#i’m sure it’s me just being overly critical of myself

[kate-bot]

I NEED more peppino x gus

don’t worry just because i stopped drawing them for like 2 seconds doesn’t mean i am not constantly thinking about these homos 🫶🫶🫶 i’ll find time to draw more of them i promise

[crushmeeren]

Aziraphale/Male Reader

Warnings; The work below contains angst, smut and fluff. Top! Aziraphale, Bottom! Reader, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, kissing, Cursing, Crowley being a good friend and I couldn’t resist letting reader get cream pied at the end.

Note; To my lovely anon requestor for this one shot, I hope you enjoy! I loved writing this, I’ve never written any angst before so hopefully it translates well. I also amused myself while writing this so there’s that.

AO3 Link; Millenia😈

Word Count; 8.7k

You’ve come to the conclusion, that this entire mess with Aziraphale, really only started when Crowley came up with the idea for a fucking suggestion box. Of course, you didn’t know the demons name back then, only by the color of his hair.

You noticed the white haired Angel and the red head when you were flying by, on your way to some stupid meeting or another. As you passed, your ears strained, and you could only catch a snippet of their conversation. The words you did catch, were intriguing to say the least. Hearing the words “suggestion box” and “Almighty” in the same couple sentences had been all it took to make you stop in your tracks and shoot towards them. It peaked your interest. You thought about how useful a thing like that could be. You thought to yourself that it wouldn’t do any harm to have something like that. You had been wrong.

As you came to a stop you braced your wings, tensing the muscles in your back. They kept you afloat, suspended in air next to the other two. Your appearance startled them and they looked at you, eyes wide, speechless. Their wings twitched in surprise. As you took a second to take in the other Angels, you felt a spark of recognition looking at the one with white hair. You realized it was Aziraphale, an Angel you had come to know recently. Not closely, but you were acquainted at that point.

“Either of you want to tell me about this “suggestion box” idea?” Flapping your wings gently, you looked between them. A swift movement of your neck and you had noticed the expression on Aziraphales face made him look as pale as a ghost, as if he had been terrified they were already getting caught. You’re a bit higher up on the food chain, a dominion, so truthfully, you could understand the hesitation. Although you weren’t there to criticize or punish, genuinely curious about their discussion.

You felt the warm swooshing of stars shooting behind the three of you. They had filled up the galaxy with their beautiful bright light. It made your spine tingle pleasantly as you waited in an awkward silence for an answer. You pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow, looking to the red head instead, who wore a grin. He looked overly proud of his idea. It was Crowley who had broken the tension, mouth pulled into a wide smile.

“Right, so I was just speaking to Aziraphale here about a suggestion box. It’s more or less a place where we can write down our ideas to the Almighty and then she can look them over. Of course she’d decide whether they were worthless or not but I think it’s the thought that counts,” he said brightly, fidgeting in place. He looked like he was brimming with too much energy. Not an ounce of awkwardness or unease radiated from him anymore.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, his pretty face had still looked stricken at your presence. Mouth turned downwards, eyebrows pulled together. You had felt a strange sensation in your chest when you looked at his face, it was a bit of an aching feeling. It had felt very unpleasant. Extremely unsettling. You gave Aziraphale a soothing smile in an attempt to make him feel better. You hadn’t been sure then, why you cared so much about how the Angel felt.

“Look, don’t worry about this, I’m not here to get anyone trouble. I was truly curious about this and I’d have to say I think it’s a good idea,” you said, trying your best to convey you meant no harm.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Crowley exclaimed, sounding satisfied someone else had agreed with him.

“The Almighty does not take suggestions! Furthermore, who are we to question the Almightys plan?” Aziraphale said, tone desperate. He looked around frantically, to see if anyone else had been near by listening, anxiety twisted coldly in his belly. Icy tendrils had started to crawl through his veins. You had noticed however, that despite his tone of voice, his demeanor had seemed to calm down, if only a little bit, from the reassuring words you had used.

You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He had felt warm beneath your palm. It had ignited something in you, something sharp, something warm. It startled you even more than you had been when you caught yourself caring about the Angels feelings. It was when he turned those pretty blue eyes on you, that you felt the breath punched out of your chest. You paused for a moment, feeling urgently that you should have been more concerned about it. You shook it off for the moment anyways.

“Aziraphale, this isn’t a bad idea. It couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions, could it?” you said, taking your hand off his shoulder. His cheeks had been dusted with a barely their pink color from the contact from your hand. You had ignored that too.

“Exactly! It can’t do much harm,” Crowley piped up, making eye contact with you.

“Of course it can! What are the two of you thinking? A word of advice if I may? Be extremely careful saying things like this, you never know who’s listening.” Face contorted into an uneasy expression. Crowley, at that moment, had raised a wing to shield the three of you from an oncoming meteor shower. You and Crowley had shared a look, mentally agreeing to continue this conversation later.

You had glanced at Aziraphales side profile, admiring his sweet features until you had felt that uncomfortable sensation again. The one that had felt overly warm, making your wings itch as you scrunched your eyebrows in contemplation. You decided, at the time, it was probably nothing to worry about. The three of you had watched on in silence, admiring the meteors and taking a moment to appreciate the work Crowley had done on his little corner of the universe.

—————————————————————-

As it turns out, those feelings were absolutely, without a doubt, something to be concerned about. As you come back to your reality, you mull over the decisions that hell has plagued you with making recently. Your chin rests in the palm of your hand, the bone of your chin digging into your skin. Sitting in an uncomfortably hard throne chair in the pits of hell, you look at all the nasty demons under your command. They’re all idiots really, but you suppose they get the job done. Your eyes are sharp as you think about how they really need to change the color pallet down here. Everything’s in muted and dull colors of gray and green, making it look disease ridden.

“Bit depressing down here lately, don’t you think?” The voice comes from your right and you lazily turn your head to the side, letting your hand fall to your lap. You look at the source of said voice where it sits next to you, in his own hard as fuck throne chair. You raise your eyebrow at him.

“What the hell are you on about? It’s always been depressing down here Crowley,” you say, laughing humorlessly. The red headed demon lets out a snort, a breath of air that he pushes hastily out of his nose.

“Yes I suppose you’re right. Although now that you’re in charge, can’t you liven up the mood a little bit?” he jokes, grinning cheekily at you.

“Not a chance in hell! You know this is all your fault right? We’re only down here because of you,” you tease, trying to bite back a smile. Crowley lets out a groan of frustration and tilts his head backwards, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh c’mon! That was almost 6,000 years ago! You’ve got to let that go at some point you cheeky bastard. Besides, you agreed with me that it was a good idea!” Animatedly waving his hands around, he looks at you with an irritated expression you know isn’t real. When his serpent eyes make contact with yours, you can’t hold back your laughter. Your head tilts backwards as your laughter rings out, startling some of the demons in the same area. You pay no attention to those idiots. You do know, that for as much shit as you give Crowley, you know you wouldn’t have survived hell without him.

You two had become quite close in the last 6,000 years, as close to being family members as demons like the two of you could be. Of course, you both still kept in touch with Aziraphale as well, but that’s just a different beast entirely in itself. Truthfully, the suggestion box had only planted the seed of rebellion in you. It grew over time, spiraling out of control as your feelings for Aziraphale grew. Those feelings, the love and consequently lust, are really what made you fall from heaven. As Crowley grumbles next to you, you’re pulled into another memory. One that never fails to make a lump form in your throat and the chilly fingers of anxiety wreak havoc, twisting your insides until they suffocate.

——————————————————————

“Aziraphale,” you breathe out, watching the Angel walking up to you. Your heart rate picks up speed, thumping painfully against your sternum. The two of you have been spending time together, more often than not, since that impromptu meeting where Crowley spoke about suggestion boxes. That was a few hundred years ago. The meet up you’re about to have with Aziraphale, you know is not going to go so well.

Your hands shake as he saunters up to you, face lighting up brightly, like a star. He always looked so excited to see you. The thought hurts your head and your heart squeezes painfully. You wave at him in greeting. You’ve known for a long time that you’ve loved him. It’s been at least a couple hundred years of knowing your heart beats solely for him.

As frowned upon as human feelings are, you couldn’t stop it. It’s like getting into a car wreck, you see the oncoming car rapidly approaching, but it’s too late. No matter how hard you try to pump the brakes. You also realized long ago that, from his head to his toes, Aziraphale is beautiful. A work of art. There’s a reason such enchanting paintings have been made about Angels.

“Hi lovely,” Aziraphale says, voice soft and tender. “You wanted to meet with me?” Smiling so preciously at you, like you hung the moon for him, you feared you would melt right there. Immediately you feel nauseous. You’re sure you’re going to be sick, stomach rolling painfully. You manage a weak smile, taking in his happy appearance. You hadn’t told him about how you felt yet. Initially you thought that would be your doom, but no, love wasn’t going to be the cause of your demise. It’s lust.

Lust was something you hadn’t experienced before. When those warm, tingly, aroused feelings and thoughts started seeping into your brain, you knew you were fucked, metaphorically. You yearned for something you’ve come to know as making love to the Angel. You wanted to watch his sweet expressions, feel the searing heat of his insides and let him take you apart and put you back together again.

That’s when you felt petrified. You felt it in your bones, that lust was the breaking point. Heaven could tolerate love, God is all about love, but once they knew about your lustful desires, the sins you were committing, it was over. It’s not as easy to hide when you’re higher up in the Angel hierarchy. Granted you weren’t scared for Aziraphale, if he even felt the same way. No, it’s only a real problem the higher up you are. Now, it was only a matter of time before you fell. Just like Crowley. Gods, you hope you could find the fucker once you get to Earth.

“Yes Angel, I- there’s something important I need to tell you,” you say, letting out a shaky exhale. You clasp your trembling fingers together so tightly your knuckles are white. Your face must be pale, it must convey the amount of fear and pain in your expression. You watch Aziraphales face crumple when his eyes flit back and forth, studying your face.

“Dear, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, beginning to pull at the edge of his sleeves, feeling anxious. You chew on your bottom lip, looking into his pretty blue eyes, your body flushes hotly. You groan internally, feeling stuck on the edge of a cliff as you feel the strong urge to tell him. He deserves to know before you fall. Who knows when you’ll see him again. That thought makes you sick all over again. You open your mouth to speak, feeling the words physically build in your throat as you tremble, feeling dizzy. Yet something else comes out entirely.

“I, Angel I just,” you groan outwardly, rubbing your face with your hands briefly. “I can’t do this anymore.” Your heart stops, breath caught in your chest. A chill runs down your spine. That is not what you wanted to say. It falls silent between the two of you and you start to feel an impending sense of doom, hair prickling at the back of your neck. You watch the Angels expression shift into one of hurt, one of heartbreak. Eyebrows scrunching, lower lip wobbling slightly as he takes in your words.

“What?” he asks. One word, so filled to the brim with hurt. Voice so soft you can barely hear it. It feels like someone has shoved a butcher knife through your chest, wiggling it in until only the handle sticks out. Guilt burns through you, fuck that’s not what you meant to say! You can’t even speak, mouth dry, icy fear pumping through your veins. You must have taken a beat too long to answer because you see the Angels eyes well up with tears, his eyes shining. You desperately take a step forward reaching your hand out for him but he backs away quickly. Shaking his head in rejection of your touch. The Angel turns and walks away hastily. You stand there with your hand outstretched, body numb as the rush is adrenaline fades away.

You bring a shaky hand up to your face and admire your fingers long after the Angel has gone. You should be moving, savoring the little time you have left in heaven. You hear them coming. You can’t lift your feet, it’s like you’re rooted in cement. The heartache on Aziraphales face, the feeling of your heart shredded into pieces and the unwavering guilt consuming you are the last things you felt in heaven. It’s the last thing you remember before you’re waking up with a gasping inhale, laying on the cold, unforgivably hard dirt of Earth. You gaze up at the stars, not moving, feeling empty and dark.

“It’s about time you got your lazy arse down here,” Crowley says, voice coming from somewhere beside you. You hear the sound of cicadas nearby. You don’t even startle at the sound of the demons voice, you laugh humorlessly. You don’t turn your head when you speak.

“I suppose you’re right,” you say, only able to feel the smallest amount of relief at his presence.

——————————————————————-

It’s not the first time you relive the memory and it won’t be the last. It always leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth,a nauseous sensation pinching at your belly sharply. You’re on Earth now, going to meet Aziraphale. He’s convinced you to come over and watch some heart warming movie with him. You shove your frozen fingers into the pockets of your fuzzy coat. Snuggling your face deeper down into the warm, soft scarf wrapped around your neck. You’re taking in all the signs around you as you walk down the streets of SoHo, towards the bookshop. Maggie waves at you from the record shop, you return it with a wiggle if your fingers, face never leaving your scarf. You notice you’re able to see your breath puffing out like a dragon.

Things after you fell were never the same. It took thousands of years for Aziraphale to look in your direction, let alone speak to you again. The two of you using Crowley as some sort of bloody messenger boy. Which he did not take to kindly, always grumbling about how you should just fix things and tell Azirapahle the truth. You didn’t. It was only in the last 50 years that things have gotten somewhat normal between you and the Angel. Your chest aches, dully throbbing as you think about how this entire time the Angel thought you didn’t love him. When in reality all you’ve ever longed for was to to be with him. He has long since carved his existence into your heart, making himself at home. You’ve only ever loved him, heart beating for him, existing for him. It’s been that way since the beginning, even if you were too much of an idiot to realize it back then and too much of a coward to tell him.

The bell to the bookshop jingles overhead as you push the door open. Warm air blasting you, warming your frozen limbs. You reach up and pull down your scarf, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as you step inside, letting the door shut softly behind you.

“Angel! I’m here,” you call out, walking down the steps further into the building. You look around the shop, taking in its cozy atmosphere. Aziraphale pushes open the swinging door of the kitchen with his foot, walking out carrying two cups of what you assume is tea. He smiles adoringly at you. After all this time, the way he looks at you has never changed.

“Finally dear! I was worried the tea would get cold before you showed up. Were you busy with something?” he asks, voice sound happy and bright. You look at him lovingly, eyes soft, gentle smile pulling on your lips. You wave a hand dismissively before you take off your coat and scarf, placing them on the chair nearby you.

“Sorry Angel, Crowley needed my help with something. You now how helpless he is without me,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully. You take the cup of tea from him gratefully, wrapping your tingly fingers around the soothing warmth of the mug, humming happily. Aziraphale laughs at your comment, holding his own cup.

“Yes yes, the old boy would never survive without your leadership,” he says sarcastically, playing along with you. You smile and run a hand up through your short hair, brushing the locks off your forehead. It makes you feel so warm and content that things are going well with you two. You look down at the light brown liquid, raising the cup and taking a sip. You feel the warmth snake down your throat and smolder in your belly.

“How have you been?” you say, smiling cheekily. Aziraphales cheek turn a pretty pink and he takes a sip of his own tea before he responds.

“I’ve been well love, been missing the two of you if I’m being honest.” Averting his eyes, Aziraphale clears his throat softly and sets down his mug. You melt into a fucking pile of mush at his words, heart thudding painfully. You take a step closer, wanting so badly to reach out and touch him, but you don’t. Instead you smile lovingly at him, waiting until he makes eye contact with you.

“We’ve missed you too Angel,” you say sweetly, letting your tone of voice convey how you feel. The Angel turns scarlet as he notices how close you’ve gotten, startling slightly when he realizes he can see your eyelashes. He takes a step back, feeling flustered and overwhelmed about the warm, tingly feelings you’re giving him and fidgets nervously. Once again pulling on the sleeves of his cardigan. You watch him, the feeling so bittersweet at his consistent nervous behavior. You set down your cup of tea on his desk, clapping your hands together once. It makes Aziraphale jump.

“Right! Well let’s get cozy and watch the movie you’ve been dying to show me,” you say, starting to take off towards the couch placed on the other side of the shop. It’s in a room hidden from the front, not for customers. Aziraphale bites back a smile behind your back, butterflies fluttering dangerously in his belly and he follows behind you quickly, cups of tea forgotten in their places.

The two of you end up on the Angels, surprisingly soft and fuzzy, large three seater couch. Somehow you’ve let Aziraphale manage to convince you to watch the live action version of Winnie

the Pooh. He thinks it’s heartwarming. Granted, it does make sense the Angel wants to watch it, seeing as he’s memorized all the books. You’re both fairly close, thighs almost touching. You each have your respective soft blankets covering your laps. You’ve toed off your shoes and tucked your feet up next to you, leaning against the back of the couch. Azirapahle also shoeless, sitting with his feet resting on the floor, ankles crossed.

Aziraphale laughs at something Eyore says and you don’t really pay attention to the movie, you’re too fascinated by the Angel next to you. You try to focus your eyes on the screen but it’s really hard when you feel the heat from Aziraphales arm seeping into your skin through your long sleeved shirt. Your hands twitch in your lap. You noticed the Angel is trying to talk to you when he pokes your shoulder harshly.

“Hmm?”, you question, without turning your head.

“I was asking if you wanted some popcorn dear. Where’s your head at? In the clouds?” he teases, giggling softly. You turn your head to the right to look at him and you startle realizing how close you are to his face. You don’t answer. You inhale, breathe getting stuck in your throat as your eyes quickly track back and forth, looking into his eyes. Immediately your body flushes, cheeks burning. You notice the intense look in Aziraphales eyes as he involuntarily glances down at your lips. He doesn’t say a word.

Your heart beats even faster when you catch his eye movement. The air between you two feels like something thick, like warm molasses. You shift your body gently on the couch, angling your body towards his more. Aziraphales cheeks turn almost a bloody red color, flush traveling down his neck. Time feels like it’s suspended. You lean just a centimeter closer and your lips are almost brushing.

You think about if the Angel will reject you or not, how it would feel like someone wrapped sharp talons around your heart and forcefully ripped it from you chest. It can’t be worse then the way you hurt him in the past. You think about how’s he probably terrified right now, confused as hell. Guilt throbs in your chest and you realize suddenly, with absolute clarity, you have to kiss him. You have to show him, tell him how much you love him. Even if he doesn’t return the feelings, he deserves to know and you will no longer be a spineless coward about it. You feel your pulse in your fingertips as you bring your hand up to brush your knuckles over his cheek, hand trailing softly down his face before resting on his shoulder.

“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, voice tender. You wait patiently for his answer. A few seconds pass as you watch the battle the Angel has internally. Your worried you’ve overstepped.

“Yes,” he breathes, voice equally as gentle. Then you’re pressing your lips to his. They feel silky, plump and they fit perfectly to yours when you tilt your head. You feel him push back eagerly, hands coming up to fist the front of your shirt. The heat between you both flares, blazing through your veins as your lips start to roll with his urgently, fingers gripping his shoulder tightly. You’ve just slipped your tongue out to lick at his bottom lip, swallowing one of his sweet moans and then he’s ripping himself away, pushing you backwards onto the sofa in the process. You land with a surprised oof sound coming out of your mouth.

“Wait- wait, love, oh heavens, I can’t do this. You’re only kissing me because I wanted you to. I’ve loved you for so long dear and my heart can’t take it if this isn’t real,” he says, panicking and breathing heavily, seeing his eyes well up with tears the way they did so many years ago. You sit up quickly, your eyes stinging as you watch his face. You’re determined to not let him go this time. You lurch forward and you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, sure that he can feel the rapid pace of your heart. You know you can feel his. It beats just as quickly. The warmth of his body bleeding through your shirt. Aziraphale stays where’s seated, shaking slightly and pierced to the spot. He doesn’t hug you back.

“No, no that’s not why I did it Angel. This is real, I swear.” You push back from the embrace and frame his face with your hands. You feel the soft, heated skin of his cheeks under your palms. You look into his eyes, your facial expression violently serious. You feel everything you’ve wanted to say for more than a millennia start rushing up your throat, words shoving at each other to be the first out of your mouth. You feel your cup runneth over and you’re spilling your heart out.

“Angel, Aziraphale, I’m so sorry for what I said so long ago. I was just so scared and I know thats not an excuse. I can only

hope to atone for some of my sins and hope you’ll forgive me. I love you, I have always loved you. Ever since the beginning, ever since we spoke to Crowley about that damned suggestion box,” you say, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

The Angel laughs a watery laugh. “I loved you when I fell, I loved you when I became a leader in hell, I loved you when we weren’t speaking and I love you now,” you say, voice getting choked up. Aziraphale stares at you, a couple tears slipping free and running down his cheeks, tickling your skin as he lets out a soft laugh. He’s never looked so happy. He brings his hands up to hold your wrists, fingers wrapping delicately around the bone.

“I love you too,” he whispers, pressing forward to connect your lips together again. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. There’s no fireworks but instead a feeling of coming home, the sensation you get when you take the first sip of a warm drink after you’ve been outside in freezing weather. Your heart pulses with sweet love and your head feels fuzzy.

This time you’re moaning into his mouth, as your lips move together slickly, feeling his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You let go of his face, hands dropping to his shoulders, you dig your nails in through the fabric of his shirt. He lets his hands fall to your waist, tugging slightly at the clothing there, indicating he wants you to come closer. You decide to take it a step further and break from the kiss, noticing his lips are deliciously swollen and red. Aziraphale lets out what sounds like a protesting noise. You laugh, pressing a hand to the middle of his chest so he leans against the back of the couch. You hastily grab both of your blankets off your laps and toss them to the side.

Raising up on your knees, you swing your left leg over both of his and move to straddle his hips. A thigh pressing onto either side of his as you sit down fully in his lap and the hard, hot length of his cock presses up against your arse. You are able to somewhat feel the length and the thickness of his dick. It gives you an idea of what you’re about to be stretched open with. You don’t really care about size, seeing as you have no experience, but you know he’s about to split you in half. You watch him bite his bottom lip and his eyes trail your body slowly. Your eyes widen when his hands reach out to hold your waist, you let out a soft gasp in response.

You grip his shoulders tightly once again and grind down into his lap, feeling your already half hard cock thicken as blood rushes south. When your cock presses against his, even through your jeans, it feels as if warm honey is dripping down your spine, collecting and pooling in your belly. You watch as Aziraphales mouth drops open, eyebrows scrunching. His eyes are watching you, lustfully when you press down even harder. His head tilts backwards against the cushion and he groans from the contact.

“Oh!, oh, oh dear, that feels so good, I positively need to have you. Please my love, you’re so pretty, I love you so much,” Aziraphale begs, gasping on an inhale as his head comes back up to see your face again, moaning lowly when you grind your cock against his again.

“Fuck, yes. More than yes, I want you to make love to me so terribly bad, please,” you cry out, feeling your dick twitching in your jeans and pressing against your zipper. You bite your lip and move back and forth slowly in his lap, savoring the feel of his cock. You lean in and brush your soft lips over his neck, trailing sweet kisses up to his jaw and then up to his ear before you whisper against it.

“I love you, please, take me now Angel. I need you,” you say, voice edging on a whine. His fingers tighten brutally around your hips, as he moans from somewhere deep in his chest. He stares at you when you lean back in his lap, his eyes half lidded.

“Will you get naked for me my love?”, he asks, voice low and husky, smooth like butter. You feel a shiver vibrate through you, nodding quickly you stand up off the couch. You waste no time shedding your clothes until you’re in your briefs only, dick straining against your underwear. Aziraphales eyes roam up and down your body slowly, biting his bottom lip as he does. You fidget in place under his gaze and watch as the Angel pulls his cardigan off by the sleeves, tossing it aside as he reaches for the edge of the soft tee he was wearing. He pulls it up and off his head. It quickly finds its place on the floor. Your mouth goes dry as you finally see Aziraphale without a shirt on. Gods, he’s so pretty and so pale, squishy in all the right places. You notice his nipples are a soft pink color. Your cock throbs again.

“Sit down for me love,” he commands softly, raising up from the couch so you can take his place. You waste no time and sit down on the couch, letting your legs fall open so he can fit in between. He steps between them and you almost sob with joy as the Angel falls to his knees between yours, sitting on his calves, the action so seductive you feel like you could cum in your underwear. You palm your cock through your briefs, quickly squeezing your shaft and sigh at the brief relief and pleasure that sings through you. You know your cheeks are red as you focus on the Angel. You watch his hands as they come up and hook into your waistband, tugging gently, asking permission. Nodding eagerly, you remove your hand from your dick.

You lift your hips off the couch and he tugs them down urgently, slipping them off your legs. Your thighs fall open again and he runs his soft hands up the sensitive skin of your legs, pressing his thumbs into the creases between your cock and your thighs. It makes you jolt, cock bobbing up and smacking against your lower belly. You cry out, fingers digging into the couch cushion fiercely.

“Aziraphlale!” you whine. “Don’t tease me, I’ve been waiting for way too long for this.” Aziraphales lips tug into a cheeky smile, soft laugh ghosting over the flushed skin of your dick as he leans closer, gripping your inner thighs and pressing them apart even further.

“Darling, I’ve been waiting to get a taste of you for just as long.” Tongue flicking out to lick long, wet stripes from your balls all the way to your tip. You don’t have words to describe the electric like feeling that shoots down your spine. Your whole body erupts into goosebumps as he wraps his sweet lips around the tip of your cock. He sucks gently and your back arches so hard you think it might break. Your nails start feel like they’ll rip through the fabric of the couch.

“Fuck, oh fuck, that’s so good Angel,” you whine, as the wet, silky warmth of his mouth slides up and down your cock. Aziraphale hums around your cock, spit dripping down your shaft, cooling on your balls. His moan sends vibrations through your groin and a wail gets stuck in your throat, coming out as whine. The Angel swirls his tongue around your tip, running his tongue over your slit and bobs his head steadily. His fingers let go over your thighs and he smoothes his hands upwards to grab hold of your hips.

You feel close to you losing your mind, fingers tangling through his white curls harshly, as he sucks the life out of you through your cock. You don’t press on his head, just letting your hands flow with his movement. You melt into the back of the couch as you sink into the sensation of having your cock sucked on for the first time. You keep your eyes open, tilting your head downwards to watch your cock disappear into his pretty mouth again and again. Your belly twists warmly at the sight, making you throb against his tongue. Aziraphale makes eye contact with you and you whimper. He pushes your cock past the back of his mouth and into his throat, keeping you there. He doesn’t even gag.

“Oh my god,” you sob, feeling wrecked as your arch into his throat, fingers tightening in his hair. He sucks harshly as he brings his mouth back up, pulling off your cock with a lewd popping sound. You slump back onto the couch, whining at the loss of his pretty mouth. You notice his lips are even redder as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You definitely don’t make a pathetic sound at that either.

“I know love, I bet you feel so good, getting your pretty cock sucked like that, I’m desperate to keep going though, is that okay my dear?” he asks, voice almost a a purr.

“Yes, please,” you groan, letting go of the Angels hair. He smiles sweetly and takes the moment to snake his hands under your thighs, making you squeak as he yanks you forward until your arse is close to hanging off the edge. He places your right leg up over his shoulder. You bring your left leg up to place your foot on the couch, leg bent at the knee. You feel your thighs flex in anticipation as you watch Aziraphale bring a conveniently lubed up finger to your arse. Butterflies fill your stomach and your eyes widen as you feel his finger circling your hole, massaging it gently.

“Is-is it gonna hurt?” you ask curiously, looking at his face. Aziraphales finger barely dips into your hole, making you gasp and he pauses. Gaze flickering up to look at your face, studying you. Your cheeks burn.

“Have you ever done this before love?” he asks gently, tilting his head slightly as he slips his finger in further, past your rim and to the last knuckle. Your head falls back onto the cushion, teeth clenching at the unfamiliar burn. You squeeze your hands into fists and you shake your head no, flushing even more with embarrassment. You bring your head back up slowly and make eye contact with the Angel. He starts to pump his finger and he’s watching you so intensely you squirm, skin tingling as the burn subsides. The sensation so new and overwhelming, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to take his cock.

“My dear, are you saying I’ll be the first one to make love to you?” Slowly sliding his finger back as he adds a second, pushing both of them in steadily all the way, slipping past any resistance easily. You let out a surprised noise and you push your arse down into the movement of his fingers, the stretch on your rim feeling like a dull throb.

“Yes! You’re the first one, fuck,” you curse. Aziraphale lets out an excited noise and leans forward to suck a bite into your chest, teeth nipping at your skin as his thick fingers stretch your arse. You feel a sharp pinch as he sucks the skin into his mouth, breaking the blood vessels, before soothing it over with his tongue. You moan his name sweetly and it makes the Angels dick twitch where it’s trapped in his pants.

“I can’t believe I get to be the first one inside of you my love,” Aziraphale giggles, nuzzling against the skin of your chest, moving to the left to swipe his tongue over your nipple once before leaning back, never stopping the rhythm of his fingers. You feel like you’re drowning in the sensation of his slick fingers dragging against your walls, fucking you open.

“Aziraphale, oh gods, just- I need you, please?” you ask, wanting to feel the Angels cock stretching you instead.

“Yes, yes of course my love, do you feel like you’re prepped enough?” he asks gently, looking into your eyes. You nod, bringing up a hand to brush your fingers over his chest. He bites his lower lip and you feel the Angels fingers slowly pull out, the strange sensation making you wince.

“It’s okay my love, I’m here, I won’t let it hurt okay? Let’s move on, I need to be inside of you just as badly,” he coos, letting your leg fall from his shoulder, you prop it up on the couch. It mirrors your other leg, both bent at the knee, feet braced up on the couch. You’re spread open wide like this, but you’re not embarrassed to be exposed to him. Your cock lays against your belly, flushed, unbearably hard and you can feel the the precum leaking from your slit, leaving sticky marks on your lower abdomen. Aziraphale watches your movements as he raises up from sitting on his calves to his knees so he’s lined up better with your arse.

“Can I see your cock now?” you ask casually, watching his hands move down to the button of his pants. He laughs softly, amused and his eyes track over your face.

“Of course my dear, I know you’ve been just gagging to see it. I bet you’ve thought about how it looks, and about how it feels. Haven’t you?” he teases, voice a bit condescending. You blush, embarrassed, because yes you’ve thought about how it looks and imagined how it would feel inside of you. Your pouting facial expression is enough of an answer for him and he bites his bottom lip, grinning.

You ignore his smug face and reach a hand out to run down his chest again, wanting to feel his, soft, pale skin under your palm. You scratch his skin lightly with your nails on the way down and it makes the Angel whine, his hands pausing on the buttons of his pants. You smile a bit smugly and he raises an eyebrow at you, hands moving, unbuttoning his pants and undoing his zipper. He yanks his pants down along with his briefs to the middle of his thighs. Your hand falls from his chest and your eyes open wide watching his thick, pink cock spring free, bobbing a little bit.

“Oh, oh shit, is that gonna fit?” you ask, voice incredulous and maybe a bit nervous.

“It will my love, I’m gonna make it fit,” he replies, ego definitely inflated at your comment. You hum anxiously in response and decide to wrap your fingers around the middle of his shaft, feeling the silky, warm skin. You’re in awe of how he fits in your palm, and you give him a squeeze. That pulls a delicious moan from the Angels throat and your blood ignites once again, pushing away your nerves.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, c’mon Angel, make love to me,” you whine, looking into his eyes and you let go of his cock. He looks like he’s about to protest but he takes a deep breath and nods. He grips the base of his cock and scoots closer, rubbing the tip back and forth over your hole, teasing. You start to wiggle your hips, impatiently and then he grips your wrist with his free hand. He brings it to your cock and wraps your fingers around your shaft before letting go. You look at him questioningly.

“It’s your first time dear, it’ll make it less uncomfortable if you touch yourself at the same time,” he explains tenderly. Your heart flutters, warmth expanding in your chest at the fact the Angels making sure this will feel as pleasurable as possible. You smile lovingly at him as you squeeze the base of your cock. Your eyes flutter shut, pleasure tingling through your limbs. The blunt tip of Aziraphales cock presses against your hole and your eyes fly back open, legs tensing slightly, as you grip your cock tightly.

“Aziraphale,” you whine, feeling a bit panicked as your feel your arse start to stretch.

“Shh, it’s okay love, relax for me okay? You’ve gotta relax baby,” he soothes, feeling his cock press in just a bit more. He runs a hand over your inner thigh, in a comforting way. You nod your head, licking your own palm and starting to pump your cock slowly. The pleasure starts to make your lower half relax as it takes your focus off of the pain. Just like that you feel the tip of his cock pop in past your rim, he accidentally slides in a couple more inches before he stops, releasing the base of his cock and gripping roughly to the undersides of your knees, trying to keep still. You hear him moan lowly through his teeth. The pulses of stinging pain from the stretch rocks your whole body and you grit your teeth.

“Angel, ah, ah, it hurts,” you whine, continuing to jerk your cock, taking away some of the pain. Your free hand rests on the couch.

“Oh love, I know, I know, I promise it’ll feel good soon, do you want me to keep going?” Nails digging into your skin, still holding underneath your knees. You know he’s struggling to stay still, but you trust him, so you nod.

“Keep going please, I can do it,” you say, voice determined. Aziraphale leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I promise I’ll make you feel so good my dear,” he groans, voice strained as he pants, pressing forward, cock filling you all the way until his balls are pressed against your skin. You whimper and nod in response. You can feel him shaking a little bit and the skin of his belly brushes your knuckles as you move your hand. You cry out as you’re stretched to the max, you arse throbbing painfully as Aziraphale pulls his hips back, dick halfway out before pushing in slowly. Aziraphale leans back to straighten up, he presses on the part of your thighs he’s holding, pushing your thighs back towards you as he starts to thrust steadily. Your feet come off the couch where they were perched.

“Ah, ah, ah! Aziraphale!” you wail, fingers leaving your cock and both hands going to grip the cushions. You hold on, feeling like your nails are gonna rip through the fabric as the Angel tilts his hips upwards slightly and starts to continuously brush over a spot inside of you that makes lightening shoot up your spine, a spot that makes you forget you were ever in pain at all. The entirety of the throbbing ache gone as it melts into burning pleasure and you ask yourself why the hell you didn’t do this sooner. You look up to make eye contact with Aziraphale, jaw dropping open, eyebrows scrunching. His gaze is intense as he leans his weight further onto your thighs and subsequently into his thrusts. He’s letting out little moans as you choke out ah, ah, over and over again. You let your head fall back against the couch.

“Oh that’s it isn’t it love? Am I making your pretty arse feel so good? I promised I would,” he says, breathlessly as his hips slam into yours repeatedly, skin smacking together wetly.

“Yes! I-oh fuck, ah, ah, it’s so fucking good,” you lightly sob, starting to feel a strange sensation in your lower belly, like something’s winding up tightly. Your back starts to ache from being folded and you feel a throbbing start up in your cock. You watch it twitch on your belly and your hole starts to flutter. You look into Aziraphales eyes again, feeling flushed and slightly nervous. You watch the Angel struggle to keep his eyes open, feeling your arse clench around him and he notices the way your dick twitches repeatedly.

“Love, you’re about to cum,” he says incredulously, surprised and excited you’re going to cum untouched. Your eyes sparkle in realization. “Just lean into the feeling okay? Let it happen, I’ve got you.” Hips picking up a quicker pace as he thrusts in long and hard movements. You nod, hands coming up to grip the Angels arms for support. Aziraphale thrusts into you a few more times and you feel your orgasm build to a breaking point, knot releasing and your cock kicks hard, warm, sticky release shooting out onto your chest as your mouth opens letting out a howl of pleasure.

“Aziraphaallee!” you wail again, panting hotly as the Angel fucks you through your orgasm.

“Yes, oh yes, good boy, that’s it, cum for me darling. Ah hah, I’m going to cum, you’re so tight,” he rambles, words spilling from his mouth. You nod quickly, starting to come down from the blinding high of your own orgasm, legs shaky as you wrestle them free from his grip, he lets them go, taking a hold of your hips instead. You wrap your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck. Your chests press together and you notice you’ve both started to sweat. Aziraphale presses even closer and nuzzles his face into your neck, breath warming your skin.

“Please, cum for me, I love you,” you whisper, hanging on to him, trying to push the feelings of overstimulation away. He thrusts in short, choppy movements a handful of times, feeling the way your slick, warm arse sucks his cock in over and over before he’s pressing all the way in, pleasure bubbling and melting its way through his limbs. He presses his mouth to your neck and whines loudly into your skin, vibrating through your throat as he fills you with sticky release. He relaxes his weight against your body and you melt back into the couch. You both catch your breath for a moment before you let your legs flop from his waist, feet landing on floor.

“How are you feeling love?” Aziraphale asks, pulling away from your neck. The skin of his chest sticking to yours as he pulls away. Your release now on both your chests.

“I’m, I don’t even know how to explain how good I feel Angel,” you laugh, only groaning a bit as he pulls his softening cock from you. You sit up on the couch, feeling a flashing sting of pain in your lower back. “Oh shit,” you say, hand bracing your back as you crack your spine, stretching the muscles.

“I think my knees are permanently welded to the floor,” Aziraphale groans, placing one hand on the couch cushion and one on the coffee table as he pushes himself up on shaky legs. His knees creak and pop as he stands. Aziraphale snaps his fingers absently, cleaning the mess they’ve made. You laugh at the sound of his knees popping.

“You okay there?” Standing up from the couch, you tease him and stretch your legs out. He glares playfully.

“You’re one to speak dear, I heard the way your back was cracking,” he jokes, tucking his cock away and buttoning his pants back up. He was still shirtless and you admired his bare chest, ignoring his jab.

“Hmm, touché,” you tease, seeing him reach for the shirt he discarded earlier, pulling it on over his head. You realize you’re still naked and you blush a little bit, hands moving to cover your cock. You shift your weight awkwardly, really not wanting to put jeans back on.

“Hey, uh, do you have any pajama pants I could borrow? I don’t really want to sleep in jeans,” you say shyly, looking away from him.

“Oh? You’re staying the night now?”He teases, obviously messing with you. Either way you feel embarrassment rushing through you. Your face must have looked mortified because the Angel quickly speaks again, waving his hands animatedly. “I’m just joking darling! Of course I want you to stay the night, here I’ll give you something to sleep in,” he says, snapping his fingers and a pair of soft plaid pajama pants appear in his hands. He holds them to you in outstretched hands, nodding happily at them. You narrow your eyes and snatch them out of his hands, slipping them on.

“You giant arse, you scared me for a second,” you grumble, also pulling on the soft long sleeve you had on earlier. Aziraphale laughs.

“ I know! I know, I’m sorry dear,” he says, stepping closer, small smile on his lips as he takes both of your hands in his. You lace your fingers together, feeling you’re so full of love you could burst at the seams. You smile in return.

“Fine I’ll forgive you this time, as long as you let me choose the next movie we watch,” you reply.

“That’s perfectly reasonable my dear.” Tugging on your hands so you both sit down on the couch again, he then lets go so he can pull one blanket up over both your laps. You feel satisfied and warm, like a cat who lays in the sunshine and a thought pops into your head.

“Promise me one thing Angel,” you say, pretending to sound serious as you turn your head to look at him.

“Of course, what is it love?” Aziraphale says, looking mildly concerned when he sees your serious expression. You break into a grin.

“I get to be the one to tell Crowley, he’s going to lose it when he finds out,” you laugh, moving to pick up the remote that had gotten flung to the floor earlier. You hear Aziraphales laugh ring out loudly.

“Yes yes, fine dear, you can be the one to tell the old boy,” he says, smiling brightly. You both lean back against the couch, snuggling together as you choose the next movie to watch. You feel happier now than you have in the last several thousand years. Thank gods Crowley had the idea for a suggestion box.

[taintedcigs]

also this is gonna be long as HELL so feel free to ignore me😭 i just wanted to say that im grateful to have ppl who read and love my work, i appreciate all of u soso much i swear u guys have no idea! each ask i get, each comment, rb, tag, i appreciate all interactions and hold them dear to my heart!!!!

ive been struggling a lot mentally lately, and have been feeling immense amount of stress over my grad school applications, work and basically every other aspect of my life. writing has been a good outlet so im happy that i still have it. however, posting on here had been a struggle for me lately, im sure everyone is tired of seeing posts like these and im probably adding on but idc😭

the fandom has felt a bit empty lately and even then i felt sort of excluded? in a sense? like theres some kind of clique in this fandom that im not a part of? idk how to make sense of it. its stupid. to feel this way over a fandom tbh, but i cant control it😭

and then again i also get super judgy of what i write, and get overly critical because of the lack of interaction and notes i get, or because of the hateful anons. it rlly is disheartening bc i love using tumblr as my escape, i love posting on here and connecting with people. writers, readers. it saddens me a lot that it turned into something really stressful for me.

so i have decided to come on here with a new mindset, a more of an idgaf attitude LMAO and WRITE whatever i like or what caters to me without being too worried! and if i can’t seem to do that i’m gonna be taking short breaks more frequently.

i just blabbed all this to basically say that im trying to clear my head, sometimes the negativity gets to me and i want to create a much more positive space for myself!! 😅

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Honestly it may not be your intention or of other people in the conversation but some comments around the sqq light eyes post have really rubbed me off the wrong way. I'm saying this with all the respect in the world and acknowledging your post about how you don't condemn harassment, but even before with the curly haired binghe and overall in danmei fandom it feels overly judgey towards westerners. Like these physical characteristics being a result of "whitewashing" when there's examples of official art or asian artists (the ZeldaCW art you linked) being some of the earliest examples. Most of us don't know Chinese, many don't even speak english and have to rely on MTL. I really appreciate this work you're doing and going to the original source, but I'm not into the gatekeeping tone some people are taking. Like, AHA! I knew this and actually all the people who don't are stupid for regurgitating fanon like it's canon. I'll be honest, there's plenty of fanon I don't like nor agree with, and I also make dumb mistakes myself (it's me, I'm one of the people who'd forgotten the hand scar came from jin lan woops). Sorry if this is too long or overly rambly, also feel free to ignore it. I mostly wanted to share this as a PSA that tone matters, be kind to others, and that preserving canon is not justification to regard people who go with fanon with a high brow. Regards, a non white non asian ESL 3rd world country svsss fan that's been in the fandom for a couple years (I point that out because I've seen way too many times any criticism be attributed to butt hurt white americans).

Thank you for your message!

When I make my posts here, I try my best for a neutral, informative tone, but between neurodivergence and linguistic issues, I’m not always certain exactly how it comes across. Perhaps a bit too blunt, perhaps the academic or formal tone I often use may seem stuck-up… really, I don’t have the best sense of it, though I do try quite hard.

I want to provide information here. This is to provide information for a few types of people: those who wish to maintain canon accuracy, and those who wish to know where an idea might have originated whether or not they care about canon accuracy in their own works.

Some people will hold canon as the most important. Others don’t particularly care. Some prefer fanon. How one interacts with fandom is entirely their own decision. My blog here isn’t trying to tell people they’re wrong. Or tell people that I’m better than they are, or that those who didn’t know something was fanon, or who enjoy fanon, are stupid or otherwise less than those who follow canon.

Fandom is supposed to be fun. I do this because I like analyzing things. Because it might be nice to have a record of details to see where trends came from. Even some things, I haven’t been sure about myself until doing the research, and some I’ve been mistaken on too!

Things can get muddled up. Especially when the wiki is updated with fanon information. It’s not hard for something to be thought of as canon when it isn’t, especially if trying to quickly reference something without reading the book again. No one is better than anyone else for what they do and don’t know about a fictional book.

And when it comes to design choices, there’s no need to jump right to whitewashing. A knee-jerk reaction is common in fandom spaces to anything that may be “problematic,” but sometimes a design is just a design. I only went into more detail on the post regarding LBH’s hair texture because that’s something i have experience with, and it’s not something widely known about that there are differences.

At any rate, there’s no reason to be unkind to others. People should be having fun in fandom. Those who wish to stick to canon should respect those who don’t care to, even if it’s not for you.

My posts are not meant to create a moral judgement against anyone.

If you’re using it for anything but information, then you’re using it the wrong way.

I don’t have the best eye for tone, but I will continue to do my best to maintain neutrality, and informativeness. Everyone who makes conversation on my posts, just because you knew something and others didn’t doesn’t make you better than them. It just means you knew something. Just because you didn’t know something, that doesn’t make you worse— it just means you didn’t know.

Let’s not moralize this sort of thing.

Enjoy the novel, enjoy the adaptations and interpretations that you like.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Appendix 2: Breaking Down the Walls around Each Other—An Interview with Kelsey Cham C.

Kelsey Cham C. is a former collective member of the Purple Thistle who worked with carla as a youth at the Thistle.

Nick and carla: One of the things we’re trying to think through with the notion of sad militancy is the way that Empire gets smuggled into radical movements in spaces through mistrust, fear, rigidity, shame, competition, and so on … but we want to think this through without blaming individuals. It’s not about individual feelings or behaviors; it’s about ways of relating that are coming out of this system.

Kelsey: Yeah, we’re recreating it.

Nick and carla: Yeah, and we’re interested in talking to people that seem to be able to tap into something different, and I think you do that.

Kelsey: (laughs) I’m glad you think so.

Nick and carla: I guess the first question is: does this resonate, does this description of sad militancy make sense to you?

Kelsey: Yeah, it’s funny because I don’t use those terms, but I find myself in situations where we’re having conversations about the exact same things, but with many different folks who are politically aware and trying to create change. It is really hard to not fall into sad militancy; I catch myself being overly critical of either myself or other people in their efforts to organize and create something better and new, or something that’s never been done before. It’s frustrating, and I find myself asking “why is this happening, this constant critique?” It’s totally internalized capitalist patriarchal shit.

I think it’s connected to perfectionism and the desire to do things “the right way” that becomes a part of us—it’s hard to not recreate that when that’s how you grew up and have learned that this is what’s true.

Nick and carla: So what do you think made you get to a place where you’re able to catch yourself and do something else?

Kelsey: That’s a really good question … well, all those things are super isolating. Most people in this culture have experienced that pretty in-depth in their personal lives. I have, and when I’m critical of myself or other people, I try to strive for something that doesn’t exist, I’m always unhappy and I get frustrated, I get angry, I can get violent … those are things that aren’t productive.

I don’t know, I don’t know if there’s one specific thing; I don’t even know if I’m very good at being joyfully militant or whatever. I think my background in karate has helped, though … And basically recognizing that we’re all in this together and we all have a common goal, and making efforts to love each other—not just tolerate each other—but actually see how we can feel love for everyone to some degree. I think we’re capable—maybe that’s naïve or whatever—but I think we’re capable of doing that … that’s probably arguable too.

Nick and carla: Do you think there are things that make rigidity or sad militancy spread?

Kelsey: Yeah for sure, I think people get sucked into stuff, right? I found myself going back to what’s comfortable. If I’m part of a group and people start hating on a certain thing in a way, I think it’s easy for me to get caught up in that. It’s something that I try to catch myself doing and recognize that’s not how I feel at all … it’s old patterns coming up again, and when you’re in new situations it’s easy for those patterns to come out.

Nick and carla: Have you seen spaces, conversations, or practices shift from joyful militancy to sad militancy, or vice versa?

Kelsey: Yes, I would say so. I think I’ve seen spaces where everything has ups and downs, and people have ups and downs—going from sad to joyful to sad again—it’s exciting and then a key person leaves, or a project falls through, or maybe people are not happy with the way that everyone is contributing … sometimes that energy falls or maybe people lose interest.

But sometimes I can shift the energy of an entire crew of people … I find that usually, when people are able to recognize that we’re all in this together and it’s not a battle against each other. I think that’s usually what it is: having that foundation of common vision or goals or whatever. And usually there’s someone who is able to be joyful … in the same way that sad militancy is contagious, joy is also contagious; people get excited by new energy.

Nick and carla: What do you think encourages and sustains joyful militancy?

Kelsey: I dunno … I’m pretty new to this whole way of being I guess, but I think humility is a huge part of it, and also community credit—“we did that together”—and celebrating tiny accomplishments can be really awesome; celebrating each other’s accomplishments, and respecting that stuff. I think part of the sad militancy—just to go back to how it catches on—is because I think in our society we learn to be overly critical and perfectionist … it’s so easy to criticize people’s work and what they’re doing without recognizing what they’re trying to do and what they’re actually accomplishing. At the same time, criticism can be a gift for everyone involved when it’s about learning and figuring things out together.

Nick and carla: So it’s not even that criticism equals sad militancy; is there a way to do criticism that can be joyful?

Kelsey: Oh, totally. I was just talking about this with a friend the other day. I think it’s important to talk to people about how they receive criticism and how they would want to, or if they even can safely, I guess. But for me I think it’s really, really, really awesome when people give me feedback and constructive criticism in a respectful way; even if it’s in a non-respectful way, I’ll take it, I might be angry about it, it might make me irritable or hate on something, but I’ll absorb it as well. All criticisms are gifts because they’re perspectives that I probably didn’t have before and I can work with. And I acknowledge that I can’t make everyone happy and that’s not what I’m trying to do. I want to be as inclusive as possible with the work that I’m doing, but there’s no way that every single person is gonna be super stoked about it. And to receive criticism I also need to have a positive feedback system, where it’s like: if I receive 10 things I’m doing so-called “wrong,” it will make me feel like I’m not doing anything right, and I don’t know what to keep and what to change. It’s like if you’re playing cards and you think I’m just gonna fold and leave every time. But probably there are some things I should keep, so positive feedback is also really important.

carla and Nick: We want to talk about the importance of trust, and the radical potential of trust, without turning trust into some commandment. Does this resonate? Can you talk about the potential of trusting folks up front, and how you saw it play out at the Thistle?

Kelsey: Yeah totally, I think that’s awesome. Actually I think you [carla] were one of the first people to actually trust me without even knowing me. And I was like what the hell? Why? Why? How do you know I’m not gonna just fuck everything up and run away and steal a bunch of money and go? How do you know that? But in trusting me, I was like, holy shit: I trust this situation and this collective twenty times more and I want to give back to it because I’ve been given this opportunity to do something that I’ve never been able to do before, which is awesome.

But I have been thinking about trust and how with trauma we build all these walls and we start to mistrust everything. I have a pretty hard time trusting people. There’s a point where I’m like, this is too personal and too intimate and now my walls are going to go up. I was sitting and thinking about how it’s probably one of the best ways to break down the walls of the system is to break down the walls around each other first, and I think that requires trust.

Joyful Militancy and trust, and compassion, and humility are all tied together, I think: in other cultures, traditional cultures—I don’t know a lot about this—but from what I know, older Indigenous cultures have these ideas of respect, humility, compassion, and I think in karate I’ve seen it and it’s interesting because karate is a martial art, a fighting tool, and one of the things that we learn is that we have to love everyone including our opponents. And that’s the toughest thing to say in this community. People are like “what the fuck, how can you say that, you can’t just love your abuser.” And it’s true, I can’t just let go of everything. It’s not that; it’s being compassionate, I think, to situations.

carla and Nick: What makes it hard to nurture trust? What’s been your experience with trust in your everyday? And in radical spaces?

Kelsey: I feel like trauma is the biggest hurdle for me. From what I see happening around me and my own self, a lot of people—not everyone—but a lot of people who are politically involved and radical are there because they’re the short stick: they’ve been oppressed and traumatized. That’s often what leads people to these ideas and values, maybe? Well, for me that’s true … but I think when we lose trust in anything—either family, or relationships, or the system that we’re part of—we build walls to protect ourselves. And it takes a lot of work to break down those walls, and we need to trust, and when you’re trying to defend yourself all the time, and you don’t trust anything, it’s like a sad circle—a catch-22—and that’s what I’ve seen go on. It’s not just about organizing in the community, it’s not just about unlearning belief systems; it’s also unlearning ways of being in ourselves and that takes a lot of work and a lot of that shit nobody wants to look at or bring up again. And I know a lot of people are like, “this thing keeps coming up and I’m blocking it because it’s too scary.” And I think that that’s keeping us isolated and rigid.

carla and Nick: So there’s like a comfort and safety in remaining rigid, skeptical, untrusting?

Kelsey: There is! This whole world is based on fucking misery and to be joyful is scary because it’s kind of unknown. In capitalist systems, we’re not meant to feel joy; I think it’s about domination and power and gaining respect by taking part, but it has nothing to do with joy. Even now, I feel like people judge me for being too positive and too happy; people think I’m way younger than I am often because of my attitude; they’re like “why aren’t you bitter yet?” It’s really interesting because it’s scary to feel new things and not know where they’re going to take you.

carla and Nick: Can we have the expectation of trust up front? Do you think there’s an alternative to the idea that trust always needs to be earned?

Kelsey: It’s so hard in our society: you gotta earn everything; you earn money, you build trust, and respect. You gotta prove to me that I should trust you, or respect you. And that’s an interesting point; I have a tough time with that, trusting people. But I think it’s a feedback system: probably the more you allow yourself to trust people initially, probably the more well-reciprocated that will be. I felt it: you trust me and I didn’t understand it. That’s how fucked up our system is. Even though I didn’t do anything wrong, or to harm you, I didn’t understand how someone could trust me without knowing me first.

Nick and carla: There’s this perception that all this stuff—trust, curiosity, uncertainty, joy—is naïve: if you’re joyful or trusting you probably just don’t understand what’s going on, or how bad things are. And with that, there’s a perception that only people who are super privileged have the capacity to be joyful. How do you think about joyful militancy and trust in relation to privilege and oppression?

Kelsey: I think some of the most joyful people I’ve met are not coming from privileged backgrounds. I don’t think it’s true that only privileged people can be joyful. It’s a blanket statement and it’s also kind of really oppressive and ignorant to say, I think. I think that’s harsh for me to say, but I think that there’s a lot of people and friends that are coming from privileged backgrounds are some of the most rigid people and the most isolated. They don’t feel at ease and they’re not comfortable, they’re guilty. A lot of privilege makes it difficult to learn how to work cooperatively. But I’ve seen the effectiveness and power—I don’t mean power like people who dominate—I mean power like the energy that comes from compassion and love and real collective work and humility. Humility’s such a huge one.

It’s part of our society to discount that all that as naïve. Naïve is inexperience—what is inexperience? It comes from an ageist perspective: you’re young, you only think like this because you’re young; you haven’t experienced enough. Actually some of the youngest people—kids—are often the most connected and able to absorb and create. It is ageist to associate joyfulness with naïveté. Maybe that’s super harsh to say but I think it comes from our society’s idea of what it means to be an adult, a youth, a child. Those systems are in place to keep us fuckin’ stagnant, and to keep kids stagnant and devalued and powerless.

carla and Nick: Yeah that’s a useful way for us to think about it because it’s easy to make all this into another set of norms: “just be this way.” It’s hard to talk about this in other ways, maybe because part of rigid militancy and activist-speak is constantly prescribing behaviors, and it’s easy to hear joyful militancy as another prescription.

Kelsey: Maybe it’s not a prescription, it is a practice … I’m excited because I’ve been having these conversations with friends. I think it’s really awesome that you’re really intentionally introducing this. Because I think probably the amount of work it must have taken you (carla) to just start off trusting people is a fuck-load, probably … and I’m realizing how important it is to share that … once we have something, we can share it with younger folks so that they don’t have to go through the same struggles to get to these points. I feel like what I’m learning is probably at a way earlier stage in my life than when you probably learned it. And I’ll be able to pass that on to the kids in my life when they’re way younger, like four or five, starting to introduce these ideas, and they won’t have to face the same struggles again, and we can go deeper, and it’s exciting.

Kelsey Cham C. is a community organizer and settler of Chinese and Irish descent. Being involved with projects like the Purple Thistle has brought them depth and insight into trying to understand what the hell is going on in the world. Kelsey is focused on organizing experiential learning projects with youth and adults in gardening, mycology, fermentation, and “ki” (chi) based karate.

[uriekukistan]

Got one for you: top 5 writing pet peeves?

THANK U FOR THE ASK I MEANT TO ANSWER THIS LIKE TWO DAYS AGO BUT I FELL ASLEEP SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG

okay top5 for myself

the word “shrugged”: i swear my characters shrug more in one chapter than i have in my entire life, but i cant seem to get away from the word…although when i put my work into this thing that counts word recurrence, it never makes the top 10, i still feel like i overuse it sm

proofreading: i hate hate hate proofreading….like reading my own writing is just frustrating to me, especially bc i actually write way in advance of when i actually publish it, so things i may have thought were good a month and a half ago i usually end up hating by the time i actually publish them…idk i think a lot of creators are their worst critics, im sure there’s not as much actually wrong w my stuff as i think

mixing action with dialogue: i dont even mind this much when im reading, but seeing a huge section of just dialogue in my own writing has me foaming at the mouth…and i have a hard time visualizing things so it takes me so long to add realistic actions in between certain lines, otherwise i feel like the scene flows weird if i dont do this…

figurative or overly descriptive language: no one has ever said anything bad abt this so i’m not sure why it but i always worry that parts of my writing will come off pretentious? like i’ll write it and be like “wow i cooked” and then i’ll read it back and be like “who tf do u think u are to be writing like that”

writing environment: i swear i need everything just so to be able to write efficiently, its so annoying. perfect caffeination level (not enough = no brain, too much = can’t focus), perfect playlist, comfy clothes and comfy seating position, not hungry but not full etc etc. i can still write without these things but it ends up being slow af. so annoying

top5 for reading others’ writing (ghhhh hope this doesnt come out mean)

poorly formatted dialogue: genuinely if i see dialogue lumped in with paragraphs of text I CLICK OUT im not reading that i’m sorry. it’s a visual thing like it’s overwhelming to read and makes the story flow weirdly, like pleasseeedseese put your dialogue on a new line

UNDERuse of the word “said”: ik this is contrary to most writing advice, but it bothers me fr when ppl go out of their way to avoid words like “said” “asked” “replied”…like sometimes they’re genuinely the best words for the situation, or the synonym that gets used is just not appropriate. when you get into more specific words like that it’s gotta fit well. i’m a big advocate for using modifiers rather than synonyms, like “whispered” “said softly” “said, a hint of softness creeping into their voice” are all different. anyway i hate when im reading and someone uses a synonym for “said” that doesn’t fit the situation

over reliance on physical description for characters: again like the synonyms- time and place. maybe it’s just me, it just feels kinda depersonalizing if youre constantly using physical descriptions when they aren’t relevant, especially in romance. ex: in dancing with a stranger, megumi notices yuuji’s muscles bc he purposely flexes, or the way his eyes catch the sun as part of the “view” on a sunny day, but the rest of they time, he’s thinking of yuuji as kind, warm, talented, etc. it just makes characters feel shallow, and especially in romance, makes the relationship feel shallow. if all megumi noticed about yuuji were his big muscles and loserboy puppy eyes, it kinda cuts the meaning and intimacy from the relationship. also noah fence but it also comes off as kinda lazy characterization

im a liar i cant come up 5 for this i already feel mean for saying what i said 💀 thank u again for the ask !!!! sorry for rambling so much skdjdk

[m-eagain]

Love note to my younger self:

Good morning beautiful younger self,

Yes you! I know you weren’t called that very often, you were mostly told what you weren’t (thin enough) or what you were too much of (too loud)….

But I want you to know you are a beautiful child, full of creativity, curiosity, compassion, kindness, laughter, empathy, intelligence, love. And I see how in all the criticism you learned that physically you would never been good enough (but I want you know you have actually grown into a beautiful woman - remember how that lady who used to give you a lift to school once in a while - I can’t remember her name or her daughters name - they were Portuguese - remember how one day they both said that you reminded them of on of their family members and discussed how you would grow up to be this incredibly beautiful woman with exquisite physical beauty…. Well they knew something that I didn’t know at the time, they clearly recognized your Portuguese heritage and knew how you would mature - and they were right - you do become this exquisitely beautiful woman - you HAVE become this beautiful woman).

I also see in all the criticism that you learned to work harder, try more, be more compliant, be less of yourself and more of who you thought you needed to be to be liked. But I want you to know that the coping mechanisms that you had to use to remain in your moms good books as a child, are not coping mechanisms you need to use now. Firstly you don’t have to be liked by everyone - to be liked by everyone is a bad sign my love - it means you aren’t actually being yourself. So celebrate it when some people don’t like you.

I want you to know that just being who you are, exerts so much less energy than being who you think you are supposed to be. I know this because I am on that journey now of becoming me again and learning to let go of the coping mechanisms and the brick walls and the facades and the need to please everyone, and learn to just be me again. Some days it’s really hard because I’m not sure who I am, and some days it’s really easy because I just relax into my intuition and let go of my egos need to be in control. On those days days where I let go, I am magnificent, I am energized, I am happy, I am attractive and most importantly I don’t worry about what others think and whether they like me, I know that I like myself.

So my love, my younger self, I want you to know that I see you and I love you and I know your pain and your hurt AND I know your beauty, your kindness, your love and I know that sometimes you feel you have to be overly kind, overly giving, overly good to earn the love of others. And yet I’ve learned, the hard way, that being overly anything is damaging to everyone. So today be yourself, listen to your intuition, slow down your pace, give yourself space to just be and before everything else, first love yourself.

I love you,

Megan

[angelasscribbles]

Mother in Law Hell: A Drabble Me This Story

Series: Drabble Me This

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Riley x Liam

Rating: R

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Word Count: 2,154 Once again, I have way exceed the word count for a drabble. Sorry/not sorry lol.

A/N: This is in no way designed to start an argument about bottle v breast feeing. The main problem here is Riley, as the mother, getting her wishes ran over.

My other stuff: Master List.

@twinkleallnight:

The ask: Riley and Liam marry. Connie dies... But Regina who has been so supportive till now starts playing double game with Riley. Riley tries to tell Liam. He doesn't understand. Creates lot of misunderstanding between them leading to the fallout. How do they fix it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley had always gotten along with Regina, but something changed after Constantine died. Regina grieved for a while, as was expected. So, Riley let a lot of the barbs and snide comments slide, chalking it up to grief. It got worse when she got pregnant. And as her belly grew bigger, the barbs got deeper.

“Are you sure you should be eating that my dear?”

Riley paused, sandwich halfway to her mouth and blinked at her mother in law, “What?”

“I mean, is that pastrami?” Regina shuddered a little, “Maybe I can have the kitchen make you a nice salad.”

Regina flagged down one of the maids as Riley protested, “N-no, thanks. The baby needs the protein.”

Regina tsked, “My dear, I’m just trying to help! You’ve gained so much weight! I mean, really, is that any way to keep the eye of a king? I never let my figure go, not in all the years Constantine and I were together.”

Riley sat the sandwich on her plate as she stared at the older woman in shock, “Regina, I’m pregnant!”

“That’s really no excuse to let yourself go, is it?”

Riley’s hand went protectively to her belly, “First of all, I have preeclampsia and half of the weight I’ve gained is retained water! Second of all, my doctor was concerned that I wasn’t gaining enough weight in the first trimester because of how bad my morning sickness was! Third, Liam is a loving and devoted husband, and your insinuation is just gross! And fourth, seriously, weight shaming, especially a pregnant woman, is just…just….”

“What’s going on?” Liam asked as he entered the room.

“I was just having a snack and Regina started trying to body shame me about my weight!”

“What?” Liam looked at Regina then back to Riley in confusion.

“Oh, dear, no. I was just giving her some tips on healthy eating. I only want the best for the baby, after all!”

“No, that’s not-“

“It’s ok, dear,” Regina patted her arm on her way out of the room, “It’s the pregnancy hormones that make you overly sensitive!”

“Liam! She was being horrible! You believe me, right?”

Liam looked at his wife sympathetically, “Of course I believe that she hurt your feelings! But I’m sure she didn’t mean to! She can be…brusque from her years of ruling.”

“Yes, but her suggestions weren’t even right! She criticized my food choices and said I was letting myself go!”

“She doesn’t understand, she never experienced pregnancy herself. We’ll get her some literature about healthy eating during pregnancy if you want.”

She looked up at him and he was so sincere, she decided to let it go. Maybe he was right. Regina was trying to be involved, right? But shouldn’t a former queen have more tact? Riley couldn’t push away the feeling that she’d been cruel on purpose.

“Hey.” Liam sat down and pulled her into his arms, “How about I have the kitchen make you a chocolate milkshake? You love those! And it’s full of protein! Then maybe we can sneak off to our room for a midafternoon rendezvous? Hmmm?”

She giggled as his nose nuzzled into her neck, letting go of her ire. It would be okay.

But it wasn’t. It only got worse after the birth of the baby.

Riley returned from the hospital to find their apartment inside the palace had been redecorated, with hideous paintings that looked like they had been molding in the attic for years.

Regina was waiting for them when they entered the living room, “Welcome home!”

“What the hell happened in here?” Riley asked.

“Oh, I wanted to surprise you!”

“But…where is my stuff?” Riley had worked hard to decorate the apartment, to make it feel like home, a true retreat for their family, a place to get away from the palace and the demands of public life.

“Oh, it’s in storage, but I’m going to have it hauled away. It was so tacky, don’t you think? You’re a mother now, you need to think about the fact that you’re raising the heir! These portraits are our history! You won’t be able to teach her what she needs to know because you aren’t from here, so I thought this would be a good start!”

“Liam!”

Liam embraced her, “Here, let’s get you settled in. We can sort this out later.”

“The bedroom, Liam, I want to go to the bedroom.” She was shaking with anger, no way she could sit in that living room while Regina was still in it.

“She meant well.” Liam told her.

“No, she didn’t. Get rid of her and get rid of that shit on my walls! I want my decorations back, Liam, the ones you and I picked together!”

“Of course, love.”

“And you need to tell her to stop overstepping boundaries!”

“I think she just wants to be involved. She’s still grieving my father, she never had children of her own, Leo is gone, we’re all she has.”

“She has Madeleine and Adelaide!” Riley fumed, “Let her go stay in Krona!”

“Riley! We can’t send her away! We’re her family!”

Once again, Riley was forced to let it go.

But the final straw came when Riley woke from a nap to find Regina feeding the two month old crown princess of Cordonia from a bottle.

“I thought we were out of expressed milk.” Riley said.

Regina rolled her eyes, “Oh dear, I don’t think she’s gaining enough weight on your milk. You’re too sickly and weak, you’re not strong like a Cordonian woman. I sent the butler out for some formula.”

“What?! No! You know that we’re exclusively breastfeeding!” Riley felt tears prick her eyes.

“Well, that’s your mistake dear. It’s why she’s not sleeping through the night. She needs something more substantial in her stomach.”

Riley’s eyes tracked across the counter, landing on a box of baby rice cereal, “Did you put cereal in that bottle?”

“Just a tablespoonful. You can thank me when she sleeps through the night.”

“Get out!”

“What?”

“Put my baby down and Get. Out. NOW!” Riley roared.

Regina jumped, Ellie started to cry.

“See what you’ve done, you selfish little bitch?” Regina hissed, “All you care about is yourself! That’s why you came between Liam and his father at the end of his life! My husband was dying but did you care? No! All you cared about was casting him as the bad guy to clear your own name so you could manipulate Liam into marrying you!”

“What?”

“You heard me! You came in here with all your American ideas and modern values and seduced him with sex and inappropriate behavior! You’re not fit for the throne, and you’re not fit for my son! He’ll see that soon and send you packing back to America!”

Riley couldn’t stop the hot, angry tears streaming down her face as she stumbled to the door and yanked it open, “Marco!”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” The young guard looked tentatively back and forth between the women.

“I want her to put my daughter down then I want her out of my sight, and I never want her back in here! I don’t care if you have to lock her in the cells to do it!”

Marco took in the sight in front of him and resolve washed over his face as he moved toward the queen mother. He knew who he worked for, and it wasn’t Regina.

“No need to be so dramatic.” Regina handed the baby to the nanny who had come running at the sound of crying. “I’ll go. But Liam will be hearing about this!”

After Regina was escorted out, Riley took her baby from the nanny, kissing the top of her head as she gently rocked her, “It’s ok, it’s ok, baby, momma’s so sorry she yelled.”

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I didn’t know-“

“It’s not your fault, Callie.” Riley sniffed, “Just, go get Marco for me, okay?” 

Callie left the room and returned with Marco. The young guard asked, “Is there something else I can do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, there is. I need you to send a message to my husband and then I need you to send up several butlers and a couple of maids right away.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Marco replied as he backed out of the room to do her bidding.

As soon as he could get free, the king responded to his wife’s summons.

Liam walked into mass chaos.

Riley’s breasts ached; Ellie wouldn’t latch on. Riley’s breasts were so full she couldn’t get the pump to form a seal so there was no relief to be found there. Ellie was screaming because her tummy hurt, she was pulling her little legs up, grunting in an effort to poop. The royal doctor had just left, saying Ellie was constipated from the cereal and to try a little apple juice in a bottle, but diluted because her digestive system really wasn’t ready for that either. Riley was leaking milk from both sides and crying from pain, frustration and anger. Her face was red and streaked with tears, the front of her shirt was soaked as rivulets of milk ran from both breasts.

There were two maids scurrying around the apartment and three butlers carrying luggage and baby items from the bedroom and nursery out the door.

Even the nanny was crying.

“What the hell is going on?” Liam exploded.

Riley wiped her face on her sleeve and stood, “What’s happening is that Regina did it again, Liam, only a thousand times worse and I already know that you’re going to excuse her behavior no matter what I say! Even though I have witnesses!” She swung her arm in the nanny’s direction.

“Why are the butlers taking luggage and baby equipment out of here?” He demanded as his head turned to track their activities.

“Ellie and I are going to stay at Valtoria.” Riley said sorrowfully.

“For how long?” He yelled.

“Forever.” She replied quietly, her voice rising steadily as she spoke, “You dismiss all my concerns when it comes to Regina! You don’t listen, you don’t believe me that what she does is intentionally mean! I can’t take it anymore! I won’t put my child through it!”

“Wait.” Liam’s face paled, “You’re…you’re leaving me?”

“Yes. I love you, Liam, desperately. You are welcome at Valtoria anytime, but I can’t and won’t spend one more night under the same roof as Regina.”

Desperation laced his words, “Riley, no! You can’t leave me!”

“You can just spin it as me wanting some alone time with the baby. I’m sure the PR department will come up with something believable, so your public image isn’t tarnished.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “You think I’m worried about my public image?”

She wiped at her face again, “Aren’t you?”

“No!” He grabbed her by the shoulders, “I’m worried about losing my wife! I love you, Riley, with everything in me! I can’t live without you! I don’t want any of this without you! I’ll abdicate right now and fuck Cordonia all to hell!”

“Liam, you can’t abdicate, that’s crazy talk!”

He slid down to his knees, right in front of the staff, taking her hand in his, “Please don’t do this!”

“I don’t want to!” Fresh tears fell down her face, “But I don’t know what else to do!”

His features hardened as he rose to his feet, “I do.”

Liam raised his voice, “Everyone stop! Alec! Marco! Get in here!”

All activity ceased as the king barked orders, “Put everything back where you found it! The queen is not leaving, my daughter is not leaving!”

He watched as the staff scurried around, carrying luggage and baby items back into the bedroom and nursery, then he turned to the two guards he had summoned, “Go find Regina, and escort her from the premises.”

“Your Majesty?”

“You heard me. Take her to Krona, or wherever she wants to go, but she can’t stay here. We’ll send her things later, wherever she ends up. Go! Now!”

The guards jumped and hurried out the door to carry out their orders.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what she did?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He took her in his arms again, “You wouldn’t be this upset for nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t listen before, didn’t take it seriously. I need you to know that no one is more important to me than you and our family. Okay?”

She smiled through her tears as she nodded, “Okay.”

“I love you, Riley Rys, you’re my life, my heart! Can you ever forgive me?”

“I forgive you, Liam! You were just trying to be a good son.”

“I’d rather be a good husband, and a good father. I know where my priorities are.”

She collapsed into his arms and cried tears of relief.

Riley never saw Regina again and she lived happily ever after.

[the-al-chemist]

Fic Writer’s 20 Questions!

Thank you so much @whatwouldvalerydo for tagging me in this game - the original post was getting very long so I thought I would post separately.

How many works do you have on A03?

18!

What’s your total A03 word count?

789,856

What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter, including spin offs

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The first five Hexley Saga stories, though not in order. In descending order it goes: Mystery, Portrait, Figures, Forest, Staircase.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, because I appreciate every comment I receive. I am slow to respond, because I don’t always see them when it’s convenient to reply, and then I forget what I have or haven’t replied to. I’m very disorganised.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I’m not sure if any have truly angsty endings, I tend to like my angst mixed with happiness and humour for something bittersweet. In that vein, maybe Into the Light of the Dark Black Night. However, The Wilderness Years ends on an open and not overly optimistic note.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, not many have a wholly happy ending… Probably the Hexley Saga, though there is a touch of sadness even to that.

Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t done, no. I’ve had readers (understandably) drop out after one specific character death, but no actual hate for it. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have done, once or twice. I’m not good at it. As for what type… Bad smut? Awkward smut? Idk, I’m just too British for this.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

… I’m not even 100% sure what this is so I’m going to say no.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A touchy subject. No, I haven’t, but I have had and occasionally continue to have issues with aspects of my stories being taken and put into others’ works in ways that have made it obvious that it isn’t a coincidence, but not in ways that I have felt justified in reporting plagiarism on any publishing sites. I have, however, learnt how the Tumblr block button can come in handy.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. When in France this spring I considered translating the Hexley Saga into French to help me get my language skills back up but I quickly realised how much work this would be and decided against it.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes - When Stars Ignite was (and still is) a collaboration between me and @lifeofkaze. It was (and still is) an amazing experience and massive learning curve.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Forever Gomez and Morticia Addams.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Whichever one I’m currently writing - I get to the point in every long form story that I think I’ll never finish it. So far, I’ve proved myself wrong.

What are your writing strengths?

Generally: I’m dedicated and very deliberate in my approach. For every single choice I make in my writing, I have a rationality behind it. There is a lot of method in my madness. Also, when I get the wind in my sails, I’m speedy.

Technically: characterisation, humour, emotionality, dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Generally: good old impostor syndrome and being an incredibly disorganised person.

Technically: action scenes, angst, smut.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Ahh, this is awkward. I actually… am not a massive fan of this. Before you call me a hypocrite (which is a fair criticism here), I think foreign language dialogue is great when it works, but when it’s not done right, it’s completely alienating for a reader and can ruin the story. And it’s hard to get right. So, although I do use it, I don’t enjoy using it, because involves so much work and causes so much anxiety.

My rule when I do use it is that it has to add an extra layer of meaning and enjoyment for people who do understand it or want to look up the translation without taking away from the meaning and enjoyment of people who don’t. I have broken this rule once, because sometimes it’s fun to break the rules, and because I wanted to alienate my readers. I’m actually really proud of the effect it created, so here is a link to this rule-breaking.

First fandom you wrote for?

Jill Murphy’s The Worst Witch, circa 2001.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

That’s a mean question. The answer is probably On This Wild Night, but that one isn’t published yet, so I’m going to choose a few. Figures in the Shadows, because it was the first one where I first felt like my style came naturally to me, Eggshells because it was the first one created in a moment of inspiration, When Stars Ignite because of the friendship that was strengthened in the writing process, Learning to Fly because Charlie Weasley, and Return to the Riddles, because finishing the Hexley Saga was such an achievement and the culmination of two years of hard work that I really hope paid off.

Tagging: @katherinewilliams221b @liiilyevans @turanga4

[virgo-dream]

cw: virgo feels like a fucking idiot

I’m discovering a lot about myself lately. I’ve also been spending a lot of time inside my own head rather than actively participating in life, but maybe this is just me being overly critical of myself.

I feel… tired. Constantly. Not physically tired, seeing that I am taking a huge amount of vitamins and have started on an anti-androgen to help with my PCOS symptoms that have been running rampant for the past two-ish years (I won’t get into the psychological implications of that in this post). I have energy, per se, and an able to do things when sufficiently motivated.

I’m just never sufficiently motivated.

I’ve struck a balance with my mental health that is completely illusory. I’m starting to notice these cracks and an ever growing frustration taking over my heart like weeds on an unkept field. My body aches, my willpower slips through my fingers. I am, once again, defeated by my own sadness.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting with writing all of this down. Life has been a lot lately, and I have been shrinking, constantly. Hiding. It hurts. It physically hurts me. Writing it here gives me an outlet, and I think there are friends here that genuinely care. I don’t mean to make anyone worry with writing this, but I need to feel heard instead of trapped in the echo chamber of my own head.

Anyway, that wasn’t very slay the house down boots of me.

[ambrossart]

Hi lovely. I read that you’re still unsatisfied with the intimate scenes in the second part of the epilogue, but I want you to know that it’s some of the best I’ve ever read. The awkwardness is so realistic, and the emotion really shines through. (WHEN HE SAYS HE MISSED HER BEFORE KISSING HER. OH MY GOD.) And the newness of the experience for both of the characters is so endearing, and it’s perfectly balanced with the sudden spikes of boldness from both of them, too. (Speaking of, when Eddie made her say “Please.” I actually dropped my fucking phone.)

Not to ramble, but the conversations throughout the intimate moments were also incredible and really grounded the whole scene.

I know I sound like a broken record, but this series has seriously given me so much comfort (even though it made my heart beat so fast that I had to pace around my room, which I also loved). Thank you so so so much for this story. It’s made a little home in my head that serves as a respite throughout my days.

I can’t wait to read The Morning After and any other works you put out. And belated congrats on your recent move!! 💓💓💓

You know... I dunno, maybe I'm just being overly critical of myself. Those scenes are just so emotionally charged. This is such an important moment for both of them. Even without the physical part, just having her in his house is a huge deal. That’s why I love how, while he’s initially kissing her on his bed, she’s trying to look around his room and take everything in (I swear, just being in his room is probably enough to get her going 😂). It’s a very special moment and I’m not sure if I captured it well enough, but I did the best I could.

Of course, that’s not to say I’m unsatisfied with all of it. There are parts that I really like, like when she feels insecure about Eddie’s past sexual experiences and he pokes fun at himself to make her feel better. He’s just so precious. 🥺

And speaking of that “I really missed you” line, that sequence is one of my favorite parts of the entire epilogue. It was such a struggle for them to overcome their emotional hurdles. These idiots put themselves through hell and they finally made it through to the other side, and now they get to just relax and enjoy being together.

Some of the earlier high school fics are going to highlight just how bad it was before. There wasn’t a bunch of cute, flirty banter or bickering. No obvious sexual tension. It was just… a wall of ice, broken up by rare glimpses of how things used to be (not enough to give him hope, but just enough to torture him). And there are periods early on where Eddie tries to get through to her, and it just blows up in his face, and he eventually stops trying. Now he has to accept the loss of not just a potential love interest but also a really good friend.

So, yes, this poor boy really means it when he says he missed her. 😭

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Your comments always make my day ❤️

[tonberry-yoda]

Hi could I get a romantic matchup for Haikyuu

Pronouns are she/her and I have a preference for men. Could I also ask for a mini fic of any kind like whatever you think of. I’m not sure if it’s part of this specific event but it was on your matchup rules. If not that’s totally fine!

Also please let me know if I forgot to include something!

Ideal First date: My dream date is probably at an amusement park (Disneyland maybe) because it was the highlight of my childhood and allows me to not act like I have a stick up my ass all the time and have fun LMAO. I’d prefer it over just a dinner date or a movie because it’s more fun. I also just think amusement parks are romantic and in a sucker for cute fluffy cliche stuff. In general though I would enjoy any date that shows that he put thought and effort into it and actually values the time I’m spending with him. (Like instead of just saying “let’s hang out. What do you want to do”, be like “hey when are you available this week? Saturday? Ok be ready at 7 on Saturday”. I like that because it shows initiative and interest). Also if we are meeting each other somewhere don’t be late I will leave. So overall any date that’s fun, shows effort, interest, and shows that he actually took the time to think about my personality and what I’d like.

Personality: INTJ 3w4. I’m introverted and calm most of the time. I can be socially awkward but if I prepare myself or plan beforehand I can be very charming. I'm really analytical and am good at finding loopholes and working around problems under pressure. But I can also overthink a lot of things and plan out too much of my interactions with people. I'm not good with emotional support and can come across a little cold because of that but I usually try my best to understand the other person and their needs. I hate small talk and I like people who are blunt and logical but also have emotional intelligence. However, I cannot deal with overly emotional people who are extremely dramatic and make a big deal of their feelings when a situation can be logically resolved much more quickly and peacefully. I'm not that expressive (outwardly at least because I'm actually really emotional I just hide it well) and have a hard time relaxing or enjoying things because I've been conditioned to always consider how it will look on mine and my family's reputation. I'm a perfectionist and hold myself to very high standards and I can sometimes be very critical of others because of my high expectations. I constantly chase perfection for myself and try to be the most idealized version of myself but these standards cause me to be extremely hard on myself when it comes to falling short of my expectations or making mistakes. I’m very understanding, fair, and extremely loyal. I’d literally take a bullet for my friends but I also expect the same kind of loyalty in return. I’m very devoted to my principles and can often have a hard time forgiving people if they do something I find to be fundamentally wrong according to my principles. I have trust issues with romance but when I fall in love I fall really hard and I’m very romantic (im a songwriter so I’ll literally write lyrics about them and draw them and stuff). A lot of people don’t realize how deeply I feel things because I don’t show it on the surface. I’ve also been told I seem intimidating until someone gets to know me. Some of my dealbreakers are: misogyny (when people especially men undermine my intelligence and experience and end up making a mistake I warned them about only to listen when another man repeats the same thing l've been saying since the beginning), big egos with nothing to back it up, people who can't keep up with me (I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with someone whose hand I have to hold all the time. They need to be on the same level/wavelength as me and not drag me down), being a coward and not standing up for your own beliefs/motives, people that are way too nice (whoever I end up with has to have a mean streak because it shows they are able to take action when needed. How are they going to support and protect me if they can’t even stand up for themselves when needed.), being self absorbed and not considering the consequences of your actions, people who have a moral superiority complex that think they're better for not wanting to break rules to get what they want, and people who can't take responsibility for their actions. (I would respect someone whose honest about being a bad person a lot more than I respect someone who tries to come across as kind and caring all the time no matter what. It’s like that Jack sparrow quote, “I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly, it's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly stupid”. I fully agree with him. I also have a short temper when people act like the things I mentioned, or if I’m in a situation where people are being inefficient or wasting my time but if people communicate effectively I’ll be very patient and help them come up with a way to deal with their situation.

Hobbies/ Likes: I love music. I make my own music and music is probably the thing I love the most. It's really what I use to process the world so music is definitely the way to my heart. My all time favorite band is Buck-Tick and I love dark wave/goth music like Depeche Mode. However I literally listen to everything so it’s hard to say a single genre I like more than others. I can't play any instruments but I also make my own music. (Shameless self promo but here’s my new song) I'm a good artist but I don't like doing it on a deadline. I've gotten back into drawing recently tho. I've also been doing martial arts since I was 7 + fencing. I'm good at chess and poker and made money from playing/betting on games when I was younger. I also love reading.

I love fashion and ive been modeling since I was 14. I also did some pageants as a kid. As for my style, I can’t pick a specific vibe or aesthetic because I think I’m simultaneously goth, preppy, athletic, and nerdy. It just depends on how I feel. The only common trait is whatever I wear will always look great😌. I tend to wear darker colors though but I also really like y2k and I have a bunch of lavender juicy tracksuits and stuff (I love purple). I also switch between wanting to look more masculine and androgynous or more glam and feminine. Sometimes I think of a song I want to look like and pick an outfit based on the song. My style is very bold and sometimes flamboyant and I love being admired and complimented. I may not be very social but I instead attract attention with how I present myself. I’m Indian but a lot of people have said I look like Atsushi Sakurai when he was younger.

I don’t want to be paired with nishinoya, tanaka, or hinata I don’t think I’d get along with them that well.

notes 💌: GURL I LOVE YOUR CONFIDENCE OMG! I love seeing confident people like you and btw that song SLAPS! Cant wait to see what else you make in the future!! thanks so much for participating in my event and i hope you have an amazing valentine's day this year!! <3

THE CHARACTER CUPID CHOOSES FOR YOU THIS VALENTINE’S DAY IS…

KUROO!!

he's kinda the opposite when it comes to you being introverted

he is definitely not a shy guy

he's super social, but he will NEVER force you into a social situation if you dont want any part of it

he likes that you have a charming side. and he especially likes that you have that charming side around him <3

HE LOVES THAT YOU ARE SO PREPARED FOR SITUATIONS

like seeing you be this very prepares and thoughtful person has him head over heels for you

he finds that part about you very attractive

he will definitely encourage you not to overthink though

overthinking can be AWFUL and leave nothing but bad thoughts sometimes, so he sure can help when you think you've bumped into a really bad area in your overthinking journey

he is just always here for you

luckily, you dont really need to worry about his emotional health, he knows how to handle when things go downhill, but know that if he really needs your help, he will ask

he will support you if you do the same as a relationship should be

he very much has his shit together

he is very logical and emotionally intelligent so you have a good man on your hands

he is super calm about his feelings and again, knows how to deal with bad situations on his own

he knows that you have a perfectionist side about you and sometimes you two can butt heads because of it

mostly because he doesnt want you thinking that you need to be perfect

imperfections are what he loves and to see you hating on them makes him upset

so just know that you're getting a man who will show you A LOT of his love

he will be 100% loyal to you and to know that he has that in return makes him LITERALLY SO IN LOVE OMG

literally both of you are so in love fr

and if you wrote a song about him he would probably lose it tbh

like he cant believe that you love him that much, but he is so over the moon about it

he thinks it is super romantic that you are able to show your feelings that way to him and he's glad you have that outlet

so he 100% supports your music

he actually didnt think you were intimidating and that's why yall fit LMFAO

you two just liked each other right off the bat

you two definitely make fun of oikawa and his huge ass ego LMFAO

you two get through arguments and stuff very well

and very logically

it's wonderful and SUPER HEALTHY

like people around you are JEALOUS omg

sing to him or just play music around him

that's his comfort time for sure

he also loves how confident you are, it really makes him love and support you even more and means there's nothing that he has to do unless you really need it and he will latch onto you the moment you need help

he loves the way you dress and present yourself and wants you to help him dress just as cool lol

literally thinks your a stunning and wonderfully smart partner and wouldnt ask for anyone else <3

💌 HOW WOULD HE ASK YOU TO BE HIS VALENTINE??

simply, he would just ask you upfront. you would be doing some work and get an unexpected little kiss on the head from kuroo when he asks: "wanna be my valentine?"

💌 VALENTINE’S DAY DATE

"Are you open Valentine's day?" Kuroo asked you, looking at his own calendar, his computer open in front of him. You checked your schedule, the 14th completely free. "Yeah, why?" Kuroo smiled at you and walked over, placing a kiss onto your cheek. "Because you and I are going to Disneyland on the 14th." "Really?!" You exclaimed, feeling like a kid again. "Of course we are! I know how much you love it and you haven't been in a really long time, so why not? Plus, I've never been myself, so I think it would be a good time." "You've never been?" "Nope, not once." Kuroo walked back to his computer and ordered the tickets, getting excited. "Well, you're gonna love it. Man, it's been so long." You laid back on your bed and smiled at the ceiling. "Kuroo, you're the best." "Aw, you're too sweet, y/n." He ordered the tickets and walked over to you, pulling you into his arms. "I'm excited. Just the two of us and a really stupidly fun day." --- When you two ended up in Disneyland again, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed. It's like all the stresses of life disappeared, and here you were in the most magical place on earth. You showed Kuroo all of your favorite rides and ordered all of your favorite foods. Kuroo even ended up getting you something special from the gift shop. You showed him the best time that he's had in a long time and he did just the same for you. Hours passed and you couldn't stop all of the fun. Lots of small jokes from Kuroo and loving giggles from you. At dinner, the two of you were seated at one of the best places at the park to eat and a smile was stuck on your lips. "Thanks for taking me here, Kuroo." "No need to thank me. Thank you for having fun." A special Valentine's dessert came to the table and the two of you smiled. "Happy Valentine's Day." You said in unison. <3

~~~~~

mystery date rules | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

[barrelcat]

Holiday Pickups 2022

Happy New Year!

A little late, but thought I’d share some pickups from right before Christmas to now. 

I’m very lucky to be a mod of a great writing community on discord and this is the second year that we’ve engaged in Secret Santa across the server. @grimbims, who was my Secret Santa, sent me Hades on the Switch! I was also delighted to discover that the physical copy of the game comes with a code for the soundtrack, as well as a small artbook featuring all of the game’s characters. It’s also my first roguelike (again, recalling that whole “broadening your gaming horizon” thing), and while Hades is difficult for my novice skills, it’s a terrible amount of fun. I’m not too bad at it, either. I favor the spear coupled with blessings from Artemis and have made it just past Asterius on Elysium, but that battle of attrition always leaves me struggling to survive afterward. 

Xenoblade Chronicles Definitive Edition is the other game I’m shuffling between right now. I had asked for XC3, but there was a mixup during my gifter’s order and I ended up with this one instead, which may secretly have been what I actually wanted. I know that XC3 is supposed to be amazing, but I like to get the whole story, even if the internet tells me that I don’t need to play 1 and 2 before diving in. I’m about twenty hours deep so far and can confidently say that I’m going to play it to the end. The world and premise are interesting, the characters and story are compelling, even if the dialogue is a bit painful at times (my writer's brain can be overly critical even at the best of times), and the gameplay loop is satisfying. It feels very MMO to me. As an avid FFXIV player, that’s only a good thing. 

I was excited for Harvestella the moment it debuted on the Nintendo Direct back in June of ‘22 (oh my gosh, is that really “back in” already???). Even though I’ve only dabbled in a handful of farming/life simulators, I’ve obsessed over the ones that I have played (minus Stardew Valley - I know, I’m awful, but it just never grabbed me like it did others. Conan Exiles, though? I lost days to that game.) The anime aesthetic coupled with farming and crafting in Harvestella spoke to me like a game hasn’t in a long, long time, and I knew I needed it as soon as it launched. This was later confirmed when I blasted through the Switch demo shortly after. As excited as I was, though, I’ve decided to set this one aside until I finish the first Xenoblade. Then I’ll discover what was really going on with those Seaslights. 

I played Fire Emblem: Three Houses for the first time just a couple months ago. The two weeks I poured into it were gone all too quickly, and while I told myself and friends that I wanted to do a replay for the other endings and storylines, I just couldn’t bring myself to betray Edelgard. After 70+ hours together, her character meant too much to me. Color me excited when I realized that Fire Emblem: Three Hopes was another story featuring those characters, but in the style of the Dynasty Warriors games. (Note: to be honest, I’m not sure what the deal is with the story, but I’m excited to find out!) So once I get to this one, I’m sure it’s going to be another non-stop ride. 

Not gifts per se, but I did pick up a Byleth amiibo with some Christmas Cash, as well as a copy of Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright for the 3DS from the local used game shop. I wanted to get a copy of an FE Fates game so I could download the third not-so-secret storyline to that series, Fire Emblem Fates: Revelations. If you didn’t know, the online shop for the 3DS (and the Wii U, I believe) are being shut down in March of 2023. Apart from purchases made before that date, nothing will be available on those marketplaces to buy or download. Part of a string of odd choices made by Nintendo, recently. 

I’ve been eyeing these books since the newest printing was announced sometime last year. Both volumes of the Encyclopaedia Eorzea are gazetteers of the world of FFXIV, and feature stunning art taken from the game. They’re filled to the brim with world lore, and remind me more of a D&D campaign guide than anything else. I have half a mind to use them to run a game set in Eorzea using these books as source material. Maybe then I can get my group to join me in the MMO. 

This mug is from Etsy and brings me immeasurable joy. It features a memed version of Gaius van Baelsar’s famous line from the end of FFXIV: A Realm Reborn and makes me cackle every time I read it. I actually received two of these in duplicate, a 16oz and a 12 oz. The larger has worked its way into my mug rotation (because we all have a thousand mugs at this point, right?), and the smaller has earned its place among my small-yet-growing FFXIV collection next to my handcrafted moogle (a birthday present from my sister). From his perch, Gaius will always be there to remind me to drink more coffee. 

Probably the coolest gift I received this year was an ocarina from the Nintendo 64 classic, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of time. I’m not sure if the picture does it justice, but the craftsmanship is stunning. The blue gloss is deep and shines wonderfully under light. It fits perfectly on the shelf with my other Zelda mementos. The box came with sheet music for several melodies from the game, so I’m definitely going to try and learn a couple tunes. Physical items from games like this are the best. I’ll admit, I have a soft spot for action figures, but having something tangible from a game world you’ve invested hours into is so, so cool. 

The final, and arguably largest, pickup for this update is a Nintendo Wii that I was able to find locally on CraigsList for a fantastic price! I didn’t have a Wii when I was younger (well, I did briefly… but that story might be for another time) and I’ve had one on my list for a while. Everything works, minus some battery acid damage on one of the Wii remotes, but I’m going to invest some time into repairing that soon. 

The seller lived about an hour away, so we met halfway at another used game shop that I hadn’t been to before. After the transaction, I popped inside to grab a couple games as well, including Nights: Journey of Dreams and SSX Blur. I read the Nights comics when I was kid, which were Sega and Archie Comics attempting to see if the series could survive the market. They didn’t, unfortunately, but they were a major influencer in my perhaps misguided desire to become a writer, so I’ve always wanted to try the games. As for SSX, Blur is the only one I haven’t played in the series. SSX Tricky on the GameCube was a gaming staple when I was a kid, so I couldn’t pass this one up when I found it. 

All in all, exciting additions to the collection with a lot of games to enjoy. 

[luveline]

I just admire your writing so much. The emotions that come with reading your work makes it feel like I’m in your story—which I figure is the point of fanfics, but I enjoy it so much.

You really inspire me to write, but how do you even motivate yourself to keep writing? Especially because when I do it, I’m so nit picky about what i typed and think it’s not good enough. I know a lot of people say that’s normal. Everyone is overly critical of themselves, I suppose, but I feel I won’t get anywhere like that.

Thank you gorgeous, I'm really happy you do!!

I think I'm quite motivated by how much I enjoy the process, like I really love actually just sitting down and watching something I've managed to make unfold, or just fold — I think if you're looking at what you've written and worrying it isn't very good right away, it helps me to visualise it as like origami. For lots of the complicated pieces, you make lots of folds that you can't really tell were made originally but you can't make the jumping frog without them, in the same way that you may not always love what you've written as you start, but it's all part of a bigger process, and eventually you get an end product that looks good

Being nit picky isn't necessarily a bad thing because reading our own stuff critically allows us to assess what we need to do to make something better, but maybe I would suggest nit picking at the end, that way you're still taking measures to improve, but you're also giving yourself space to just write and get it out there first! I know that's not easy to suddenly just stop critiquing yourself, but it ties in with how I stay motivated: I'm not not critiquing myself, I'm critiquing myself constantly, but I also try not to give myself a hard time about mistakes, or to see a mistake in a piece of writing and think that the whole piece is now bad because of it

I know this isn't true for everyone and everything but I think that practise is my best friend, I spent more than a year writing in every minute of my spare time and personally felt like I saw so much improvement, I'm still learning of course!

and so my point is that the best way I've found to stay motivated is to try as hard as you can to accept that your writing may not be perfect but that doesn't mean it won't be good or interesting or fun, and that by making something not perfect you're getting closer and closer to making perfect because you're learning as you go

Also I'm motivated of course by my love of telling stories, my love of the characters I'm borrowing, and my love for the people who support and enjoy my writing, so I really recommend writing exactly what you wanna write every time and just having as much fun as you possibly can

I really really hope this wS helpful, and that none of it comes across as anything but friendly advise, I can't know for certain how to motivate you and i don't mean to imply anything about how you operate as a writer, I'm sure genuinely that what you're making is heaps better than the voice in ur head tries to tell you ♥ I hope you can go on to write so much stuff!

[flaringfoxsoul03]

Hello hello!! I was wondering if I could request a romantic matchup for Obey Me, if you're ok with that of course.

I'm a trans man (he/him), demisexual and bisexual, I'm an INFP-T and a Cancer sun + Virgo moon. I see most people describe me as kind and gentle, and I do my best to be a good support, sort of the "mom friend". Though I also tend to be overly critical of myself and others, though I try to keep my thoughts to myself. I'm also a bit of a perfectionist, I get burnt out of things if I'm not immediately good at them, and I like having a daily schedule I keep to.

I love drawing, sewing, crocheting, baking and sometimes reading. I like repetitive tasks with a high reward, so I really enjoy hand stitching and shiny hunting in pokemon. I also enjoy journaling out my thoughts, and in past relationships I've often written out my own short poetry and sent them to my partner when I've been thinking about them.

I get nervous around loud people and big crowds. I like staying home most of the time, as that's where I'm most comfortable. Though I do like quieter places like cafe's, libraries and walking in the woods. I struggle with anxiety and ptsd, so in a relationship I need to feel safe and seen/heard, I wouldn't do well with someone untrustworthy or emotionally cold.

I think my biggest love language is words of affirmation, though I also highly value quality time and physical touch. I'm not very big on gift giving, as I don't really see the need for it since my partner would be all I need, really. I'm not the best conversationalist, but I do my best to make sure my partner knows I'm there for them, and I want to be reassured that they're there for me as well.

Appearance wise, I'm about 5'3" in height. I have a tannish skin tone close to Mammon's, I have short curly hair which is colored dark brown, and I have medium brown eyes. I often dress in dark academia fashion.

Some things I like: animals, high fantasy (like d&d), collecting gemstones and stationary, the colors green and yellow, pokemon but especially the pokemon that often get overlooked like maractus, dark chocolate, vanilla cake, tea of any kind, iced mochas

I don't think there's many things I outright hate, but I don't like playing scary games or watching horror movies, and I'm allergic to long haired cats but still love them anyways.

I apologize for getting to this so late! Just so much has been going on for me, nonetheless I wish to grant you a matchup of an Obey Me creature! Is demon, angel, or man? Let’s go check it out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I match you with…

Solomon!

——————————-

Hear me out, humans aren’t all that bad. Just the majority of us suck. Imagine living with humans like that for thousands upon thousands of years. Solomon is problematic at best and disastrously devilish at worst, not someone you’d initially want to date after hearing and first meeting said sorcerer. But I promise, it’s a beautiful slow burn romance~. All the trials and tribulations you’ll go through together and become more united than the jumbling mess he first left you in

He may not immediately show it off, but he’s definitely is heartfelt and emotionally connected to himself, but not very well with others before you arrived in the Devildom. I’m pretty sure, hun, first talking to you required nabbing your phone and talking to you to get on Lucifer’s nerves (spoiler: it worked very well). I bet, since your mom friend instincts kicked in, you knew he was instantly bad news. It took the second year of the exchange through texting after the first year ended to finally end up with this guy. He’s far too complicated for his own good to be matched up with him immediately, but eventually (with a little help from Asmo mostly because he was done watching you two squabble with all that potential love in the air without being recognized also everyone else was begging him to finally get his Masters together) you come together and form a new relationship that you navigate not so seamlessly, but it’s with him

You both are into a lot of the same things, especially after you introduced him to some of your favorites like Dungeons and Dragons (spoiler: explain it’s a board game to Lord Diavolo next time you try to bring it up after the last disaster and how Lucifer still isn’t over it) and general high fantasy related things, it allows Solomon to incorporate its odd methodical challenges into his experiments. He loves gifting you gemstones, but he likes to turn them into little hide and seek games with the gemstones every time he does get you one, makes it much more interesting and fun for the two of you

It’s canon: never let this man make you anything, and I mean ANYTHING. Your shady sorcery man can make purple soup without the food coloring purple. Just tell him you favorite restaurant to get said food, trust me, you will not get far in teaching this man to even use a coffee maker. Rumors have it that he once made the coffee maker at school to float up and away from him, the Little Ds had to go retrieve it because it was stuck on a chandelier

The immortal being we call Solomon is not all that wise. Emotionally speaking, he’s still trying to reconnect to something he’s detached himself for anyone else other than a select few for thousands of years. So of course, he’s slow to know your emotional needs right away, but he’s not stupid to not see your obvious tells. He just didn’t know what they mean at first, so his first reaction is to poke and prod. He’s just that curious, not actively trying to make it worse, but that is unfortunately where it’ll head to first. Don’t worry though, he’ll develop and method that works for the best for many scenarios after he causes this whole fiasco. I mean, every location scenario when you’re coming down hard in the feels? He’s got at least three default plans to try so you’re not feeling so terrible anymore

Solomon tries very hard to keep your love and good side, though he’s not very good at it at first. But he believes you’re his piece he has been missing for thousands of years. His teasing yet mischievous loving nature has you falling head over heels for the shady wizard. He feels grateful for withstanding trials and tribulations for your relationship to flourish into the beautiful magic he couldn’t recreate even if he tried

——————————

And follow ups are:

Simeon

And

Satan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surprise update! I’m so bad with consistency! With bunches of love, that’s all folks!

~Fox

[thaoeatworld]

On Leaving & Loneliness

While there are many reasons for people to daydream, I am (and continue to be) someone who uses it as an escape from my present reality. For me, it was a lot easier to fantasise about unlikely scenarios based on a series of loosely-tied-together-happenstance than it was to be bound to my present conditions. A true “jumper” of sorts. 

For some people, this was a very beautiful trait I posses. To them, I was a person capable of foreseeing impossible connections. I overlapped completely separate entities into new trajectories. To them, I was a creative. I was innovative. 

To others, this was an obvious weakness. I would become reliant on these unlikely dreams, so much so that it impacted me emotionally and physically. I would be stressed over something that was 98% unlikely to happen and when they didn’t happen I would agonise about them relentlessly. Naturally, this was a very unhelpful if not toxic way to live my life. Some people would say that I fetishise (my) suffering, others would say I enjoy “suffering twice”. And to some extent, maybe I do...I’m an academic after all.

This post is a tribute to the numerous ongoing transformations I’m experiencing at the moment. I will reflect on the following (1) deciding not to return to the United States after graduation (2) leaving Italy when I absolutely didn’t want to and (3) pursuing an academic career despite not wanting to at all. 

These are just a small part of my textual reflections that I choose to share into the digital void. It’s weird to think that I first joined tumblr at age 12/13 -- when Tumblr was just in beta and tumblarity was all the rage -- sharing my thoughts into said void were common. Nowadays, I’m feeling more hesitant and I’m not sure why. Is it the illusion of privacy? Is it the fear of being performative? Is the fear of judgment and unprofessionalism? I’m not sure. I’m not sure where this new-found concern manifested. I’ve always been an “open book” type of person. To me, my emotional transparency is a key part of what I do as an anthropologist.

By writing out my feelings, my process, and my analysis, I continue to build my over-growing toolkit for ethnography. It’s never complete, it’ll never be perfect, but it is me and my method. I do not glamourise myself as the research tool, if anything, I’m probably overly critical on all fronts. Some have accused me of being “too emotional” and you know, they’re right. I am very emotional. At times it inhibits me from truly appreciating or just experiencing what is going on around me. I become disoriented and overwhelmed. My own personal limbo, truly.

Grief is not linear. If anything, it’s like a connection of overlapping strands pulling you in different directions at different times and intensities. A meshwork composed of destructive memories, heavy sentiments, and occasional moments of clarity at best. For me, grief is a place. And that place was the United States. After almost 5 years abroad, spread across Japan, the U.K., and Italy, I was very much not looking forward to returning after I concluded my studies.

There’s a trope I always share with people about myself when they find out I grew up in the United States. I always tell them that I don’t really like my country, but I love my home-state with a passion. I love being from Maryland, but specifically the D.C. metropolitan area. I loved waking up to “Good morning Washington” -- I loved hopping on a short train to the centre and eating nice brunches with friends in undergrad. I loved going to random punk shows in basements, restaurant backrooms, and old churches. I love Old Bay seasoning on my boxed macaroni and cheese and mumbo sauce with my box of Chinese takeout fried chicken and fried rice. I love my friends, more than they will ever know. And yet...all of these things weren’t enough individually, or in combination, to convince me to return after graduation.

In my eyes if I were to return to my hometown, or anywhere NEAR it, I would be a failure. In my eyes, I had a lot of unfinished explorations around the world and going back to the U.S. after having a taste of that would be devastating. In my travels and studies, I met a lot of people who felt similar. To some extent, I think we were all running from something and hid it behind the joy and aesthetic of travel. However, I think for me, that’s changed a bit. Nowadays, I feel like the reason why I don’t want to go back permanently is because I learned to carry “home” with me and share it with others in different places. My “home” is in my connections, my friends who are around the world in various places-- my personal constellations of care. 

The grief about choosing to not return comes from the moments I have missed or will miss. I’ll miss my cousins’ kids growing up. I’ll miss the steps of my mother aging and healing from her traumatic past. I’ll miss moments of supporting my sister when she’s down and needing me. I’ll miss my friends getting married, giving birth, adopting pets, and buying houses. I grieve the possibilities that I know exist for me, but I’ve actively prevented myself from experiencing. I wish I could accept those possibilities and be happy with them, but yet, I left because I wanted something “more” but I’m unsure how that looks to begin with.

For a while, “more” was Italy. Living happily on my own, outside of studies, in Torino. While my Italian was nowhere near perfect, it was getting better after leaving an arguably toxic relationship and meeting new people. I was living in a new house with lots of sunlight and plants, I was making friends outside a university setting, and I was roller skating lots. I woke up each day mildly rattled with excitement and existential dread. Okay, university is over, what next? 

I considered the longevity of my career anxiety. My elementary school teacher Mrs. Klass did mention to me that I was always a nervous child when it came to fulfilling my dad’s wish of me being a doctor. I don’t think parents understand how much their comments and parenting impacts their children...or at least, I don’t think my parents did. I was, and continue to be, a hyper-sensitive person. I think about one of my long-standing film favourites: The Graduate (1967). Benjamin’s insistent disinterest and confusion mirrored my own. I too, was a graduate.  And I too, was looking to find “purpose” post-graduation. Cue Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence” to play in the background of my mind.

Similarly, I found myself looking for love in all the wrong places. Specifically from people who were not capable of giving me anything I wanted or needed. However, like Benjamin, I lent myself to the fantasy and dove in -- not paying attention to the consequences. And in my own ways, I paid for (and continue to pay for) these decisions. Even with these complexities, I didn’t want to leave. I love(d) Torino. I love(d) Italy.

For me, from February to the end of August this year, Torino was the centre of the universe. While my experiences were hectic and intense, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life thus far. The relationships I forged during this period were intensely wonderful. The relationships I ended were decisively healing -- something I can only say in hindsight. I will not downplay the pain I felt when they were crumbling, but am I relieved to not have to deal with them further.

My grief about Torino stems from my return to it for graduation in October after moving away when I didn’t want to. My desire was to find a beautiful role somewhere in Italy in research about plants and or food. I wanted to work in nutrition, biodiversity, cultural heritage. I wanted to conduct impactful research. I wanted to earn a reasonable wage. All of these desires were unfounded during my job search period.

When I set foot in Italy for graduation after moving away for work, I felt torn between multiple realities. Like Oxford, it wasn’t just the place, it was the people which coloured my experience. Most of my positive experiences in Torino were constructed by a small group of people, all of which didn’t exist in my life anymore. One by one, those people left my life, and I wasn’t the same anymore. That was a painful thing to realise. I’m not trying to diminish the happy connections I still have in Torino, but when you spend all your time with a select few, and they’re not there anymore, you feel that. Strongly. You feel their absence, their ghosts linger, and you try (very diligently) to stop being haunted.  All you can hope is that that someday these ghosts disappear, for good.

I never believed I would leave Italy, but most especially not to move to the Netherlands. As some might know, I had a mixture of motives for moving. I did it for a bundle of intersecting reasons, some of which unraveled and disintegrated altogether upon arrival. That was devastating. I was very much destroyed. As they say, once you hit rock bottom, it’s only up from here on.

I would say that September 2022 to mid November 2022 has been one of the darkest periods of my entire life thus far. I was very open about this, to everyone. And I thank everyone in my life for their continued patience and grace with me, I will not forget it.

Happy to report that despite these outside bursts of grief and sadness, none of this stemmed from my new work position. I definitely wouldn’t say I’m the type of person who dreams of labour, but I will openly say that I am very much happy and enjoying my academic role as a lecturer. A few months ago, I was very much on the the “I’m a hardcore research person, teaching isn’t my main concern.” In retrospect, what a reductionist and naïve thing to say.

I love reading and learning new things. I love teaching students more deeply about topics I care about. I love working through complex ideas. I love being challenged. I love challenging others. I love building new relationships with people. I love watching my students grow.

I love my team. I feel very supported among my colleagues. I feel like my unusual approach to things are appreciated and that I’m being pushed in positive ways. Granted, this is just a review from my first term. As I jokingly say to my students, “You’re lucky you got me while I’m all bright and shiny. I’m sure this won’t last forever.”

So where does the grief about taking the academic role come into play? Well, it’s very sneaky. In some ways, landing this role means two “big” things: (1) I’m away from the person I cared about the most which contributed to our demise -- I effectively chose career over this person and (2) I’m a part of the system I critiqued so heavily for many years. It boils down to valuing my career over people on both fronts. Am I allowed to be critical to academia when I’m participating and perpetuating two very harmful parts of it?

Am I allowed to be upset about heartbreak when I chose to be with someone who is stuck in a similar position as me? Forced to choose between career progression and romance? Sadly romance never tends to win out in the infamous “two body problem” lest you’re married. We were no where close to being married. Heck, we couldn’t even agree on similar literature for a manuscript draft. Anyways, the grief manifests in the guilt of “wanting better” for myself while also understanding why such harm would be done towards me. I’m angry, and yet I find the choice justified because I’ve been brainwashed to accept the brokenness of the academic system instead of challenging it more outwardly. It’s embarrassing for me, my cowardice towards the situation.

The second layer of guilt comes from giving academia a singular chance, and loving it once I stepped in. I applied for one academic position after graduating and got it. Who does that? I felt so bad after hearing I had gotten the job. I kept thinking “I know so many awesome scholars who try again and again to get a job so why am I more special than them in any way?”

I spent so many years of my doctorate being jaded by the emotional damage inflicted on me by others in positions higher to me. In some ways, I felt like a punching bag -- an easy target. I kept my head down and suffered “alone” for a lot of it. I found solstice in the venting void that was #academictwitter. I made friends online, and persisted. I see the same cycle in job applications beginning again among my peers. I wanted to tell them it’ll be okay, but I’m not sure I can in good faith. Herein, once again, is where that grief arises. 

I wonder where this loneliness will lead me. The decision to uproot and briefly settle every few years is truly a marathon. Consider this as a brief dip into the realities of that journey, many of us early-career-academics, collectively rationalise and undertake. 

I have no answers to resolving some of the emotional tensions I’ve pointed out here beyond looking to and leaning on my constellations of care. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also believe in the power of community. I trust and deeply love my chosen communities. 

By sharing my thoughts and reflections, I hope that others in a similar position to me (or not) can benefit from the solidarity in emotional transparency. I know I open myself up for criticism in such vulnerability, but criticism is just a part of the process isn’t it? I would like to think I’m an ongoing “work in process” human. It’s only up from here. 

To end, I’ll be silly and listen to a song that used to soothe me in my middle school years. A common misconception about people who like pop punk is that we’re all hyperactive and overly happy. I guess I’m one of those weird pop punk kids who only listens to *sad* pop punk. The sadder and whinier, the better. “Leaving” by The Starting Line (2003) seems most appropriate for the occasion.