#it's very easy to get too self-conscious about what you post and write when you aren't sure how others feel

[tvrningout-a]

i'm grabbing y'all by the face and telling y'all that the alternate version of jorogumo is gonna be chiyo's mom and it's gonna be angsty as heck bc chiyo never got to know her mom and her mom never got to know her and : ))))) it's a very weird and uncomfy situation when they meet before it's actually kinda healing. but first i gotta brainstorm and develop her momma a lil more and find a fc... if anyone has suggestions, i'll take 'em uvu

[chrollogy]

SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #01

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

next | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to try out the university confessions page as an anonymous submitter to write a vague paragraph about your feelings for Iwaizumi—oddly enough, students following the page seems to be hooked in your confession.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff, oikawa appearance :3, reader is helplessly in love with mr iwaizumi hajime, not beta read.

word count: 2.3k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. sorry this came a bit late >< i fell asleep LMAOOOOOO

Falling in love has always been a weird concept. One day you wake up, and feel completely different towards a certain someone who you swear you only love platonically; your heart starts to race faster whenever you’re in their presence, mind formulating a million different thoughts on how to act normally until it loses its meaning, suddenly becoming overly self conscious of one’s appearance, and always wanting to look your very best whenever they’re around—the whole package.

Unfortunately, you were all too familiar with this.

As though in a romance movie, the whole world slowed down as your eyes landed on the person before you, anything, and everything faded into nothing—a mere whitenoise behind the rapid pounding of your heart.

Iwaizumi’s hair gleamed beneath the sun’s afternoon rays, long lashes ghosted over the apple of his cheeks, rosy lips slightly puckered in concentration. You remembered it like yesterday—the strong aroma of roasted coffee beans, the light chatter of other customers in the café, the warm blanket of sunshine, the heart-stopping eye contact.

Iwaizumi called your name a total of three times until you finally broke free from your trance; everything flooded back the moment your name slipped past his parted lips for the third time—as though suddenly reeled from a freeze frame.

You remembered blinking at him, letting a heartbeat or two pass before asking him what he needed, though, Iwaizumi’s words entered one ear, and left the other; you were more focused on the way his plush lips moved with every word spoken, mind wondering what it’d feel like against your own.

That night, you tossed, and turned beneath your ivory blanket; mind a complete mess, and heart an even bigger mess. You just didn’t get why you had to catch feelings for Iwaizumi out of all people.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, never but everything between the two of you has been strictly platonic ever since—hell, you both even had a fair share of past relationships; you felt indifferent when Iwaizumi introduced his first girlfriend to you but now, just the thought introducing another woman made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

Realising that bottling up these feelings was a foolish thing to do, you scoured your mind for anything, and everything just to find some kind of release from all these unsaid thoughts. You were close to giving up, and retire for the night until a random thought popped into your mind,

Seijoh University Anonymous Confessions.

The unofficial page was undoubtedly popular amongst the students of the university, it served as a freedom wall where one was given the ability to express anything, and everything to fellow students behind anonymity; ranging from harmless rants about the meal prices all the way to heartfelt messages, you name it.

Submitting a confession was easy, all one had to do was fill up an anonymous form linked on the page, and wait ‘til moderators post it for everyone else to see.

You’ve always just been an avid reader of the confessions, a mere pastime in between lectures, and study breaks. It was interesting to see other students’ perspective, and thoughts in the campus you all shared, serving you a reminder that despite being in the same environment, everyone experienced things very differently.

Though, the only constant factor in everyone’s university lives was the confession page, even yours.

Despite the page ensuring full anonymity, it was still nerve-wracking to turn your feelings into words, your thumbs shook as you typed each letter into the anonymous form. You knew Iwaizumi would eventually see this confession despite only reading from the page from time to time, you just hoped it was vague enough for him to not notice—he was smart, and usually pieced clues together like it was nothing.

Surely out of all these students submitting confessions to this page everyday, Iwaizumi wouldn’t know, right?

The next few days consisted of refreshing said page, and waiting for your confession to pop up. “You’ve picked up your phone at least ten times in the past two minutes, what’s so interesting?” Oikawa’s dulcet voice pulled you into reality, your torso unceremoniously jerked away to shield your phone as he attempted to take a peek at the device in your hand.

The former narrowed his eyes at you but before he could throw a sly remark your way, Iwaizumi let out an annoyed sigh which gained yours, and Oikawa’s attention.

“Oikawa, if you’re bored, go bother someone outside the study room.”

The brunette playfully rolled his eyes before standing up to stretch, a small yawn slipping past his rosy lips. “Alright, I’m going to get some snacks. Anyone want any?” He grabbed his phone off the table before shifting his gaze between you, and Iwaizumi who only shook his head in silence, completely preoccupied with an assignment.

“Can I come?” “No, go scroll on your phone.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out, not letting you protest before leaving the study room. The sound of the door clicking echoed throughout the walls of the study room, a deafening silence engulfed you, and Iwaizumi; for you, the silence was awkward, for him, it was completely normal.

If your heart were to pound any louder against your chest, you were sure he would’ve heard.

You randomly flipped through the pages of your textbook, trying to make yourself look busy. God, you couldn’t get more awkward than this. A flurry of overly self-conscious thoughts flooded your mind—would he think I’m weird for flipping too many pages? Fuck, am I reading this paragaph too fast? Is my posture okay? Oh god, I haven’t looked at a mirror all day, do I look fine? Is my hair messy?

Small, sharp prickles kissed down your body as heat engulfed you out of nowhere, cheeks warmed, and palms sweaty. You let out a sigh, nails digging into the skin of your nape, attempting to relieve the annoying itch.

“You okay? You seem very stressed lately.” Iwaizumi pushed his laptop screen halfway down to get a better view of you, he was slouched far into his seat, arms propped on either side of his laptop. His gaze met your own, deep emerald eyes boring into your very core. With a racing heart, you turned your mind upside down for an answer,

“Yeah . . I’m fine. Just tired is all.” Mentally cursing yourself, your nails harshly dug into the hearts of your palm—your voice came out small, and airy, not really convincing but whatever. If Iwaizumi caught your little white lie, he didn’t press on, instead returning a subtle dip of his chin before shifting his gaze back onto the laptop before him.

Sounds of soft keyboard tapping, and the low hum of the wall clock accompanied the deafening silence, you sat there twiddling your thumbs like a dumbass as if you weren’t supposed to be studying.

Iwaizumi wasn’t even doing anything yet here you were, warm faced, and as stiff as a board, if only he knew the effect he had on you. It was beyond embarrassing, really, how he was able to have this effect on you with little to no effort but then again, this was the Iwaizumi Hajime, of course it made sense.

For the first time in forever, you silently wished Oikawa came back as soon as possible—each second passed without a word spoken between you, and Iwaizumi, and you could really use the brunette right now to diffuse the growing awkwardness on your side.

As if the heavens answered your prayer, Oikawa came striding past the door, a bunch of snacks tucked neatly beneath his arm, and torso; you’ve never felt happier seeing him but you weren’t about to let anyone know. The brunette held his phone with his other hand, brown eyes concentrated on the device,

“Have you guys read the new confession? The page just posted it a couple of minutes ago.” He set the snacks on the table, and slid one your way before sitting down.

That’s right, just like you, Oikawa was also an avid reader of the university confessions page as though it was the morning newspaper. You couldn’t really blame him, the whole concept of it was interesting, plus, some confessions were rather strange but fascinating, nonetheless.

Iwaizumi wordlessly shook his head, not sparing a glance at his friend, you, on the other hand, felt a sudden wave of panic wash over your body. Did they finally post your confession? You squirmed in your seat, trying to act nonchalant, and completely normal about the situation at hand, “Mmm, no, not yet. Is it that interesting?”

Oikawa let out a low hum, an amused smile plastered on his face, with the way his gaze shifted back, and forth across the screen of his phone, he seemed to be reading the newest confession. The expression on Oikawa’s face did nothing to relax your nerves, he looked like he was enjoying every bit of the post—surely, you didn’t put much detail into it for anyone to piece it together or did you?

You expected the brunette to answer a simple yes or no along with a little explanation like he always did whenever he brought up the confessions page but apparently, he decided he’d read it out loud without you or Iwaizumi even asking.

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Here, I’ll read it out loud,” 

“Oh god. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to me but lately I’ve noticed that every time I see him, my heart starts racing. I can’t act normally around him anymore and he just looks so handsome whenever I see him. It’s hopeless, I know but some part of me wishes that my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t blame myself for falling in love because he’s such an amazing guy. He’s my everything, he knows that but he doesn’t know I don’t mean platonically. Sigh.”

As your friend read deeper into the paragraph, you slouched further into your seat, cheeks burning like the sun, and embarrassment engulfing your whole body. That was your confession. Fuck, you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole right then, and there.

Your eyes darted between Oikawa, and Iwaizumi, scanning their expressions—the former obviously had a smug smile on his face while the latter looked indifferent; the same old deadpan expression he’d worn since the start of your study session.

As if to make things worse for you, the brunette spoke up again, “It’s gaining quite the attention only because it's such a juicy confession, and students are trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend.” Oikawa chuckled, turning off his phone, and resting his palms behind his head.

What the fuck. How was your confession gaining more attention than the others? Last time you checked, yours was just a typical love confession, something all students have seen hundreds of times on the page, nothing special.

“W-what? Why? Why is it gaining attention?” Your tone came out more panicked than intended. Upon realising this, you awkwardly cleared your throat, and took a sip from your water bottle to help your nerves calm a tad bit before speaking up once again, “What’s so interesting about it, anyway?”

Oikawa shrugged, “Just a typical love confession but I’m not going to lie, it’s always interesting whenever someone has feelings for their best friend.”

Grabbing the snack Oikawa gave you earlier, you hastily opened the bag, and popped a chip in your mouth. Yeah, maybe eating something will calm your nerves.

This time, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to speak up, “Mhm. I’m guessing everyone’s just curious about it, maybe many can relate. It’s not easy being in love with your best friend.” He finally looked up from his laptop, dark emerald eyes shifting from Oikawa to you.

His gaze lingered a little too long for your liking which caused your brain to short circuit. Before you knew it, all you could do was listen to the sound of your yearning heart, fingers curling around the chip packet as your grip tightened.

You sucked in a breath, and averted your gaze from Iwaizumi, staring at the contents of your chip packet, “True . . I feel sorry for OP, especially since it's a long term friendship.” At least your voice didn’t come out shaky this time. Iwaizumi only nodded, he seemed to be in deep thought, whatever the reason was, you absolutely didn’t want to know.

Back in your dorm, you couldn’t help but check the comments under your confession, and as Oikawa stated earlier, majority of it were students tagging their friends on the post, and trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend. Some also gave sound advice about the situation which you appreciated, though, you didn’t know if you were really ready for a face to face confession with Iwaizumi.

Weirdly enough, the unexpected attention gave you a bit of confidence now that you were looking at it from another perspective. Earlier, it felt like a complete nightmare with how much other students were invested in your sad lovelife but now that you’ve calmed down, it was reassuring to see others give blind support, and words of encouragement.

Safe to say, there was still a hint of community between students despite everyone fighting their way through the semesters.

Plus, everyone seemed to await your next confession post, so who were you to deny them that? After all, you couldn’t really talk about it with anyone else, why not share it with the student population behind anonymity?

As expected, not only did your confession gain more traction within the next few days, but friends from classes you’re taking have also been talking about it. Though you couldn’t really comprehend what was so special about your submission, your feelings felt nothing but valid. Suddenly, it didn’t really feel like much of a crime being in love with your best friend—running away from your feelings was never an option but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t once cross your mind.

A million thoughts from students floated throughout the campus regarding the confession; ‘I wonder what their best friend is like?—he must be a really amazing guy.’ ‘I’m kind of curious as to what the person behind the confession is going to do next.’ ‘Heh, what if this confession is actually meant for me?’ ‘When will it be my turn?’

You’ve heard it all.

Despite everyone’s attention on the post, you just really wished that in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind, there was a pressing thought telling him the confession might be for him.

—

comments under the post:

—

tags: @stunie @akumakitsune21 @boosyboo9206 @khfviq @avis-writeshq @elliesndg @1929sleepdeprived @wakashudou @lillycore @viscoolreal @lialia3945 @softpia (drop a comment/ask if you wanna be tagged! make sure to turn your mentions on :3)

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @the-all-stars-network !

© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[smokeypeaches-and-honeyplums]

First i just wanna say your headcanons are seriously top notch, excellent work 👌. Ok now onto the actual request, could you do the NSFW alphaber for Macaque like you did for Redson? Don't forget to have a lovely day. 💙

What a way for me to return lmao. Thank you for the compliment, I tend to get self conscious about my writing.

You've heard it all before. Sorry for being inactive, I'm coming back, especially with the new specials coming out. I have more time on my hands. Gonna go through the box until I can start accepting again.

Edit post-s5: all is hell and I just need to cope atp what the FUCK was that season/pos

Reader is Gender-Neutral by default!

// NSFW!! MINORS DNI //

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I like to imagine Macaque is very cuddly for aftercare. Tapping into his primal side, he's more possessive and protective. So, he holds onto you, petting you as he whispers in your ear, helping you down from subspace if he has to (or domspace if you topped).

Given he has portals, shadow travel and clones, he can get all your needs met without leaving you. So, you get cuddles AND resources provided. The perfect aftercare.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Macaque honestly doesn't like much about himself. He can talk the talk, looking as if he has a healthy or overbearing ego, but get him alone for long enough? He'll be second guessing how he even blinks

Exaggerating, of course

Point is, there's not much. A lot of it has been marred as well, so it makes it worse. Though, he's come to love his face. With or without the glamour, you've gotten this far with him and loved him through his roughest time. And it's one of the things you seemed to fall for

Besides, he's gotta admit, he does look a bit on the good side.

On you though, if you're Masc leaning, he loves your arms. Shows your strength and capabilities, and their nice to look at. It feels nice to be vulnerable in them

If you're Fem leaning, he'll admit, he's a bit of an ass guy. Ass and thighs, specifically. Their nice to lay on. And they also feel so nice between his fingers, against his hips...

Ahem.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Leaning into that more primal side, Macaque likes to mark you now and then. He isn't very fond of making messes, borderline germaphobe if you asked me, but there's a part of him that likes to make a mess out of you specifically, in such a way no one else could, in such an intimate setting

It gives him a sense of control and possession of something intimate he's honestly been lacking for... however long its been honestly

However, if you make big messes/are a squirter, he's eating that shit up, figuratively and literally

It's like ambrosia on his tongue

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Believe it or not? Macaque doesn't really have a dirty secret. None he would consider one, anyways.

But, a secret at ALL would be how Macaque really wants to be cherished. He DOES want to give up control to a degree, he's just scared of getting hurt again. You can only do so much to heal his soul, so when he DOES bottom, CHERISH it. He doesn't do it easy

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Can I say no? Not really?

Okay, well, not completely, but he's a quick learner

Macaque has been dead for however long it's been. And in that time, he definitely kept to himself A LOT. Hard to make connections when you're supposed to be, ya know, DEAD. So he didn't pick up much. But he did pick up SOMETHING

But, he's a quick learner. So don't worry too much. He does ask that you tell him if he's doing something wrong though, he doesn't wanna hurt you

That's the last thing he wants to do

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Honestly, in contrast to Redson, Macaque hates any position where you can see his face in turn. Sure, he loves to see yours, but contrary to popular belief, he HATES how he looks.

He knows how to fake it til he makes it, so that confidence is very exaggerated

But hey, at least he still gets to have a good show as he has his way with you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He'll pop a joke now and again, don't get me wrong. Macaque isn't AS much of a hardass about it in comparison to how Redson would be about the moment. Though he doesn't want it completely ruined

He won't hesitate to make you laugh though. Especially if it helps ease tension

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's a monkey. Hair goes crazy

Macaque never thought to really groom down there. I mean, why would he? He never expected to get to this point with anyone again.

So no, he's not really "well groomed," so I hope you don't mind fur in your mouth if you go to town on him in either regard on either side

He does develop a habit to get better groomed though.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Macaque is very intimate. He cherishes this, cherishes YOU. You mean so, so much. You've gotten this far with him, so he treasures you and whenever you guys get down and dirty, he does it with the intention of love making.

No primal urges

No biting (unless you want to, that is)

Just pure and utter devotion.

Maybe it's because it's all he's known, but it's how he shows his love to you. Praise and devotion.

uh- where were we again?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Macaque only really starts to masturbate proper when he gets in a relationship with you and start to get intimate (or just, getting intimate in general if you're just fwb)

Don't get me wrong! It's not like he HASN'T touched himself before. He's a demon at the end of the day, urges happen

It just increased in frequency when he got tangled up with you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly? BDSM. Especially Bondage. Bondage specifically on you, though. For... obvious and not so obvious reasons

Roleplay! He's an actor, he's dramatic, he's a theater kid. He's gotta put it somewhere, right?

He's very partial to oral and might even have an Asphyxiation kink, in regard to both of you. Especially you though. And, in moderation so neither of you get hurt

Likes to use his clones on you now and again. It's fun to see

Would you believe me if I said he has a slight Exhibition kink? Listen to my vision-

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As far away from FFM as possible /hj

Macaque prefers it to be somewhere he can have you to himself. In the future, or some point in time, he could entertain the idea of sharing. Maybe. But until then, no one gets to see the faces you make.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Macaque is a simple man/demon. Anything on average to get ANYONE going would get him going

Show a bit of skin in the right places, curve a certain way, bend over in front of him

He's a simple man/demon. He's allowed to give in to his vices when he's tempted by the likes of you

If you're Masc leaning, he'll start to get going just from seeing your arms and muscles flex, even if you're doing something simple. He folds easy

If you're Fem leaning, anything that shows off your ass and/or thighs has him weak in the knees and absolutely unable to keep his hands to himself. He folds easy²

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Macaque absolutely REFUSES to be bound. He'll entertain the idea of holding himself back, but he REFUSES to have his legs and arms bound. For, again, obvious and not-so obvious reasons

Macaque REFUSES to hurt you in any way beyond the asphyxiation. He regards you in such a high light, that he refuses to purposefully hurt you. It'd destroy him, no matter how much you would tell him its okay, no matter the context. So no knifeplay, bloodplay, or anything of that sort.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Macaque's asphyxiation kink purely stems from oral, I am gonna be honest

He'dchokeonthestrap

He prefers to give than to receive, but if offered, he'll DEFINITELY take the chance. You didn't hear that from me though

He also likes the praise he gets from it too, but again, didn't hear that from me

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If you couldn't tell from how much I say it, Macaque revels in you as a whole, so he likes to take it slow.

He tends to take things slow, no matter what it is, so you better best believe that he is taking his time with you. He'll squeeze in some teasing too to make you feel good

He wants to savour you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Just because Macaque wants to savour you, doesn't mean he can't also have appetizers now and again

He'll have a quickie now and again, but don't be surprised if he asks for more. But it's also not impossible for it to be enough for him, so if he needs to get off, he'll settle

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you can't tell, the answer is No. For most things

Macaque is still willing to experiment, don't get me wrong, but he has very set boundaries for what area he'll be willing to experiment with and what he won't.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Look at him. Look at him and tell me you don't think he wouldn't be able to LAST.

Macaque's capable of a lot of things in and out of combat, so he definitely has the Stamina to last. Honestly, I have a general headcanon that demons, especially more powerful ones, have tons of stamina.

Have fun walking if you teased him :D

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are a possibility. Macaque doesn't own em, so you'd have to bring them into the fray first.

Tease him though, and watch him melt in your hands when you get him to bottom. He makes the sweetest sounds

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Macaque's only unfair if you're unfair. And he'll always return the favor tenfold, no matter how badly you teased him. It's only fair, right? And besides, it's not like he's the only one that makes such sweet sounds

But trust, if Macaque starts teasing, you're in for a LONG night

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Macaque has sensitive hearing, if you couldn't tell, but that makes it all the better to him

He loves to growl in your ear if he tops, hear his pants and moans as he makes both of you feel good, hitting that spot you told him felt so good that one time, feeling you cling to him

And when he bottoms? He goes the full fucking MILE

Macaque is LOUD when he bottoms. If he's being this vulnerable, he might as well go all out. So he WHINES, he CRIES and by the great sage, does he MOAN.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Macaque's a dom-leaning switch, if you couldn't tell by now from what I've been implying, only bottoming once he's comfortable enough to and with his initiation the first go around

Also, whenever he teases, I like to imagine he likes to use his shadow abilities for various ideas (with your approval, of course). This includes Bondage, his clones, transformation. I mean, shit, sky's the limit

I also like to think he's not very good with the usual things at first. Things like dirty talk, foreplay, stuff like that. He will ask for guidance. He doesn't wanna fuck it up with you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I can FINALLY talk about it

Macaque's not some "well-endowed" sex master, so he's not gonna be packing some star-seeing dick either. Well, he could, when he knows how to use it

The guy's above average, at 7.1 inches and 5 in. in width lacking in curvature. He's never thought anything of it, since he never needed to use it often

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Demons have a naturally high libido, and Macaque is no different.

Same as I said with Redson, Macaque isn't some raging, horny demon just because of the type of demon he is. He can be primal, but he has control over it

Entertain it though...

Have mercy on your legs

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once Macaque finishes for the night (or, however long,) he can be seen almost passing out. He'll make sure you're fine, hence why he kinda leans on his clones to care for you while he cuddles into you, but he kinda crashes out once he's officially spent. A bad habit of his

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

[owlf45]

Hi Owl, did owl, did you ever hate your own writing? Like thinking its so bad to the point that you want to delete it? Because i just upload my first ever fanfic and keep overthinking about the fic, its just everytime i read it its feels worst than before 😭. Did you have advice about how to deal with this feeling?

Absolutely I did! Almost every author's note in all of my old fics has a section with me expressing how much I hated my own writing.

The beginning stage of writing is hard. It's okay if what you wrote wasn't exactly what you had in your head, but if you're having fun with the process, the end product doesn't have to be perfect (it never is). It doesn't matter. You'll only get better at writing as you go.

Secondly, the more you read something repeatedly, the more you hate it. Forbid yourself from reading your fic for the next few months. Some of the writing I hated the most, I went back to read it years later and it was funny, charming, or downright amazing. If you read it too often, you become so entangled with it that you forget that a reader is absorbing everything you wrote for the first time— and they'll probably love it. Leave it alone until you can look at it with fresh eyes. Stop reading it! Don't obsess over it.

Also, it's straightforward as an author to point out what you think are 'flaws' in your work. But guess what? Readers... probably won't even notice. In fact, some of the things you think suck, your readers will find meaning in. When I was younger and a bit more nihilistic, I thought Imaginary was always too fluffy to be that rich in complexity compared to some of my darker works. However, readers pointed out how the fact that the characters choose kindness and silliness—repeatedly, despite their own history—is refreshing, optimistic, and genuinely joyful. Your readers can find so many valuables in your writing that you never even comprehended while writing it. So you can hate your work, but really, you only hate your perception of it.

(I can never give a concise response, so the rest is under the cut:)

I have deleted plenty of my old works because I hated them. There are about ten that will never see the light of day again. And while I don't regret taking them down, I GREATLY regret not saving backups. My recommendation: keep your fic up (for now) until you've written a couple more. You learn a shitton of writing skills within those first few fics, and if you keep backtracking rather than moving forward, you might feel stuck. Once you get more comfortable with the writing process and you have a bigger pool of writing to compare with, then start thinking about what you want public and what you don't. (And save everything as a backup). I caution you against obsessing over a perfect profile/discography, however, and deleting everything as soon as you don't like it anymore. It's very easy to compare your works and your stats with this invisible standard you've set for yourself, or with other creators. Don't.

My relationship with my writing improved the most when I started posting more, and when I kept the silly stuff on my profile. When I only had 3 works (and two were long-form WIPs), I felt super self-conscious about posting anything new. But then I did Fic Fight and posted like 12 works in a month, and most of them are not that significant. But they were fun to write. Suddenly I gained a much healthier respect for my writing. It doesn't have to be perfect, I just have to enjoy writing and sharing it with others. I think all writers who put a lot of stock into their writing have to internalize that at some point.

If you really enjoyed writing your first fic, and you really want to share it with others, then keep doing it. There may come a time down the line, maybe a few years later, when you can look back at this fic and recognize how you would write it differently. But that comes with time and experience. So keep writing for fun and for yourself! (And if you're stuck, stop re-reading your writing, and ask a friend to beta your work for you!)

Hell, I will give a perfect example right now. For all I appreciate my own writing, I still get a little weird about Imaginary. So I asked a few of my readers, whenever I'm done with the next chapter, to read it before I post it and vibe-check it. I've been doing this since chapter 3. I've been doing it for five years, basically. And literally every time I've gotten nothing but kindness, and I still, irrationally, freak out every time I have to update again. Does that stop me? No, though it does take me forever to update! So you should do the same! Keep going! Even if it takes you a while.

So yes. There's my forever-long lecture. I fail always to be concise. I hope this helps.

[pokemenlovingmen]

A mlm pokeimagines blog? In this economy? God where have you been all my life.

Apologies in advance if its a long ask lol

Seriously though you would not believe how happy I got when I saw this blog pop up! Barely any mlm reader stuff so finding you got my lil poke men loving heart all excited!

If requests are open I was wondering if you could do Emmets reaction to a male reader who loves the fact that Emmet is so blunt? I've seen some stuff like this in the past were reader loves Emmet DESPITE him being so blunt but I love him because of it!! I find it useful and charming!! I have a hard time understanding most people because I'm bad at picking up subtext and stuff in conversation so characters like Emmet that are just blunt and honest are always appreciated!

Also, claiming 🐗 boar anon in advance lol

Hi hi boar anon!!! I’m glad you like my blog so much! I literally made it bc I couldn’t find enough male reader content, and as a trans guy that gendered language is really affirming to me. Also not being courageous enough to get into a relationship with real human people lmao I gotta be gay somehow!! Literally all of you who’ve come to visit me on this blog are so sweet. I changed the blog description up for a reason, it really does feel like I’ve invited a bunch of funny gay guys into my living room and we’re all sitting in a circle whispering about boys. Doing this makes me feel so stupidly comfortable in my own skin and so much like a part of the LGBT community when I’ve had to stand on the sidelines most of my life, I just can’t explain how stupidly therapeutic writing imagines for fictional men from a fictional monster battling game is LMFAOOO

And we’re always here for supporting the autism shit lol, you can pry my autistic submas out of my cold dead hands, my submas will always be pretty heavily headcanoned and a post appreciating those verrry autistic coded traits is a huge win for me :) Emmet deserves to be loved for just being Emmet

Straight (Gay) to the Point— Emmet x Male Reader

⚪️ — Emmet and Ingo have grown up with a lot to be self conscious about, from their appearances to the behavioral quirks they share and the quirks they don’t. Kids can be cruel when you’re neurodivergent so different. So when you get together with Emmet and he comes to realize you LIKE his speaking patterns, he’s floored.

⚪️ — Emmet has always had a lot to say, but he’s quite bad at phrasing things. Compared to his brother who is a constant stream of consciousness, just prattling on about anything and everything that crosses his mind once you get him into conversation, Emmet needs to carefully plan out each word and it never comes out how he wants. Sometimes it feels like with his more approachable appearance (even if some call it creepy) and Ingo’s ability to talk (even if some say he rambles too much), they’re just two halves of one fully functional person. But you like him. Not his brother. Not him and his brother. You like him. How crazy is that?

⚪️ — He doesn’t have time to waste on careful wording. Do that, and he’d be plotting his course of conversation for ages. And he’s rather aware of that fact, so one day, he offhandedly mentions that he’s sorry his bluntness can be so off-putting, and he really hopes he hasn’t said anything to offend you.

⚪️ — Imagine his surprise when you said the contrary! When he heard you liked him because he said exactly what he meant, and he was always so clear-cut and easy to understand, it was like a fuse blew in him. Growing up, he’d always heard the opposite, and while Ingo never criticized him for it, plenty of other people did call him out for being rude when he didn’t mean to be.

⚪️ — He feels verrrry comfortable in conversation with you, yes indeed. Your sense of communication with one another is very strong and any conflict gets resolved very quickly. Emmet is happy to just talk with you and not have to pretend to have conversational skills he doesn’t have. You like him, his brother likes him, that’s all that matters.

⚪️ — He wants to talk with challengers on the Battle Subway more freely, so he’ll often come to you about the best ways to translate the things he wants to say into more “socially acceptable” ways of saying them. Of course, he’s also fully aware that he can come to you and not need to jump through all those hoops.

⚪️ — Since he’s so comfortable with you, he’ll say just about anything to you or around you and knows he can say things to you that will make you laugh, while others would just shush him for it.

⚪️ — After all, nothing makes you laugh quite as hard as sitting on your bed only to hear “OH DEAR! THE GALVANTULAS ARE MATING ON THE SOFA!” from across the apartment. Like cool Emmet, you definitely did NOT need to hear that—also please make them stop??—but that got the best laugh out of you you’ve had in a while.

⚪️ — He’s genuinely just so funny without trying. Another iconic moment you can recall is when, on a Friday night, a particularly inebriated woman was getting a bit too comfy with Emmet, which he was oblivious to at first, too preoccupied with the joy of battling. When you did tell him, though, you ended up laughing your ass off as he gasped and ran off with great urgency to apologize to the woman, as he was unable to reciprocate her advances due to both being taken and, I quote, “a homosexual”.

⚪️ — You’ve definitely made him a lot more comfortable, even in public situations, which he doesn’t seem to realize. The Battle Subway staff has regularly mentioned Boss Emmet has been way chattier than he used to be (which still doesn’t mean anything dramatic, but it’s a big step to him and that’s all it needs to be!) And anyone who has a problem with Emmet’s mannerisms can answer to you.

⚪️ — You’re more than just Emmet’s boyfriend, you gel perfectly into his family. And granted, that family is only Ingo, both of their Pokemon teams and Elesa ever since she basically adopted them, but it’s perfect anyway. It’s not like Emmet has been telling his brother about how much he wants to marry you eventually or anything.

⚪️ — You have literally so many Joltik grandchildren already.

⚪️ — Since both of you can struggle with reading other people, you often put your heads together to try and figure things out. (If it’s anything like the attempts at two neurodivergent people trying to use their combined knowledge to socially navigate that I’ve been a part of, it probably accomplishes nothing, but at least you can both relate to each other’s struggles and have a good laugh about it at the end of the day.)

⚪️ — He acts like a little kid with a crush around you and when he’s not working, he follows you around like a lost puppy.

⚪️ — He also knows that when he’s specifically feeling insecure about his mannerisms, he can lean on you for comfort, because you unashamedly love that about him. All of it. One night, after a particularly rough day, you remember him cuddling up to you and getting teary-eyed about how much you love him.

⚪️ — Please stay in his life, okay?

[dungeonmalcontent]

Man, any time a creative person shows me their project and they're like "What do you think? Where could I improve?" I really need to go "I like it. Maybe not how I would have done it but it works well. I'm excited to see where this goes."

But no, the stupid idealist person in my head keeps going "Don't sugar coat this. Offer the advice you'd like to hear. Better yet, offer to help if they're up for it." And then I do. And then they accept my offer. And then I sit down to see what I can do, because I'm gonna stick to my word darn it, and I either get so invested in working on it that I lose track of time and it's hours later than I thought it was or I'm so hopelessly out of my depth I have to apologize for even thinking I was up to the task (except for that one time the solution was literally just to delete an element from the page for print accessibility; that was an easy one where I knew exactly what I was doing and it was easy to do).

Anyway I'm struggling to remember my training in page layout. It's been years since I've had to do anything really innovative with page layout, but I'm working on a TTRPG character sheet redesign (and it isn't for 5e, not even d&d) and I'm both very into it and also struggling to keep up with myself. Mostly because I really like flowery line art but can't do it and get really self conscious when I make something really blocky but functional. But the layout is what's important. And for the life of me I can't remember which was the dominant model of page scanning for persons between the age of ~15 and ~30. Because there's a way that people look across a page and it changes depending on how old you are (or really, what generation you're from). And I'm too stubborn to do a web search right now.

You can see why I'm making this post, right? I'm losing my mind a little? Getting sucked into the project maybe? I'm about 10 steps from ranting to my reflection in the bathroom mirror about ideal proportions for vector graphic text frames, and those 10 steps are the literal steps between my bed (where I'm writing this) and the bathroom vanity.

[if-confessions]

I've been in the IF fandom for almost two years now, and I don't think I've ever found a fandom I've liked as much. I like the community here, the stories, creativity, how diverse the games are compared to other media I see.

I like reading IF, but more than that I'd really to create an IF game myself. I've been creating stories since childhood and I've always wanted to tell them to other people. However, I was never able to find a suitable medium for doing so. Creating video games is a passion that met reality and died too fast, writing traditional books makes me incredibly anxious, and comic and visual novels require way too much drawing when I'm a concept artist at best. And IF... IF seems to be exactly what I was always searching for. But here's a twist.

I'm not a writer. I'm really not. The amount of writing that I've done that wasn't for my studies is... not a lot. Which makes me extremely self-conscious of my writing, and I'm a very anxious person to start with (and English not being my native language doesn't help). I just don't know where to start, I've never even written fanfiction. And then if I end up actually writing something and posting it for people to see, I'm afraid of what they'll say, of me not being good enough, or of people being uninterested in anything I create. It's dreadful really. And I know that this feeling is possibly shared by so many other people, but I just don't know what to do about it.

I had wanted to post this earlier, but Tumblr ate my essay again...

Welcome, Anon, to the wonders of IF! Have a seat, and a cookie, and enjoy the ride! It's quite the experience, you'll see...

Totes understand your worries. With so many good projects out there, it's easy to not feel... adequate (in writing or proficiency); and with many in the community having opinions, to be unsure whether to publish said work.

But here's the thing: many of us in the IF community (especially as hobbyist) have not studied writing (for a while or at all)* or are writers either, and quite a few of us are ESL (hi, hello!)**. So you are in very good company!! *sidenote: some of us consider ourselves game dev/creators before writers too. **Dear... you wrote an essay of an ask with no mistake (that I could find) - I would not have guessed you were not a native speaker, if you hadn't said it before.

To relieve those anxious feelings, here are some advice, from one ball of anxiety to another one:

You don't have to publish anything you don't want to have public. If you prefer to write for yourself and yourself only, it's more than fine. Having fun is what matters.

There are ways to "hide" your project from searches (on itch or tumblr) to have a bit more privacy, as well as disabling replies/comments/ratings...

Setting boundaries from the beginning with people interacting with your projects (whether it is in asks, or doing beta/feedback rounds/etc...) can also be quite helpful (even if some people don't follow them...).

Join writing groups and share snippets/ask for feedback. It's helpful to get some boosts of confidence and get pointers on how to improve.

Have beta/playtest rounds for longer feedback needs (like when you are ready to upload/update a demo, to catch bugs or typos and stuff).

Joining game jams with small projects can help with testing ideas/stories/gameplay, and get comments/feedback from people.

Anyway, we all start somewhere, and very often (most always) that somewhere is not good at all. But that's ok :) There's always room and time for improvement and change (until you're finally happy with it). The beauty of online games is that you can always tweak it and fix it when something doesn't feel right. Nothing is ever set in stone!

Good luck :)

[tookishcombeferre]

Happy 8th Birthday Undertale!

It’s hard to believe Undertale turns 8 today!!

I’m going to be posting more of my fic (2 chapters) today in celebration, but I wanted to post something a little more personal on my blog.

In Summer 2022, I gave birth to a squish. Bean is incredible. I adore them.

One day in late Fall/Winter of 2022/2023 we were going on an Amma/Bean outing to just see some more of the world. I decided to play the Undertale soundtrack because I was feeling nostalgic and it was a style of music Bean hadn’t heard yet.

When I say Bean imprinted on “Death by Glamour” I mean they imprinted on that song to the point that I was allowed listen to nothing else for 72+ hours straight. If I changed the song, they would straight up banshee scream until I put it back on.

Eventually, I showed Bean MTT’s boss battle and we listened to the Man on the Internet cover of the song as well. (This was the only variation I got in listening to the same song for almost a month.)

For Bean’s six month well check, Dada and I decided to get them a plush of Mettaton mostly as a joke. We figured we’d put it in a keepsake box to give to them after they graduated high school.

Nope. They imprinted on it! Ton-ton had to go everywhere. This was to the point we felt the need to get them a second one for their birthday in case Ton-ton the original got lost or came unstuffed.

I’ve found my Bean’s bond with MTT to be kind of interesting. I’m the primary “stay at home” caregiver to Bean, but I’m an actor and writer on the side. I’m also a relatively femme-looking transmasc person. So, sometimes, seeing them holding, cuddling, and just now starting to talk to MTT like a best friend makes me kind of emotional. I see their empathy for people who are different. I see the kind of love that I’m fostering in them for my community. I have hope for the way Bean will accept me in their easy acceptance of the “KISS Doll” as my parents call him.

I’ve just moved back about 5-10 minutes away from my family after a long time running all over the country and state. That, and I just came out to all of my family this year. There’s been some good moments in that and some very painful ones.

Dada (my spouse) and I started playing Undertale around Spring of 2023. My spouse hasn’t really played the game in any significant way, but we started with True Pacifist because life is too sad to do anything else. We’re only just getting into Waterfall because, as new parents, we don’t have a lot of free time.

But, I’m looking forward to meeting Mettaton again. Because, as weird as it sounds, I feel like I owe him an apology.

When I first played the game, I wanted to kill Mettaton … so badly. I hated him because, in a way, he reminded me of me. So, I figured killing him would feel like killing the part of me that I hated. I knew I couldn’t really do anything to myself without hurting the people I loved in ways I didn’t want to - I might have been self-centered at times, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t just leave. But, I was playing with my friend at the time and she was very adamant about playing True Pacifist and nothing else. (I also managed to get a spoiler about what happens to Alphys if you kill Mettaton and that really put me off it because Alphys was my favorite.)

But, in many ways, I hated Mettaton in the ways I hated myself. He was merely a stand in for me.

I “ran away” from home and changed my identity.

I upset my family.

I could be over dramatic.

I had my manic moments.

I wanted fame in my writing and my performance, and I wasn’t shy (or all that humble) about sharing my big dreams (or my talents there in).

So, I look forward to meeting him again because I owe that trans masc robot an apology for hating him so much.

For, through the eyes of my child, (through no expectation or conscious thought of Bean’s own) I’ve learned to love myself all because of a silly techno song and an Etsy plush.

But, it all started with a lovely little game 8 years ago. So, thanks Toby Fox. Happy Birthday Undertale.

[amourlyns]

hi lovely! I read through your blog and saw you wrote for apex! it's really a hyperfixation at this point!! would you mind if you could write a oneshot with Mirage with a massive crush on an gn!actor!reader? they sit with him a lot outside of the games and go over lines and monologues with him; just a very extroverted and open person... until they get on stage with Mirage and they have to compliment each other for one of Fuse's jokes at a sort of open mic thing? thanks for fulfilling this if you do, and have fun with it! I hope it wasn't too specific-- regardless, have a lovely day and take care of yourself!! much luv <33

⠀ 「 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 」

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ One thing leads to another and now you’re confessing your feelings to him.

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Elliot 〞Mirage 〞Witt + gn actor!reader

✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀This request is sooo cute omg … I love this sm, tysm for requesting 🤍 also, this posted and I wasn’t finished with it yet ): ➜    masterlist

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None

⠀ ★ ⠀ | ELLIOT FELT LIKE WAS BURNING UP from your touches, they were free, loose and careless. You’d throw your limbs on him hazardously, falling into a fit of laughter. You found of his cheesy jokes funny.

He couldn’t help but smile, his heart was going a million miles per hour right now. And your eyes lingering on his face didn’t help him with the feelings arising in his chest, his heart felt like it was going to burst.

Sometimes, he wondered if you knew what you were doing to him, he was a stuttering, chuckling mess. The poor guy couldn’t help get nervous around you, he felt stressed out and excited at the same time.

He’d talk a little too much when he was around you… it made him self conscious… but it always got his adrenaline going. Now today? Today, Elliot really thought he was going faint on the spot. Apparently, the games thought it would be amazing for you and Elliot to have an open mic night with Fuse.

Well they were wrong. Elliot couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat while they were doing his hair and makeup, all he could do was glance over at you. And god you looked good, a soft smile plays on his lips.

It’s not long before everyone completes their make up. Bright light shine on the stage, the set is similar to talk show, wally takes a seat in the middle while you sit in the right chair. Elliot decides to take a seat in the left.

Conversation flows pretty easily between the three of you. You’d talk about your latest projects with a bright enthusiasm, Fuse and Elliot would listen intently. After you discussed your future works, you insisted on hearing about the games.

Everything about the games had you on the edge of your seat! Mirage would watch you with stary—eyes. Your enthusiasm only encourages the pair to continue talking. The discussion between you guys eventually simmers down, it’s not long before Fuse suggests something new…

Now, he may be an old dog but he could sense when someone fancied someone. And in this case it was Elliot, poor bloke couldn’t even utter a straight sentence around you. It was charming in a way though, all he needed was a little bit of encouragement… and Fuse could definitely do that.

From the corner of your eye, you see Fuse beckoning over a few of the members from the tech crew. They were all grinning.. what on earth was he planning? ❛ Listen here pups, we’re gunna do somethin’ a lil different! Ever heard of an open mic? We’re doin’ that hit uh.. Valentine’s Day addition. So compliment each other! ❜

This would be easy— you already complimented Elliot all the time, how hard could it be?.. you’d spare a a glance to the trickster only to be met with a soft blush. Was he nervous?

It was definitely unexpected— but actually pretty cute…you couldn’t pass up this opportunity. ❛ Easy! It’ll come real naturally to me anyways. I do this with him all the time! ❜ God, you were gonna be the death of him.

The first few rounds are cute— very light, they still have him stuttering and blushing but it’s nothing too bad right? Well he was wrong! It was his turn to compliment you and how was he supposed to do this without sound like a huge dork? With a crush.

❛ Alright, alright! you’re good I’ll give you that. But I’ve got one more compliment! ❜ you’d urge him on nodding frantically a soft smile played on his lips. What was holding him back? ❛ Dang, your acting is amazing! I’m hoping to see it in person? ❜ he messed that up big time… ❛ Hah! Elliot are you finally asking me out? It’s a bit informal but I’ve been waiting forever… ❜

He definitely wasn’t expecting that… but he scored a date with you!! Fuse was grinning ear to ear, that heaven sent angel! A few chuckles go around the studio. He must’ve looked like schoolboy confessing to his crush for the first time. I mean, he sure felt like it.

After the shoot was over. You dragged Elliot out, apparently you already had a date plan in mind. Flowers, dinner, a nice private walk with just to the two of you.. no paparazzi… no noise. What else could he ask for ?

[threewaysdivided]

I just wanted to say: I love your art and especially your banner rn by talos! also your fic as well thank you for creating everything that you do for people, it’s awesome!

Second: what’s something that you’ve been chewing on lately, story wise? What character conflict, or plot point can you tell me about (that doesn’t spoil too much of course)? I wanna hear your thoughts about the characters you write and your head-cannons on them too! Just spit some word vomit at me!

Thank you! 

My current banner art is actually a crop of the first paired piece I ever did to go with my Deathly Weapons fic.  (Specifically Chapter 11, which I still have a soft spot for since it’s one of earliest chapters that really let me lean into scratching the thing-I-haven’t-seen-too-often-in-fanfic itch.) 

I recently got my hands on a discounted Wacom (my digital art process got tanked a few years ago when my poor art-compatible hybrid tablet-laptop was tragically taken from us by a cracked motherboard) so I’m looking forward to getting into a faster art workflow again and maybe putting some new pieces out more easily.  I’d like to do more comic art pieces for the Chapter 18 mission, and there’s a silly little concept drawing for the planned Mission 5 that might be new-blog-banner material if it turns out nicely.  We’ll have to see how that goes.

As for what I’ve been chewing on story-wise lately… I’ve sort of been all over the place.  I’m still on burnout recovery so I’ve been letting myself move non-sequentially, working on the bits my brain feels like focussing on rather than trying to force creativity where the juice isn’t flowing.   (One of the things about being my type of writing-nerd is that “self-indulgent” for me means a story with plenty of material to analyse, which is very fun as a reader but has created a lot of work for myself as the writer.  As mentioned in another post, I have a full-blown TV-show-style story-bible for this one.)

Recently, my authorial ping-pong-ing has been going into a fair bit of spoiler territory.  There are some chunks of the Act III endgame plan which are underdeveloped in the specifics of what the big-boss bad-guys’ plan is, whether I want to involve the Anti-Ecto Acts more, and the logistics of both the counter-strategy our heroes are planning to use and how to make its more action-heavy parts look cool in writing.  When I’m not doing that I’ve been focussing a lot on the upcoming Wally-centric chapters, which are a set I’ve been wanting to keep schtum about since there’s a small potential spoiler mixed in and I don’t want to risk giving the game up or pre-setting people’s expectations before they have a chance to blind read (even if a few people have already made some close guesses in the comments).  It puts me in a bit of an odd-spot right now because the chapters I’m drafting are an immediate spoiler, the later sections I’m working on are a major spoiler and there’s a good chance that a lot of the character stuff going on in the middle won’t make a whole lot of coherent sense without prior context because of how I like to layer foreshadowing/development.

That said, Wally-centric chapters mean Wally thoughts, and of those I have plenty to share:

First of all, I want to establish that I really do like Wally as a character.  The DW chapter set comprising Flashpoints through to Equilibrium is going to explore and develop some of his flaws and insecurities, which means he isn’t going to be looking his best, but it’s not meant to be a Ron The Death Eater situation.  He’s just a complex person, and taking him warts and all means sometimes you have to get up close and personal on the warts.

Something that I’m maybe a bit over-conscious of when reviewing my DW story notes is worrying about letting Wally slide into just being punching-bag joke-fodder.  Wally is quippy, irreverent, a little tactless and prone to being a bit of an impulsive goober who sometimes gets possessed by teenage boner-brain, which makes him easy to fall back on as a default source of incidental levity (whether cracking the joke or being the punchline).  Because I’m now writing an 8-character ensemble where most non-focal characters only get a few lines per conversation, it’s easy for characters to slide into being defined by their strongest surface level trait(s)… and something I worry about with Wally is that his availability as a source of jokes runs the risk of Flanderisation into a disposable Scrappy/ Flirty Comic Relief, which isn’t his character.  Wally is actually really important – not just for his scientific book-smarts but for his perceptiveness, earnestness and ability to function as one of the emotional barometers for the squad – so I always have it in the back of my mind to make sure I include enough moments that actually demonstrate those qualities and the other characters’ appreciation of them/ their friendship, so that it counterbalances the more light-hearted goofery.

I think he’s walking the same tightrope as Sokka from Avatar: the Last Airbender – yes, he tends to take the L more often than the others for comedy purposes and sometimes he gets stuck with supremely dumb side-plots for the sake of tonal balance, but to claim that it’s the entirety of his characterisation really misses the point by a wide mile.

On that note, I actually really like the decision YJ!Animated decided to go with in its first and only season (ahem) in giving Wally a normal and functional family background.  I know that’s not the typical background for his comics counterparts (and no shade on other fan-writers who want to write AUs exploring the abuse dynamic, those are really interesting stories) but I think it was a smart deviation for the purposes of a large ensemble, and offered a fair bit of potential for cast-balance.  It lets him serve an important role as the normal one – not only as an easy window into what the current lives of ordinary middle-class civilians look like (which is good because ordinary people are who our heroes are donning the masks to protect) but also as a touch-stone for the others, most of whom either come from different cultures or from very atypical backgrounds.  Even if we discount the Impure Atlantean with military training, the ostracised White Martian and the Half-Alien clone-weapon, the other members of this line-up are an orphaned circus acrobat adopted by a billionaire, a girl from a dangerously dysfunctional criminal household where she was forced to fight her sibling, and a fledgling sorceress raised by an overprotective single Dad.  The others might intellectually understand what a “normal” childhood and family look like but they don’t necessarily know it as intuitively and intimately as Wally does.  That normality gives Wally the potential to be a more stable foundation for the others, a source of emotional contrast and of a necessary wholesome mundanity.  That is a good thing for the Team to have.  I think it also speaks volumes to the heart of his character.  For this Wally, the Flash and heroism weren’t an escape from a bad personal situation.  His life was actually pretty comfy and privileged - he didn’t experience a brutal wakeup to the injustices of the world or some other personal call to action.  This is a Wally who opted into the game because he loves the players and sincerely believes in their values and mission.  And while that might mean he has a more romanticised idea of what heroism entails – and will probably face some rough shocks down the line as that rosy vision runs into those more brutal realities – it also means he brings a sincere hopefulness to the job that is less hardened than a lot of his roughed-up, pre-jaded peers.  Underneath the teen sarcasm and surface-level lancer/smart-guy traits, this Wally has as much power to be a stealth-Heart as any of his Flash!counterparts.

Something else I find interesting when using Wally is how a lot of his strengths and flaws feed into each other – and I think this alternate backstory is part of it.  For all of his good heart Wally can come off as insensitive, and I think some of that could be read as a product of living a more charmed life.  I think he’s susceptible to a thing that a lot of real people do – universalising their own personal experience as the default – and that while he is canonically a geek and somewhat genre-savvy about hero cliches, he’s a geek about in-universe media so he probably doesn’t think to apply those tropes to “real people” like himself or his colleagues.  While this Wally is a skeptic, he’s not a cynic, and I think he might forget how much of an outlier he is in a world where things like living parents and loving parents are often mutually exclusive.  He’s smart enough to connect dots but there’s a little blind-spot where he simply might not think to until one of the others jabs an elbow into his ribs, because his default view on humanity is in some ways a little kinder than typical due to that small but still significant amount of privilege.

At the same time, Wally is also someone who has probably run into (or watched his mentor run into) a lamp-post at high-speed at least once in his career.  He contains multitudes and among those multitudes is an endless capacity for some absolute Looney-Tunes nonsense, which the world is 100% better off for having.

I love him, your honour.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

So, with all the horrid stuff coming your way, Ange, I'm going to sit and counter it all.

Now, to those of you who seem to be convinced that she owes you interaction, know this: Nobody helped her get any interaction when she started. She did it all on her own. Ange is a phenomenal writer, and a lot of us in the fandom know it.

Now despite this, she chooses to be supportive of new writers that she happens across.

Exhibit A: ME.

I started writing here in the fag end of March, so that's like 3-4 months that I've been here. Now I need you guys to know this - I'm 21 and I've just started my career as a writer [I plan, curate and write content in the digital marketing space in ENGLISH] and there have been many times over the last few months where I've been ridiculously insecure about my capabilities, and I've doubted whether or not I'm good at my job many times.

This has to do with the fact that I come from a non-English speaking country. I speak three different languages a lot more than I speak english - meaning, I'm bound to make mistakes. But there's not a lot of room for that when you're a professional.

Now, my english is not shitty by any means. Some may say it is really good. But here's the thing - there is a lot of colloquialism in the way I speak. There is the Indian way of speaking, and there's the native, international way of speaking. The Indian way of speaking is not far off - but I am a professional who writes content for an international digital space. I'll have to better myself. That's why I came here. I wanted a fun way to practice writing!

Now, enter Ange - for those of you who may not know, she's a native english speaker who writes for a living too, with considerable experience if I'm not wrong. She's my beta. She proofreads the ever-loving shit out of my work, and whatever you guys read - believe me. It was not that great when I sent it to her.

With every correction you make, you makes my writing better. I learn from you each time, and I freak about my stories with you. I literally do by side-by-sides for fun, just to see what you've changed and mentally kick myself coz "HOW THE HECK DID I NOT SEE THIS SOONER?"

I was hired at my job because my employer saw potential, but it was under the promise that I get better with each day. And you have no idea how much of an impact the kinks you iron out in my work have had on me and my writing. I trembled about posting here when I did for the first time, and now I'm confident enough not to beat myself and actually feel proud. Not just here, but at work too. A lot of it has to do with you, and I'm so glad that I write here because this was supposed to be a silly little hobby - but now it's more.

So NO. You guys are wrong. Not only is she insanely supportive of new writers on the block, she also goes above and beyond for anyone who wants help with their fics. She always takes care to give my work her very best, because I believe it's just who she is.

But you know what I had to do for it? I had to approach her. Nicely. Because what you give is what you get. I was nice enough to her, and she's given it back to me. There are many writers apart from me who'd gladly talk about how she's supported them too. Nice people, who were good to her.

So no, you don't get to feel entitled to her time and expect good treatment from her. Not when you never tried.

Now, to those of you who seem to be intent on being mean to her for no reason, saying stuff like she may not be cool IRL-

I have been ridiculously anxious and painfully self-conscious my whole life (thanks mum and dad.) It has seriously affected my outwardness, which is why I keep to myself here unless I have something nice to say about someone's writing.

I only regularly talk to a handful of people here because I like sticking to those I'm comfortable with, and Ange is easily one of those few. She's insanely understanding my timidness and makes it very easy for me to talk to her. She's part of the reason why tumblr is a safe space for me, and she is one of the few that I seek out to talk to here. She supported me when I had fandom drama, and I am more than thankful that I have her in my corner here.

Now I like to think that if she's that nice here, she could only be a 1000 times better IRL.❤️

So yeah, that's my piece. I'm glad you turned anon off ange. You deserve a happy space here, and I hope all the way to the moon and back that you get it. For all that you've been put through here, you deserve nothing else. Ilysm bb, have the day you deserve. You are so loved here.❤️🫂

Sam, this made me tear up. Thank you so much for your sweet words. You are truly one of the kindest souls I have ever had the pleasure of meeting on this hellsite, and I will gladly be your beta for as long as you're happy to put up with the glacial pace I edit at. I love you <3

[gotta-hug-em-all]

The end? or the beginning?

Hiya cuties! I’m uh… not used to writing in this sorta way, I usually post on other websites, but this one is kinda too long to put anywhere else. So you’re stuck with me blogging it instead! Hope that’s ok with all the fine residents of Rotomblr! Just some background, I can’t keep Pokemon because I didn’t pass the really easy yearly “are you smart enough to raise Pokemon '' competency exam. Like ya know, the one that like 99.9% of people pass? So I’ve been going around collecting hugs instead of Pokemon. Gym leaders each give me a challenge to do so I can hug their Pokemon, and today I did the final gym, Drayden’s. His was pretty simple: slay three dragons. More specifically, beat his three dragon type Pokemon in battle. So that’s what I was doing! I’m gonna be like really dramatic about it cuz that’s fun, but I promise I’m not making anything up. This is Jace Embrace letting you in to see his (very large sized) heart. Aaaanyways, without further ado, here’s the story of how I beat Drayden!

So it all started with a waiver. Standard stuff really, most of the time the stuff I do for fun is really dangerous, so you gotta sign away your right to like do stuff if you get hurt and stuff, but this one was like… way different. The agreement that the other person is trying to hurt you kinda makes it go to a whole nother level. I’d prefer if I didn’t die, after all, but also if I go out fighting a dragon type in my knight outfit, I guess that’d be a pretty fun way to go. This waiver was like at least 30 pages longer than all the other ones I’ve signed before. It’s that kinda anxiety I live for, the kind that makes me scared, the kind that makes me want to run away. Not running away is the best part. Standing my ground and telling myself I can do something even if my subconscious tells me I shouldn’t. Being the master of my own subconscious makes it all worth it. The only thing that brought me conscious resistance was the understanding that my friends, boyfriend, and Frank (A love variant Solosis I created on accident/on purpose) would miss me if I were gone. But I think just like people who go climbing and caving, they accepted that my hobby was dangerous, and supported me despite that baggage. Honestly… I can’t thank them enough for that. It’s been nice to have that off my shoulders, even if there was a time where it dragged me down so much I almost turned into someone I hated. But all that’s behind me by a lot now, I’m a new man (new femboy? Is that a saying people use?) now, and I couldn’t love myself more. Rough around the edges a bit, but hopefully that changes. I’m pretty damn hopeful it will, especially after the events of this story. Oh shit I got off track again, so I signed that waiver. It's so ironic that I feel the most alive when I put my life on the line, but I’ve found happiness in it.

The countdown rushed by, Drayden sent out his Fraxure first, I guess he was doing this gym leader style. I felt pretty confident about this, which for reasons I’ll get into later, was stupid. But that’s ok, stupid isn’t a dealbreaker, just an issue to work around. So I charged into combat, and of course this did not go super well. I am a human. Humans don’t have super special magic powers, they have super normal mundane powers, like calculus. I don’t know calculus and even if I did I don’t think it’d help me fight a dragon type. Anyways, I started getting my ass absolutely kicked, like so hard, like it hurt a lot. I tried to like… unlock my inner anime self, but obviously that doesn’t exist in real life so I kinda just looked like a dude shouting at a Fraxure while getting his ass beat first. Drayden wasn’t even giving commands, just sorta letting it fight like a Pokemon in the wild. I ended up getting knocked to the ground several times. 

Drayden honestly trains his Pokemon well, the rule was that I wasn’t allowed to faint, otherwise I’d lose the battle. Kinda like a normal Pokemon battle. He definitely trained it well cause I didn’t die, and it was definitely being soft. I think the goal was to get me to quit. After a few minutes of getting roughed up, I stumbled back, clutching my sword arm, which had been heavily wounded in the process. My sword was all the way across the room, and between it and me was the Fraxure. For the first time in the whole fight, Drayden barked out a command.

“Finish him. Dragon Tail.” There was nothing I could do. Simply put. It was faster than me, stronger than me, it had more stamina than me, even my tiny-ass brain could put that together. I was fucked. I didn’t run though. I never run. I stood my ground, holding up both arms, gritting my teeth as the movement brought stabs of pain to me. What was coming for me would hurt, I knew that, so I braced for that pain. As the Fraxure charged me at full speed, I heard a voice, but not with my ears, with my brain. It spoke loudly, with a deep and monotone voice, almost like a robot. “{Anomaly. On. Your. Six.}”

Before I could even look behind me, there was a burst of force I felt on my back. Not enough to move me, but enough to feel it. The Fraxure in front of me seemed to hit an invisible wall inches before its attack made contact, dropping to the ground, fainted. I gasped, shocked that I was still conscious. As I looked behind myself, Drayden returned his Fraxure to his pokeball. Behind me was a rather large Sigilyph, its patterns looked strange, its markings having much more complexity than what I was used to seeing on my adventures. Yet… it looked familiar to me. “{Anomaly I am… rather I was… the Keeper. I sense you do not recognize me. It has been 8 months since I last met with you face to face. I now wish to fight alongside you. I await a new purpose. To fight alongside you like the knights and Sigilyph of old. Let me aid you in combat. Now, and until we part.}” Not gonna lie. I kinda cried a lot. But I had to keep fighting. I ran up and hugged it, gasping in pain of course, my right arm was still injured. After a short hug, I stepped back. Suddenly, the Sigilyph’s eye began to glow a soft purple as I felt the pain in my arm fade away. It was definitely still wounded, I still couldn’t move it right, but at least it didn’t hurt. I looked behind me, back at Drayden. He gave me a smile under his white beard. What a GILF. I still don’t know if he knew this would happen, oh well.

Drayden threw out his second pokeball, letting out a hearty chuckle as a Druddigon appeared. I figured I should give a name to my first ever pokemon “I guess this is where the real battle starts. I’m gonna start calling you Squire, is that ok?” the Sigilyph responded “{Your wish is my command. You are right handed. For now, you will be left handed. Fight with your left arm as your right is wounded.}” Its eye began to glow again, and I could feel a weird sensation in my hands and head. Squire didn’t explain until later that handedness is determined by both genetics and the way the brain develops. He couldn’t change the way my body was genetically routed, but he could subtly rewrite my mind to make me temporarily ambidextrous, turning all my (admittedly low) sword muscle memory into muscle memory for a mirrored stance. I don’t quite understand it all, but I understand it enough to know it works. This weird feeling didn’t last long, and I was quickly snapped out of it by Drayden giving a command to his Druddigon.

“Druddigon, Revenge.” He ordered the pokemon, which caused it to charge me with brutal intent. From Squire, I once again heard his voice in my head “{Anomaly, I am casting the protective seal of reflection and the protective screen of light.}” Its patterns began to glow and shake, and two different translucent layers of energy surrounded me, as if to serve as a miniature forcefield clinging to my skin. I took up a defensive stance, knowing I still couldn’t dodge this attack either. It hit me with an all things considered quite forceful shoulder check, and I was sent flying across the battle arena. We weren’t using the two dragons for obvious reasons, so instead we were using a flat arena so I didn’t accidentally fall to my death. As I flew, I realized something. I wasn’t actually hurt all too bad. None of me felt broken, just a few cuts here and there. Time seemed to slow down as my mind was driven into overdrive. I heard Squire’s voice in my head once more. “{I have taken the liberty of temporarily increasing the speed at which your brain functions. I will also cast the seal of the tailwind to allow you to move faster so your body moves at the speed your mind thinks. This is how the knights of Relic Castle once fought. Fight with bravery and purity of heart. I will serve as your spotter.}”

My movement sped up once more as it beat its wings, causing a magical wind to press my body to move faster, catching up with my sped up mind. I was able to grab ahold of one of the rafters of the arena, slowing the impact and hanging from above. “Follow him, Night Slash” Drayden shouted at his Druddigon, which flapped its wings and began pursuit. It would normally be way faster than me, but with Squires assistance, I now fought with it on an even playing field. I still needed my sword, and I knew just how I’d get to it.

As the Druddigon flew into the air, I swung myself down from the rafters, landing feet first on its head, moving far faster than it expected. Its guard wasn’t up yet, so I was able to kick it in the snout with both my metal armored boots. Using its face as a springboard, I jumped off of it in the direction of my sword, the Tailwind carrying me until I was very close. I ran up and as I leaned down to snatch the sword, I felt a subtle suggestion in the back of my mind telling me to do a flip. So I did a flip, grabbing the sword in my left hand as I did. I’m glad I heeded the advice of the suggestion, since doing the flip allowed me to see what was behind me: a full speed charging Druddigon with a claw wrapped in darkness aimed directly at me.

In midair I raised my sword to parry the claw, in a movement the felt familiar but I knew I had never used. It was around this point I realized Squire wasn’t just watching me, he was helping me, teaching me moves on the spot I had never learned, giving me muscle memory that I’d never had before. The human body was versatile, I had never really thought about it much, but with Squire’s help covering for my statistical weaknesses I was able to employ these techniques, techniques used by knights of old, stored in the Sigilyph’s memory to help people like me fight. No wonder he followed me for so long. I had accidentally unearthed an ancient tradition that he was purpose-built to serve. His mental assistance was clearing up the brain fog that my ADHD caused, making it easier to enter the flow state. I could think clearer, coming to these realizations in the split seconds before the Druddigon struck at me. My sword parried the blow effortlessly, transferring the energy of the slash into the ground instead of my face, causing the Druddigon to let out a roar as it smashed its claw on the metal ground, making sparks fly.

“Dragon Tail.” Drayden barked orders at the Druddigon as I looked down at my sword. I was expecting the sword to be heavily damaged, but whatever protective barrier that Squire applied to me also had enveloped the sword, also strengthening its durability. Before the Druddigon could begin his attack, I began mine. I charged it with the tip of my sword pointed at it, unleashing a flurry of whirling slashes and stabs. From here on, I fell into a rhythm, my body almost moving on its own as I fought with my mind in tandem with Squire, using both its view and my view, a third person view and a first person view, an experienced mind and a brave mind. The Druddigon had thick hide that allowed it to shrug off most attacks, but by aiming for weak points and getting it to slam into walls, I eventually brought it down. 

Drayden sent out his final Pokemon, his Haxorous. This was his ace, I did do a little bit of research before the fight (watching one mewtube video that I fell asleep right before the midway point of), but Squire was bringing the knowledge of that video that I had passively absorbed to the forefront of my mind. I knew he would try to have it set up with Dragon Dance, then strike at me with Dragon Tail until it won. I could win if I didn’t allow it space to set up, so that’s exactly what I did.

The rest of the fight was a blur as I sunk into tactics, once again entering a trancelike state as I was assisted by Squire. Before I fully realized what was going on, I brought the Haxorus to the ground, finishing the fight by smashing the pommel of my sword into its head hard enough to knock it out. By now my sword, despite its increased durability, was heavily damaged, so I quickly sheathed it and bowed to Drayden in true fashionable Jace style. “Good fight! I had a lot of fu- oop…” I said as I suddenly felt all the strength drain from my body, causing me to fall to the ground. “{As a downside to increasing your speed and mental capacity… battles such as these will be very physically taxing on your mind and body. A good night’s rest will do you good, but for now just sit and take a breather.}” 

I laid there for a few minutes as Drayden approached me, withdrawing his Haxorus. Once I felt I was physically able, I sat up and reached a hand towards Drayden, which he knelt down to shake before picking me up like a baby and taking me to a bench for me to sit down on. “You fought well.” His normally ever-present glare had softened a bit, making him seem almost like a grandfather. “I will allow you to hug my Pokemon now, and I will grant you this badge. It’s not the normal badge we give, you will have to return and fight me in a Pokemon vs. Pokemon battle for that, but it is a badge. The Opelucid badge of honor. I don’t normally give these out to just any person who enters my gym, but you have shown outstanding courage, determination, and most importantly of all, kindness. You’ve made friends along the way in your journey and fostered relationships that will last you a lifetime should you cultivate them with great care. Your optimistic personality is admirable as well, for you shine as a light in other people’s darkness, although you might want to make sure that your light is not blinding, even legends have flaws and I urge you to keep that in mind as you continue your journey across Unova. Lastly… I’ll get to my point in all this. You have two Pokemon that would call you their master if you had the means to have them join your party. One of them is here, the other you have sent off to stay with someone else. Both of these could only exist in the way they do because of your love. I believe if you were allowed to raise them, you would do so far better than most trainers. I cannot change the current establishment to allow for people like you to prove yourselves, but I do intend to fund a project for people like you who struggled in school to get the help they need. Your story has taught me something valuable: sometimes all someone needs to be great is a little help here and there. I’m going to appeal to the league and ask that they give you a two month temporary license. I trust during this time you will study hard for your next exam. I believe in your ability to succeed this time. Keep your head held high Jace, I hope that one day you surpass me in strength.”

The rest of the day was a blur. There’s plans for me to get a whole ceremony celebrating my accomplishments and stuff. I won’t complain but I think it’s a bit much for little ol me… I plan to study hard like Drayden said. Squire has already agreed to help me, and I have convinced him to start calling me “Jace” or “Knight” instead of “Anomaly” so that’s cool. I look forward to my future. I might’ve failed my trainers license exam 9 times in a row, but I wasn’t built different back then. When I was on the journey back to the hotel room I was staying in with my boyfriend, we were talking about the trainer license exam. The conversation went a little something like this:

“Do you think you can learn enough to pass in two months? It’s been a while since you’ve been to school.”

“If I were to take the whole exam in one sitting… it might be a little tough.”

“Would you fail?”

“Nah, I’d pass.”

[tryst-art-archive]

Before I put the dA descript, allow me to add the context that "Shout It Out" was an art meme that went around dA in late '07. The idea was to make vent art where you got the things you don't usually say out of your system, using a particular format.

To summarize: When I tried to do the Shout It Out meme, I short-circuited. I sat on this thing for months (which is evidenced in the archive, too) because I couldn't decide about putting the things I wanted to shout into the piece.

I remember I filled several pages of a large sketchbook with things to write into the piece. I haven't looked at it in a few years, but I remember the last time I did, it was pretty triggering stuff. It was very raw, and I was in a lot of (emotional) pain when I wrote it.

The choice to post this as a loud silence was very deliberate, although obviously I waffled about it. Whatever I may say in the description, the loud silence was supposed to be emblematic of how much I felt I couldn't say, for fear of upsetting the people around me or because I inevitably wouldn't be understood. In some cases, it was a physical inability. There have been many times when I've tried to express something vulnerable only to have my throat physically close up and prevent me from doing so.

I'm not going to look for the sketchbook write-up of what was supposed to be here, but I do have some of the notes digitized. A selection of those are below the cut.

But this is the most important one: "I almost wish I had been born a gay man; I don't know why."

"I HATE SCHOOL but I'm an HONORS STUDENT so I'll go to college anyway."

"I HATE MYSELF and have for a long time."

"I MAKE UP EXCUSES and BLAME OTHERS for my FAILURES and SHORTCOMINGS because I can't bear to shoulder the responsibility myself."

"I am FUCKING HORNY all the FUCKING TIME."

"I fear abandonment."

"I GAVE UP on art for the same reason I QUIT gymnastics and swimming when I was LITTLE; IT STOPPED COMING EASILY TO ME."

"I FEEL GUILTY about being UNHAPPY."

"I NEVER LOVED another person UNTIL I MET MARE; that's why she's my best friend."

"The PLAY Pippin SCARES ME BECAUSE IT DESCRIBES ME."

"I am convinced that I'm the only person who feels as I do despite all evidence to the contrary."

"I LIKE MEN, but I feel like no one knows it."

"I AM AFRAID TO POST THIS; I AM AFRAID TO WRITE IT DOWN. For every one thing I say, I have left 3 things unsaid."

"No one can "read" me. I put on so many acts and masks that I am not sure who I am or when I'm really being sincere."

"I am self-conscious about everything; I fear being disliked."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY 'NO,' and I KNOW that it will get me in trouble one day."

"I can't draw or write anything pornographic because it embarrasses me."

"I AM INSECURE, but nobody seems to know it."

"I WANT TO LOVE SOMEONE ENOUGH TO LIVE FOR THEM; Dying would be too easy."

"I AM EASILY OVERRIDDEN; I AM A DOG ON A LEASH"

"KNOW THAT WHEN I PROTEST, I AM FIGHTING MYSELF TO DO SO."

"PLEASE KNOW WHAT I WANT AND NEED because I cannot make myself say even if it's something as simple as a glass of water."

"I think that I will be a terrible mother. I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE A DAUGHTER."

"LET ME SLEEP UNTIL WE GET TO THE GOOD PARTS!"

"I MAKE THINGS HARD FOR MYSELF and I don't know why."

"I REFUSE TO LET PEOPLE SEE ME cry."

"I want you to think 'There is a girl who truly hurts, but, oh, see how she triumphs despite!' in admiration."

"I don't know what I'm going to do next year"

"I feel OUT OF PLACE with other people; that's why I'm antisocial."

"I DO NOT BELIEVE IN AN AFTERLIFE AND I NEVER HAVE not even when I was small."

"LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SPEAK, GODDAMIT!"

"I wish I were OMNISCIENT."

"I REGRET almost everything."

"I DON'T EXPECT TO EVER BE HAPPY, I ONLY HOPE I WILL BE."

"I LOVE VIDEOGAMES AND WISH TO BE RECOGNIZED FOR IT."

"I fear blindness, deafness, old age, balding, and becoming ugly. I fear forgetting."

"I almost wish I had been born a gay man; I don't know why."

"I like girly, pretty shoes. I never buy any because I know I'll wear them all of once if I ever wear them at all."

"I like songs that RELEASE ME."

"I have trouble expressing myself."

"I miss my childhood, but I also realize that I've romanticized it in my head."

"I believe people are basically rotten at heart."

"I HAVE DOUBLE STANDARDS."

"Without people to say 'It's time for dinner,' I probably wouldn't eat just out of laziness."

"I'm afraid that I'm annoying."

"I’M SHY. I don’t do half the shit I want to.I’M A GOOD GIRL. I don’t do half the shit I want to.I’M A GOOD LIAR. So I get away with doing the half that I do do."

"iBottle."

"NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I FEEL LIKE I DON'T BELONG."

"I'm afraid to say 'I wish...' because I'm worried that my wish will come true."

[opinion-haver]

these replies perfectly summarize how we got to the issue of devaluing human connection in the first place and how this post is pretty much exacerbating the issue:

“yall are so dumb” - this sentiment writes off an entire population of people who are struggling. literally destroying human connections directly. and i think that in and of itself is dumb

“this is sooooo dystopian” -its pretty obvious how people running to ai therapists fullblown sucks and is dystopian but one must not forget that pointing at an issue isnt actually addressing it, especially when the comparison is rooted in nostalgia.

“these people are pitiful”- another strain of thinking people are so dumb. its patronizing. if you cant find shared humanity— if you cant see within yourself a version that would succumb, you dont understand the problem.

honorable mention: the tools introduced above lend a very fun look into how ineffectual the system is and how these tools dont address at all the reasons why one would speak to an ai therapist in the first place.

worksheets: if i was going through a breakup or panic attack or some shit equivalent you would be absolutely kidding me to think that i would open up a worksheet. im suicidal not a masochist. zero humanity in that response.

chart-games: i find these useful, i even made a modified in-browser personal guide just for myself. but the issue is that most of the times conscious malaise isnt often cured by just eating or drinking just because you forgot. and thats if you remember to go to the website when youre doing badly in the first place. if im in hell im checked the fuck out.

finch: as a daily user of finch, i know directly how helpful this tool can be. it pairs the dopamine rush of games with executive function, like so many other gamified trackers out there. i like the data analysis personally, reflections are so useful to knowing yourself from day to day. but its very much trying to monetize your self care. to gate some of its tools behind a premium subscription because (paraphrase) “you deserve self care” is insidious as hell. and the ways it treats you is patronizing. i know youre dressing up a cartoon bird but i dont think helping the bird discover it likes baby shark is particularly salient to the aging tumblr userbase

ok so ive complained a whole lot. but in order to put money where my mouth is, whats the solution?

well obviously! to foster human connection of course. if these people dont know what real human connection is like its because nobody has BEEN real human connection for them. and vice versa— if you strawman these people into mindless idiots then clearly you dont understand their psyche.

in lieu of an ai therapist, reach out to a gd friend.

if you dont got friends, go make em. its ez. outside is easiest— show up to some kind of local thing or the other. it doesnt have to mesh with you completely but learning about Hetero Jessicas worklife balance is way more illustrative of human reality than chatgpt. but outside is not the only way. go ping someone random. get over the initial fear. fall in love with strangers. learn about their cats and trade cat pictures or some shit. its not easy but its worth it. hell, if you want to dm me i might even reply, if im not busy.

solidarity saved me. it can save you too.

guys. please

[karlachismylife]

Dont feel bad about making content you like! I love your x readers sure and I can't wait for some of the X Reader stuff you've been working on to be updated. But you should also enjoy yourself, I personally am iffy on fandom mingling but not because I think it's bad. I think the hate rare pairs get these days or cross-fandom shipping hate stems from people who had never participated in fandom joining the fandom spaces in 2020 who now have made all these rules around everything including stuff like rare pairs and cross-fandom shipping. Like everywhere but Tumblr absolutely rags on stuff like that now because we can't have fun anymore. Keep shipping and making content you enjoy :D

Hello, darling, this is such a nice message, thank you a lot! Kinda feel a little awkward that I have so many people reassuring me when for me it was just another mood swing and no big deal in the grand scheme of things, but I won't lie, this is very comforting.

I guess I just feel bad that I "abandoned" something that was more personal in favour of the thing that gives me more feedback/validation? Luckily I don't get any hate on my rarepair, but I don't get nowhere nearly as much feedback on it wither, even if we compare like a Karlach x Soap work that's fully fleshed out and some x reader headcanons that I literally pulled out of my ass in 40 minutes because adhd go brr. Of course it feels good to know that I'm capable of making someting enjoyable for people even at rapid speed (and I certainly put love in the quick thingies too, I cannot write without love), but then I sit and think like. Yeah I guess I am incapable of making anyone interested in something really personal like Karlach x Soap? Cuz what? Cuz I suck? Cuz I'm not good enough? Cuz I can't convey how much love I feel for the rarepair and infect people with it?

It's all bullshit in my head, honestly, cuz I know there are people that enjoy them, and that there are other crossfandom shipping freaks (what's up rise of the brave tangled frozen dragons), but I'm just sometimes real self-conscious about everything I do cuz like. Boohoo you feedback slut, abandoning your passion project/rarepair for the easy shiny thing. And it's dumb, because I love what I do for x reader, you love what I do for x reader, why can't I just have fun with you? I dunno. I just hate fun I guess /jk

Anyway, sorry for rambling and going off topic, I want to thank you again from the bottom of my silly heart for enjoying whatever you enjoy that I do. Be it one work, one series, some other random bullshit or my four am polls about stabbing people with forks - I am so happy I have you to share them. I just need to stop ruining my own happiness.

Also side note, I have a fuckton of ideas/wips (that list I posted recently? only got bigger), so if you're waiting for something particular, it's okay to reach out to me and ask (ofc if you're being polite, but you're clearly very kind and nice to me already, so I trust you'll be the sweetest). I basically jump from one thing to another with no system at all, so having a slight direction will be nice. I feel good when I know I make other people feel good, so requests are welcome ^^