d have to like. actually go back and write the rest of it. I know the plot, I just skipped it because I wanted to write... something else...

[sugako]

after class

ta!suga x f!reader cw: 18+ mdni, college au, alcohol consumption mention (not during the main plot), dubcon (bc of power imbalance & suga coming on VERY strong), oral (giving), facefucking, public sex (no one sees), teasing (receiving), blink once & u miss it degradation, fingering (receiving), quickie/rough sex, unprotected sex wc: 2.5k+ a/n: here is my wee lit ta suga brainrot ,, boy do i hate academia but wow do i like writing shit in a college setting

It was just a literature class, an enjoyable one at that. Yet, every time you walked through the door, the dull thump of your heart sped up. Hovering nearby, he was almost always there, not that you really minded. Maybe your mind was clouded with romantic thoughts because of the room - it was in the oldest part of campus and it showed with the cozy wooden walls and a stained chalkboard at the front of the room.

The nostalgia encouraged by the soft, warm light that streamed through the windows only made your longing more intense. He looked like you imagined a tricky mythical being to look, all sweet and inviting on the outside while fierce and feral inwardly. About a week into class he revealed his true self when reviewing - or rather tearing into - everyone's essays.

You noticed his eyes first. They way they lingered on you when he stepped in to lecture, flitted around your face and down your body, lit up when he went on a tangent about a theme he particularly enjoyed. Even though your mind sometimes wandered, everything was still outwardly appropriate. You called him by his last name like he asked, he called on you appropriately, answered your emails and graded your papers just like anyone else's.

One mistake-filled Friday night you made the mistake of following your friends to the nearest bar, and there he was. Face flushed with happy tears in his eyes he stood up at the bar with some of his friends. When his eyes fell on you the gears slowly turning in his head were visible.

He rushed over, chest pressed tightly against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you and ushered you up the counter.

“So good to see you!” He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You knew it was wrong, you tried so hard to tell yourself it was wrong, but he wasn’t much older than you and you weren’t in class now so what difference did it make, you reasoned. Besides, he was drunk and you had a drink in you already and he smelled so nice… “...too, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Huh?” You barely heard him over the roar of the crowd around you and the music vibrating off the walls.

“Heh, nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m gonna buy you a shot, you deserve it after that last essay. Very well thought out.” Being overly crisp in his words to achieve some kind of comedic affect you assumed. He leaned slightly into the counter, bringing you with him, and quickly ordered. Within minutes the bartender had placed the clear shots before you. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said, clinking his small glass against yours, sending half of his shot onto the floor.

It burned like always, but you held back your reaction, lips barely pursing as you set the glass back down.

“Thanks,” you started, unraveling yourself from his warm body, “I gotta get back to my friends, but it was nice seeing you.” You said softly, some little part not wanting to leave him.

Suga held you out by your waist and nodded once. “Good to know you can take rough things so well, go on then.” He says with a little push.

His words confusingly haunt you for a moment before you realize he’s talking about the ‘rough’ shot you just took, even if the wording was crude. The rest of the night you agonize over what he meant. “Good to know you can take rough things.” But by next Monday, it’s as if it never happened. He carries on in class like normal and so do you, until a week later.

He’s handing back quiz scores at the end of class, conveniently leaving you until last. The way he sped through lecture today, there’s about ten minutes left and, with no professor around this day to stop him, he dismisses everyone early. Except you.

“Can you actually stay behind a few minutes? I just want to talk about your answers.” When fear flashes across your eyes, he chuckles easily just like he was back at the bar and your heartbeat only speeds up. “Nothing bad, I’m just interested in your answers.” In tense silence, the two of you stand, waiting until the last student has made their way out.

“So which question-”

“Actually, I think there’s a better way for you to improve your score.” He grins devilishly, getting up from his spot beside you to fully close the door. Suddenly the room feels very stuffy and you’re very aware of everything around you. It makes your stomach turn, you’re not sure if it’s in a good way or a bad way, but you weather through and take a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m comfortable with the score I got.”

“I know, I know, you did very well.” He soothes while he makes his way back over just to lean precariously against the very tiny desk attached beside you. “It’s just… I know you try so hard, you pay attention to me more than anyone in this class. I think you deserve extra credit just for that.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” You struggle out, trying to find the words. Brain racing, you have no clue what to make of the situation. It seems like he has everything planned out, scripted, and you’re just blindly following along like a lost, little lamb.

“You know, I notice how you blush and smile sometimes when I lecture, and you take notes just so well while I’m speaking. I mean it’s very cute, don’t get me wrong, but you pay even better attention to me than you do your own professor.” He scoffs.

The way your chest is rising and falling is visible now, you’re sure he can see it through the thin material of your little sundress. “Sorry, you’re just always so excited I guess I get caught up, but umm… are you sure there isn’t another class coming in, I jus-”

“No,” he says sternly, “there’s not another class in this room for hours. But why be worried about something like that?” Suga asks with a small, knowing smile.

“I-I, uh, well I don’t know, I just thought… just making sure I g-guess.” You sputter out, quivering voice betraying yourself.

“What did you think I meant?” He asks evenly, the smile slipping from his features. Like a fish gasping for air, your mouth bobs open and shut, struggling to find the words or maybe a lie, but he doesn’t let you. He closes the tight space between the two of you with a short kiss that you immediately sigh into.

Pleased with your relaxed reaction, he pulls away almost at once, dropping your quiz from his hands onto the floor in between you. Mind spinning, you’ve barely registered the kiss before you’re crouching down to pick up the paper.

“Oh, thank you. You’re so kind.” He says plainly, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“No problem,” you begin while you start to rise, only to be stopped by his tightening grip on you.

“Sorry, you just look so pretty down there.” He coos, taking his hand away when you relax onto your knees and place the papers back down. You don’t know what to think, especially with his noticeable bulge so directly within eyesight. You want to be here, you can’t stop thinking about how his lips felt in that brief moment or what lies beneath his pants, but you can’t help feeling a little guilty. The sound of a zipper snaps you back to the reality where you’re on your knees in front of your TA.

“I, um…”

“You can do whatever you want right now, sweetheart.” The nickname he gave you at the bar makes heat surge through your veins. “But I want you to know if you chose to stay here and to touch me, I’m not gonna hold back, mmkay?”

Taking a deep, swallowing breath you nod quickly, fingers grappling at the pale blue waistband of his boxer briefs. “I understand,” you whisper out, “I want you.”

“Okay, princess, don’t say I didn’t-” His big talk is cut off when you mouth over him through the soft fabric, licking over the tiny wet stain he’s produced. “Oh,” he chuckles meanly, “so hungry for my cock, huh?”

Nodding deftly, you tug down on the waistband, letting his length slap against his clothed abdomen. He’s pretty, neatly trimmed, and pale but with a pretty, pink tip that makes you clench around nothing. The way his thighs are tensed under his slacks, you know he’s holding back, and you don’t want to make him wait any longer.

At a careful pace, you take him into your hand, pumping gently while you guide him into your mouth. When the salty taste of his precum hits your tongue he snaps. His hands bury into the back of your neck, holding you exactly in place when he shallowly pumps himself into you. Painfully, you relax your jaw, letting him use you while big tears well up in the corners of your eyes from the sting.

Over and over again his cock hits the back of your throat, gliding past the mess of spit that’s built up in your mouth. He feels so right, so good and all you can think about is him. Your nails dig into his legs, trying to find some purchase in the smooth material of his pants.

He watches as you keep your eyes trained up on him, admiring the spit already spattered across your cheeks. “So messy, sweetheart, you’re adorable.” He says just loud enough for you to hear over his unrelenting pace.

It’s hard to understand him with how hard you’re focusing on sucking in his cock while he fucks into you. “Always knew your pretty mouth was good for more than answering stupid questions.” Suga grunts, shuddering when your throat spasms around him, and swiftly pulling out.

Panting for a bit of air, you heave on the floor, upper half only held up by the loose grip you have on his thighs. Before you can catch your breath, he’s dragging you back onto your feet and facing your body away from his. A heavy hand forces your chest down against the tiny desk before you and his feet kick yours apart.

“Wore this cute, little dress for me?” He asks, flipping up the skirt and palming over your ass.

“N-no, I had a, uh, presentation today.” You try to say, the lie evident with how heavy the words weigh on your tongue.

“Oh, shut up,” he laughs, “I know this is the only class you have today, you told me that weeks ago.” He hums, fingers toying with the edge of your underwear, moving them around across your skin this way and that until he finally pulls them down. “And you wore these slutty panties just for me too. Probably thought about touching yourself after class while you thought about me instead. Isn’t this much better though?”

“Yeah, a lot better.” You squeak as his fingers force your thighs farther apart, meeting you aching cunt just to spread your slick around.

“Your panties are ruined, completely soaked. Must have been thinking about me all class I bet.”

“N-no,” but before you can argue he presses two fingers into you, scissoring them inside of you.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He replies and you can hear the eye roll in his tone. Again, his free hand presses between your shoulder blades, squishing you harshly against the desk. With a little sigh, he takes his fingers away from you and uses both hands to perfectly position your hips for himself. “Ready, sweetheart?” He asks sweetly, pressing his tip against your entrance.

“Yes, please, please fuck me!” You cry, finally crumbling before him and burning with need.

He’s so close now you can feel him, the want that’s built up in your brain over the last couple months is nearly unbearable now. You feel his fingers curl into the flesh around your hips just before he eagerly sinks into you. Involuntarily, you let out a shaky gasp, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying out.

“Relax for me princess,” he grunts, partially enjoying how tightly you’re clamped around him, “this isn’t an exam.”

It’s impossible to think of a witty retort or even a weak one while you shake around his cock, desperate for him to fill you up. On their own accord, you hips twitch back trying to meet him fully, but he only laughs and keeps you in place.

“I was gonna go easy on you, but since you seem to want me so bad…” he trailed off, slowly dragging himself out, the weight of his cock heavy against your gummy walls, “...you can have me.” His final word is punctuated by a harsh snap of his hips that fills you to the brim.

All you can muster is a broken, little whimper as his thighs continually smack against your backside while he fucks you into the desk. Any regard or concern you had for the world of students or staff outside the thin walls of this room was gone and it appeared his was as well. The wet squelching smacks of your bodies meeting bounced around the walls, the thin carpet failing to dampen much of any noise at all.

Through all of your spasms and twitches his pace was unrelenting. “Go ahead and touch yourself,” he said when he noticed the way your fingers danced around, obviously preoccupied, “wanna feel your pretty, little cunt cum.”

Managing out a little sound of agreement, you quickly wedge your wrist under your body, trying your best to circle your needy clit while he’s ramming you back and forth. It doesn’t take long before your sobbing out, hips rutting against his, feeling the coil deep inside draw you closer and closer to the edge. You keep your fingers in time with his motions, making quick work of your own pleasure, not holding back when you feel the last bit of resistance before your fall.

With a short, choked cry you’re gushing around him, convulsing around his cock while he slows just enough, his own thrusts getting suddenly out of time.

“Good girl.” He groans, a brief surge of pride and energy pushing him to his own finish line, the way you’re still periodically clamping down around him certainly being of some help. “I’m gonna ruin this perfect pussy.” He barely manages to mumble out before he’s holding you deep and close, his cock twitching deep inside of you just before his cum shoots against your walls.

“Feel so good.” You sigh, fully relaxing into his touch, the sleepy haze of your orgasm overtaking your senses. As he comes down from his high, he massages your shoulders, slumping over your own exhausted body and wrapping his arms around your middle. You don’t miss how his fingers cradle just under your breasts, kneading lightly.

“I think,” he starts, still very much out of breath, “we’ll need a couple tutoring sessions, just to clear up everything.”

[aces-drew]

a christmas rini hc bc the hsmtmts special revived me <3

just a cute lil christmas rini fim my bros, just some mushy christmas love shit for y’all hehehhe (not proofread sorry, it was just a braindump lmao)

ricky loved mistletoe growing up.

no seriously, he loved it. 

ever since he was little, year after year, mistletoe was associated with everything that made him the happiest - the holidays, winter, ugly sweaters, being snug with someone you love, his parents happy and in love, and the best kind of warmth to overwhelm all the cold

his earliest memory of his parents truly in love was when he held some mistletoe up to their knees and they kissed above him with smiles on their faces and teeth clashing.

it seemed to evolve as sort of a tradition. every year since ricky was 5 years old, he held up the mistletoe for his mom and dad while the entire house smelled of nutmeg while the cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies baked in the oven;

eventually his dad nagging him to do it once he hit double digits while he visibly (fake) gagged at how endearing his parents were for kissing under the mistletoe 

until this year, there was nothing that could ruin the innocence of a kiss under the mistletoe 

but here he was, winter break of junior year, with half a christmas tree up, his parent’s divorce finalised, his mom celebrating christmas with ted in chicago, his dad drunk on his days off work, and him eating microwaved thanksgiving turkey lunches (that are somehow still a thing) alone 

if he wasn’t so fucking angry at all the exhaustion and sadness he was feeling, he might’ve has the emotional availability to cry about it (hint: he didn’t)

so he just resorted to the monotony of waking up every day, doing his homework (yeah it surprised him too dw), facetiming nini, and gaming to keep himself as distracted as he could, actively avoiding the holidays all together

and obviously nini knew the extent to which this all sucked for ricky :( 

in addition to the guilt she was feeling leaving for denver in a few weeks, she hated the way ricky’s festive spirit was non-existent this year 

she remembered them every year growing up, ricky resembling a puppy getting ready for a walk in the park with each day they got closer to christmas

ricky, even before them dating, having 4 christmas movie marathons planned for every saturday of the month for them to watch on nini’s couch

(die hard of course being one of them because YES, it is a christmas movie, and no, he didn’t take criticism) 

her excitedly looking forward to cuddling with him underneath the only non-christmas coloured blanket he didn’t complain about nini keeping on the couch because he knew that it was her favourite blanket that they would inevitably end up cuddled under together

her moms obviously found them passed out on the couch snuggling, nini resting almost on top of ricky, them soundly sleeping with their stomachs full of hot cocoa and their hearts filled with love for each other (and yes the cheesiest and warmest christmas cheer)

god, they fucking loved each before they even knew what love was; if nini wasn’t already the hopelessly hopeless romantic she was, she could scream into a pillow about it

she was so thankful for ricky and the holidays, and ricky during the holidays. she always thought her favourite season was spring but seeing how much ricky loved winter, it was hard for it not to slowly become her’s too

so now as she sat facetiming him and he looked the saddest he’s ever looked, it was impossible for her not to scheme

after a few searches on pinterest and a re-watch of all the new girl christmas and thanksgiving episodes, she got her plan together

===========================================================

two days later, while ej, kourtney and big red took ricky out for a movie and some pizza, unbeknown to ricky, she used the hidden spare key to get in (break in) to his house

she knew that his dad had been working pretty late everyday this winter so she bet that some quality time with ricky was highly likely 

after raiding ricky’s gummy worm stash from the second last drawer beside his kitchen counter, she got everything ready 

===========================================================

‘this really is so nice of you guys, really’ 

ricky was incredibly thankful for his friends. he didn’t even know what he would do without them, but it was hard not to feel the sting of nini foregoing the movies for a workshop that her denver school was hosting

and of course he tried not to be bitter about it, he was so incredibly happy for her, she was the most talented person he knew, but it also sucked that he would have to do the rest of high school without his girlfriend, the person he loved most in the entire world

‘dude, don’t even sweat it... we know it’s been a rough winter’

and again, if two months ago you were going to tell ricky that ej was more an acquaintance to him, let alone a friend, he’d think something was perpetually wrong with the universe

but here he was, even empathetic

they had eaten, watched an overplayed zombie movie at the theatre and spend some good time together. and even though he was incredibly grateful for the quality time he’d spent with his friends, his social battery was low and his tiredness unrelenting.

so within twenty minutes, he was back on his driveway, taking a deep breath before bracing the Utah snow

===========================================================

once he walked through the door, he didn’t really even realise the entire living room re-arranged until the smell of his mom’s cinnamon rolls hit him

and then he processed all of it at once; a fort was set up in the middle of the room, the fully decorated christmas tree gleaming in its designated corner and christmas decor uplifting the entire space. fairy lights hung around the fort and the tv had been moved to level with it as muffled christmas sintra rung through the air

the entire gesture winded ricky. 

‘hi’ nini’s voice piped shyly from the kitchen

‘hi’ 

it was safe to say that rick was indeed short-circuiting right now

‘oh my-’ ‘ricky i-’

he didn’t really wait, ‘no me first. what the actual fuck nini? what the actual he-? oh my- i don’t eve- oh my-’

luckily, nini wasn’t as winded, ‘i know christmas sucks this year, i know that everything seems wrong. but i love you and gina, ej, big red and kourtney love you, we’re here. i’m here. i wanted to something for the holidays, ya know? take some agency and plan the festivities for once.’

ricky was still pretty starstruck, ‘by the looks of it, i should definitely do this more.’

her soft giggles were only matched with tears pooling in ricky’s eyes. tears he was desperately trying to control from sliding down his cheeks. nothing had managed to lift this unnerving pressure he had pressed up on his chest till now. and now? now, he was elated. he felt like a fucking cloud. he was so relieved, and so so fucking thankful.

‘this-nini this? this is everything.’ and he meant it. the earnestness in his voice seemed to surprise nini, her eyes suddenly matching his glossy ones. 

‘i love you.’ was all he managed to say as he rested his forehead on hers after hugging her, breathing in more of the nutmeg candles she’d lit. 

‘one more thing.’

‘what?’

‘look up!’

and surely enough, mistletoe stared right back at ricky, ‘i know this is hard. i know it is,’ she said almost reading his mind, ‘so we make our own traditions y’know, new ones. happy ones. so i thought i’d start with this.’

and that was enough for him to kiss her; he tried to convey all the love and great-fullness and integrity and warmth and honesty he felt, how much she made him feel like he had a home in her, how comfortable she was, how indispensable. most of all, he wanted her to know how lucky he was to be loved by her.

when they finally broke apart, nini raced to the kitchen counter, and when she returned with her favourite non-christmas sunshine yellow blanket and a copy of the die hard dvd, he knew that this winter break was something he could survive. 

[sauvreng]

This isn't actually an ask, but I would feel uncomfortable sending a message since we didn't have a prior interaction. I just want to say, I was new to the fandom and just read your fanfic, I love it really. I reread it from time to time. Favoring kurokura ship is scary sometimes, some fans hated the ship so much they would attack the shippers. So I'm delighted to find fans like you who openly supports it despite the odds.

hello, thank you for writing. i'm sorry if this answer is late. tumblr notifs are... inconsistent.

the haters can really be rough to deal with. i've had dav and myself called a few nasty things, but i generally don't let it get to me. i like what i like and i don't really care about the opinions of some random nobodies i've never and will never meet or interact with in my life.

i do however, have a few things to say about the purity movement and what it does to creators so hang on for a while as i rant.

people sometimes confuse "interesting and fun to consume" with "this is what i think is healthy and wholesome". you don't eat fast food hoping for a healthy meal; you don't read fics hoping for well-balanced, woke, aware and healthy characters and relationships. the two are completely unrelated. some may have all of this, but it's not really the norm. that said, don't try the salad at mcdonald's, it is absolutely horrid.

i write what i find interesting and fun to write. and let's be real, all h×h characters are very much in the grey zone. that's what i love about it. we have a culture of black and white, good vs evil, light vs dark. thanks a lot, christianity. but life is never like this. people who attack kurokura shippers seem to conveniently forget that kurapica is also a murderer, that killua has probably personally killed more people than kuroro has (unless you count people murdered by the spiders as a whole, then it's probably reversed).

if you think of it, this black and white thinking is way more destructive to the psyche of everyday people, than shipping a pair that would probably have an unhealthy relationship if they were real people. this black and white thinking makes people believe they are Right™ and therefore everyone who don't agree with them are Wrong™. and how can you have a real conversation, how can you grow and learn and empathize with people different from you if this is how you view life?

no one is good. no one is evil. we all do things that sometimes have positive results, sometimes negative, but most of the time, the results are positive *and* negative.

even this purity movement started with very good intentions and had good results. they pushed creators to be more inclusive, more aware of social disparity and so on.

but still.

kurapica is not "good". kuroro is not "evil". they both are more than that, and that is a testament to togashi's writing genius. all his characters are complex and multi-faceted. it is what makes them vibrant and feel real and helps us connect with them. i would *never* advocate that a real life survivor of mass murder would start dating the person who orchestrated the whole thing (though even that is debatable, if you read chapter 0). it would be absolutely unhealthy and twisted.

but. as characters, it is hella fun imagining how this would happen and what each of them could bring to the other, how they could heal together, how hatred can turn into trust... i'll stop here before gushing about this for three pages.

i mean, i've already gone on a long rant nobody asked for, lol. bc i'm tired of this, not just for k/k but...

i've seen fic authors literally bullied into deleting their fics bc one of their characters dared say something out of line that immediately labeled them "abusive". i stopped reading certain fandom fics bc the entire fandom was like this, expecting teenagers who have lived through extreme trauma to always say the right thing, always be kind and patient and supportive to their partner... and they bullied many authors who dared let them lash out once in a while.

or there's amelie wen zhao who had been so looking forward to publish her first book and was bullied so heavily she cancelled the whole thing. bc she dared portray a social issue from a chinese point of view, wanting to describe what was happening in her country, but people took it to mean something completely different, stolen from the african american point of view. she was literally bullied into abandoning her dreams. that's just so upsetting.

so it's not just k/k. i'm tired of this. can we just agree that stories are stories, they have fun, complex characters that makes one want to understand their psyche and put them in uncomfortable situations to see how they might react, that the stories are a safe and healthy way to explore things you probably don't want in real life?

stories have an impact and i understand that. but at the end of the day, they are *stories*.

[angeloncewas]

dont wanna make this ask long bc i am tired and dont have the energy to be a well spoken (?) person rn but it probably will be long anyways, so sorry!! but like. as somebody who has hyperfixated on both idubbbz and schlatt (along with a plethora of other problematic content creators, i really know how to fuckn pick em!!) they absolutely foster a dogshit community, at least outside of platforms like tumblr, where like. you cant really avoid fandom culture like you can on twitter or ig, if that makes sense. on here, if you wanna post about your favorite youtuber, whether you tag it or not, other fans will likely see and if you say some bad shit, you will likely get called on it, whereas on ig basically only your followers will see it even if you use a hashtag and on twitter its like if you arent in a subtwt/fandom then you basically dont interact with any subtwt at all unless its an accident, ya know?

so like. i think what im trying to say here is that while ive met a lot of fans of both these creators, especially schlatt, who are great people as far as i can tell, i am also specifically on the fandom side of things and as soon as i step out of that space i realize that a lot of people who watch them are not actually minorities like me and my mutuals who can catch on to satire or who watch their more behind the scenes stuff where you can see them act like a decent person or even call out people for the things they usually joke about which just. fucking sucks. it sucks that, as much as i do believe schlatt is actually a good person (and sort of idubbbz, although i dont really watch him much anymore for a plethora of reasons, mostly related to the fact that i cant stand his jokes anymore even if he is playing a character as he's said before), he also keeps doing terrible fucking things and im really glad his actual friends have been calling him on it recently, especially after that jackbox video (which is a whole other thing on its own bc it literally seemed like nobody wanted to be there basically the entire video?? like as somebody who watched all the jackbox videos before that one, it was really fucking off in that call and the jokes were next level fucking upsetting), but sometimes it's just kinda like. exhausting. bc his community is already fucking bad now, you cant undo accidentally fostering a community of fucking racist homophobes who dont get that you're playing a character, unless you kinda drop off and build a whole new community from that, which would be stupid to do at this point in his career. not really sure where i was going with this tbh, but i thought i would chime in on this discussion as a viewer of mainly schlatt, but also a past idubbbz viewer who is basically a seasoned fucking vet at dealing with shitty fanbases because of him and many other dumb youtube white boys

(also, note on that anisa thing: ian's main fanbase was definitely pissed just bc she does sex work and a lot of them are too fucking young or just too fucking dense i guess to clock the fact that he's putting on an act bc, like i said before, they either dont watch his behind the scenes content, or they do and they kinda just miss those moments between still trying to entertain where he gets genuine. that being said, a lot of people outside of his fanbase were also pissy bc anisa is a less than spectacular lady if you really do your research on her, kind of a bad person but it's not something a lot of people know about, especially since one of the few videos made on it was by fucking creepshow art)

sorry for the rant again, i feel like i do this every other week now and i apologize, you just seem to have the best discourse and i enjoy partaking <3 hope you have a good rest of your day/night/whatever time you're reading this!

—🦷

Thank you for the input (don't mind the rant !) and I hope you have a good rest of your day too <3 For post length, I'll answer under the cut :)

Yeah, I get what you mean (I think ahdsufsd). Fandom as a concept is pretty... I don't even know how to describe it, but it's the kind of thing that I feel like white male Redditors would think of as pussy shit, y'know? Like the Ricegum gang isn't a fucking "fandom" they're a... well, a fandom, but they're not gonna admit to that. So when you step outside of a community like Tumblr (the queerest place on the internet TM) you come into contact with the faces of the fandom you're dealing with and oftentimes they're a lot less like you than you might've thought from the similar interest. It's like going to a Weezer concert and realizing you're surrounded by incels (this is a JOKE).

Satire's a rough topic because some people don't think it should exist at all. Like any words that can be directly interpreted as bigoted or problematic should not be uttered. I disagree with that, I think it's one of the most interesting forms of both social commentary and comedy, but I do see the problem. There are people who watched Filthy Frank (to take an example from that other anon) and didn't know or care what the point of his actions were (I don't know what they were tbh - I never watched him, but it sounds like he's a pretty decent dude) and instead read his jokes as-is. There are thousands upon thousands of people who aren't gonna get satire and that's a problem because if they're already bigoted they're gonna see people like Schlatt and iDubbz and whoever else as truly validating.

(Largely unrelated but yo, is iDubbz still going? Are the views alright? Is the adsense popping? Has he just kept going with Content Cops? I haven't heard about him since the girlfriend thing dropped.)

"you cant undo accidentally fostering a community of fucking racist homophobes who dont get that you're playing a character, unless you kinda drop off and build a whole new community from that"

I think this is what's pertinent when it comes to discussing Schlatt. After the Jackbox video (for me at least, he might've been there before) he put himself at a crossroads. If he'd apologized, said "sorry, I took it too far, that was a mistake" - yeah, plenty of people wouldn't have forgiven him and plenty of bigoted fans of his would've said that the apology was just to placate the snowflakes on Twitter, but to the sort of in-between people it would've shown that he's able to recognize and reconcile his mistakes. He could've transitioned into content that's A) actually good (when I say that the video was bad I don't just mean in terms of racism, I mean it straight up was not entertaining) and B) less "edgy" for the sake of. I wouldn't expect him to go uwu squeaky clean, but he's already reeled in the bad people, so if he really wanted to foster a good, progressive audience, he has to do something significant to show that.

But he didn't.

Maybe for the sake of his career, maybe because he likes those bigoted fans, maybe because he just doesn't get it - I don't know. I don't think we'll ever know. I spoke earlier about doing what is right over what is easy and in the case of Schlatt it just feels like he really did take the easy way out. Whoever he is in his personal life doesn't change how he's perceived online and the kinds of people that are idolizing him for it.

(And yeah I saw the video on Anisa when I Googled her to check if they were still dating, but then I saw who it was made by and I was like oh well whatever avhfdfkj)

[myriadimagines]

Cursed Blood

The Witcher One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Renfri

Other Characters: —

Warnings: mentions of violence & death, alcohol

Summary: The entire Continent sees Renfri as evil, cursed, monstrous. But you don’t. You only see the woman you love. 

Word Count: 1,760

A/N: i have already mentally prepared myself for this to get 2 notes as all my one shots do but. it’s okay. i love renfri too much to care bc every hour on this blog is missing renfri hours.

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Cursed. It was all Renfri ever knew, all she was ever told. A screaming child born under a shadowy, black sun, absorbing all light and casting rays of evil darkness upon soil. The planets aligned just to curse her blood, to fill her with venom and hatred that spit over her growing bones. 

Her name didn’t matter. Any identity she would try to forge would never matter. All that she was to the world was a girl born in the eclipse, a girl that would bring the world’s end, sink her teeth into it with a bloodied smile. The planets had made her cruel, twisted and broke something inside of her, or so some old mage under a dusty robe had claimed. Renfri scoffed to think about the men who had ruined her life, as all men do, robbed her freedom from her and branded her the descendent of a demon goddess, an entity of the night as dark as the Black Sun she was born under. Renfri knew her existence was a threat, her existence meant she was a gateway for Lilit to walk the Earth, to bring death at her fingertips and obliterate the entire human race.

She felt as though her boots were always stained with blood, no matter where she walked. It was prophesied for her, after all, to engulf kingdoms in blood, to watch innocent people choke and splutter before they drowned in the crimson oceans. 

She heard about the other girls like her. Girls snatched under the winking stars by Stregobor, to be locked away for his experimentation. Growing up, she knew she was always under his watchful eye, him prying for any excuse to brand her a monster. Violence bubbled up inside her, boiled over, stung her skin, but it wasn’t because of the Black Sun bullshit that had been retold time and time again. No, her anger stemmed from something else, from being a child who grew up without love, who grew up finding comfort in violence when no one else would hold her. She learned to hold herself, learned to be the only person she could trust. 

And her life of loneliness was sealed when Stregobor sent the man to follow her into the woods. Stripped of her princess title, stripped of any royalty or allegiance that never belonged to her, Renfri almost felt pleasure when she jammed her mother’s brooch into the thug’s ear, piercing it into his brain.

Life became all about survival. Kill or be killed. Starve or steal. From one village to the next, home was a foreign concept. Perhaps she was a monster, she’d wonder, with each man she’d kill in order to survive another day, but how was she to know? Where did the lines between monster and human lie, and who defined that line? A paranoid mage who believed in old curses? That hardly seemed fair to her. All that she knew was that all her emotions felt so real, so palpable, they had to be human. To be human is to be joyous, to be melancholic, to be furious. To be human is to feel. 

Love was an emotion she had never felt before, an emotion that lingered in the back of her head, made her wonder if she was truly human if she had never loved. She wondered what it felt like, if she would be able to recognize it if it was handed to her on a platter, but she figured petty things like love did not matter. If she had survived her whole life without it, how important could it be? Not important enough to concern herself with when she spent every waking moment trying to track down the man who had robbed her life from her. Her hunt for Stregobor was unrelenting, her taste for revenge bitter in her mouth each time she got close.

You were the one who found her one night, drunk at an inn after she came close, so close to finding Stregobor and ending him once and for all. The wizard had slipped through her fingers, again, and she swore it would be the last time. Her face was buried in her hands, her dark locks obscuring her face, her breaths heavy as she struggled to grapple with the disappointment and anger that swirled inside her. She didn’t mean to pull her dagger on you, grab your wrist and yank you towards her in a motion so swift you didn’t even comprehend what was happening until you felt the cool blade at your throat. You had taken her by surprise, trying to clean up the various pitches of mead she had emptied and left strewn across the oak table. Renfri’s eyes bore into yours, perplexed by the fear and curiosity that stared back at her, before she let you go, dropped her dagger onto the table as her fingers released your wrist. Her fingertips burned against your skin, but in a way that you wished she would touch you again, give you another adrenaline rush that electrified you. You cleared your throat, straightened your apron, joked about it a rough night. Renfri didn’t respond, still eyeing you up carefully, intrigued as to how you hadn’t already scrambled away in fear. After the ensuing silence, you gathered the pitchers and left, only to return a few minutes later with a new one that was filled to the brim.

Perhaps it was the tiny act of kindness, a gesture Renfri had never experienced before, or perhaps it was your sweet smile that she caught a glimpse of before you turned away, but Renfri knew she couldn’t let you go without at least getting your name. 

You sat with her for the rest of the night, talking until the first rays of dawn. You had seen all sorts of customers, the drunks, the adventurers, the dangerous ones, and yet you couldn’t quite understand Renfri. She didn’t talk about her past, wouldn’t tell you where she was travelling from, instead choosing to listen to your story. Learned about the inn in which your family owned, watched as you pointed your mother and father out to her, your younger and older sister. She laughed over stories you’d tell about uproarious customers who’d pass by, felt her heart flutter at your smile, that sweet, endearing smile. When she knew it was time to go, she tried to pay you, yet you tucked the coins back into her palm, insisting that her company was all you needed. She didn’t understand how you could be so kind, so soft in a world that was anything but to her, but she fell in love. With you, with your kindness, with the gentle manner in which you treated everything and everyone around you. She couldn’t let you go, couldn’t let go one of the one good thing in her life, the one person whom she’d ever felt love for. 

So she told you to come with her, to join her on her travels. She didn’t expect you to agree, yet she was euphoric when you did. You felt the same magnetism, felt the same pull to Renfri as she felt for you, and you knew you couldn’t let this one night be the one and only with Renfri. You were destined for many more nights, destined for so much more time together.

You trekked through the forests together, walked alongside the babbling rivers and under chirping birds, and the world felt sunnier with you by her side. Renfri swore that the sun seemed to brighten, that the trees were greener when you skipped amongst them. She knew she had to tell you where you were going. She knew she had to tell you who she was, but for the first time in so long, she was afraid. She spent her whole life being unapologetic for who she was, learning to own up to her identity and embrace it, but with you, she feared scaring you off. She feared not being accepted by the one opinion in the entire world that mattered.

When she first kissed you, it was at an old inn, on a creaking bed you stayed the night on before continuing on your journey to Blaviken. You insisted on just paying for one room to save Renfri’s coin, claiming you could sleep on the floor if Renfri didn’t want to share the bed, but she laughed, teased you for being so foolish as to think she’d let you stay on the floor. You were both drunk, swaying, words slurring and bodies too close to one another, crossing lines you would never be able to uncross. But when Renfri leaned forward to kiss you, closing the gap between your bodies, both of you knew that crossing this line was something you’d never regret. Your kiss was feverish, desperate, loving, hands running through hair, bodies tangling in thin sheets as you unlaced your shirts, wanting to feel her skin against yours. 

You held her in your arms that night, running your fingers through her hair as Renfri rested against your shoulder, pressed kisses to your collarbone and smiled each time you giggled. It felt nice to finally be held, she thought, to love and be loved. And in her moment of softness, of vulnerability, she told you the truth. Told you about the eclipse that haunts her, told you about her cursed blood, about the poison that runs through her veins. Told you the reason you were travelling to Blaviken together. She forced herself to look at you, wanting to see every emotion that crossed your face, but there was not even a hint of fear. Not even a hint of you wanting to run from her. You pressed a kiss to her forehead, down her cheeks, to her lips, and your tone didn’t waver as you swore to her, that if she wasn’t the one to slit Stregobor’s throat, you would do it yourself.  

You would? she asked you, voice low and quiet, her hand reaching for yours as your fingers intertwined. She wasn’t even sure if you could fight, if you knew how to handle a sword, yet she didn’t question the determination in your tone.

Yes, you reaffirmed. Because I love you.

She kissed you in response, mumbling against your lips that she loved you, too, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra. And every time you kissed her, you swore it was impossible that her lips could be poison. And even if they were, they tasted oh-so-sweet. 

tag list: @fairytalesforever​​​​ / @ruvaakke​​​​ / @azeret-mirror​​​​ / @fangirlsarah16​​​​ 

[serenlyss]

Growing Up

Rating: G Pairing: Background terumob Summary: Shigeo decides to branch out a little. Crossposted to AO3: Growing Up

Here's my second stab at @bisexualwinry​‘s fluff prompts!

On an unrelated note, I've been looking for fellow mp100 writers here with the potential of creating a writer's discord! Specifically I've been looking in the mp100 fandom since that's the one I'm most active in rn but it's open to all fandom writers. I haven't created it yet bc I haven't seen enough interest but I feel like it could be a really fun place for writers to get together, find beta readers, workshop ideas, etc! If you're interested, hmu here on tumblr or my discord (LyssaGirl1998). You can send me an ask or an im, whatever you prefer!

“Master Reigen,” Shigeo says one day from his spot on the couch in Reigen’s office, “I think I’d like to learn to play piano.”

Reigen looks up from where he’s tapping away at his keyboard. It’s still odd to hear Shigeo call him that, after he’d admitted to being a fraud, but despite his insistence that he doesn’t need to anymore, he still does anyway. Shigeo reclines against the couch, one leg lifted so that his ankle rested atop his opposite knee. He has a book open in his lap, which he’s been quietly reading up until now.

“Piano?” The voice of Reigen’s unwanted and self-imposed secretary butts into the conversation before Reigen can reply. Tome leans forward in her seat, the seat that used to be Shigeo’s, before he’d stopped coming around as frequently. “What would you want to learn something like that for?”

Shigeo shrugs with a small smile, slipping a bookmark between the pages of his novel and setting it aside for now. The smiles are less rare now, more generously offered and less stifled and withheld. “It was thinking that it could be fun to learn how to play an instrument,” he explains. “I don’t have a lot of hobbies, after all.”

Reigen’s more than a little surprised that piano is the thing that Shigeo has decided to pursue. He’s never seemed like much of the musical type, aside from whatever music he liked to listen to in his free time, and he’d only ever taken interest in a few random activities, like exercising. But he’s in his third year of middle school now, and he’d finally started letting go of the tight hold he’d kept on his emotions for all those years, so it’s only natural for him to want to explore those hidden and repressed sides of himself now. Besides, Reigen finds the idea of careful Shigeo sitting at a piano quite easy to imagine, once he puts his mind to it. “Hmm, I think it would suit you,” he comments. “Why piano, though? Any particular reason?”

“Well, Teru knows how to play, and he’s even offered to teach me a few times,” Shigeo replies, his smile turning a bit more shy and fond with the mention of his boyfriend. “He’s really talented, and I bet he’s a good teacher.”

At her desk, Tome makes choking noises and pretends to be sick.

Reigen ignores her entirely. “I think it’s a good idea,” he says. Shigeo deserves encouragement and support, and if he wants to try something new, Reigen firmly believes that he should.

Shigeo, at least, seems pleased with the answer, nodding with a confidence Reigen still isn’t quite used to seeing before returning quietly to his book. Reigen lets himself stare a moment longer, noting that Shigeo’s gotten taller. It won’t be long before he shoots over Reigen’s head and starts rivaling Serizawa.

He huffs out a breath that ends up sounding annoyed, turning back to his work. These stupid kids, they really do grow up way too fast.

---

Teru and Shigeo meet after their club activities often to study and, occasionally, to have a brief piano lesson. Teru can’t fit a keyboard in his little apartment, so he comes to Salt Mid instead, and the two of them take up residence in one of the school’s open practice rooms in the music wing.

Shigeo’s fingers are inexperienced and uncertain, and he’s quick to doubt the soft way he presses the keys, so different from Teru’s quick and confident playing. He’s stubbornly dedicated to learning, though, and his ear is incredibly sharp. He picks out his mistakes quickly after he makes them, fingers jerking into the correct positions with little need for Teru to correct them for him. Teru’s quick to praise him for his progress and gentle when he points out his missteps, and they quickly fall into a routine in their lessons of sitting on the bench together, close enough to brush shoulders, Teru leaning over to mess with the music while Shigeo does scales and arpeggios and sight reads the kind of music meant for three-year-olds and pretends not to notice how the proximity makes his chest warm comfortably.

---

Ritsu hears Shigeo practice, sometimes, when their mother goes to run errands, their father isn’t quite home from work yet, and it’s just the two of them in the house. Usually it’s when Ritsu is up in his room, working on his homework. He’ll catch the faint, distant sound of piano melodies as Shigeo plays whatever comes to mind: random little tunes that Teru’s taught him, old folk songs and nursery rhymes, and occasionally something of his own creation.

The tunes start out rough and shaky, large breaks between bits of the music Shigeo hasn’t quite committed to memory yet. Ritsu wonders how he can see so little progress and yet still not find himself frustrated. He shakes his head and goes back to his homework, drowning out the quiet plinks of the piano beneath him with headphones and his own music.

---

Shigeo graduates middle school.

Reigen gets invited to come sit with his family for the ceremony, and Teru does as well. They find a seat off to the side, easy to spot but not too overbearing. The ceremony is widely unnecessary, in Reigen’s opinion, and drags on for far longer than he believes it should, but that doesn’t stop the rush of unprecedented pride he feels when he hears the principal call Shigeo’s name.

He watches, speechless, as the boy he’s known for the last five years of his life crosses the stage, and hides the fact that he’s on the verge of tears by pretending he’s sleepy and rubbing his eyes. Ritsu shoots him a look that says he sees right through Reigen’s bullshitting, but not even Shigeo’s snarky younger brother can steal his good mood away from him when he eagerly goes to congratulate his student after the ceremony has concluded.

Shigeo’s parents shell out to buy him a nice graduation gift: an electronic keyboard of his own, one that he can easily put up in his bedroom and take with him when he eventually goes off to college. It’s full-sized, with the nice weighted keys that feel like a real piano’s, but compact enough that he doesn’t need to worry about how much space it takes up. Reigen pitches in to help pay for the accessories as his own congratulations, and it’s beyond satisfying to see the way Shigeo’s eyes light up at the sight of the crisp, new black-and-white instrument already set up and waiting for him when they all go back to the Kageyama house to celebrate.

---

Shigeo keeps practicing. He gets better every time Ritsu hears him, his pacing more consistent, repertoire more confident. It makes him happy that Shigeo has found something he likes, that he’s willing to practice and get better at. He hopes he sticks with it.

---

Shigeo grows older, taller. His daily exercises with the Body Improvement Club show in the lean muscles he hides beneath the sleeves of the better-fitting high school uniform. His shoulders broaden and his face loses its childishness in favor of more mature, angular features, but it retains its softness in the laugh lines around his eyes and the toothy smile he no longer hesitates to show.

Larger hands and longer fingers make playing the piano that much easier, after the initial adjustment he has to make to account for his newfound clumsiness. He runs into things constantly now, banging his feet on chairs and tables that he swears are too far away to be problematic and hitting his head on low-hanging objects and shelves he used to be able to walk right under. He forgets sometimes that he can reach the high shelves now, the ones even Reigen can’t get to unless he uses the little step stool by the pantry.

He joins a music club at his new high school and uses it as his designated practice time, putting his hours into the well-worn pianos in the music room while the other club members hone their own talents all around him. It’s been months since he first touched a piano, and he’s grown confident and deft in the way he moves his fingers over the keys. He can sight read now, at least certain things. He plays whatever he feels like playing, not confined to classes or grades or any sort of classical training. He picks out song with tunes he thinks sound pretty or interesting and then he recreates them, with or without music, content to play on a whim instead of by necessity.

He never becomes so good at the piano that he’s asked to perform outside of occasional pieces he plays for his friends or classmates at his music club. He learns a few duets, with Teru or with friends who play other instruments, but he doesn’t perform in front of large crowds or even attempt to.He’s perfectly content to play for himself, and only himself.

---

Shigeo loves playing the piano. When he feels stressed, it’s an easy way for him to relieve some dormant energy and express those feelings in a productive way. He plays happy things when he’s feeling sad, somber things when he’s feeling contemplative, whatever comes to mind in the moment. He plays easy things and complex things, whatever sounds pleasing to the ear, and challenges himself by picking up pieces that he thinks may be a bit beyond his skill level. He surprises himself by putting in the time and effort into making what seemed impossible his new glass ceiling, and shatters it with every day he pushes himself out of his comfort zone.

Sometimes he plays out loud, for anyone to hear, and other times he plugs in a pair of headphones and plays just for himself. He plays as a break between homework assignments, putting his brain to work in a completely different way, plays when he’s feeling bored and has nothing else to do.

Sometimes he doesn’t play at all, too wrapped up in the business of his schedule as he balances occasional work for Reigen with hanging out with Teru and his brother and all of their friends. He never goes too long without playing, though, his attention inevitably going back to the keyboard set up by the window in his room, where he can glance outside at the neighbors walking their dogs down the street while his fingers drum against the plastic keys. It’s peaceful, and takes his mind off his other concerns.

---

When he finally leaves his parents’ house, he takes the keyboard with him.

[figureinthedistance]

ive been trying 2 make a post abt david berman fr the past 24 hrs not even for my own benefit but bc i feel like bc of the person he was + what he did fr me + many others i am obliged 2 deliver some sort of testament or sth i cant not create anything for him + i dont have many options open 2 me in terms of how 2 honour him. when i found out i was @ work + i left a couple hours later 2 go down 2 this grotto 2 the blessed mother mary in a nearby park + i prayed on it + it was like a rare occasion of feeling like prayer wasnt enough + i think its bc prayer is fr me + given how much DCB has done for me i shld do sth for him. theres not rlly anything i can do so until i think of sth better im jst gna make a post semi-articulating his greatness + hopefully someone who sees this + doesnt kno him will now kno tht 2 days ago an incredibly special + strong + kind man died. i kno it was important 2 him 2 leave an impact + i’ll try my best 2 always help w that from now on. 

 this is a new kind of grief. when i went thru his tag yesterday there were like 3 posts by different ppl abt how he had saved their lives when they were going thru rough times + he was definitely like a key component of my survival when i was a teen. + im struggling to think of anyone who balanced despair + hopelessness so well w humour his lyrics cld make me laugh + some of his songs were so feel good even while mapping the horrors of existence w/ this cutting accuracy that few im familiar w/ have ever matched. he was like simultaneously confirming u were right to fear everything u feared, but then also being like. shit theres still stuff to laugh abt. theres so much u can enjoy. (is the problem that we can't see or that the problem is beautiful to me?)

i keep thinking of new lyrics + having my heart broken all over again. “folks who’ve watched their mother kill an animal know that their home is surrounded by places to go.” there was a review fr his newest album which said they were tempted to engage in rlly lazy music reviewing, by jst quoting a dozen of his lyrics instead of actually saying anything themselves. another piece said tht it was a serious struggle choosing which lyrics to share bc they were all so powerful. bill callahan tweeted ‘the world is a david berman lyric’. theres also this ch*rles darwin quote abt charles lyell, where he says the book lyell wrote ‘altered the whole tone of one’s mind, and therefore that, when seeing a thing never seen by Lyell, one yet saw it partially through his eyes’. berman definietely taught me a lot abt seeing the world + like, finding meaning + connexion w banal, unpretty things (the darwin quote also reminds me of a line from bermans poetry: there were no new ways to understand the world/ only new days to set our understandings against. now tht we won’t get any more insight from him, we’re jst gonna have to keep reusing what hes already given us to understand the coming times). before i was on the joos/mountains binge id been in a built to spill phase, + they have a lyric like "u can take the world apart to figure out how it works" (not verbatim) + DCB did a more thorough job than i can think of witnessing from many others. i feel like trying 2 describe him almost sullies his legacy bc no words will ever b able to match his own. u cant find adequate language 2 describe them bc they took language 2 unprecedented heights. 

im fighting off the urge of making this abt me but i’ll note this once: it is fr me + fr all the other fans particularly...idk...unsettling? shocking? having this happen a month after the release of his 1st album in over a decade + a week before he was supposed 2 start touring. prior 2 this news id been listening to the joos + to purple mountains on repeat fr the first time in ages bc i was so excited abt his come back. + coinciding w that was the fact tht the last couple weeks say i have fr unrelated reasons been enduring some of the heaviest suicidality in months. having him take his life honestly feels like losing someone who was fighting along side me. 

i think a combination of factors make this such a deeply felt injustice, the first being how he so deserved peace. i halfway remember a conversation w my brother when i was like 16, + we were saying how the silver jews jst made u root fr him, u jst wanted him to overcome all the obstacles he was facing. another but similar reason this hits hard is bc i hold myself off from forming any sort of personal connection w celebrities or public figures but never felt the need 2 do that w him bc he never seemed 2 fit in those categories. he never toured + rarely gave interviews + was out of the business completely fr eleven years + was never anywhere close to being rich. i also jst trusted that he was as kind + genuine + selfless + loving + brave as he came across in the rare interview + in his music + in his fan interactions + in the anecdotes shared abt him by friends or colleagues (who always also seemed to be friends, anyway). his loved ones have said he understood how important his music was to ppl + i rlly hope he did, fully. on twitter a fan shared this email he sent them abt the recovery process fr addiction after they reached out 2 him while in detox. that was a special kind of honesty + love + kindness + bravery. 

everything is heartbreaking in retrospect, which is unsurprising considering the topics of his music + poetry, but even the lighthearted stuff too. complementing the above linked tweet, this very sweet funny charming email he sent a fan tht they posted on twitter is almost unbearable fr its inclusion of the line, ‘its good to be remembered’. he was such a special person + he has done so much + deserved so much that its not right or just of me 2 keep all these thoughts + feelings to myself. he deserves to have them put out in the world in recognition of how deeply special he was. 

[smokeblooded-blog1]

REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.  RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  ! good  luck  !  TAGGED.  i took it from myself bc i was bored  TAGGING. spiritmiinded, soughtdawn, clandestinesque, spyblooded, starveincd, pastryblooded, and anyone else who wants to do it who hasnt already

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  jean otus NICKNAME :  the cigarette peddler / receiver depending on the translation, the cigaretter receiver jean AGE :  thirty BIRTHDAY :  unknown ETHNIC  GROUP :  white NATIONALITY :  german (? subject to change) LANGUAGE / S : english, japanese, german SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  verse dependent, canonically single HOME  TOWN / AREA :  born in the Bādon district of the country (at the beak of the bird) CURRENT  HOME : he currently still lives in Bādon in a large apartment complex (he lives on the top floor, but only because he and his sister manage the building) PROFESSION :  second in command at the ACCA inspections department

PHYSICAL.

SKIN : fair skin that is scarless for the most part, no acne or notable blemishes except for some small birthmarks of no particular shape on his lower back EYES:  sky blue; the perfect blue color. they are often shaped in a tired, disinterested look of a poker face, but when smiling the softness is shown through them the most. more emotion can be seen through jean’s eyes than any other feature on him FACE :  his face is rather long for the most part, not a baby face in any form, but it doesnt look scrawny or make him look sickly either. he has a longer nose as well that is more lengthy on the bridge than the point itself LIPS :   arent particularly special. theyre not too thick, not too thin, and they are often in a straight line / resting. they dont get chapped often because he drinks enough to keep them hydrated and they are not bitten or chewed at in any form. when smiling, small dimples (barely noticiable) come on his cheeks  COMPLEXION : isnt anything particularly special. its not like he keeps his skin flawless (he has no particular interest in that), but jean is one of the lucky ones who is blessed to not have much acne. he cleans his face in the shower / when its dirty, but with that taken out of the picture, jean doesnt participate in washing it to the excess. its just naturally free of acne and other blemishes. he doesnt get red faced either, nor does he (or would he) wear makeup to cover it up BLEMISHES : besides the small birthmarks on his lower back, he doesn’t have any SCARS :  none TATTOOS :  none HEIGHT :  177.5cm / 5′10″ WEIGHT :  72.57kg / 160lbs BUILD :  has muscle, but nothing extraordinary. his strongest muscle point is in his wide / broad shoulders, but the rest of body just has lean muscle. he appears rather thin, so you wouldnt be able to tell he had much muscle unless stripping him down / seeing him shirtless / etc. he has a flat stomach, but there isnt much developed muscle through his stomach. the abs are there, but nothing noticable, really FEATURES :  nothing particularly notable ALLERGIES : bee stings. there arent many bees in Bādon, but when jean travels to other districts he often has to bring medicine with him just in case he does get stung USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  golden hair with an undercut underneath a near-bowl hair style USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  he typically is expressed with a poker face. jean doesnt smile often, or really show many other expressions for that matter, but all of his expressions are vibrant (but short lasting). his smile comes out a lot when hes drunk USUAL  CLOTHING : typically hes seen wearing his ACCA uniform, with or without the jacket 

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :  losing the people hes close to (i.e lotta and niino for the most part) ASPIRATION / S :  completing his work every day, leaving ACCA somewhere down the line, finding niino (post ep8) POSITIVE  TRAITS :  adaptable, calm, candid, capable, compassion, determined, easygoing, empathetic, faithful, friendly (though it sometimes seems otherwise), honest, open-minded, punctual, etc NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  absent-minded, bored (sometimes), distracted, dull (before getting to know him), oblivious, etc MBTI : DEFENDER (ISFJ-A) ZODIAC : virgo (subject to change) TEMPEREMENT :  phlegmatic SOUL  TYPE / S :  the helper ANIMALS :  mouse VICE  HABIT / S :  SMOKING FAITH :  christian (however, he is not very spiritual. religion does not matter much in his life, he just has his basic beliefs in the entity itself) GHOSTS ? :  yes, but not a strong belief AFTERLIFE ? :  yes REINCARNATION ? : probably not ALIENS ? :  yeah he would POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  ACCA EDUCATION  LEVEL :  high school graduate

FAMILY.

FATHER :  a poor man prior to managing an apartment complex (the one that was passed to jean and lotta after his death) that does not have much known about him. jean doesnt talk about him much because of his higher fondness towards his mother, but his father was not a particularly bad man. currently deceased from a train wreck MOTHER :  a woman who was formerly the second princess of Dowa, but was removed from the royal roster for the sake of the country. she kept this to herself, even her husband and children when she met them / they were born, because she had faked her death to become a commoner on the streets. currently deceased from a train wreck SIBLINGS :  lotta otus, approximately eighteen to twenty years old, is the younger sibling of jean. she has a striking resemblance to her mother, as jean notes, and currently lives with him in their shared apartment on the top floor. has a love for bread, pasteries, and just food in general really. she and jean are quite close to one another EXTENDED  FAMILY :  king falke II (jean’s grandfather, the current king in power), prince schwan (cousin), other royal family members NAME  MEANING / S :  jean’s first name in hebrew quite literally means “gift from God” while otus means “keen of hearing” in Greek HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :  historically speaking, jean is of a royal family bloodline. he does not know this for most of his life, nor does he care about it once he finds out that he is apart of it. he would have been the next king in line instead of schwan if not for his mother being removed off of the roster, but his bloodline is still all the more royal

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  he hasnt read a book unrelated to work in some time, so he doesnt really have one MOVIE :  see above 5  SONGS :  jean listens to a lot of untitled instrumentals, mostly because it appeals to him. he will listen to other things on and off, but his favorite thing is typing in something along the lines of “relaxing music” in the search bar and clicking one of the 8 hour videos and just letting it play. he doesnt need to know the tracks, theyre good enough for him like this DEITY :  speaking as hes christian, god / jesus obv HOLIDAY : christmas MONTH :  he doesnt have one SEASON : spring. jean likes things to be mild and, despite how flimsy spring can be, he doesnt mind it too much. he likes when its not too hot, not too cold, but doesnt like it to be as chilled and rainy as it can be in fall. spring brings about rain as well, but not nearly as often as fall does, so this is a higher preference for him PLACE : at the bar / anywhere with niino, at home / anywhere with lotta, a bakery, the roof of the apartment complex WEATHER :  he likes sun, but he doesnt like when its too hot. it has to be like, mild, because if its too hot then its uncomfortable for him. he likes when its breezy as well but, like previously said, not too much. just enough so that it isnt chilly SOUND :  niino / lotta’s laugh, a gentle breeze blowing, rain SCENT / S :  strawberry, cigarette smoke, baking bread, faint cologne scents (i e: a specific brand that niino wears), warm food cooking TASTE / S :  strawberries, tobacco, bread (specifically tough bread) FEEL / S :  the cigarette between his fingers, people he trusts rubbing his back, people he trusts petting his hair, silk ANIMAL / S :  cats NUMBER :  he doesnt have one COLORS :  blue

EXTRA.

TALENTS :  figuring out when someone is lying to him (for the most part), investigating BAD  AT :  getting close to people, expressing his emotions in a way that isnt just deadpan / poker faced, cooking, holding his liquor, dealing with social events (he isnt anxious, he just doesnt like being at them that much) TURN  ONS :  body worship (receiving), care, confidence, dirty talk, minimal marks, praise, soft biting (more to be added most likely) TURN  OFFS :  being too rough (he likes it softer, more making love-esque), having to beg too much, too much teasing (a little is okay) (more to be added most likely) HOBBIES :   drinking with niino, smoking (is this considered a hobby? idk), listening to music, going to bakeries TROPES :  “Royal blood”, “Smoking is cool”, etc QUOTES :  “I never noticed I had an observer you’d assigned to me. But he isn’t a straightforward guy.” (to Grossular, about Niino) || “I smell tobbaco on you.” || “I try not to think of my subordinates as exceptional. After all, doubting them is my job.” (to Eider)

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?           A1 :   what does ??????? this question even mean asldkfj Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?           A2 :   itd probably be a lot of soft music. nothing super upbeat like pop and nothing like rock either. itd be maybe soft indie music, instrumentals, stuff like that Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?           A3 :   you know, i honestly wasnt going to write any muse from this fandom? i figured the rp part of it would be dead after i couldnt find anyone after some time, but a few of my friends got wound up with the show after i talked about it so much and after they decided to make blogs, i made the decision to join them. even though i dont get that many interactions and this blog is still extremely new, i love being on jean. hes a really good character and im glad my friends convinced me to write him Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?           A4 :   honestly, it didnt come immediately. i never disliked jean, but i thought he was rather plain at first, which is to be understandable when you know how he is. i didnt think there was anything striking about him at all and i was more attracted to niino (i still am attracted to / love niino). that said, jean started to come to live more as the anime progressed and i found that hes really just a sweet bean and is VERY cute and i love him so so much. i think it was episode 3 when he was blushing / being precious and adorable while drunk that really got me getting gay for him Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.           A5 :  definitely the fact that he smokes. i dont hate people because they smoke, but i have an extreme aversion to smoking due to the fact that i not only have asthma and its very bad for me to be around, but because of the fact that it smells awful Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?           A6 :  mmm, i think we’re similar in the fact that we’re pretty introverted and / or reserved and we like being away from social events and such Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?           A7 :   i hope he likes me. i love him so Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?         A8 :   honestly ? all of the interactions on my blog so far are great. my niino spyblooded and i already have like a kajillion threads and he loves their niino so so much <3. clandestinesque and i have an interesting thread and im not quite sure where we’re going to go with it but ive enjoyed it so far !!. spiritmiinded / astrallance and i also have good interactions too. we had great ones when i was still on keith too and im super happy that im still writing with them over here :’) Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 :   i  dont really get inspiration, im just kinda here, writing because i enjoy it lmfao Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?           A10 :   idk exactly but 2-3 hours probably ? longer than it took me to complete keiths i know that