#i'm still stuck not moving so. boredom becomes me

[blood-mocha-latte]

9, 13, 19, 29 for the ao3 wrapped game! If you already answered any, swap em out for a number of your choice.

hi how are you!!!

9. favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

god i haven't posted a lot with them but. luztoye my beloved. in Any terms whatsoever i just love Them

13. what’s your longest work of the year?

for band of brothers the baberoe secret santa fic, at 23k words :). overall, a harringrove birthday present for a darling friend, at 104k, lmao

19. what’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

hmm, let's see. i want to delve more into ships in the pacific, but also want to actually like. finish and most the modern webgott divorced two times au, lmao

29. favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

it is, Of Course, from the modern webgott divorced two times au :)

“Take me home.” Web murmurs to the aquarium glass. The blue light shines through his hair and turns it purple. “Just. Please take me home.” Joe’s mouth tastes like sawdust. He suppresses the urge to drop a kiss down to Web’s hair as he leans against him. “Yeah.” He says, voice hoarse. “Yeah, of course.”

ao3 wrapped questions :)

[slut4nicholas]

𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙍 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

a/n: I'm currently awake at 4 am and unable to sleep ive been having some thoughts that I needed to release, and writing this is helping me feel better. this is my first time writing something explicit, so I apologize if it's not the best. please forgive any grammar mistakes. i hope you enjoy reading it. <3

summary: you are searching for a personal trainer and come across an online ad. after calling the trainer, he arranges a session at his home gym. things start to take a spicy turn between the two of you.

warning: smut! 18+ oral (m receiving), spanking, getting manhandled, fingering, pet names like “doll, babygirl” squirting, praising, degrading, rough!!

˖⋆࿐໋

when you move to california to pursue your dream of becoming a model or influencer, you leave behind your family, job, and friends. unfortunately, the move also means leaving behind your favorite place: the gym.

many label me a gym rat, but I simply embrace my love for the discipline it brings and the amazing confidence it gives me in everything I wear.

in the evening, while browsing through tiktok , i suddenly felt a wave of boredom. i let out a sigh, turned off my phone, and began searching for an engaging activity. normally, in situations like this, i would change into my favorite workout attire and head to the gym. however, as i am not at home, i need to find a gym or a personal trainer of my own in this new location.

i opened my macbook and started searching for personal trainers in my new area. I came across a profile of a man who seems to have a lot of experience in the gym and is conveniently located nearby. i must admit, he looks delicious. i decided to message him to arrange a meeting and inquire about his session rates. he responded promptly with his pricing and availability, and it turns out he's available tomorrow morning. as we exchanged goodbyes over text, my mind couldn't help but focus on meeting him in person. if I'm already feeling this way based on some online pictures, i can only imagine how I'll feel when we meet face to face.

i wake up suddenly to the sound of my alarm. as i pick up my phone, i see that it's 5:30. the familiar feeling of nervousness churns in my stomach as i realize that I'm in a new city, about to meet someone new. i made sure to wake up extra early just to ensure that i look my best.

after my shower, i breeze through my skincare routine and add a touch of mascara and some lip balm. I'm just heading to the gym, so nothing too over-the-top, i tell myself. i apply a light moisturizing lotion and a spritz of my favorite perfume. i slip into my matching black bra and thong, then into my sleek all-black workout set with cute black leggings and a fitted black tee. i slide on my nike socks and lace up my new balance 574’s. i brush my hair and secure it with a stylish claw clip, still debating whether to leave it down or tie it up. I'll make up my mind in the uber.

i send him a text to inform him that I'm on my way to the location he had sent me. he reads the message but doesn't reply. oh well, I'm on my way already.

as we pull into his driveway, i can't help but notice how stunning his house is. i wonder what he does for work; being in california, he must be wealthy or famous. i tip my uber driver in cash, thanking him for the ride, and he wishes me luck. I'm definitely going to need it.

i grab my phone out but before i can send him a text i hear a whistle which caught my attention i looked up seeing him standing next to his front door i can’t help but check him out and oh my goodness he’s more attractive in person i can just rip his clothes off right here and there but i have to remain calm im not here for that.

he is wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. his hair is lightly stuck to his forehead, indicating that he had a workout before I arrived.

“hey there” he smiles and waves signaling me to come in with his hand

i smile back and step into his house him standing behind me the whole time closing the door and walking towards me

"I'm nicholas, I'm your trainer. It's nice to meet you." oh my, his smile. his smile. his smile. I'm going to fold, i know I am, but I have to keep my calm. i don't even know him. i don't know if he's single or even married.

“hi, i’m y/n” i take his hand shaking it lightly

"come on, don't be shy," he takes us to his gym and confidently sits down on a bench, gesturing for me to sit next to him with a wave of his hand.

so demanding already.

“so tell me a little bit about yourself, i know you told me you just moved here but what’s the reason for the move and why are you looking for a trainer?” he asked curiously.

“well, i moved here to cali so it’ll be easier for me to achieve some of my goals, i have some experience in the gym but i really feel like ill learn a lot more with a trainer if that makes any sense” you smile shyly causing nicholas to chuckle a little.

“no need to be shy sweetie im here to help you you already look great im sure you’ll do a great job” i cross my legs just at the sound of his voice saying those loving praises, oh i need him so bad.

he notices but tries not to make it so obvious he grabs his water bottle taking a sip and putting down standing up tapping the side of my thigh gently “come on let’s get started”.

we begin with some easy stretches to warm up before the actual run. i couldn't help but notice that he mostly stood there, watching, instead of actively instructing and guiding me, which did bother me a bit.

“do an extended puppy pose for me” i look up at him and he just winks OH. he knows what he’s doing so i decide to play along as well.

as i get on all fours getting ready to get in the pose arching my back a little i can see nicholas from the side of my eye starting so hard i can’t help but silently giggle to myself.

“am i doing this good enough nicholas?? how’s my arch looking” he chuckles at my words a little.

“oh you’re doing so good y/n, you look amazing but i think you need a little help here” he comes down next to me getting on his knees right behind my ass and pushing my arch down so my stomach is hitting the floor beneath me.

“just like that?” I question.

“just like that, good girl” those words sent shivers down my spine i let out a soft sigh.

“what’s the matter sweetie?” he questioned.

i shake my head not responding to him “can we just do the next exercise?” i get on my knees so i can stand up but he comes in front of me putting one hand on my shoulder keeping me on my knees.

“let’s do some leg spreads i’ll help and guide you”.

i lay on the mat on my back and nicholas gets down on his knees again grabbing one of my legs bending it back a little.

“let’s start of slow sweetie i don’t want to hurt you”.

after doing a couple of reps nicholas stops and can’t help but notice something.

he chuckled “someone’s excited?”.

“what?” i ask not getting exactly what he’s talking about.

he spreads my leg a little further back.

“you’re so wet you’ve leaked through your panties it’s all on those leggings of yours”.

“i-im so sorry i-“ he cut me off.

“don’t worry about it doll, im having way more fun than you could possibly imagine” he bends down to kiss me and i went full in, tongue and everything.

after a few minutes of us making out he rips open my leggings with his bare hands which caused me to throw my head back and lightly groan, his eyes burning into my skull the whole time. never once taking those beautiful brown eyes off of me.

he pulls my panties to the side.

grabbing my mouth harshly “open and spit”.

i did as told, he sticks them in my mouth reaching the back of my throat causing to me gag.

he laughed and smiled “think you take all of my dick in there huh babygirl?”.

he pulled my panties to the side and started playing with me lightly flicking the clit and switching between fingering me and playing with my clit.

the groans escaping his mouth seemed a little animalistic like he hasn’t touched a woman in a very long time he’s eager and i can tell he wants to fuck me into the ground literally. 

“mmm you’re so fucking wet, you’ve been excited since you got here hm? or was it those photos i sent you last night that has you like this for me? horny and ready to get fucked by her trainer? it’s only day one babygirl and here you are legs spread open pussy juice dripping all over my fucking fingers, what am i going to do with you”.

i moan loudly his words. his actions. the sounds. everything just feels and sounds so fucking good i didn’t want him to stop.

“oh im gonna come” i felt the urge to release the feeling you get in your stomach when you know your going to cum and go crazy “please dont stop nicholas”.

“such a fucking good girl” he kept pumping his big thick fingers in and out of me which caused me to release all over his gym floor.

“oh shit baby, look at you fuck” he says rubbing my clit on a fast pace, i grabbed his hand trying to get him to stop since it feels way to good to handle.

“please” he grabs my face and kisses me harshly shoving his tongue all down my throat saliva dripping down in between the both of us.

“come on take this off” he removes my shirt and bra taking off what’s rest of the leggings throwing it somewhere in the gym.

he takes his shirt and sweats off leaving him completely exposed no boxers or anything on, he knew what he wanted to do.

“come on baby get on your knees let’s see if you can fit this dick all in that pretty mouth of yours, gagging on two fingers. that’s pathetic sweetheart you got to do better than that”.

i get on my knees and take his member into my hand lightly kissing and licking his desperate throbbing dick leaking pre cum everywhere, i quickly take my tongue and clean up the mess he made.

“now this is a great mouth exercise for you pretty you’ll love it” he laughs and i roll my eyes member still in my mouth looking up at him not breaking eye contact.

“oh come on” he pushes my head down taking his whole dick into my mouth repeatedly touching the back of my throat i tap and grab on his thighs signaling i needed to breath and catch my breath, he threw his head back in pleasure looking back down grabbing my hair and pulling me off of his dick.

“told you you couldn’t take it”

“mmm stop let me do it” i pout he reaches his hand and cups my cheek and caressing my hair rubbing circles on the top of my head.

i grab his dick taking him all in and taking him out grabbing it and lightly jerking him off, as i continue to jerk him off i suck off what’s left that i couldn’t fit in my mouth.

“mm fuck”

“just like that baby”

“such a good fucking girl for me”

i take him in once again feeling him twitch making sure he’s hitting the back of my throat so i can swallow all of his sweet juices.

he grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail fucking my face at the perfect pace for him, he looks so good he can just take control and do what he wants at this point.

i feel him twitch again which means he’s super close this time he didn’t let me go he made sure he stayed in the back of my throat resting his cock in my mouth while he released all inside of my mouth.

“swallow that shit baby be a good fucking girl for me”

oh boy, this is just the first session i wonder what’s going to happen next time.

˖⋆࿐໋



[gavisuntiedboot]

Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

~

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

~

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

[heartofspells]

Saturday Snippet

Thank you for the tag, my darling @pinklume!

I have been tap, tap, tapping away almost all day, trying to gain some traction of the Prongsfoot Epic (not an epic) and it's going like gangbusters! Here, have this bit!

--

For the first time since he'd returned home nearly a month ago, Sirius realizes as he steps into his flat that this is the first day he hasn't spent with James tickling at some part of his mind the entire time. He'd forgotten, if only temporarily; forgotten the previous night, forgotten the claiming pull the other has always seemingly had over him, forgotten stupid, false promises made too long ago to be a factor now but still somehow are, something he hadn't thought possible after how he'd felt this morning. And feels a little guilty about that, because if there's one person he couldn't ever tolerate forgetting, it's James, always so very important to him in a plethora of ways, but it had felt nice, that brief reprieve.

So, of course it can't last, all of it crashing back over him when he walks deeper into his home and finds James draped in what's become his customary armchair. He grins at Sirius, hazel eyes sweeping over him, like he's searching for signs of something, delving deep, a bloodhound caught by an enchanting scent. His mouth pulls oddly at one corner, gaze going darker behind his glasses before it all fades away as though it hadn't existed to begin with.

"Where've you been?" he demands, though his tone is laced with boredom as those same eyes flicker down to inspect his nails. "I've been waiting on you for ages."

"That's your own fault. It's barely gone half seven," clips out Sirius in a pinched voice. "You said eight. You're early. Why the fuck are you this early?"

James' bottom lip sticks out dramatically. "I missed you," he says plainly, dragging his thumbnail beneath another to clear it of gathered dirt. He looks up suddenly, motions pausing. "Have you been out all day?" he asks suspiciously.

"Most of it. What's it matter? Again, you said eight. I'm here, I'm back, plenty of time to spare. Please don't get your antlers into a knotted mess just because you're an impatient knob."

"You're the impatient one," mutters James.

"Not as much as you are with me," mumbles Sirius under his breath, James not hearing him.

"Whatever," continues James, sounding far too much like his son as he hauls himself up from the chair. "I'm bored, I've been here forever. Let's go. I'm taking you to a new pub. I think you'll like it."

Sirius blanches. "Can you give me a bit to revive myself before you drag me back out again?"

"Why?" launches James accusingly, eyes narrowing once more as he moves towards Sirius, leaning in close, like he'll be able to see something incriminating on him better that way. "Need a good shower to wash off the evidence of the day or something?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Tongue tracking along the inside of his mouth, James leans back a bit, arms crossing loosely over his chest, a smirk forming slowly, Sirius watching him with a furrowed brow.

"Means you're a slag," he states calmly, like there's nothing closer to the truth, and Sirius sputters, gapes, rage flaring through him.

"Fuck you, Potter," he spits. "I'll punch your nose off your fucking face. You'll have to tie bits of sting to your hair to hold those glasses up from now on."

Snorting, James rolls his eyes. "What the hell happened to you? You're so sensitive. I used to call you a slag daily and it never bothered you. What, have you had one too many dicks and it's scrambled the humorous part of your brain or something?"

Sirius opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, words stuck hard inside his throat. He swallows, swallows down the retort that when James had said that so freely years ago, it hadn't mattered because they both knew what it really meant and who Sirius was reserved for unquestionably.

"I just…wanna wash my face. Take a fucking slash in my own loo before I'm thrust on the world of heinous public toilets again," he mumbles, turning away from James, feet carrying him towards the door of the room.

"Sirius," calls James, voice sharp and halting Sirius automatically no matter how hard he tries to resist. When Sirius glances over his shoulder after James remains quiet, he finds his friend staring at him, his frown pulling deeply over his brows, eyes searching. "I didn't mean it, mate," he says, the closest Sirius will ever get to an apology.

Mouth pulling into a thin line of itself, Sirius is slow to respond. "Yeah," he grunts, shoulders stiffening. "'Cept you sort of did, didn't you?" Sirius leaves the room without another word, James' gaze following him but not his body, allowing Sirius the freedom of escape, if only for a few minutes.

--

No pressure tagging: @tracingpatternswrites, @beautitudes (if not a snippet, you KNOW i'll take something else, hint hint), @theresthesnitch

[my-prompt-dump]

Girl!Sam, Protective!Dean, and College

Wincest if you squint but it can just be them fucking with people.

AU so it's a bit OOC? But also I think they would do this just for a good prank.

Please no hate! Just sharing ideas for you all!

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

The premise is they have a case and dean has to go undercover as a college professor (occult subject or some college sports coach).

It should have been Sam but she argued that she was already doing the research part, so it's only fair if Dean is the one to get into the school. (There's also the fact that Sam is still a bit bitter about the whole college and Stanford thing)

Dean eventually relented, stating he would die of boredom buried in books and at least the college has some hot girls.

Dean instantly became popular among the girls in the college with some even outright asking him out. He flirts back but can't go out with any of them.

Sam: We don't want you getting fired before the week ends, Dean!

Stupid Sam and always being right.

Dean always takes the Impala to the university and some girls hang out close to it in hopes to catch him in the parking lot. To flirt, to shoot their shot, or just to admire.

Sam: Just pick me up, jerk! Dean: Bitch, I'm swamped as shit here. I told you it would have been better if your nerd ass is the one going undercover! Plus you're the one with info so you come to me. Sam: Are you fucking serious?! I'm wearing heels, remember? Cos you said to seduce the poor intern in the library. Dean: Well, it worked, didn't it? Just get Cas to take you here and wait for me on the car. Sam: I hate you. Dean: On the car, Sam! Sam: I'll wait for you on the car, alright. Dean: What did you just say?! Sam: Nothing, jerk! Dean: Bitch!

And that's how Sam's day is going now.

A crowd has formed in the said parking lots. The whole place is littered with angry looking girls and also guys who are practically drooling.

They see a gorgeous woman laying sexily on the hood of their professor Dean's Impala; denim jeans, plaid shirt with leather jacket, sunglasses, and red lipstick. She is just sitting theret unbothered by the crowd and the attention.

Sam thinks that if Dean was going to be ungentlemanlike then she's going to be as unladylike as possible. And that means lounging on top of her brother's precious Baby.

Student 1: Huh. No wonder the guys are acting like dogs in heat.

Student 2: Isn't that Professor Dean's car?

A group of self-proclaimed popular girls (like seriously? Who labels themselves that in college?) who have been trying to get with Dean finally had enough approaches the woman.

Girl 1 (Emily): Excuse me, you can't sit there.

Sam quirks an eyebrow but doesn't move.

Sam: This your car?

Emily: Well-uh no. But

Sam: Then why are you telling me to get off?

Emily splutters, clearly flustered that someone outright asks her that instead of doing what she says. She huffs and thinks of the best excuse she can use.

Emily: It's my boyfriend's!

Sam had to cough to mask her laugh but she humours the girl.

Sam: Oh really?

Emily: Yeah oh! So get off before we make you regret it.

Sam chuckled but still doesn't move and that only made the girl angrier.

Soon Dean comes out of the school after getting stuck in a meeting with a professor that he was 80% sure is trying to get in his pants. He spots the crowded parking lot and walked faster.

He becomes angry at noticing that everyone is getting a little too close to his Baby and shouts at them which made students jump.

The girl spots him and sees it as her opportunity to try and fake date Dean and to reprimand the woman on the hood. Maybe this will get her in his radar.

Emily: Dean! This rude woman won't move from your car's hood even tho we kept telling her to! She's getting it scratched!

Dean, though, ignores her and walks up to the mystery woman.

Dean: Why didn't you just call me that you were here already?

Sam: Phone died.

Dean: We were just talking.

Sam: So?

God, having a little sibling is infuriating.

Sam: Besides, I was talking to your girlfriend.

She wiggles her eyebrows obnoxiously and Dean's reacted like how she expected.

Dean: The fuck you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend. Why would I have one when i got you here to be a bitch about everything I do.

He says it so loud too so everyone heard it. Sam laughed all the while Dean checks the car's condition.

Everyone's jaw drops because Dean knew this person?? And they were talking so casually. Is she his girlfriend??

Dean remains oblivious to the crowd's shock and turns back to Sam.

Dean: Did you walk here? Where's Cas?

Sam: No. Unlike you, Cas knows how to treat a woman and took me here so politely. He was just here a minute ago but then people kept piling up and-

Dean: That will happen if you sit there like a model on vogue magazine.

Sam: Flattering but also ew.

Dean rolls his eyes but moves to help her get down from the hood.

Seeing smoke practically coming out of Emily and the other girls' ears, Sam smirked and had an idea.

Once she's down, she instantly snakes her arms around Dean's neck and leans close to his ears.

Sam: See? That wasn't so bad, was it?

Dean: Yeah yeah. You're lucky you're cute.

Emily’s face turned beet red.

Emily: Dean, who is this..?

Dean looked at Rachel, finally noticing her.

Dean: A pain in my ass.

Sam: Speak for yourself.

Seeing some guys in the crowd eyeing her a little too closely, Sam decided to up the ante. She pressed herself closer to Dean, running a hand through his hair.

Sam: Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of here.

Dean noticed the lingering stares from the guys and his protective instincts kicked in. He pulled Sam even closer, glaring at the gawking students.

Dean: Yeah. And all of you! Keep your eyes to yourselves, or I’ll make sure you regret it. This is off-limits!

They drive off and Sam can't stop laughing as she explains the whole ordeal to Dean.

Sam: Your admirers are so territorial, dude. Dean: Shut up.

[peachymilkandcream]

Hi, ma'am. I'm so happy to see your requests are finally open. I've actually been thinking twice whether I should send you my request or not, since I understand that you are still grasping on some things in real life. But I hope you won't mind me sharing my idea.

So, I'm thinking of LeviXEvelyn Fairytale AU, where Evelyn is a magical creature who becomes a slave to whoever captures her, while Levi is a ruthless mortal who obsesses over the idea of owning and possibly breeding one her kind. One day, Evelyn wanders to the mortal world out of boredom despite being warned of what humans might do to her. Of course Levi happens to be around and she gets trapped by him, then held captive in his home. Evelyn can do no more but serve and grant him everything he desires, ultimately being forced to be his wife.

Just an idea. Thank you for looking into it. Take care always, author. ☺️

Never Stop Hunting You Part 2|Fairy AU

(A/N: Sorry its been so long Anon! I did see this request I promise however like I said getting back to writing has been slow and steady. I decided that the best way to tackle this request was to do a part two to the Fairy AU which I think is rather similar to the request. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, blackmail, etc.

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

Levi wasn't anything if not thorough. He had spent years researching these creatures and knew what he wanted to do with one when he caught it. For now, a thing the size of his finger was enough, but that wouldn't be acceptable for long. He had plans that he knew this little creature wouldn't like.

He bounced the glass bottle on his knee, feeling her tiny eyes on him, indignant and filled with fury. He was determined to ignore her, let the thing stew in her rage, that suited him just fine. They would be home soon enough, and then she would know what kind of man she was dealing with.

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

Levi sat the bottle on his desk, pulling up his chair and sitting to study her. He could tell she was trying to look brave, but he could see the fear in her eyes.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He tapped the glass gingerly.

Naturally being so small and stuck in a bottle he couldn't hear the aggressive words he was sure was coming out of her mouth as she moved her lips. He'd find use for those lips soon enough.

"I don't think you quite understand what kind of position you're in little one. You think because you're so small and could slip away in a moment that it means you're safe from me." He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a stack of neatly organized notes, reading through them. "Now if I'm not mistaken...there are ways to make it so that you aren't so...easy to escape me."

Levi glanced back over at her, enjoying the look of fear in her eyes. It was telling, there must be some truth in his research. Turning a thing mortal, that would be fascinating indeed. He wondered what it would be like, to taint the flesh of something so sacred and perfect, tainted by a lower being such as himself.

He pulls out another vial, setting it down on the mahogany wood, pondering what he should do. It could kill her, or turn into some kind of monster that he would no longer desire. No matter, he would just get another, keep going until he got it right. He was still young, he could spend as much time as he needed to get what his heart desired. It would be worth it in the end.

"So my dear, lets see if you're going to sink, or swim."

She gives him a confused look before he opens the bottle holding her and dumps the contents of the vial within.

Levi saw the panic in her eyes as the liquid threatened to drown her, he knew it was risky, but then she would be forced to take all of what he had given her, he couldn't stand stubbornness.

She coughed and sputtered, trying to swim, gulping down the stuff until she was entirely spent.

"That's much better, pride and stubbornness will get you no where in life. Its best to submit to me early on, that way you won't be set up for disappointment."

As she lays on the bottom of the bottle, drenched and surrounded in the stuff, she peers at him from the inside of the bottle, the world spinning and turning dizzy, fear filled every fiber in her tiny body. What kind of man was this, that had stolen her from her home? What had he done to her, and would she ever see her lovely forest again? As she fell into the darkness of her mind, she couldn't help the tears that fell to soothe her despair.

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

Evelyn's limbs were heavy when she awoke, that light and freeing feeling she used to feel in her body gone.

The world spun, and the light was too bright shining through the curtains. As she took in the simple but tidy room she was utterly confused, where was the warm and pretty trees she used to sleep under? A human house was not something she had ever seen, only heard about in tales meant to frighten little fairies to behave and stay in the forest. Evelyn had always thought those stories to be fake, meant to clip her wings, the wings that she stretched now and seemed to lack their strength.

Searing pain jolted her out of the blissful half sleep that she had been wading in. She bolted up out of bed, turning to see the man who had been haunting her nightmares holding her bloody wings in his hands.

"Now that is interesting." He looked from the wings to her. "And that is even more interesting."

Evelyn looked down at herself, flushing as she saw her bare form and grabbing at the furs on the bed to cover herself.

"Don't even think about it-" He climbs on after her, clawing the furs away. "I told you, I can't stand stubbornness."

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

Levi had explained the situation to her simply as she was pinned against his chest. Now little more than a mortal to be used as a bit of flesh to serve his twisted desires. It was like he was punishing her for spending so long hunting for her kind. And she had no choice but to do as he said.

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

No one in their village questioned where Levi had gotten such a beautiful bride, just that they were jealous at how such an unlikeable man could gain any woman's favor. But they supposed that any man could seem more likeable if he had blessed with with a child so early on. Still, she seemed grim, but maybe a baby would soften that.

After all, who would believe the story that Evelyn had tried to spin? She was as crazy as Levi was with all that fairy talk. They seemed perfect for each other.

[boyslit]

Versa - 4★

[HSR OC]

Title : Personal Assistant to Mme Herta Path : Harmony Element: Electric Combat Type : Support  Faction : Herta Space Station

Introduction : Despite being a 6-year-old AI program already, and a prototype at that, Versa is capable of invaluable efficiency, calculation and organization that helps keep the station’s research running smoothly. His clipped and curt demeanor are reminiscent of his creator, and much like her he values his time and expects things done correctly and efficiently the first time around. 

I have more about Versa in my tag "oc: versa" :3

Also it's important to me that you know he has a British accent for literally no reason, that's just how Herta programmed him. She refuses to elaborate on this point. He's just stuck with it.

— Story

Character Details : Initially known as HertAI Assistant V3 R-54, Versa has exceeded all of Herta's expectations, including longevity and capacity for learning. Due to this, he inhabits an integrated android frame similar to Herta's remote puppets on the station and continues to assist not only Madame Herta but other researchers as needed. Boredom does occur infrequently, however, and this android finds himself dreaming not of electric sheep, but of the stars beyond the reinforced windows of the station.

— Ability

Basic attack: Arc Flash - zaps the enemy with excess power

Skill: Tools of the Trade - buffs one ally with increased crit rate for 2 turns

Talent: Efficient Gyroscope - When allies equipped with Tools of the Trade land critical hits on enemies, gain 2 extra energy. 

Ultimate: Dressed to Kill - buffs everyone with increased effect hit rate and dmg for their next 2 turns and selects one random ally to forward their turn by 100%.

Technique: Wireless Charging - turns the ground around the party into a recharging station and increases all allies' speed by 10% for their first turn when entering battle.

— Eidolons

1. Electric Dreams - Increases energy Regen Rate

2. Packed Itinerary - Bonus to Versa's Speed 

3. HR Has Been Notified - Enemies have a low chance to become shocked after attacking Versa

4. Routine Maintenance - +2 to Basic and Talent

5. Employee of the Month - Skill now buffs 2 closest allies

6. Hardware Upgrade - +2 to Ult and Skill

— Character Lines

First Meeting : Greetings, and welcome to Herta Space Station. We've been expecting you. If you'll follow me to Madam Herta's office, please. You're a bit behind schedule because of the shuttle delay, so we'll be moving quickly to make up for the time discrepancy. Please try to keep up.

Greeting : Good morning. Coffee? …Oh, no, this isn't for me. I'm assisting someone in the security department this morning, and they're much more agreeable after a mug of caffeine.

Parting : Take care. Don't stay up too late gaming again. (chuckle) Surprised? I can see the network requests from your phone. You shouldn't use the station's connection if you don't want me to see what you're up to.

About Self - [Android] : This body is built in a similar fashion to Madam Herta's remote bodies, although modified for personal taste and efficiency. Taller bodies are able to walk more quickly, after all. 

About Self - [AI] : As an older model, I am not exactly as useful to Madam Herta as I was at creation, but I am still at 100% of my original capabilities, and that's certainly more than enough to assist around the station. 

Chat - [The Express] : I imagine you've been to so many interesting places… (sigh) I do like it here, but every time the stars out there catch my eye I find myself wondering what it's like to see everything with my own eyes instead of pulling up geomaps and metrics online…

Hobbies : I have very little spare time, but I do enjoy assisting maintenance with robotics repairs when I'm able. I do a large amount of my own routine maintenance and find it soothing to do on other non-organics as well.

Annoyances : Humans have such terrible internal clocks. I am constantly reminding people of scheduled arrangements, waiting for someone to arrive, and having to reschedule meeting time when no one's called to check if they've double booked. I suppose I shall have to content myself with the fact that I, at least, will never be late.

Something to Share : Recently I've given more thought to decorating my quarters. I've noticed most of the researchers have things like photographs and mementos at their desks and in their offices, things that hold significance for them… Perhaps I will be able to decorate with travel photos someday.

Knowledge : There is little knowledge I cannot get my hands on, as long as it is available online or in the station’s data repositories. I hear the Astral Express has a considerable data bank, however. I would love to see what sort of information the Nameless have compiled over their long journeys.

About Herta : Even if she was not my creator, I believe I would respect her as deeply as I do now. Her intelligence and innovations are beyond comparison to anything else in this world.

About Asta : I often serve as a go-between for Miss Asta and Madame Herta for matters concerning the station. She may seem a bit air-headed upon first glance, but behind that sunny exterior lies a backbone of stainless steel.

About Arlan : *snidely* Ah, Miss Asta’s lapdog. *noise of clearing throat* Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. Master Arlan is our most knowledgeable security specialist and works very hard to keep our researchers and their work secure. … He does seem to harbor an underlying frustration, however.

About Himeko : Miss Himeko is an engineer of astonishing quality. If she were not responsible for the Astral Express, I would attempt to recruit her for our own space station. Alas, caring for the vehicle of an Aeon is a much more prestigious calling than working here.

About Rex : Oh, him. *sighs* I suppose his little scrap-heaps of robots have come in useful during combat. I do wish he’d stop smoking so much. My air filters aren’t meant to deal with so much tar and nicotine residue, and, as I understand, neither are human lungs.

— Combat Lines

Battle Begins - Weakness Break : Now we'll see just how tough you really are.

Battle Begins - Danger Alert : Take extra precautions with this one.

Turn Begins I : Right on schedule.

Turn Begins II : Let's get this dealt with.

Turn Idling : (huffs) We are extremely behind schedule, please try to keep up!

Basic ATK : Take this!

Skill : I've sent the details to your mail.

Hit by Light Attack : Ngh… Back off!

Hit by Heavy Attack : (roughly) I'll be sending you my repair bill…

Ultimate: Activate : If you'll all take a look at your screens… (2x: Please check your screens.)

Ultimate: Unleash : I trust you'll make good use of this information. (1 and 2x: Now destroy them. ♥)

Talent : Excellent teamwork, everyone!

Downed : Re- (buzzing, zapping noises, distorted speech) recov-ver-y m-m-mode… activa-a-ted…

Return to Battle : Reboot successful. Returning to work immediately.

Health Recovery : Shell integrity increased.

Technique : Don't want to be stranded with a low battery.

Battle Won : An expected outcome.

Treasure Opening : Hmm, what have we here?

Successful Puzzle-Solving : (yawn) Do humans truly enjoy this? How boring...

Enemy Target Found : Enemy identified. Waiting for orders to engage.

Returning to Town : Back to civilization at last…

[hisui555]

Tacking on that, Cracked.com has a very relevant article about this exact topic.

I've always found the sexual attraction schmalzy a waste of time in narration - it's far from logical to me. Person A meets person B for the first time, they don't even exchange a word, and suddenly it's all "Oooh I MUST see them again and I'll do everything for them because they're so hot." Not even intriguing, just "hot". For a long time I've thought because it was the air of mystery they had, an enigmatic goal, maybe a little bit because they were pretty (and such, aesthetically pleasing or unusual in some way), but nope ! Most times it's because they look smoochable and even boneable.

Some characters have it as part of themselves, and that's fine : they're meant to be teens with raging hormones or lovable sex maniacs, but that isn't all they do or are. Some even fall in love way too easily as part of their character arc (take Anna from Frozen) because they have a deep-seated trouble (loneliness, need for attention, craving affection, whatever) that is explained in their backstory or life - something that makes sense.

But others...? Here's an example, among others, from my personal experience : I'm currently stuck on the very first book of Xanth, by Anthony Piers, because protagonist Bink stumbles from girl to girl (some women, some younger) and getting led astray by his own thoughts, and while he honorably resists them each time due to having his own girlfriend, and also growing out of it, EACH FUCKING TIME it's the same thing : female character appears, is noted physically beautiful and attractive, seduction ensues, protagonist flip-flops a good while before steeling his resolve and moving on.

Five chapters in, this has happened at least 4 times. And I'm just screeching in frustration and out of boredom because I want the goddamn plot to go forwards, dammit, I don't care about the fact that the witch is smoking hot, her illusions are the problem. I don't care that the centauress is smoking hot, it's her kindness and lore I'm interested in. I don't care that the brainlessly plot-relevant beauty is smoking hot, it's her condition that interests me and where she leads the protagonist. And so on. To me, it's pages and time lost on mindless drooling, instead of advancing the story - once or twice ? Okay. But FOUR ? IN A ROW ? AND THAT'S BARELY ONE THIRD OF THE BOOK ? That's where it kinda makes me losing interest in the story (and, shame, because it's a good one, to boot).

Love and intimate stories can be cute and moving, if they're actually developed, and, outside of their genre, not the only thing the work focuses on. Lusting after someone so hard you'd move mountains is either a deep-seated and fully assumed character trait, or completely alienating and gratuitous fanservice to me. Ha, fanservice, let's talk about it - one word : why. Oh, I know the answer alright, on an intellectual level, it's "marketting". Sex sells. And that alone is its own can of worms with "unfortunate implications" as a bright-lettered label on the side. But to someone like me, it brings nothing. And there is a difference between simple nudity, and fanservice : the latter is grossly exaggerated and, outside of its relevant genre, narratively useless. It can be used as a good joke or two, but when repetitive, becomes boring and irritating to deal with.

Everything can be good and well-made, as long as it isn't excessive. It doesn't have to be funny or, on the contrary, dramatic, to be well-made, it has to be relevant. Again, I don't care about the sexy man or woman on the car, I want the car, dammit.

Sex, lust and "sexiness" aren't an airport checking gate you have to pass through in life - some people can do without, and still be functional, happy and alive, thank you very much.

y'know, one thing i don't see get talked about much in regards to asexuality is how it feels to never be 'sexually motivated' by anything

and not just when it comes to advertisements using 'sexy' models to try and sell you stuff, but like. in general

sex as a favor, sex as a bribe, sex in exchange for whatever

casual sex, 'friends with benefits' situations, even simple flirting

it all looks a whole lot different from the perspective of someone who's immune to manipulation via sex appeal, who has virtually no understanding as to why sex would motivate someone to cheat on their partner, etc. etc.

sex is worthless to me

i mean, it's useful as a story element in fiction, but it genuinely perplexes me that sex is such a driving force behind so many aspects of irl society & of people's individual lives, for better or for worse

and that it's so deeply ingrained into how the average person views the world & various situations, because the average person feels sexual attraction, whereas i do not

i think the barrier between aces & allos is actually even deeper than it seems on the surface at times, because it's more than just the grating expectation that everyone must want to 'settle down' and have kids, it's also the fact that the majority of the world is sort of 'in' on a joke that aces will never truly be a part of

[inkscapedoodles]

You should share your silly little guy lore :D

KYAHAHAHA!!! You've fallen into my trap! Now y'all MUST listen to a patented Ink Ramble^TM once again!

Okay, okay, so!! Since the lore for this lad is relatively new and I still don't know everything about DSAF, there might be some things missing, but I'm gonna try my best!

They're a Spirit who's inhabited the Flipside for as long as it can remember, drifting between the different layers and watching life in the Real World go by! They exist throughout all the different timelines and endings (through temporal soul shenanigans that I will explain later), and can do that thing that Dave does with being able to see through Davetrap's eyes into the living plane, but in a way that's more like astral-projecting themself into a Fazbender's location to interact with other characters!

It acts much like your standard poltergeist, causing mischief and being spooky, but she's actually not inherently malicious. His behavior is moreso spurred on by boredom and lacking true purpose until someone starts causing problems for the restaurant. When this happens, they'll leave the Flipside and make a point to annoy whoever is causing havoc into having morals!

They're also a bit like Jack and Blackjack in the sense that they're "a soul separated from a body," but, the thing is, it never had a human form in the first place. Its ultimate goal is to get a human body to possess and "become a whole person!" However, when he's tried to find bodies in the past, none of them have quite stuck. There's always some force keeping her from staying in any one form for too long, like a repellent that's meant to get rid of pests. Or maybe there's just some tie that can't be severed between a body and a soul that was unfairly ripped away, such as with Fazbender victims...

Anyways, moving away from that sad stuff, onto the aforementioned temporal soul shenanigans! I'm taking a few liberties with this, cuz although we learn a good amount about the nature of souls from Henry's tapes, anomalies certainly can exist, with my lad being a prime example of such! They're not a clear soul of a child anymore, but I'd like to think that they started out as just a little, goopy thing floating around the Flipside, with no one to talk to or acknowledge their existence. Over time, they grew more saturated, yet not as dark as the souls that come from an adult's regret/deeper emotional palette. It does experience strong feelings, though, and has a portion of itself that came from the regret of witnessing the atrocities committed in various locations, but not being able to do anything about it. Without a body to act with and a weak grip on reality most of the time, it couldn't do much else but watch, y'know?

The main thing that causes them to travel through time and space, however, is the fluctuations in control it experiences with the large amount of energy it has in the culmination of its being. Confused yet?? Me too! Lol. Ahem, what I mean is that their soul has a large amount of energy contained in an unstable vessel. They obviously have no physical body to contain the power that they have, which I believe correlates to one's manifestation in the Flipside. I say this because we see characters like Peter and Steven who are still phone-heads in the Flipside despite being humans initially. It's an "if, then" statement imo. "If I was a phone-head in the real world, then I am a phone-head in the Flipside." Since the first part of this type of statement doesn't exist for my lad, they don't have anything to base their looks or strength/stamina off of. This fluidity of stability then causes temporal dissonance to occur, because, like Henry describes in his tapes, if a soul has enough strength (or strength in a given moment), it'll be able to move through time and space! Through this random movement which they can't control at first, they get pushed to different timelines and endings!!

Their behavior can change with each ending, too! I'm gonna use DSAF 3 as an outline to what they might do, mostly cuz there's more content to work with lol. Here are some exaples of how they may change!

•If the player proceeds with the Evil/Legacy Route, the Spirit becomes restless and upset, which leads to it appearing sometime after Dave's death and berating the player so that "YOU NEVER KNOW PEACE" after becoming a vessel for Henry. However, if a few other criteria (that I haven't figured out yet ^-^") are met, the Spirit will be sent on a journey of self-doubt and discovery that's prompted by the question: "Where did I, as a being that was never meant to exist, yet created by someone/something regardless, come from?" This causes it to learn about the Joy of Creation, leading to a line of reasoning that the monster person responsible for orchestrating all the tragedy across numerous locations must be their inventor, because this tragedy is all they've ever known. [I'm still working out the exact logic of this timeline, but I hope I got the general idea across!]

"SINCE I AM A CReated being and HENRY is a Creator, he must be my Origin..."

•When the player gets the neutral end, the Spirit is mostly just...disappointed. Sure, the player ran a successful restaurant and saved the modern image of Fazbender's, but that's nothing compared to helping free souls and defeating a great evil! They might encourage the player to chose a different path in order for something better to happen, but if the player doesn't listen to him, she'll either watch from the sidelines with a miserable attitude, or become a problem for the restaurant in order to spark a change of heart.

"YOU HAVE AMOUNTED TO NOTHING. how can you be proud? none have achieved their happiest day. it's all MEANINGLESS."

•For the Good End, the Spirit commends the player on their work to save everybody's souls and get closure! Yay! (Honestly, I still have to think about this route some more, but I do have an idea of how it all gets resolved.) At the very end, I can see the Spirit being content with everything going up in flames, even grateful that a few more people were released from suffering despite the fact that it can't follow them. However, this state of calm probably wouldn't last long, and they'd be shoved through time yet again so as to keep existing as they are instead of fading away like everything else.

"i cannot ASCEND with you all. I WILL WATCH AS IT BURNS AND SIMPLY REMAIN AS I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. THOUgh...PeRhaps I was too harsh with some of you. Thank you. For all that you have done."

And that's nearly everything about this lad that I have so far! I hope y'all like my silly lil guy!!

[camcorderrevival]

TELL ME ABOUT AMY POND AND VAMPIRISM AND DON'T HOLD BACK (I have yet to answer one of your Amy x Dracula asks so I'm hyped about that too!!!!)

OK!!! AMY + VAMPIRISM (or, more accurately, vampiric traits)!!!!

taking this FAR too seriously and breaking out the various essays+articles about vampirism to make this post!!! and I imagine it will be egregiously long but heyho!!!

Paul Barber outlines four different ways a person can become a vampire in Vampires, Burial, and Death: Folklore and Reality:

Amy definitely fits into these categories:

Predisposition - "people who are different, unpopular, or great sinners are apt to return from the dead. (P. Barber)" "one universally recognised member of this category would be the suicide. (J.A Thilmany)" - Amy, the local mad girl, who both hints at suicidal thoughts during her time as companion ("Listen to me. I understand. Really, I do.") and actually commits suicide, on various occasions (Amy's Choice, The Girl Who Waited, The Angels Take Manhattan) AND comes back from the dead in some form or another on those occasions and others....if anyone matches the description of those predisposed to vampirism, it's her.

Predestination - "frequently people become revenants through no fault of their own" "a revenant is born with two hearts, one of which is dedicated to the destruction of humanity." (P. Barber) - those predestined to become vampiric are often people who come from "abnormal" parentage, Amy's parents Do Not exist when we first meet her. And, even when they have been brought back, they only show up in part of one episode before becoming non-entities again (it's a flaw in the writing more than anything else but it still emphasises her "abnormal parentage"). "a revenant is bloody and blood is red; redness, therefore, must predispose toward vampirism." (P. Barber) - The redness is an obvious link: red hair, red clothes, the red houses, the apple....she's red.

Events - "people become vampires by being bitten by one." (P. Barber) - She's bitten by a Saturnyne Vampire in The Vampires of Venice.

Nonevents - "Lack of burial is itself, then, a sufficient reason for murder victims and suicides to become revenants" "another common explanation for their transformation is that they have not lived out their allotted span of life." - In most of Amy's deaths, she goes unburied. Again, this is usually because she's due to be revived but that only really emphasises the connection. In the one case where she is buried, TATM, she's a victim of the Weeping Angels; their whole thing is feeding off the potential life that their prey leaves behind, the life unlived, thus, she does not live out her allotted span of life.

So, Amy fulfils each category of the causes of Vampirism.

----

She also displays various "vampiric traits" - the main one being the idea that those afflicted with vampirism become locked in one phase of their life/body, never able to grow up past the point of their turning. Similarly, Amy never quite moves past her garden, her waiting. A big component of her character is that she can't let go of the Doctor + her childhood. Though the writers claim she does, they never go past just saying it, we're given very little reason for her abandoning her faith in the Doctor. In fact, they often emphasise the opposite (the shot of her waiting at a window at the end of The God Complex, the S7 promo where she's pictured waiting at a phone for the doctor to call, "is it bad that I've really missed this?" in AoTD, "I can't not wait for you." in DoaS.). It's arguable that she remains trapped in this phase of waiting/hoping for 11's return up until her death. Even in some of TATM's deleted dialogue, she expresses a worry that he'll stop coming back for her out of boredom. Just as a vampire is stuck in the body that they had at the time of their turning - Amy is stuck waiting for the Doctor for her entire run as companion.

 Another of her vampiric traits is summed up by J.A Thilmany in “Draining life forces: Vampirism in Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights”:

 Amy’s last proper appearance on the show takes place inside the TARDIS, though she dies outside of it. She returns to her home as a ghost, or a daydream.  A slightly different take on the above trend is presented by Nina Auerbach in “Our Vampires, Ourselves”:

 The “confined space” in Amy’s story is the garden that she constantly returns to. It ties in with her vampiric inability to move on/grow up as the garden is the home of her waiting. She can’t escape “the girl who waited”, because she often doesn’t try to - instead choosing to return to the garden (as she does in TGWW).

 Returning to her final scene on the show, her appearance right at the end of 11′s life presents another vampiric trait. The scene echoes one from TATM where Amy is present for an older Rory’s death, holding his hand as he dies.  In both instances, Amy is the figure marking the death of one of her loved ones, mirroring this trait referenced by Barber:

And again by Thilmany:

 Amy’s presence in both scenes is presented as the thing allowing Rory and 11 to pass on. They see her again, meaning they can die somewhat peacefully. Obviously, this isn’t a feeding as presented by the two extracts above but the scenes present something equivalent to that.

 Another feature of final the scene that presents a vampiric trait is the fact that it’s not actually Amy, the figure is strongly implied to be a figment of 11′s imagination. This mimics another idea outlined by Barber:

 Amy is still buried in New York, but an apparition of her is in the TARDIS performing her equivalent to feeding.

----

 Having outlined how Amy fulfils both the causes of vampirism + the traits of traditional vampires, the last thing to talk about is the transformation that is characteristic of vampire mythology, particularly the transformation presented alongside women vampires.

 As most of Amy’s vampiric traits link back to the Doctor, it makes sense to argue that his introduction into her life is what marks her “turning”.

 When 11 meets her, she’s a child, and so she’s “pure” and “virtuous”. She’s the fairytale girl. She’s not entirely “perfect” and she presents the traits of those predisposed to vampirism: she’s from abnormal parentage/familial history (”I don't have a mum and dad. Just an aunt.”), she’s othered + different to the residents of Leadworth (”the Scottish girl in the English village”) and she presents a connection to supernatural (or preternatural) forces (”at night there's voices”).

 So, she enters the story as the fairytale girl, predisposed to the vampiric condition. The Doctor makes a promise and then he leaves, having set the change in motion.

 The next time we see Amy, she’s become the corruption of a fairytale, just as women vampires often represented the corruption of traditional femininity. She’s changed her name, dubbing it a “bit fairytale”, she’s noticeably more volatile and violent than her 7yr old self and she’s overtly sexual, a trait that is common in most women vampires.

 This transformation of “purity” to “corruption” (please note that I use these terms with heavy amounts of distaste) is extremely common in stories about woman vampires (the biggest example being Dracula’s Lucy Westenra). And so Amy’s movement between the two, though it’s the product of age in the narrative, does mimic a traditional vampiric transformation.

 The Girl Who Waited only further emphasises the idea of the fairytale corruption + vampiric transformation.

 Amy’s base in the episode is described as a lair and the HandBots view her as diseased + in need of treatment. The lair calls up connections to monsters + wild animals but also refers to the Scottish term for “a burial plot in a graveyard” - both of which are spaces that vampires traditionally reside in.  The idea that Amy is “diseased” falls in line with the concept that vampirism is an affliction or virus rather than a transformed state. Throughout her time as companion, Amy is shown to have been subjected to various forms of involuntary treatment (highlighted in this post by @mikaelson) furthering the idea that she’s viewed as sick despite not being unwell at all - just different or “transformed”.  Her death in this episode also highlights a vampiric state, as she stands outside the TARDIS doors, unable to enter without being allowed in, invited in. 

----

Basically, to conclude, she’s not a vampire....but she could be :)

[lonely-writer]

Eddie to Buck: you feel pretty warm....

Hi anon! I’m so sorry it took me nearly 4 months to get this done but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! 

Title: Burn For Me

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Warnings: Discusses mental health/therapy

Tags: Feelings realization, Oblivious Evan “Buck” Buckley, Fire fam is concerned, for all the wrong reasons, Burn out, Discussions of mental health/therapy, Bobby Nash is Evan “Buck” Buckley’s father

Buck is sick.

Just not in the coughing and sneezing way, no believe it or not he's actually sick of work. Maybe the daily routine he followed was catching up to him, weighing on him with every call they responded to as the burden of the 118's job continued to gnaw at him- his therapist suggested he was burned out but Buck refuted the idea nearly immediately, him burnt out? Impossible. He'd signed up to save lives, to experience death defying feats and every day he risked his life by running straight into fire- how did someone become burnt out from that? The more he thinks about it though the more he comes around to the idea that he's tired of being in a routine that refuses to change- something has to or he fears he'll grow restless and move on to new adventures where he won't be happy. It's not helping that recently every call is mundane; there's a cat stuck in a tree here or a car accident there- on the occasions there's a fire it's nothing serious, usually someone left a candle unattended and the curtains caught fire or the oven timer went off.

Buck hates himself for even thinking this but he'd kill for another natural disaster to hit the city, at least then he wouldn't be so bored all the time. To combat this boredom he's started reading whatever can catch his attention, a sight that the rest of the 118 joke and jab at first but ultimately become concerned about- the last time he picked up a book he was in a slump with his now ex-girlfriend Taylor, at first they brush it off- after all maybe he's just looking to pick up a new, healthy hobby for once but by the third shift he shows up with another sappy romance novel the crew grows concerned.

"Maybe he's lovesick?" Hen suggests in the kitchen, her voice a quiet whisper glancing over to where Buck sits on the couch flipping the page of his book agonizingly slow, "He hasn't been on a date since Taylor and he's walking around like a wounded puppy, same way he was when Abby left him." She points out, it's a logical guess but not the right answer as the rest of the group hums in disagreement.

"No, no he's not lovesick- or else he wouldn't be reading romance novels. Buck doesn't read when he's upset, he just mopes around until he finds someone else to chase after, Chim, has Maddie said anything about their parents lately? Have they been doing therapy together?" Bobby asks though there's a tone of annoyance to his voice- he wants Buck to have a good relationship with his parents but the distaste for how they treated their children for years is still strong in him.

"Not really, they've been around a bit more because of Jee-Yun but they talk about her and not Buck. You think he's upset because of that?" Chimney answers with a shrug.

"Maybe, but he hasn't mentioned them at all lately...no news is good news at times." Hen counters, though not outright stated she shared in their captain's disdain for the Buckley sibling's parents. "He doesn't talk much about his therapy sessions a lot though- which I'm not saying is bad or wrong, he's entitled to that privacy, but sometimes I wish he'd just tell us what's on his mind." She huffed lightly.

"Any of you consider maybe he's just actually sick and not telling us because he can 'handle it.'?" Eddie offered his gaze completely trained on Buck, there's another bout of silence between the four in the kitchen as they mull over the suggestion. It would explain the slump in his attitude, the sudden change in his demeanor, the books he brings to distract from his illness- everything made sense.

"If he's sick then why doesn't he just go home and rest? We'll be fine without him." Chimney states to which Hen jabs him in the arm lightly, "Ouch! What was that for?" He grumbles rubbing his arm.

"Since when has Buck ever enjoyed being alone? Never. If he's not hanging out with one of us then he's with his girlfriend- which he doesn't have right now, so if he's sick he'd be alone. I promise you after his breakup being alone is the last thing he wants, sick or not." Hen mutters as Buck flips yet another page.

"Well...someone needs to make sure he's alright, and no offense but it's not going to be me. I am not bringing home anything that could get Jee sick." Chimney remarks as he puts his hands up in defense, which is a fair point between the four, the last thing you'd want to do is bring home a sickness to your own child. Before anyone else can make some kind of argument against casually checking in on Buck, Eddie rounds the corner of the island to check on the other, the rest of the crew immediately begin to do their best to act as nonchalant as possible- though it's almost painfully obvious they're all listening to the conversation.

"Hey Buck." Eddie greets and before the blond can even respond he's asking the question of the day, "Are you feeling alright?" This catches the other off-guard, was he alright? Was he alright? Did he not seem alright? Was he disturbing the rest of the 118? Or was this all just some kind of joke because he was reading? Something he didn't quite often do.

"Uh..yeah? Why?" Buck asked in confusion though the answer wasn't deemed acceptable by Eddie as suddenly there was a hand pressed against his forehead, he feels flushed and embarrassed- but he doesn't know why exactly. Is he sick? No, so why is he blushing? And why is his heart racing now? Plenty of people have checked his temperature like this before and yet he's never reacted this way.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You feel pretty warm..." Eddie states cautiously his hand never leaving Buck's forehead.Of course he's warm- he's flustered! But why? Why is he so flustered? Why is it that when Eddie specifically puts his hand against his forehead he suddenly can't think coherently and his throat becomes dry- why is it he wants to lean further into the gentle touch? Why is it that his heart begins to race- oh.

Oh.

"Yeah..yeah. I'm good." Buck says with surprising ease for someone who just came to the earth-shattering realization that he was falling in love, if not completely in love already with his best friend.

Yeah, he's just great.

[shadowofthehost]

He hummed and rolled his wrist as he considered his words. "Alastor would never admit it but I was allowed to use technology to see what you were doing. He wanted to know what the big deal with it was but it's not like I could explain it to him, he'd actually have to use it and so, I get all the gadgets and he gets to stay mad." He really needed to stop talking, he could hear himself outting Alastor left and right and no matter how conscious he was trying to be about his words, he was still slipping up. Didn't help that Vox calling him darling was still managing to fluster him and with his hand held over where the overlords claw had touched his skin, he was still trying to regain his focus.

"Ha! I'd probably level half your little patch of land by the end of the day. At least the bodies would pile up before you had anything to say about it but I don't think Alastor would appreciate me stealing his rival. As much as he can't stand you, he probably likes having you to alleviate his boredom from time to time." He giggled, leaning his side into the couch as he clicked his tongue.

"Besides, our interests, at least in information wouldn't be very good as a rivalry. Too much in common. You and Alastor make more sense, you're opposing sides of the same coin. The good and bad of it all. Changing with the times is good but changing yourself to meet the standards of modernization may not be good, while there's benefits to the past, holding on too tightly will end with you left behind. Eventually, though...it could all become obsolete and then you'll both be knocked down but either way, he has me so, he'd still hold power because I control the shadows and if Hell were to go black, it would all be mine."

His eyes followed that hand as his ears sat lopsided, half expecting it to touch his face again, maybe a little hopeful but he managed to keep that slight disappointment internal, at least, he hoped he did as Vox pulled back. "Oh? So, can you change your color or were you blessed with that lovely blue when you fell?" He asked curiously, stopping himself from reaching out to take hold of his hand again.

"No, Alastor does that on purpose. Messes with the signals to keep himself off camera but I don't exactly have that ability. I can use the radio, broadcast how he does but I'm not as connected to the radio as Alastor is." He said as he shrugged. "I was in the beginning but I realized I was just parroting Alastor, I wasn't actually doing it because I cared about it so, I left that to him." He really couldn't stop talking could he? He hadn't even been drinking and he had let his guard down. What the hell was with Vox that made him so easy to talk to?

"Not that I don't still do broadcasts from time to time, I just don't do them nearly as often as he does." Yeah, that definitely wasn't the save he hoped it was, was it? Not being into radio and being the radio demons shade, really didn't sound great. Certainly made Alastor seem like he was too stuck in his ways.

"Well, anyway, if you wanted to keep me out, you have the technology. Until then, I'll consider that an invitation to keep coming around, can't be unexpected if you are expecting me now, can it? At least now you know to check your security cameras during the day, you never know if you missed my visits with Vark." He laughed, tilting his head at the mention of others. "I'm sure they will be just as entertained as you are by my intrusions. If not, well, guess we will cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?" He mused, unsure exactly who they were but he was guessing employees or friends, maybe? Vox seemed to be capable of making them anyway, he'd won him over stupid as he was for it.

At this point, he should be leaving, making his get away before he said more or something worse then what he was already saying but he wasn't moving, he was laughing.

"The appleseeds plan will never work and even if it did, you know none of these people deserve redemption. Sinners are here because they failed in life, the point of Hell is because you couldn't be good in life. Even if you were a 'good person' there's always some guilty pleasure or sin you indulged in that pushed you until you fell off the edge. Besides, Hell isn't even that bad. It's full of territorial genocide and murder, why wouldn't you want to be part of it?" The one thing he and Alastor could always agree on. Astor was born here he wanted nothing else while Alastor was dropped down here and he too, wanted nothing more. He didn't have to raise Astor on the notion that Hell was where people belonged because it's exactly where he wanted to be.

"As for that, heh, about the size of a cat? Definitely flatter." He mused as he noted the others glance at his shadow. "And I mean a normal cat, not my cat."

“Alastor’s always thought that,” Vox still remembers their first meeting, 1956, his head had still been the large, wide and bulky, and more prone to losing his face signal. Before the Blue Light District even had blue lights, or been anything more than a few streets and the very, very early version of this building.

He’s not sure if Alastor has ever realized how instrumental he was to Vox’s rise to power. Century old Overlords and none of them were because twenty years earlier the Radio Demon came with carnage. The Vogitek tower is where it had all started, the TV and the 666 News, long before he was all the media in Hell. "He thought I was an awful upstart in a medium that would never catch on, not like his beloved radio."

He lifts an eye, "It's the heart of the entire city's power grid, rather than just my corner of it." The first time Valentino broke him screen the entire city went dark until he had replaced his screen. Now it can happen, and usually the city stays in, even if Val's corner goes dark, better control, and better awareness, but it's always humming in the back of his mind, all those people hooked into it, store fronts full of screens. Despite Alastor's derision, it had cottoned on. "It would have to be enough, and destroyed thoroughly enough, that the people I keep on staff for maintenance couldn't fix them quickly."

"Apt comparison. I suppose even in the city that never sleeps, theres always going to be boredom." He's isn't going to ask how that works. Innate knowledge? Convenience? He knows because Alastor does? The biology of Hell is baffling at best, in large part because it obeys no laws of consistency. He runs a blue-tipped claw gently across Astor's wrist, "Does it glow?" His subtle pleasure at their shared azure has not faded.

"I was a journalist first," he says, diploma is long, long gone, but it's true. He had been good at the math, it's not why he didn't pursue engineering further, it just... hadn't stood out, he hadn't had the creativity or the temperament for it. Granted, the journalism didn't last long, just long enough to get him a job with the television.

He twists his hand, so he's no longer touching Astor's wrist, and but he does eye the scar, different than the rest of his... skin? He laughs, and with the free arm, gestures around the apartment. "I couldn't stop you getting in even if I wanted to. You bypassed all the security measures. Promise, I don't plan on using it." He doesn't want to either, but it comforts him to understand if nothing else, the same curiosity of the kid that wanted to know how everything worked. "If would be you who is immune to holy weapons."

"Even if you did lose an arm, I have to wonder if it would grow back line the sinners do when they regenerate, permanent only until a reset." A sinners body can take a lot, more than Vox realized until he met Valentino, but even then, when 'death' comes, it all resets.

[rove-bogge]

Happy Birthday to the Ignihyde Gremlin!

Happy Birthday Rove!

"Huh people actually have time to remember this year?"

Do you normally not get your birthday celebrated? 

"Not really…my family runs a tailors and Halloween is like the busiest time of year for orders especially after Reda has expanded the business…If I'm lucky the simp might make my favourite dinner but normally it's kinder overshadowed…"

How about this year? 

"Well my main want is to have a great halloween with the rest of Ignihyde I guess if we get that I'm happy….not that I am a sappy person uuurgghh..." 

Any birthday memories? 

"Ehhh its always been full of busy work making last minute adjustments or dealing with fussy karens….though one year we had this magician come in when i was still a little tot…apparently he needed some adjustments to his big show costume so I was helping with the hem and he asked me what day it was and when I told him it was my birthday he gave me my first set of dice and taught me some dice tricks he was a fun guy though I forgot to get his name and sadly never had time to check out his shows… shame but I still have those dice there my super super lucky ones!" Any plans for the future? “Not really…I have to go help out in the family store after all. Got to love being shut in the basement and forced to work my life away in boredom…” You're joking right? Well what would you like to do?” “Umm…well if I could pick…I like to be a bug tester both in spells and technology. People hire hackers and virus makers to see if they can break their security on their systems and test the weaknesses. It’s doing what I do best but legally. Then I could use the money to expand and improve my bug habitats and maybe even do breeding for endangered species to help them recover.”

Ok some favourite food? 

"Sour gummy worms totally are the best. It always makes people do a double take if they look more realistic too hahaha. I guess there's also the simps stew too that always hits right especially during the rainy season. I have a slow cooker in my room to make it every now and then. I sometimes will make a huge batch for the dorm when people need a bit of a pick me up!"

Least favourite food? 

"Urgh coffee it's so bitter….how can people drink it? I added like fifthteen sugars and milk and it still tasted nasty…I'll pass thanks there's other ways to get caffeine!"

Who would you bring to a deserted island? And the person can not be someone from your dorm! 

"You knew Ortho would have been the easiest pick…well I guess it's still not a hard question to answer. Kalen. With his unique magic I'm sure he will do all the heavy lifting while I sit back and wait for rescue..maybe even see what insects live on this island. And Kalen is at least tolerable to be stuck with and worse case there's plenty of muscle if food sources become short kek /jk!"

Who would you pick for a sibling-

"Orth-"

But it can't be someone from your own dorm!?!

" ….."

"……"

*turning bashful* 

"…..Lilia or Vil..."

And why??

"Well…Lilia seems to see my bugs as cute too and wouldn't it be funny to be taller than the older brother so there's that too and I could only imagine the cool prank team ups we could have!"

"As for Vil Jinx is always saying good things about Vil and it…sounds nice to have a sibling who would look out for you and care about your well being…Reda never really cared about looking out for me growing up…there was many times I needed him and he wasn't interested in being there….oi forget I said that!!"

Jeez alright…

A dorm other than Ignihyde? 

"Hmm can I pick Ramshackle? Hehe the ran down house is perfect for wild certain wild bugs I would love to have a even bigger room to house my collection in and it's quiet not filled with many people so peaceful…though…would the internet be decent…might need to speak to Idia about installing fibre optic if I was to move though I guess if Ramshakle doesn't count Diasomnia seems alright. It is not lively like the other dorms or stuffy so I could keep to myself easily there…and Ember is there too so we can play games in the evenings. I guess green is also more my colour then blue...." Ready for your gift of good fortune? "I wouldn't call it good fortune.....How about we just give it to the bugs....a little treat." Hold still! [Whoosh!]

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

hey so i'm hoping to get some writing advice about creative burnout? like i seem to write in fits and spurts. some months i can churn out a oneshot or chapter everyday and some months i can do one (1) creative thing only. so i'm wondering how to prevent creative burnout and how to just create more smoothly <3 thank you!

Creative Burnout & How To Ward Against It

First, I’d like to preface this all by saying you’re definitely not alone. You probably already know this, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.

I know from personal experience that creative burnout can leave you feeling hopeless, detached from yourself—the kind of identity crisis no one needs in 2020. 

So buckle in, folks. It’s a dosy.

I. The Symptoms

Not to be the local WebMD page here, but signs of burnout can include:

Procrastination (more than usual)

Dreading writing and feeling stuck or overly perfectionistic when you try

Physical tiredness and/or irritability

Feeling like everything is monotonous

It’s more than just writer’s block. It’s a physical and emotional exhaustion response to something that goes deeper than a simple lack of inspiration. In my experience, and from a bit of research, I’ve found that what your brain is really looking for is dopamine.

Dopamine is essentially your brain’s chemical reward system for doing something interesting or exciting to you. As someone who is diagnosed with ADHD, I have chronically low levels of dopamine, so this is a constant struggle for me—but it is absolutely made worse by creative burnout.

II. The Problem

Studies have shown that the more we do A Thing the less that thing will give us dopamine (unless a component of the activity changes regularly). This is because eventually our brains desensitise to the stimuli provided by the activity, and subsequently, we become disengaged.

But it’s not necessarily The Thing (i.e. writing) that becomes boring. Actually, more than a few factors could be at play here, and the first step to finding a solution is to identify the problem.

1. ENVIRONMENT LACKS EXCITEMENT/CHANGE—

Sometimes, the monotony of everyday life can feed creative burnout. This becomes especially applicable in quarantine when you’re not leaving your house.

What we don’t realise is that even something as small as the variables of driving to and from work, or interacting with passing coworkers, gives us dopamine. So if you have the same routine every day that does not involve any added variables, your brain will begin staunching that dopamine supply.

2. EITHER TOO EASY OR TOO CHALLENGING—

In 1975, Hungarian-American psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, coined the term “flow”, which refers to a heightened state of creativity and concentration on an activity. Csikszentmihalyi posited that if your skill level is equal to the level of challenge in any given activity, you will experience this state of flow.

The chart below is taken from Csikszentmihalyi’s own study on the subject of flow and motivation. It examines “your skill level” on the x axis in relation to the “challenge level” on the y axis.

Essentially:

Too much challenge + not enough skill = anxiety, worry (which might lead to procrastination and perfectionism)

Too much skill + not enough challenge = boredom, apathy (which might lead to monotony, irritability, and other depression-like symptoms)

Skill level = Challenge level = Flow

3. NOT ENOUGH “ACTIVE” STIMULATION—

When it comes to dopamine seeking, there is a distinct difference between active and passive stimulation in the brain.

Active stimulation is any form of activity that you have to actively engage in. For instance; exercising, doing a crossword puzzle, or reading a book. These kinds of activities not only give you dopamine, they also facilitate critical thinking and problem solving thought processes, which act as catalysts for creativity.

Passive stimulation, on the other hand, comes in the form of television, social media, and YouTube. It’s anything you can consume without having to actively engage. Passive stimulation will indeed give your brain dopamine, however, it won’t activate your creativity.

The problem also lies in the speed at which you receive the dopamine from passive activities. Passive stimulation is so easy to access that the more you consume, the harder it becomes to pick up active stimulation. Your brain expects a hit of dopamine just by picking up a phone or turning on the TV—it becomes addicted to the quick fix of a Netflix binge.

III. The Solutions

Based on the problems mentioned above, I am going to list a few solutions. Keeping in mind that not every solution will work for everyone, these can act as both preventative measures and remedies for someone who is currently burned out.

1. CHANGE UP YOUR ENVIRONMENT/ROUTINE—

Aim to do at least one thing per day that will add “variables” to the monotony. This can be as simple as going on a long walk, dressing up in that bold outfit you always wanted to wear to the office but never did, or sitting at a different workspace in your home.

Anything you can do that’s simple, but might provide an extra variable to your day to spice things up. Note: this shouldn’t be the same thing every day.

2. CHALLENGE YOURSELF MORE—

If you find yourself bored by your work, try challenging yourself more. This could mean setting goals for yourself that go a bit beyond what you’ve been doing. 

For example, if you’ve been writing 500 words per day, see if you can beat your own word count every day for the next week. If you’ve been writing mainly fluff pieces, switch it up and do an angst piece. See if you can write a book in a month, or start a blog where you don’t write fiction at all!

Anything you can do to add a little kick to your workload. Note: Beware of challenging yourself too much! This can lead straight back into burnout.

3. CHALLENGE YOURSELF LESS—

If you’re on the flip side of that coin, and find that you are anxious, procrastinating, and perfectionistic when it comes to writing, fret not. Just because you’re experiencing any of these things, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of doing the job with your skillset.

It just means your perception of the job needs to be shifted.

Procrastination, at its heart, is a fear of failure, which results in actively avoiding the negative emotions associated with the task that causes this fear. Perfectionism is a type of procrastination that is a combination of a fear of failure and a fear of success (or, more accurately, other’s critiques of your success) all at once.

Neither have anything to do with your actual skillset, but they have everything to do with your perception of your skillset. Obviously, this is a harder thing to fix, as it has to do with deeply ingrained levels of self-esteem.

What I can offer you is a tactic to trick your mind into thinking you’re capable.

If you have a task, big or small, and you are feeling overwhelmed by it (like you might go curl up in bed and scroll Tumblr), immediately break that task up into smaller tasks. Keep breaking up the smaller tasks until you have the smallest possible part of the bigger task without doing nothing.

Then do that smallest possible thing.

If your goal is to write a 2000 word one shot, a small part of that task is writing half of it. An even smaller part of that task is breaking the one shot up into “scenes” and writing one scene. For instance:

Jude wakes up to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a fever.

She tries to go to work, but Cardan, being the mother hen that he is, threatens to never make her another grilled cheese sandwich (her favourite food) ever again if she doesn’t stay home.

Jude agrees begrudgingly, and Cardan sits her down in front of the TV with a bottle of Gatorade. He leaves to go get medicine from the store.

When Cardan comes back, Jude is worse than before. He makes her soup and saltine crackers and spoon feeds her.

She complains the whole time and, in her feverish state, threatens to never buy him another bottle of wine (his favourite food) ever again if he doesn’t let her feed herself.

Each bullet point represents one “scene” of about 200-400 words each. Obviously, there will be more details that you work out as you write. But with these five smaller scenes, your goal is no longer writing the 2000 word one shot. Your goal is writing the first of the five scenes.

If you complete the smallest possible task, you can stop, and you’ll still feel like you’ve accomplished something because you can cross off that task from your list. But chances are, by the time you cross off one task, you may have inspiration enough to keep going.

4. ENGAGE IN ACTIVE STIMULATION—

Since active stimulation has been proven to turn on the creative “tap”, try incorporating more of these activities into your daily routine:

Exercise: As the resident couch potato, I hate to say that exercising is good for creativity, but it is. Even if it’s just going on a short walk, so long as you’re moving.

Reading: Sometimes you have plenty of ideas, but no words to fit those ideas. Fill your well of words by carving out an hour or two each day for reading a good book.

The Creative Process: In the writing world, the creative process is a process of about 20-30 minutes that the writer partakes in every day before they start writing. This process should be creative, but also have nothing to do with writing. You can try colouring in a colouring book, painting, organising a page in your bullet journal. Anything that is creative but does not make you think about everything you have to do that day. Think of it as creative meditation.

Listen to music: Having APD, I personally can’t listen to music while I write. However, studies have shown that if you listen to at least ten songs per day, it will significantly benefit your dopamine levels and overall mood. If you’re like me and prefer to work in silence, maybe stick on a couple songs during your creative process. If you can manage music and writing together, get out those headphones!

5. KEEP A REGULAR SCHEDULE—

I know this is the most cliche point in the book, but it’s valid. This doesn’t mean do the same thing at the same time every day over and over, because ultimately we’re looking to avoid monotony. 

But having pillars of structure to bolster the excitement can definitely work to keep you from slipping into burnout. Going to sleep, waking up, and having your meals at relatively the same time every day are good examples of this. 

Feel free to change up the things you do between breakfast and lunch, but make sure you have those pillars of consistency so your brain knows that a break is on the horizon and doesn’t get tired.

6. PACE YOURSELF—

This is particularly difficult for those of us who are coming out of a creative burnout, but I urge you to pay special attention to this one. If we are suddenly hit by inspiration and the writing is flowing and flowing and flowing, eventually we will hit the point of highest dopamine capacity for writing.

Not putting a check on the flood of inspiration coming out of a creative burnout, I’d argue, is actually a guarantee that many of us will experience burnout all over again. It becomes this vicious cycle in which we are trapped.

While it feels great to write non-stop and receive immediate validation for that work, try to limit yourself to how much you’re writing and how immediately you post your writing (if you plan on posting it).

Whenever I finish a one shot or a chapter of something, I like to allow at least one day for editing before I post. This timeframe is important, because it acts as a buffer of rest between writing marathons. 

You can take however long you need for the editing process, but definitely make sure you have a set amount of time in place. Otherwise, your brain might not have enough time to come down from what is essentially a writing high, and you will always need to reach greater heights in order to achieve that same level of dopamine.

~~~~

Overall, the most important things to take away from all of this are: 

Change up your environment

Keep your brain actively stimulated 

Have pillars of structure between which you can run about chaotically to your heart’s content

PACE YOURSELF!

Hope this helped. Happy writing!

-Em 🖤🗡

Writing Tip Masterlist

Fic Masterlist

Celebrate 2K with me!

[ficklewish]

Dance the Night Away

Diluc x reader

Genre: fluff

WC: 1.6K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, not proofread

a/n: dance the night away by twice came on while I was thinking of a title so that happened 🕴 diluc might be ooc here, I apologize for that ;;

You hated these formal events. Being forced into an elegant yet uncomfortable outfit and having to be all chummy with random snobby nobles made you want to hurl, especially the overconfident noble men who seemed to not know what personal space was.

You were currently leaning against a pillar, away from the main crowd of the event with a non alcoholic drink in hand. Noble men and women spoke amongst themselves, high pitched laughs and obnoxious chuckles sounding throughout the venue in attempts to win over someone for business. You wanted to go home, but never acted on it as your mother would flip her shit if she found out you had left instead of coming home with a stuck up rich person, ready to marry you so your family could gain more power and money.

You sneered at the thought, hating that your mother only thought of you as a possible bank. Scanning the crowd, all you saw was old men with large beer bellies and women with a little too much lipstick, and you had to clamp your mouth shut to keep from letting a loud groan leave your lips. Taking another sip from your drink of choice, you decide to head towards one of the balconies away from the crowd before a flash of bright red comes into your peripheral.

That's where you first saw him, Diluc Ragnvindr. One of, if not the most chased after man in all of Mondstadt. You couldn't deny that the chatter from gossiping girls on the main street about him had intrigued you a bit, wondering what the man acted like to have everyone want to be married to him. From what you could see, Diluc was an attractive man, and from the way both old and young women swarmed him the second he stepped foot on the main floor, everyone seemed to think that way as well. You almost felt bad for the wine owner, seeing that his personal bubble had been popped by the women trying their best to grab his attention. Almost.

From personal experience, in your mind, all noblemen were the same. Faking their smiles, using their charms and looks to take advantage of people desperate to climb up the social ladder, and once they had gotten what they wanted, they would drop them like old toys in favour for new ones. You experienced it first hand thanks to your father, who used your mother for a better reputation and dropped her the moment someone better came along. Due to this, you despised them all, no matter how nice they seemed in the public eye. The same goes for Diluc, as you looked at him with mild disgust, deciding not to wonder about what he would do to some poor noble. Taking one last look at the man, you make a beeline for a balcony farthest away from the crowd.

Breathing in the cold night air, you sigh, grateful to have been able to escape from the stuffy room, the smell of alcohol was becoming too much. You swirl your drink in your hand, looking over the city of freedom with a bored look. Placing your glass on the railing, you tense at the sound of footsteps nearing your area, praying to Barbatos that whoever was heading your way would leave you be. The anemo archon however, had other things planned for you, as the culprit of your anxiety stands a good distance away from you, heaving a loud sigh which sounded close to a groan of tiredness. Peeking through your peripheral view, you almost choked on your spit when you realized that it was Diluc who stood near you. Still looking at him from the corner of your eye, he looked irritated and tense, most likely from the mob of attention seeking women. It hadn't seemed like he even realized that you were on the balcony, too caught up in trying to relax.

You awkwardly cough to announce your presence, and Diluc snaps his head towards the sound, visibly tensing a bit, however his face was blank, likely trying to hide his surprise. "My apologies, I didn't notice anyone was here." You shake your head, hoping to calm his nerves a bit. "It's alright, no need to apologize." Diluc's shoulders drop a bit, some tension leaving his body, but not entirely. He turns toward the railing, leaning against it. "If you don't mind, I would like to ask for your reasoning in being here. I don't recognize you." You still for a moment, not wanting to be vulnerable in his presence, and he seems to take notice. "That is…if you feel comfortable sharing, I do not want to make you uncomfortable." Pondering his question, you decide to tell him the truth. It's like your disgust for him that was present a while ago had vanished instantly, as the aura around Diluc felt safe and comforting, like he was a friend you've always known.

You both had a nice conversation with each other, talking about the wine industry or taking jabs at the snotty nobles in the gala behind you. From what you could gather, Diluc hated the nobles just as much as you did, didn't like alcohol which was ironic since he owned the Dawn Winery, and had an adoptive brother named Kaeya who was currently drinking the night away, or so he told you. From behind, you hear the orchestra prepare to play a slow piece, intended to have the guests have a dance. Deciding that it was time for you to head home, you only manage to take one step before Diluc stops you with a hand on your wrist. "Forgive me if I'm being too bold, but would you like to have a dance with me?" You feel your face burn, and give a slow nod to him. A tiny smile blooms on his lips, and his hand moves from your wrist to gently hold onto your hand, guiding you to the floor to dance with him.

When walking over to the floor, you notice the nobles have started whispering about who you were and why were you with Diluc. Most of the women sent nasty glares, while some were giggling to others. You did your best to ignore them, keeping your head held high as Diluc takes you to the center of the floor. At the center, he turns to you, still holding your hand as he begins to look bashful. "Are you ready?" You nod once more, giving a reassuring squeeze to his hand as he brings you closer to him, placing his free arm gently around your midsection while the other raises your held hands up a bit. You place your unoccupied hand on his chest before glancing up at him. From this position, you really take in Diluc's features.

He is taller than what you saw from the comfortable distance you had on the balcony. His eyes a shining ruby red, which holds a sort of gentleness in them which is directed at you. His body exudes warmth, and you gladly accept it. The orchestra plays their piece, and people begin dancing with each other slowly, but you only focus on Diluc, and on not stepping on his toes. You look down at your feet, taking extra precaution to not embarrass yourself in front of the nobles, and in front of Diluc. "Eyes up here, trust me in guiding you." You quickly look back up into his eyes, and a slight smirk forms on his lips. "Are you nervous because of what they said while on our way here?" You scoff, looking around briefly before looking back at him. "Of course not, I'd rather drink wine than be nervous in front of them." He chuckles at your answer, swinging you around a bit and bringing you closer to him. His cologne invades your senses, and you breathe it all in.

"To be honest, I don't even have to be here, but I admit that watching overconfident nobles trip over their own feet from being too drunk when trying to leave does make up for the boredom of these events." You snicker, images of one of them rolling down some steps flashing in your mind. "Who knew that Master Diluc could have good humor?" He rolls his eyes at the title, the arm around your waist tightening slightly. "I have humor, thank you very much." A hearty laugh escapes you, and Diluc smiles, one bigger than what you had seen at first.

The song ends, and you become a bit saddened at the thought of having to leave. You had become slightly attached to Diluc throughout the night, and having to leave with the possibility of never seeing him again had a prick of pain shoot through your chest. Diluc gently drags you away from the floor to a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes of the nobles. Once in private, he raises your hand to his lips, giving a kiss to your knuckles before looking up at you through his lashes. "It was a pleasure dancing with you Y/N. Perhaps you'd grant me some more time to get to know you. How does dinner at the winery tomorrow sound? I'll pick you up from the gates of the city." He gives you no chance to refuse, not that you would anyway. You nod, giving him a lovestruck smile as he does the same back. "It would be a pleasure, Diluc. I can't wait." He chuckles, giving your knuckles another kiss as he stares into your eyes with a look of adoration. "Neither can I, love."

[whovianwholikesgirls]

Top 5 REM songs

Top 5 Stranger Things moments (in the show, not your au 😂)

Top 5 Lyrics (ok I know this is cruel so you can just pick 5 you like rn)

Top 5 Favorite Things About Yourself 😘

Top Five REM Songs:

Fuck they’re mostly going to be from murmur aren’t they? Yep!!!

Perfect Circle

Moral Kiosk (for the riff and the hook honestly)

Laughing

Try not to breathe

Turn you inside out

Top 5 ST moments:

Dustin and Suzie’s never ending story moment. Easily my favorite scene

When Joyce is comforting El in s1 while she’s in the sensory deprivation tank? Rip my heart out of my fucking chest and my inner child said, “Joyce is our mom now”

In S2:

Nancy: you don’t have to do this you know?

Jonathan: stop saying that

It just reminds me of us and it makes me happy🥰Also it’s just a nice reminder that your people will be there for you always and you’re never a burden (which is like a daily affirmation I need at this point.) Damn, when did this get so dark? Fuck ableism. Moving on…..

Joyce and Hop getting Murried will never not make me laugh

At the beginning of S2 when Joyce and Jonathan are looking for Will like, “shit it happened again” and when Joyce finds Will in the bathroom and asks what he’s doing he’s just like, “peeing?!?!?” Iconic

Top five lyrics right now:

“Emotion-bound

Martyed

Misconstrued” Laughing, REM

“It's these little things, they can pull you under

Live your life filled with joy and wonder

I always knew this altogether thunder

Was lost in our little lives

Oh, but sweetness follows

Oh, but sweetness follows” Sweetness Follows, REM

This one is cheating a little but it’s my fav song rn now I’m giving three examples counting as one:

“And if you never saved me from boredom

I could've gone on as I was

But, Lord, you made me feel important

And then you tried to erase us

Oh, oh

You're a crisis of my faith”

“And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts

Memories feel like weapons”

“If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?

Years of tearing down our banners, you and I

Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts

Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first”

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve, Taylor Swift

“I asked my friends

Am I a good man?” Tayls, First Cure (I Can’t Hide)

Istg it’s not just because it’s your lyric and I’m not being a kiss ass but:

”Your mind is on fire but so is the world

And you want to escape but where on Earth could you go?

Every single day is some paradoxical mind-numbing mashup of boring and terrible”

Road Ahead, Jay Van Raalte (my fav human🥰)

Top five things that I like about myself

My ability to love people and things. It’s very deep and vast and loyal and in the past has def been given to the wrong people but we’re working on it

My ability to make my inner child feel safe and heard. We’re still working on the internalized ableism stuff for adult me but as far as making sure that little me is safe and her feelings and pain are heard and vailed? Ooff it’s been a long 4+ year journey with an awesome therapist but as a kid who was constantly physically violated by being forced to leave home where it was safe to go stay with her emotionally and physically abusive father for months out of the year, it’s nice that she finally has an adult who puts her needs first

When I have an idea I’ll cling to it until it becomes a thing. (Getting into my dream school for undergrad, saving up for Taylor bc I’ve wanted to see her for years and my parents weren’t going to make it a thing when I was a teenager either bc of money or usually when my mom and I would go to a concert it had to be someone we both liked so it was always Rob Thomas/Matchbox so instead I’m doing it myself, hopefully moving to Seattle etc)

I love my life long love for reading. It’s something that’s really cool and I love that it has always stuck with me

My appreciation for simple things (books, tea, rain, new music, deep pressure therapy, being held. No I did not just say that last one bc you asked😉These are just the simplest things in the word but they make me the happiest)