#im tired so tired i wish i could have time and energy to draw

[silverxcristal]

lord have mercy on me, everything i love is discontinued and my non-diagnosticated autistic spectrum ass cant deal with changes on my routine

[ganondoodle]

a wild assortement of comic wip screenshots and a random doodle that i posted to twitter but not here

(this doodle here is of Raal (aka demise before he became a deity) but whatever happens here isnt anything 'canon', i just randomly doodled him to try a loosen up my painting style bc when i work on the comic i tend to concentrate too much of rendering it perfectly and i dont like that)

[vonlycsnn]

✧ — PICTURE PERFECT

~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.

SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.

- cw/tw: none.

- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.

Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work. 

You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.

Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.

Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?

—

"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"Just give them a call. Trust me."

—

And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected. 

You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one. 

Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means. 

Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.

Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.

And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.

To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.

As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.

—

"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.

—

Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.

"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.

But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.

Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.

But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.

Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.

You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.

"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"

You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.

After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.

—

Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.

You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.

"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.

"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.

"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.

You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.

After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.

Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.

"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."

The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.

"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.

There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.

"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."

[bbyquokka]

fizzy pop

– yn has a habit of bottling up their emotions, chan comforts them & explains the importance of communicating about feelings/emotions.

pairing | bang chan x gender neutral reader

genre | angst w comfort – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship, mental health (low moods, low/no motivation, lose of interest in hobbies/things), pet names.

words | 2k ~ ( 2,042 )

notes | idk why but i've been putting off on posting this for months, maybe bc im nervous 🤔 don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

it's just another day. another day of just being there. another day of feeling like you have no purpose in life except to please others. another day of wondering “what is the purpose of me being here?” you fake smiles, say you're "ok" because saying how you actually feel is exhausting.

aside from it feeling exhausting, you also don't want to draw attention to yourself and when you do speak, you feel stupid for doing so, so you keep it all in, bottle it up until it's too much for you to handle. some days you wonder why you even bother to get out off bed.

is it because of the birds you hear outside? the sun's heat that you want to feel on your skin? could it be the laughter and chitter chatter of others? or maybe you want to hear the rain on the leaves–who knows. all you know is that everyday is the same and it's tiring.

the days merge into one. what day is it even? monday? tuesday? oh wait, it's saturday morning. time doesn't exist anymore. in your mind you see no point in getting up out of bed because again, what's the point? 

so why is it that your boyfriend is gently shaking you, asking, no, begging you to get up.

“darlin'. please get up.” chan whispers as he gently shakes you by the shoulders. you sigh deeply, a tired sigh that causes chan to swallow and his suspicions to come to light.

you pull the duvet over your head, body curled in a small and fragile ball. the curtains are still drawn providing darkness despite the morning rays that wish to peak inside. 

chan has been up since the crack of dawn. he has showered, made breakfast and managed to get dressed. he gave you some extra time to sleep in because he knows you're not a morning person but when the number nine on his watch turned to twelve and you're still not up and out, does he grow concerned.

he's had his suspicions for a while. he's noticed how defeated you sound. how there is little to no energy in the words you speak. he's tried everything to cheer you up, thinking, hoping you were just having an off day. but that off day turned into an off week which slowly, but surely, turned into an off month.

you lost your passion for being creative, lost the will to make anything which you despise. being creative is one of the many pleasures you have in life, to be able to make something and share your creations with others is exhilarating but when you feel like this, your mood turns bitter and cold towards everything you do which results in you resenting everything you create.

you lost the energy to speak to people. to pick up the phone and just talk. you're not deliberately ignoring nor trying to be difficult but keeping conversations flowing is just too hard right now and when you think they're giving you the same energy back do you feel so guilty. 

what have i done to deserve this? why am i forced to feel like this. you find yourself questioning everything late at night. your head loud as soon as it hits the pillow and no amount of music you blast down your ears can silence those thoughts.

everything is so exhausting. everything is the same. you just want to disappear whether that be for a few days or forever, you're not quite sure, but certain people around you wont allow that to happen. they are keeping you afloat, head above water. you desperately and silently wish they never let you go, no matter how hard you fight and push them away.

“baby, please.” chan's words dripped with desperation. his knees on the bed behind you as he kneels causing the mattress to dip. his hands on your shoulders gently as his eyes bore into the duvet, burning holes into it until he is burning holes into you. tears threaten to spill down his soft cheeks as he becomes increasingly worried for you.

“chan..“ you whisper, your words shaking. “please.. leave me alone.” 

he swallows. those three last words he hates to hear. now he is left in a difficult position. should he do as you say and leave you? leave you to fester and rot in your own thoughts and feelings. watch you melt into the mattress and become nothing but a lifeless shell. or should he force himself, force you to acknowledge him. show you, tell you that's it's going to be ok–even if you don't believe him in the beginning.

but this is chan and you know more than anyone how stubborn chan can be.

“lets go take a shower yn, together! and maybe we can go out and get lunch at that café you love so much?”

silence. 

“or how about we go to that art shop! pick up those water colours you've been eyeing up for months?”

silence.

“ok well, what about some new cloth–”

“chan please!” you snap, causing him to jump. “what part of leave me alone don't you understand?!”

you don't mean to sound harsh and you hope chan doesn't take it to heart. the last thing you want is to hurt the one person you adore so much. luckily, chan knows you don't mean it but it doesn't hurt him any less.

“all of it.” he softly speaks. you feel the weight being lifted up off the mattress and footsteps against the wood flooring before the bedroom door squeaks open at the hinges.

your heart breaks. hot angry tears finally being set free and rolling down the bridge of your nose and cheeks, soaking into the material of your pillow. you sob, curling up into a ball even more as your heart aches in your chest. you grip onto the pillow as you silently cry out for chan, thinking he has completely left you alone.

but you did ask for it so why do you feel so guilty?

the duvet gets pulled back from you, the cold air hitting your hot and sweaty skin. the mattress dips once again as an arm snakes over your midriff. chest being pressed against your back as chan spoons you.

“don't cry, darlin'. i'm here, your channie is here.” his soft words provide you with a sense of comfort and an indescribable feeling of warmth as well as relief. his hand strokes your soft stomach, his lips kissing your neck so tenderly you worry that he isn't really there. 

“c-chan…” you sob through your words as a way of confirmation. you can't breathe, the pain of everything that's built up over the past months is making it impossible for you to breathe. your mind fogs over as your chest heaves up and down.

you struggle to take breaths as tears stream down your face. your pillow becomes soaked with your tears. chan strokes your unwashed hair gently, hushing you and singing softly to help ground you.

“sh sh sh. you're ok, you're safe.” he whispers.

“sorry! i'm sorry!” you repeat over and over again in your fits of tears. chan continues to hush you, noticing that it's not working so he gently rolls you over to face him and pulls you into his naked chest. 

the warmth and softness of his skin calms you down in an instant. his natural scent hugs your nostrils and sinks into your heart, soothing your heartbeat as well as your mind. you grip onto him, desperately trying to cling onto something before resulting in wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

he gives you a bear hug. arms around your shoulders gently, fingers raking and massaging your scalp. his chest wet with tears as he continues to hush you through your episode.

there isn't much he can do when you're crying like this except wait. wait for it to pass–and it does, fifteen minutes later.

“better?” he gently asks. you peer up at him to notice that his own cheeks are wet with a few tears slowly falling.

“you're crying..” you whisper as you reach up and wipe the tears away. chan laughs softly before leaning into your touch. “why?”

“because it pains me to see you like this, my love.” that guilt comes back, settling in your stomach and wrapping itself around your heart, like black fog. you look down, tears falling from your lower lash line.

“sorry..” you mumble.

“hey.” chan unwraps his arms from you to gently lift up your head. “it hurts because i can't do anything about it. it hurts because i love you! seeing you in so much pain is rough darling. and it's not physical pain either, it's not like i can put a band aid on your wound.”

“i'm sorry i'm like this, chan. sorry i'm so difficult and such a disappointment.”

“oi.” his tone of voice turns stern which causes you to look up at him. his brows furrowed together as he reaches and strokes your cheek. “you're not a disappointment or difficult baby. it's ok to feel like this, to have off days and feel like nothing is right, however, you have to come to me when you feel like this! or if you can't come to me, talk to a friend.”

“but i hate talking about my feelings, chan.. i feel like a burden and that it just bores people and when i do confined in people, it feels like i don't get the comfort i expect to get so i'm left thinking if it's worth it and if i just expect too much from people.”

“what have i told you about bottling things up, mhm?”

“that it's just going to keep building and building until i explode.” you mumble to which chan hums and nods too

“imagine you're a bottle of fizzy pop. your body is the bottle, your feelings are the fizzy liquid. what happens when you shake a bottle of fizzy pop?”

“it bubbles and explodes, creating a huge mess.”

“and what happens when you bottle your feelings up?”

“i get shaken up by the smallest of things, which causes me to bubble and explode..”

“mhm. you have to remember, my darling, that how you feel is valid. your feelings are valid. you might seem like it's something so small or stupid, but that something small could build and build and build.”

“so i should come to you whenever i feel negative?”

“yes.”

“even if i'm frustrated at a piece of work? even if i can't get a recipe right and it annoys me?”

“yes.”

“but that is so small and not as important..”

“yn, if it's bothering you then it's big. if it's bothering you, it's important to me. if you feel angry, upset, energy less, i beg that you come to me or to a friend! it's important that we voice these things, let it be known because you'll feel better.” he tucks your hair behind your ear gently before you nuzzle into his chest, thinking about what he's saying.

he is correct. he always is and that's the thing that sometimes bothers you, but in a good way! it just means that you can't hide anything from chan, whether it's good or bad and when you are feeling down, chan is always there to pick you back up and dust you off, providing you with love and comfort.

“shall we go shower together to start the day?”

“isnt it a bit late for that? besides, hasn't your day already started?” you mumble against his chest.

“it's never too late to start the day and besides, i don't mind ‘restarting’ my day if it means i get to do it with you.” he kisses the top of your head gently, stroking your back as you tangle your legs with his.

“soon.”

“soon?” he questions.

“i just want to spend some more minutes with you..”

“we can spend as many minutes together as you like, my darling. as long as you're happy and content.”

“i'm always happy and content with you, chan. you're my safe space.”

“and i hope i continue to be and provide you with that safe space, yn.”

[nahalism]

Hi!!

From what i understand you are a person who consistently throughout the years is not getting enough sleep. I am similar. I wonder what are your ways of coping with it? Do you take meds sometimes, do you try to work cleaner sleeping routine and after these nights when you get no rest how do you power through the day after and stay functional?

wishinng you calm days (and nights)

heyy <3

im laughing but im actually crying cause this ask is too real. honestly im not coping. its very normal for me and so for better and for worse i dont really notice the difference. im sure if i miraculously started getting good sleep id say different, but as that hasnt happened yet 🤷🏽‍♀️. — i dont take meds cause ive been frightened off of taking sleeping meds although i took someone elses phenegerm prescription when i had a bad bout of anxiety (that caused physical pain and coincided with an inability to sleep at all) and they were great but made me super drowsy the next day. if my sleep issues ever affected me in that same way again i wouldnt hesitate to get my own prescription but rn im functional so im just doing my in other areas and riding the wave

in terms of sleep routines, ive tried a lot of things but im yet to find the thing that works for me. falling asleep feels very out of my power at times, so i try to focus on waking up early or just have good productivity patterns for when i am awake. people have suggested that those alongside working out will help me get tired enough to fall asleep earlier. that hasnt happened yet. for whatever reason when i try to sleep before i get to the stage of passing out i experience racing thoughts, paralysis or very disturbing intrusive thoughts/anxiety (: — that said, when ive tried to sit with those uncomfortable moments i have intense break throughs. unfortunately the break thoughs lead to me having more energy / writing / journalling / drawing and not to me feeling tired.

so yeah unfortunately i dont know what to tell you. maybe its something i need to revisit or sit with and embrace but honestly it can be fatiguing to constantly find something to work on, esp since im already working on so much as it is. so rn im just embracing being a night owl and sleeping when i get sleep (::((:((:(:: if u have any advice pls send help xx wish i could have been more helpful, wishing you peace and sweet dreams some time soon 💕

[viaetor]

exhaustion

im sorry for throwing this here in the first place. I generally don't post vents on tumblr dot com, but I've been under so much stress lately and I just. don't have anywhere I can dump things yknow?? i don't wanna feel like a burden to my friends or as if its their responsibility.

but I've been so, so exhausted lately. but it's so hard to just *stop* or *take a break*.

currently, im working 3 part-time jobs, participating in 4 uni projects, writing my thesis, finishing up my government-funded research, completing translations, on top of having my regular classes. not to mention more work and projects ive been "invited" to accept that are still starting up and my upcoming mandatory internship. my parents have been entrusting me with more and more responsibilities regarding their physical health as seniors. but i also need to keep an eye out so that my drug addict sister doesn't do anything stupid and gets thrown out of the house again. I'm also worried about another sister of mine.

Lately i tried to distract myself by involving myself more with my friends. I've helped a few friends out with their own stuff (moving, writing, job interviews, emotional support) and ive been reconnecting with long past friendships, which is pretty neat. and it was working for a while, but im starting to get drained from even the simplest interactions.

now every time I look at my phone or get out of my room, people are calling me to ask to do stuff for them. I'm so numb to it all, I just do it automatically even when my body is sore and my brain is dead.

the worst part is that I can't quit anything. there are no vacations waiting for me, and no way I can lessen my workload more than I already have. I'm numb to it all, it's exhausting, but I feel so ashamed for even feeling tired. I feel like I have no right to feel that. I'm so used to being "reliable" and "efficient" to others that I'm not sure if I know how to Not be what people expect of me.

Ive been trying not to smoke or stress-eat and instead just hit the gym to get rid of the stress and anxiety, but even that hasn't been enough.

I want to write. I want to draw. I wanna learn languages. I wanna study. I wanna chat. But I just don't have the energy to do the things that make me feel happy and healthy. even if I'm ironically already doing some of them. I feel like an ungrateful brat. especially since I'm surrounded by so many awesome people.

I'm really lucky to have you all. I love getting your messages, seeing your posts, writing with you. I'm so happy with how I've been developing bonds with people here. thank you so much for investing in me! i really do cherish and appreciate it. I just want to apologise for seeming so distant and emotionally unavailable, not to mention how long i take to reply sometimes. to those that have been nothing but kind and patient to me, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope I can make it up to you!

I'm just really, really tired at the moment, and I'm not sure how to juggle through everything in my life right now. so I'm really sorry.

I wish I had dottore's skills so I could make clones of myself ngl. that'd be pretty neat

[thestarsofpines]

okay depression time. rant and possibly triggering stuff ahead

i see all this amazing art of hijack and vld and all i think of is how i feel my art has stagnated over the years, especially after graduation from college. i try hard to turn that jealousy into inspiration but fuck it’s hard. especially seeing how young some of these amazing artists are and it just makes me feel…like ive missed my time, i guess. im so proud of these artists, but jealousy is a bitch and i wish i could fully eradicate it from my being

jealousy makes me feel gross.

i know i need to just, keep drawing but it’s hard too, i guess i’m in an art block because very few of my sketches i even want to try and finish. and those that i do i don’t like the end product, so it feels like a waste but i know it’s not!! i know it’s productive to keep drawing and practicing but…i don’t know. i don’t know what to do to make myself happy with my art. practice yes obviously but i feel like i want to draw in so many different ways and do different things and try stuff way above my skill level

i’m just tired, man. like, of life in general. job searching is hell, student loans start up soon and without a source of income outside of unemployment im so stressed about that. i’m switching doctors for my mental health stuff because i’m on six different meds and none are really helping enough to the point that i don’t want to not exist. like, i don’t actively want to kill myself, but i also don’t want to be here, existing as i am. and that scares me to admit, obviously. i’ve stopped cutting but i still scratch and hit myself when i get overwhelmed with emotion, and don’t even get me started on my perception of myself. i hate how much weight i’ve gained and how little i’m motivated to change my habits to combat it. i want to be healthy but i don’t have the energy to put in the work to make my lifestyle better.

this got way off topic and honestly made me upset but i guess it’s better than bottling it up. my dad is here for one more day before he flies back to ohio and part of me wants him to stay because he helps me keep on track with job searching and eating regular meals and not sleeping all morning. but i know he needs to go back home to my mom and that i need to be a damn adult and do this shit on my own. i’m 26 for fucks sake. but here i am back on tumblr like i was when i was 16.

…at least now i can drive. i got over that fear out of pure necessity by making myself move multiple states away for a job i wasn’t even in love with. so like, i know i can overcome shit, i don’t know how looking back to be honest. i feel like i need a kick like that again but i don’t think i’m mentally stable enough for that.

fuck this just made me feel worse. mostly. ugh.

[sunnisurrealism]

Hi Timmy,

im sorry for my brash previous post. i did not intend to direct the salty energy towards you, i guess towards the universe in general. the fact that the package with the first usb was not delivered was a tremendous blow to me today. i wouldn't say it was karma because i dont think you deserve this but it does seem like some sort of divine irony. when you were waiting around this was probably slowly occurring to you. literally what a fucking troll. i really hope the next one actually sends! i kept the tracking receipt this time.

im also sad today because the smoke from the forest fires might prevent us from going to Assinaboine. if we dont go i'll be hella disappointed. but its been multiple years now that i couldn't go because of the smoke... which only seems to be getting worse... .... this town Jasper in the northern rockies caught fire today. shit is getting more scary :( Alberta and BC is very susceptible to climate impacts.

i dont really know what else i have to say until the package arrives. i guess i thought the cake scene was a confirmation. in general we all faces problems being too hot to the gun, probably. gotta keep the long distance one way interesting somehow with some trolling. i think the Bad Ass Shitey Donk Shitlords sent the package back, only explanation to me.

anyways the most important part of the current package on the way is the new plot stuff. tbh tho i did already explain all the main points in a post a few days back, i just forgot the part about the flute from your spirit dad somehow after you see the snake and bull. therefore there really isnt anything new intellectually. i reread my meanest messages to you breaking down why it wasnt okay and how conditional things do make sense as an apology and to emphasize that i am truly really sorry :( it also includes the og notes / out take drawings of the TFBD (to be passed along to Grimes), some gifts for grimes, some geschenken for MB ^uwu^, and some gifts / a USB for elon. i know this is inconvenient for you to pass along gifts but tbh with the way it went down i knew i had to send you the notes and the usb i was planning on using for you was the one i used for elon but then i found an extra so tbh i just feel like i didnt have the capacity or money to send multiple packages so im kindly asking you to pass gifts along assuming you wont be up tight about it. i did include some voices notes on elon's USB just for him, but i included the one i originally recorded for him about Das Booble Zwei to catch him up on lore on your usb as well. if you are curious of the shit i said to him it's mostly me emphasizing that our strengths compliment one another, and the worst i said was that sometimes i have a hard time imagining timmy and i having sex together. that was like a month ago tho and i've been healing. so if you're curious that's the worst is said.

now that we are just waiting to see if the package sends idk what else i can do. i am really done and tired. im really happy to be in calgary where my mom can cook for me and i have a bathroom close to my bed. my relationship with my family is 100% good.

i dearly miss you, i dearly love the trailer so much and congratulations! i wish more than anything we could cuddle and kiss to heal from all this shit. hopefully *again* in the dreamworld.

*edit “why conditional things do not make sense” jesus*

klara

[skeletoninthemelonland]

another thing that i wanted to add.

it's more of a personal issue that i have, but i believe other artists went through as well.

sometimes i think that the way i choose to execute a certain creative task is wrong. that my animation process is flawed and inefficient, that the way i make music completely dismisses music theory (and its objectively bad), that the way i paint devalues the final result, and that the way i write and make stories isn't how some 'expert writers' would.

i think it has a lot to do with my lack of confidence, to the point that the only way i could make art was looking up to artists and copying their process of developing something, even if that meant dismissing my own ideas. i still do this sometimes (which, to some extent, is fine because i'm inspired by them)

i still put high expectations on my art, and if i do not have some sort of reassurance in the way i make it, i don't feel good about it. so yeah, you could guess what happened! i stopped drawing for myself for like, months.

my theory is that, subconsciously, i thought 'good art' was appreciated, got you compliments, could derive from an already popular media and took time and effort to be made. 'bad art' was forgotten, ignored, and sometimes shameful to look at. it was a very contradicting thought to have, considering i was supportive of this whole "express yourself" movement.

now this will sound corny (or even obvious), but the way i found to change it was to embrace the sentiment and to just, y'know, draw for myself. what came out is out there, on a different tumblr blog no one has found out about yet (and i wish to keep it that way, at least for now).

i'm proud of those pieces, because they're exactly what i wanted to make: 'ugly, bad, shameful, uninteresting, unconventional art.' if someone sees it? cool. if it remains unseen and hidden? even better.

i also started to look for different types of art than the ones i usually appreciate. i think this can be applied to writing. it's not about 'you never know when you'll like something until you go see it for yourself!'

it's about, idk, experiencing whatever emotion, think something, observe, make mental notes. you'll eventually realize that art is beyond how YOU feel about it, and rather, how the other felt. can you feel it too? you should ask yourself.

i believe this has to do with capitalism but im tired and i dont have the mental energy to write another paragraph. it's just fucking depressing, and i think u know why.

Sorry if this question is too much but do you have any writting tips you could share if its no problem : >

this ask is quite unexpected because i dont consider myself a good writer, and all i know is based on my own (both bad and good) experiences.

don't wait until a great idea pops up in your mind to start writing. simply do it, don't wait for it. just write down anything, randomly, even if it looks terrible and or horrendously boring. even if it makes u despise yourself afterwards. doing that will kind of "start the engines' in your brain, so you can work more efficiently.

brainstorming. god i fucking love brainstorming. just throw your ideas on the paper. u don't need to write full sentences - you can use keywords, and draw too. that way you have a wide range of options to use in your story.

don't be afraid to use ideas you've already seen in movies and shows before. nothing comes from nothing, and that applies to the art of writing (which is essentially different from plagiarism and copy). you don't need to think much about it, because these ideas come naturally, and you eventually start to realize what your inspirations were.

this changes from person to person, but you can either write for the public, or write for yourself. either way, you'll end up with bad and good results. depends a lot, but my personal choice is writing for myself (not what i WANT to read, but what i think i NEED to read).

when u feel like giving up, say "fuck this, i don't care anymore" out loud and go back to writing. curse at the word document/page all you want. trust me, it's better than giving up and checking social media for the next 3 hours. don't forget to take breaks, stretch your back and drink plenty of water.

last but not least: walk. i've had enough evidence that walking helps your brain organize ideas. you don't have to go for a walk outside (even though it's the preferable option), you can walk back and forth in your own room, and it works. experiment talking to yourself out loud and recording your voice.

[eggceereal]

ahHhhhhdjfjfj lonely rights..

[becca-e-barnes]

dark rough step father charles blackwood smut with a slapping and spit kink becca PLEASE do it for the whores i beg do it for the sluts your writing is literally perfect im so in love

Oh god okay because I LOVE the thought of step!dad Charles watching you jerk him off. He loves how you use both hands, he loves how your face lights up when his dick throbs and twitches and he adores the little squeal you let out when he cums without warning, often splashing that pretty face of yours.

But I think he’d be obsessed with how unsure you look when he tells you to spit on him. But you lean over and do it anyway because you’re nothing but a good girl for daddy and you know it (unless he’s in the kind of mood where he needs to blow off some steam of course, then you get a little bratty)

“Good girl baby, just like that. Get daddy nice’n sloppy. Daddy’s gonna fuck your cunt tonight, trust me, you’re gonna want to get it nice and wet for me.” He’s propped up on one elbow so he can watch every second. He’ll never get tired of how good you look when you’re all sweet and submissive but the way your eyes light up when he tells you he’s going to fuck you makes him even more excited because you enjoy losing your innocence just as much as he enjoys taking it.

He doesn’t wait much longer after that to start fucking you. It’s so intimate and downright filthy that you know you must be drenching his cock. “Fuck, look at you. When did you get so slutty, huh? Obsessed with your daddy’s big dick? Just can’t get enough.” You’re so blissed out with every thrust, you can only whimper. You’ve been holding back an orgasm for far too long. You don’t have the words to tell him how close you are so all your energy goes into trying to focus on not cumming without daddy’s permission.

“Did you hear me you little slut?” Charles grunts, slapping the side of your thigh to get your attention. You know your eyes are glassy and you truly don’t remember whatever he had just said. You shake your head no but that earns you two hard spanks to the thigh. “Use your fuckin’ words. You know better than that. Daddy wants to hear you speak up.”

“S-Sorry daddy.” You gasp, your body bouncing back and forth with each thrust and he knows he has to repeat himself because you truly caught nothing.

“You gone stupid honey? This body belongs to daddy. Only daddy can make you feel like this. No man’s gonna fuck you like I do. Love making your cunt feel special cause no one else will ever touch you like I can.” His teeth are gritted and if you were a little more focused on his face you’d be able to tell he’s trying as hard as he can not to cum with each thrust. He loves seeing you shake like that but at the same time, he doesn’t want it to end.

“Y-yes daddy. All yours.” You manage to babble before a hand lands on your cheek, not striking hard, just enough to draw your attention to Charles as he ruts into you.

“Open that mouth babygirl, prove you’re all mine.” He taunts and you do as he asks while his fingers grip your face gently. You do as you’re told, your lips parting, your tongue pressed flat and poking over your bottom lip and although you aren’t paying attention, you hear and feel Charles spitting into your mouth.

A hand lands on your chin, urging you to close your mouth and swallow and of course you do before the dam breaks, babbling to your daddy about how you’re going to cum. Of course, he just smirks. “I tell you when you’re going to cum, princess, not the other way ‘round. You better hold it or I promise you, I’ll make you cum on mommy’s bed so many times, you’ll wish you could stop.”

[ammerynth-moved]

wow uh. i really have been super lazy about posting art recently, havent i

it’s not like i havent been drawing, it’s just that it’s all been commission work and for obvious reasons i spend longer on that than i do on other stuff, bc i want it to be as good as possible. but the reason i am where i am with art today is bc i started posting it online. i’m busy with school and other things, but i’m going to try to post at least twice a week from now on. i feel sort of bad too that ive reblogged a few of those request posts recently but i havent actually done any of them yet - the reason i like them in the first place is bc they give me something relatively easy to draw! and i like doing requests, i know not everyone is able to afford commissions and i want to make people happy even if the only way i can do that is through my art!! unfortunately i can’t do every request i get and i also can’t guarantee the level of work i’ll put into a request - paid stuff always takes priority, but if i didn’t want to do requests i.. wouldn’t accept them at all fskjdhgk

there’s not really a point to this post i guess, just uh. kind of felt like i should say it properly, not just in the tags of something else.

[sugako]

sleepover

pairing: college!kuroo x gn!reader synopsis: you realize your feelings for kuroo after he takes you to a party and you have to look after him  warnings: alcohol use, lots of hand holding and some cuddling a/n: uhh did i make the reader a little too much like kenma...probably..this is really mostly just a bunch of fluffy mutual pining and bad writing

you couldn't believe he had dragged you here. well, dragged was a strong word. you had willingly agreed to come to this party because his normal party friends were busy and he thought it would be fun. the loud shitty music, swarm of sweaty bodies, and intermittent yelling was not for you though.

it wasn't all bad. it was kind of fun to watch kuroo in his element. he could chat with almost anyone and he seemed to know most people here. you admired how easily he could weave through the crowd. how at ease he looked in this unfamiliar apartment. you almost wished you could be more like that.

on the other hand, you were getting tired of the people and the noise. about three hours in, you got separated from your human security blanket. a little defeated and not nearly as drunk as everyone around you, you slumped against a corner and waited. and waited. it wasn't like he was hard to miss with his messy bed head that towered above most everyone. still, you hadn't spotted him once in nearly twenty minutes.

you really didn't want to be a drag, but you were tired and drained from all the energy around you.

to 🐔kuroo: hey i think im gonna head out im pretty tired

as soon as you shoved your phone into your back pocket it buzzed.

from 🐔kuroo: wait up meet u by the door!!1!

you typed with one hand as you slipped through the crowd. when you heard his rowdy cackle you knew he wasn't far away.

to 🐔kuroo: you don't have to leave now if you don't wanna im good to go home

from 🐔kuroo: nahh I'm already there anywayy I'm ready to go

you smiled lightly at your screen. while you hadn't been paying attention you feelings of admiration for the man had slowly morphed into infatuation. it crept up on you slowly. you hadn't realized all at once, but it was starting to make more sense now as you stared at the little screen.

"hey!!" he called over the heads of a group blocking the door.

you peeped up and waved, pushing your phone back into a pocket. he grabbed you by the elbow and practically threw you out the door. when you stumbled, he caught your hand and tutted obnoxiously.

"you are not 'good to go' alone. how much did you drink when i lost you?"

heat, not from the alcohol, seeped into your cheeks. you tried to pull your hand out of his iron grip, but it was impossible. not that you actually minded.

"only one," you huffed, "i think you're the one that needs help." you watched his roaming feet as you both shuffled down the street toward the bus stop.

"hmm, nah. i was worried for a bit when i lost you, were you okay?"

his fingers squeezed around yours. "i-uh, yeah, i was fine. i didn't really talk to anyone, but it wasn't bad. i know i'm kinda bad at parties, but did you have a good time?"

kuroo giggled and swung your arm with his as he leaned heavily against the bus station sign. in the middle of the night on this empty street, it felt almost like it could be an intimate moment between the two of you... if he wasn't sauced.

"a great time, only i wish i hadn't accidentally abandoned you like that. i know you didn't really want to go."

"no, no!" you said a little too fast. "well, i didn't mind it, i'm just not used to big crowds like that. or the music." you trailed off. "i had a pretty good time though. maybe except for babysitting you." you joked, lightly nudging him as the bus pulled up.

he kept his hand in yours even as you sat down in the empty space. it seemed like he was processing what you said and answered just a little too late.

"i am not the baby that needs to be babysat, baby."

"you're very drunk, tetsuro."

"maybe so..." he breathed out, leaning heavily against you.

your eyes fluttered from exhaustion, alcohol, and the heavy heating pack slumped against you. two stops later the bus had arrived at his place, but his hand was firmly laced with yours.

kuroo had been watching you closely as your eyes drooped. he looked down at where your warm hands were intertwined with his and he couldn't help the giddy feeling that courses through his body. maybe you were just being nice because he was drunk, he thought. still, it felt nice to just exist with you like this.

"hey," he jostled you a little rougher than intended. you startled out of your half sleep. "wanna spend the night?"

"mhmm..." you murmured, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as he dragged you off the bus. around the corner you stopped at a tiny convenience store for a few overnight toiletries like toothpaste and deodorant. it wasn’t the first time you had spent the night, but you were feeling a little flustered under his gaze tonight. 

when his hand left yours, you felt colder and a little incomplete. 

you were still half asleep, but you listened as best you could as kuroo blathered on about his favorite tea. when you made your way up to the counter, he dumped a pile of snacks along with your things.

as he was attempting to slur out something along the lines of an argument for him to pay, you were already handing the sleepy cashier your cash. thanking the worker, you moved with him to the exit and he slipped his hand back into yours.

you couldn't help the dumb smile plastered on your face even as he sloppily keyed into his place. this time it didn't feel so bad when his hand left yours. in a flash, he had thrown out some sweatpants and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed.

you quickly changed and headed for the couch where kuroo was already sprawled out, rifling through the snacks. 

“hey, movie?” he asked, glancing over at you as you settled in beside him. when your thighs brushed against one another neither of you made and move to part. you nodded and hummed, a little less tired now. while he clicked through dozens of titles, you reached for a small bag of chips on the low coffee table. “got those for you.” he mumbled before you could ask if you could have them. “you like those right?” 

“yeah...uh, yeah, i do.” you bit the inside of your cheek.

“this look good?” 

you looked up at the title card of some film you had heard good reviews on. truly, it didn’t really matter to you either way. “yeah, play it.” 

only about ten minutes in your eyes were getting heavy again. when your head knocked into something sturdy and warm you didn’t even stir.

kuroo sat back, trying to be as steady as he could as he leaned back on the couch, guiding you to lie on his chest. he knew if you kept your head cocked against his shoulder like it had been you would wake up with a cramp. although his knees were starting to get numb from the awkward half-laying, half-sitting position he was in, he didn’t dare to move. 

after a particularly loud noise from the movie, you stirred. you let out a small grunt as you tried to sit up. kuroo’s eyes were closed beneath you, but you weren’t convinced he was asleep. his arms were still wound tightly around your shoulders.

“kuroo?” you choked out hoarsely. his eyes blinked open and he flushed under your stare. “what are you doing?” 

“you fell asleep.” he muttered, sheepishly. you didn’t say anything back, but you didn’t make a move and neither did he. “hey, what was your first impression of me?” 

you chuckled, clearing the sleep from your voice. “you looked really cool and mysterious, but then you opened your mouth and i realized that you’re a dork.” he scoffed and ran his fingers soothingly up and down your back. 

“i can be cool.” he pouted. 

“you are cool,” you rolled your eyes, “you’re just also kinda a dork. you have a good balance.” you brought your hands up to more comfortable rest around his shoulders and shifted so your legs were on the couch. “what did you think about me at first?” 

“that you’re smart and quiet. you looked like you knew me. i also thought you looked really good in that sweater.”

you snorted, remembering the awfully cold night you had met kuroo through some mutual friends when the group of you went out to a bar. it had been so frigid you hadn’t bothered to dress nice even though you were going out, you put on the fuzziest, warmest sweater you owned. 

“hey.” he whispered. 

“yeah?” 

“do you like me?” 

your heart was pounding so hard you knew he had to be able to feel it against his chest. “are you still drunk?”

“only a little.” he answered honestly. “you let me hold your hand for a long time earlier and you seem pretty comfortable right now.” 

glad that you were tucked below his chin, you couldn’t help it that your face was heating up. “yeah, yeah i think i do like you.” 

“cool, you weren’t really trying to hide it.” you rolled your eyes at the smirk in his tone. your heart was still reverberating behind your ribcage. “oh, yeah, i like you too.” 

he groaned like an old man as he shifted under you to lay his legs out flat on the couch.

“did you...did you plan this?” 

“hmm, maybe.” he mused. “when you didn’t pull your hand away and dozed off on me on the bus i knew that i could tell you. didn’t expect you to snuggle up on me so fast though, buy me something to drink first.” 

finally, you completely relaxed into his hold. with your head nearly buried into his neck now you could faintly smell his woody soap. he tapped little rhythms into your shoulder blades with his fingertips, drawing small circles with his thumbs. 

“i bought you tea and junk food.” 

he laughed quietly, not wanting to shake you too much. “this is a pretty good sleepover, huh?” 

[cae-ruleam]

Crying Star

Day 2 - obsession/instincts

im not very good at writing or drawing angst so i wasnt planning on participating in this angst week, but i got bored during a short travel and i decided to have an attempt at writing a little ficlet... so here's my vanilla attempt at angst for today's prompt!

The citizens of rural Amity Park have recently been spotting ... something, in the sky at nights. Some said it looked just like a spark, a falling star. Others claimed that it had looked like an entity racing through the starry night sky. With all the light pollution it was hard to figure out what it really was. Some kids were even starting to wish upon this unusual star.

A few people however, theorized it could be a ghost. A spirit desperately trying to escape its destiny to the afterlife or some other nonsense, as most would call this hypothesis.

A young halfa snickered painfully as he flew through the sky at rapid speeds. What was he flying from at these hours? He wasn't quite sure if he were to be honest. If he had to put it into words, he was escaping from something within. The boy was physically trying to flee from a desire he knows he cannot fulfill. It never worked, yet he always kept going until he tired himself out. Every time he ended up in some city outskirts he'd never seen until then and will never see again after that. He did this whenever his desires were so strong that they were unbearable. Fleeing felt like the only option to try keep his mind at bay, albeit only a little.

Tonight was one of these days. He felt like he had to get away from the people, the place, which he cared about. He instinctively flew through the sky, far, far away from that place which he loved so much.

The amount of people in need had been increasing. Danny wasn't sure what caused this sudden spike either. He knew nothing about anything, to be frank. The more people had been in need, the stronger his desire to help grew. The more people had been in need, the smaller the chance that he was able to save them all. The less people he was able to save, the more it hurt.

As ghosts were made up of ectoplasm, their entire being existed as a form of energy. Their entire being felt linked. This meant that the mind and body were one and the same. What hurt the mind, hurt the body ... and that's it. There was no actual body to hurt. Being a half ghost did not exempt Danny from this rule. Rather, his unique biology gave him the worst of both worlds. What hurt the mind hurt the body and what hurt the body hurt the mind.

Ignoring one's obsession for too long would hurt the ghost's core and mind immensely.

Danny was aware of this fact, he had learned it the hard way early in his half life. This had pushed him to become Phantom- Amity Park's own hero from the afterlife. Saving people calmed his core, it felt liberating. The more people he aided, the happier his core felt. Eventually, it had started to feel like a drug. A drug so strong the halfa could not possibly lay off.

It started to get in the way of his studies and personal life, but that did not matter. Being Phantom allowed Danny to satisfy his growing obsession.

This was all an amazing sensation, until it got too much, of course. The more people there were that had to be saved, the more his desire to do so grew. The more often that he failed to rescue someone, the more it became painful. Eventually it had gotten to the point that his obsession, this instinct, started yelling at him from inside out. He could not even help anyone without the fear of not being able to save someone else as he was too occupied to do so. He felt like his remaining soul was getting ripped apart every waking moment.

This was when he started fleeing. Accidents, deaths, whatever else, they were always most occuring during night. Was it because of it being too hard to see in the dark, and thus causing more accidents? Was it because people thought they could get away with crimes more easily because of said darkness? Danny did not know, nor did he care. All he knew was that when nighttime hit, it was time to get out. Out of this damned town that he loved so much to the point of hurting him.

...

Some time has passed since he got out of Amity and now it wasn't just his obsession yelling at him. His tired and aching body was too. Normally one would feel agony at this point but Danny did not. He felt relief. Relief that his mind was currently not only haunted by his obsession, his desire to save, anymore. He fell to the ground, adding another pain factor that felt way more pleasant than it should've. The halfa could barely stand up, and he did not oppose this force keeping him down. He was on his knees, with hands digging in sand and other stones and pebbles slightly larger than sand. Anything that could keep his mind from hurting himself more than it already had was a good distraction. He felt like any pain in the world is more bearable than whatever his obsession caused him to feel.

As he coughed, some of his coughs turned into very short yet still destructive and ear piercing wails. This was of no matter however, there was no living being in sight that he could hurt with it. The only person he was hurting with the wail was himself. It hurt his vocal chords and drained his remaining, already rapidly depleting energy, even quicker.

Not long after, he passed out and white rings surrounded him, signaling his transformation back into Danny Fenton. At least it did not hurt anymore when he was knocked out.

[alreadyblondenow]

10:07 pm starting a family with incubus Mark Lee (M)

It’s already in the middle of the night and you are yawning while you scroll endlessly on Twitter. Checking for any kpop updates about your favorite groups, stealing memes and liking whatever interests you.

The light from your lamp shade is making you horny so you decided to go through twitter porn. An interesting amateur porn catches your attention as you watch it like a hawk because the guy looked like Mark Lee. Well not entirely but there are some few angles that make him look like Mark but he definitely not sound like Mark.

Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt. Putting your point finger in your mouth, playing your pussy lips with your wet finger. Running it up and down your slit until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside you and spread your legs wider. Lifting your shirt so you could pinch your own nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes and imagine Mark Lee touching you right now, making your pussy wet. “Oh, Mark” you moan his name to feed your imagination. You part your mouth and spread your legs more, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“If you want to fuck me so badly, open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt someone pinched your right nipple and you stopped what you’re doing. Opening your eyes as you see Mark right beside you, wearing a tank top and a sweat pants. His bright hair disturbing you, as he smiles right back at you but you swear it was a smirk.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?” he was looking down at you with eyes full of lust boobs exposed in front of him. “Can you remove your shirt?” with nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to removing your shirt. When you turned your back to face Mark, he’s suddenly naked beside you, arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already.

“How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” He asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary Mark is growing and growing. It’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until his gone and you finally sleep.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kisses your neck wildly. Holding your shoulder as he kiss you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” His kisses were addicting it almost feels like it’s making you weak. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds. “My imaginary Mark” he gave you another slap to make you realise that this is real and he’s not from your imagination.

“I’m a demon Mark” the mention of that word made you shiver, you wanted to push him away. “You weren’t like this when you moaned my name and imagined me touching you” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. To your surprise he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs. Tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” You closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy. Teasing your cunt from the back, licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.

The position Mark put you made you both moan a little louder. Fucking you with closed legs made him even more horny, he’s never done this before. Putting his entire cock deep inside your cunt, slowly laying on your back, chest to chest putting his entire weight on you.

Mark’s left cheek is resting on your face, thrusting in your tight hole as you whimper and grunt under him. “Oh baby, does it hurt?” He felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Sshhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. He’s truly is a devil.

He continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Reaching for your waist so you’re arching your back for him now, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

From behind, he cupped your boobs with both hands while he continues fucking you good. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out for the man fucking you but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

He stopped for a second putting his middle finger and point finger in your mouth, “tell me y/n, do you want a baby boy or a girl?” He removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply when he put his fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juice.

“Great choice. Okay, coming right up. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him excitedly, confident that you won’t get pregnant because this is only a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, showing your tired body to him and fucked up face. “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face, feeling his soft skin and admiring his handsome face closely while you can.

Mark made himself comfortable in between your legs as he takes time with you. Kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to lining his cock in your entrance. Pushing in slowly and gently as you requested. Giving you a few couple of slow and gently thrusts.

“Now, can I rough you up a little?” He sure has no patience. You have no other choice when you he puts your hands around him, “I’ll let you touch me.” Thrusting hard again in your cunt, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and ask for more, letting you kiss him whenever you want to in exchange for being a few rough thrusts.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moan like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now. Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, telling you how you were so good for him. It’s like he has an off switch button for his rough attitude.

“It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm. Im so proud of you” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

You woke up from the awesome dream feeling tired as fuck, trying to remember every little thing about the dream. All you can remember is that he looks like exactly Mark Lee. You need to meet your boss and have lunch with some of your client in two hours so you get on with your day and tried to forget the weird wet dream.

12:17 pm Lunch with a ‘client’

As you wait for your boss and your client you got yourself a blueberry mojito. By the time they arrived, you almost puked the two glasses of mojito right then and there.

“Y/n, this is Mark Lee. He does look like a kpop idol but trust me he’s not” your boss introduced you to the man in front of you. You offered a hand for him to shake but he kissed your right hand like a gentleman and winked at you as if you knew each other for so long already.

“The mojito is bad for the baby” he whispered darkly beside your ear when your boss was busy talking to the waiter. “I’ll fuck that alcohol out of your system tonight”

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

MAIN MASTERLIST

QUESTION? SEND A REQUEST?

[darth-does-stuff]

ok so i need to place this information somewhere and i just decided id post it here 

 idk if im even gonna post the actual superhero au fic but im posting it here anyways

 this superhero au is gonna fit all the angst in here because there is little angst in the chaos crew au lmao

but here are the separate arcs each is gonna face in this au under the cut

(there is gonna be some graphic stuff so be warned)

(it is also going to be very long)

heed the tags guys

Logan

A very important factor for his entire character in this au is that he has cybernetics. His right eye, his left arm, and the lower half of his left leg. This happened due to an explosion, his arm and lower left leg essentially blown off, and shrapnel piercing his eye. 

His arc centers around his cybernetics, thinking they are a burden, and feeling like he doesn’t fit in, along with feeling inadequate. 

Logan struggles with thinking that his cybernetics aren’t truly a part of him, just something he has to deal with. A burden. He resents it, there’s no sugarcoating it. He wishes he had his human limbs back.

 In his arc, he’ll deal with the fact he has them, and that no amount of wishing will ever change it. He accepts them as a part of himself, an imperfect part, for sure, but every human is imperfect. Hell, even human parts of himself are imperfect, so it fits right in. 

Before he accepts it as a part of himself, though, he deals with feelings of inadequacy. People often pitied him (keep in mind they thought he had prosthetics), trying to ‘lighten the load’ for him. He appreciated the thought, but they never let him do anything. He felt like they were belittling him. Logan tried to brush it off, but deep down, he worried that he truly was inadequate. Was he weak? Should he even be doing these things? Was he good enough? Sometimes...Logan felt he wasn’t.

But, once he hits the arc with accepting his cybernetics, he faces this feeling of inadequacy and proves it wrong. He’s been doing things normal humans couldn’t dream of and the city’s still thriving. He’s faced countless robbers, countless villains, and found a home with the team. He was good enough. He was okay. He’d be fine. Of course, sometimes he’d still have those feelings of not being good enough, but he could deal with it now. It wasn’t something that haunted his nightmares.

But, even after the whole cybernetic arc, he still faces the problem of not fitting in. Even before having superpowers and cybernetics, he wasn’t like other children. He was the eldest child, so his parents were basically helicopter parents, afraid he was going to get hurt in some way. As he got older and he had more siblings, they got a bit more lax, but he still hadn’t done things normal children had done. He didn’t explore, didn’t interact much with other children (though that was more of his doing), barely went outside, and had his every move basically monitored. Logan preferred reading a book to playing at the park, drawing a picture instead of hanging out with friends, etc., etc. So, he always felt a bit like an outsider. It only got worse once he had the incident. 

Now, he had fucking powers and literal robotics attached to his body, and he was scared. He was angry. He was...confused. How would his life change? What would happen to him? Then, all of a sudden, he got roped into being a fucking vigilante and just had to deal with it.

Then, he joins this team, all of them so much more normal than him, and he still doesn’t know what to do. He’s scared they are going to judge him, belittle him, like so many before them had done.

But...they don’t. They accept him, they joke with him, they are happy with him. And, he slowly starts to relax. He comes out of his shell and he feels...complete. It’s okay he isn’t normal. It’s okay he doesn’t exactly fit in. Everything is okay. 

He doesn’t blame his parents for being helicopter parents, he still loves them and his siblings. He knows they were worried about him. Sure, they did mess up, but he’s made countless mistakes in his life too. He doesn’t blame them or his siblings. They helped him become who he is and he is eternally grateful for that.

Patton

Patton faces the problem of his public image and his own self-image. In public and when he is Typhoon, he puts on this bright and chipper personality. And it’s grueling to keep up because that is not who he truly is. He’s much more mischievous, much more sarcastic, much more brash, much more himself. 

He tries to keep up this optimistic persona because he doesn’t want backlash. He’s afraid of what people would say if they saw the real thing. So, he puts up an image. Smile, all the time. Wave enthusiastically. Don’t let them see through you. Act like you’re fine. You always have to be fine, right? That’s what Patton thinks, at least.

With his arc, he slowly learns to just accept himself. It helps when Virgil joins the team, because he sees him not putting up a facade. He acts himself, dark and broody, sarcastic and sardonic. And nobody really questioned it or gave him backlash. Patton has this moment of ‘Oh’ because he realizes that he can show what he truly is. He no longer has to hide.

When he first starts showing himself as he actually is, he’s scared. It’s only natural, no matter how much you prepared for it, you will still be scared. Some people notice. There are a few news articles as some just want drama. But, his team, his friends, his family backs him up and it strengthens his resolve. He learns to ignore those types of people, knowing they only want drama. He can finally be...himself.

Roman

Oh boy, this is going to be a doozy.

Roman’s angst is that his entire world view changes, his beliefs (not religious) crumble. Everything just seems to flip for him.

Roman had always thought that everyone could be redeemed. No matter the deed. Everyone deserves a second chance. He’s faced criminals and villains with this belief at the forefront of his mind. 

When everything else seemed to be crumbling around him, this belief sustained him. It kept him going. It was a constant when nothing else stayed the same.

But now? Now everything is foreign. Everything is changing with nothing being that constant that he so desperately needed. This situation he is facing hits even closer to home because--well, I’m afraid I can’t say because of spoilers, but let’s just say it may involve a certain mustached villain ;)

But, anyways, in his arc, he realizes that everything can’t just be sunshine and daisies. He’s known this before, but it hits full force now. He has to accept that some people can’t be redeemed, that some are just...evil. He hates to admit it, but he knows it’s true.

His friends--no, family backed him up. They helped him with this realization, helped to make sure he doesn’t break. And he is so, so, so, so grateful and thankful for them.

He knows that some people can’t change. He’s...well, he’s not fine with it, but he accepts it at the very least. And when he looks around at his family, seeing how genuine and kind they are, he knows that, no matter what, all he needs is his family to survive.

Virgil

He faces problems with his self-esteem, his own anxiety, and his fear of lack of self-control.

He has little self-esteem. He always has, really. Since he was a kid, he always overthought everything he did, criticized himself severely, always tried to push himself harder, in unhealthy amounts. It all left him feeling so tired.

He kept doing this even into adulthood, checking himself, always wondering if he could do better, barely feeling good about things he did. Things he wanted to be proud of, but just couldn’t.

When he joins the team, it’s a slow process. He was immensely afraid of being judged, of being insulted, of them. They were all these heroes the city recognized and praised and he was left feeling like shit, in his mind at least. He felt like he couldn’t keep up. Virgil kept trying to push himself harder to at least try and be on the same level as them, but ended up pushing much too hard, passing out from exhaustion and stress.

They realized his mindset, having had once had this mindset themselves, and help him deal with it, help him try to minimize it because it’s not something you can be fully rid of. They know this themselves because sometimes they still get those moments, where they feel they aren’t doing enough and push harder, too harder. But, the best they can do is to deal with it. And that’s exactly what Virgil does. 

His anxiety is also a doozy. 

It holds him back so much. Especially with fear of failing. He doesn’t want to fail anybody. He wants to do the best he can and do it perfectly. But, the problem is that he can’t. He knows he can’t and it terrifies him. His anxiety and fear of failing prevent him from doing so many things just because of what could go wrong. 

The team also helps with this. They provide somebody he can rant to and offer solutions and different types of perspective. They help him to realize that if you only worry about what could go wrong, then you wouldn’t be able to do anything, you wouldn’t be able to live. Because with that mindset, you aren’t living, you are only surviving. 

And they help Virgil see this point. Help him to not let his anxiety hold him back from things he really wants to do. And it provides him with so many opportunities. 

They all know that sometimes, it’s going to happen. Sometimes, Virgil just can’t be able to do something because the fear practically paralyzes him. It’s like with his self-esteem issues. It’s not something you can be rid of, just something you have to deal with. They help him when this happens, help bring him back to reality and help to calm him down.

Lastly, his fear of no self-control. You have to remember that their powers can be heavily influenced by emotions. Strong bursts of emotions can work it into overdrive. Too much use of their powers can also use all of their energy. In very extreme cases, it can lead to death.

But, while Virgil is also afraid of the side effects, he’s mostly afraid of what his powers can do to other people, innocent people. And, to him, it’s a found fear. It’s happened before. He’s hurt others without meaning to and he vowed to never do it again. This is partly why he became a vigilante, to protect others instead of hurting them. But he is so afraid of still harming them and he has nightmares about it. It practically haunts him. He fears turning into those killers and villains he’s fought.

Once again, the team is very helpful in debunking this. They’ve explained their own experiences, explained how they themselves have hurt innocents without meaning to, and it’s something you have to just...deal with, like all other problems. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Him worrying about being a bad person just proves furthermore that he isn’t. After all, a bad person wouldn’t care about it. But, he does. And that is what provides the difference. 

Janus

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Remus

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