#like its kind of a little simple but in a really enjoyable way

[preydefiler]

fuck YES I found a therapist that accepts our state healthcare at 100% cost holy shit thank god. anyway that means I don't have to leave the house today now back to monster sanctuary

[bangtanbeom]

'*•.¸undeniably yours¸.•*'

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / bonus ୨♡୧ pairing: beomgyu x femreader genre: fluff, strangers to friends to ....? , college AU, slow burn summary: you and beomgyu are partnered for a group project, the connection starts off as simple friendship. but as you share quiet moments, unspoken glances, and moments of vulnerability, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur. w/c: ~4k warnings: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor a/n: its been 10 years since i last wrote something (which was on wattpad) and actually published lol so many drafts ;-; so bear with me. i usually don't write fluff, i always leaned more to angst or smut yet here i am. i hope it's a little bit enjoyable <3

it wasn't love at first sight.

there were no sparks flying across the room, no fireworks, no swelling background music with flower petals twirling and glitters shimmering.

just a tuesday morning lecture, and a pair of tired eyes locking briefly across the room before looking back down at a notebook.

"i've assigned the partners already," the professor said, tapping his laptop. "check your emails."

you opened yours with a sigh, not expecting much. then paused.

partner: choi beomgyu

"huh?"

beomgyu? that guy who always sat in the third row by the window? who always wore those oversized hoodies, and had a habit of twirling his pen when he was deep in thought?

beomgyu. that guy with the soft brown eyes and the eternal bedhead. the one who always had a half-smile playing on his lips as your eyes met. you'd shared a few classes before, exchanged nods and awkward hellos in group discussions, but never really talked.

until now.

you agreed to meet at a nearby cafe the next day—neutral territory. the project was due in 15 weeks, and you didn't want to be the partner who slacked off. you arrived first and chose a small table by the window. you heard the soft jingle of the door and looked up just in time to see beomgyu walk in, ruffling his hair and looking around until his eyes landed on you.

he offered you a small wave, walking over with a grin. "hey."

"hey, beomgyu." you returned, sending him a kind smile.

"that's me." he slid into the chair across from you. "sorry if i'm late. i had to rescue my hoodie from my roommate's dog. he thinks it's his now."

you laughed before you could stop yourself. "did you win the battle?"

"barely. this is a peace offering," he said, holding up a slightly crumpled banana milk. "also, i brought you one. it's not coffee, but it's got charm."

you blinked, surprised. "you brought me one?"

"figured i should start off as a decent partner," he said with a casual shrug. "if you hate banana milk, i'll take it back and cry about it later."

"i like it," you chuckled softly and sent him a smile. "thanks."

your first meeting was mostly small talk and note-sharing. beomgyu was surprisingly organized, though he admitted he did most of his work at 2 a.m.

"that's when i'm the most powerful." he said with a mock serious face, earning a laugh from you.

both of you got to work quickly—organizing tasks, dividing responsibilities, setting deadlines. it was professional. efficient. but something about the way beomgyu spoke—soft and easy, laced with dry humor—made you feel oddly comfortable.

he wasn't trying hard. he didn't have to.

but what struck you the most was how easily he listened as much as he talked. he wasn't just nodding along. he remembered things, like how you preferred tea over coffee, or that you hated typing on your laptop without music playing.

by the end of that first meeting, you'd laughed more than you had all week. that was the first moment you realized he wasn't what you expected. not just the class clown or the guy who wore headphones walking down the hallway.

thoughtful, a little odd and disarming in a weirdly comforting way.

the collaboration soon settled into a comfortable rhythm. study sessions alternated between the library, the cafe, and occasionally, each other's homes. each meeting, their conversations began to drift beyond the confines of their project.

both sitting on the floor of beomgyu's living room, while his roommate was away and surrounded by open books and notes, beomgyu strummed his guitar absentmindedly.

"you play?" you asked, nodding towards the instrument.

he glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. "a little. it's more of a hobby."

"can i hear something?"

he hesitated for a moment, his fingers softly grazing the strings. "alright, but no judging."

you nodded and his fingers danced over the strings, producing a soft melody that filled the room. you watched, captivated by the way he immersed himself in the music. as the final note lingered, you clapped softly.

"wow," you said under your breath, afraid to break the silence. "that was beautiful."

beomgyu's ears turned pink, luckily for him, his hair covered most of his ears. "thanks. it's just something i do to unwind."

"do you write your own songs?"

"sometimes," he admitted. "mostly when i can't sleep."

you leaned forward, intrigued. "i'd love to hear one sometime."

he met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "maybe one day."

"so, tell me something weird about you." beomgyu said as he was scrolling uninterestedly through his phone.

beomgyu was sitting on the couch, leaning with his back against the arm rest and his feet resting on your lap.

you looked up from your phone, turning your head to him as you raised an eyebrow. "weird how?"

he shrugged casually, putting his phone down, meeting your gaze. "like... you eat cereal with water, or you sing to your houseplants. something unexpected."

you grinned. "okay. i have this very serious superstition that i have to wear mismatched socks on exam days."

beomgyu blinked. "you... what?"

"they bring me luck!" you quickly defended yourself, but couldn't help but laugh a little.

"that's extremely specific. i like it." he said, his fingers touching his chin as he nodded.

"your turn," you challenged.

he thought for a moment. "sometimes i talk to my laundry."

you frowned your eyebrows before you burst out laughing. "your laundry?"

"yeah, like if i'm folding a shirt and it refuses to cooperate, i'll scold them, or just yell at them."

you clutched your stomach, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "you are—wow." before you could finish your sentence, you began to laugh even harder.

he was now reenacting the scene.

"i'm never looking at laundry the same again." you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing.

beomgyu was effortlessly funny, the kind of person who could make you laugh without even trying. he'd mimic professors, come up with ridiculous nicknames, or read lines from their textbook in dramatic accents just to see you smile.

"wait, you've never watched spirited away?" beomgyu asked one evening, scandalized. "we need to fix that. immediately."

"i just never got around to it," you defended. "you're making it sound like i committed a crime."

"you kind of did." he grinned. "movie night. right now."

you rolled your eyes, but your lips slowly curved into a smile, betraying you. "fine. but i'm picking snacks."

the group project finished early. neither of you mentioned it, but you kept meeting up anyway.

it was the little things that began to chip away at the wall around your heart. the way he'd always wait for you outside class, even when it wasn't necessary.

how he remembered your favorite drink and brought it to study sessions without asking. the way he looked at you when you laughed—like you were something he'd been waiting to see bloom.

and it was how he didn't rush it.

even when your fingers brushed for a second too long, or when you stood closer than necessary, or when the silence stretched a little too comfortable—beomgyu never pushed.

he just let it happen, slowly, unforced, easy.

after a particularly grueling study session, both of you decided to take a break. the city lights shimmered as you wandered through the quiet streets, hands tucked into both of your pockets as the hot summer came to an end and the rainy fall was approaching.

"do you ever feel like you're going through the motions?" beomgyu asked, his breath visible in the cold air.

you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden introspection. "sometimes. university can feel like that. but then there are moments that remind me why i'm here."

"like what?"

you thought for a moment. "like this. walking through the city, just talking. it makes everything feel... real."

he smiled softly. "yeah..."

you walk in silence for a while, the distance between you two narrowing with each step. his shoulder brushed yours once, then again, but neither of you moved away.

you found yourself on beomgyu’s couch as the rain pattered against the window, a classic film playing on the tv. you curled up with a blanket, while beomgyu sat beside you, your shoulders touching.

the room smelled faintly of buttered popcorn and cinnamon tea.

beomgyu had taken over the popcorn bowl, cradling it like some priceless artifact in his lap. he was deeply focused on it. more so than the movie, picking through the pieces like a kid separating marshmallows from cereal.

you arched a brow. "are you seriously removing all the unpopped kernels?"

beomgyu didn't even glance up. "yes. they're a menace. one wrong bite and it's over. i have sensitive molars."

you laughed and shook your head slightly. "you're so dramatic."

"i'm a victim of snack sabotage," he said with a solemn nod. "you wouldn't understand."

he looked up then— eyes shining, lips curled in that typical lazy grin of his—and you blinked, caught off guard by how different he looked like that, handsome even. like summer even though it was raining. like something warm even though the windows fogged with the cold.

you shook your head and grabbed a handful of popcorn from his 'safe pile.'

"thief," he accused, his lips slightly parted as his eyes followed your hand full of his popcorn.

"you owe me for picking the movie," you said casually through a mouthful.

"which, by the way, was way too sad." he responded witty , looking down at his safe pile that was looking much smaller now, a pout growing on his lips.

"hey. you voted for it!" you said defensively.

"i was tricked."

"you literally said—and i quote—'that one has cool vibes.'"

beomgyu gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "i did not sound like that."

"oh you did."

the laughter bounced around the room like the rain outside, soft and constant. the movie flickered on, mostly forgotten now, serving as a backdrop to something that felt... safe.

beomgyu leaned back on the couch, stretching until his arm rested casually along the back, his fingers inches from your shoulder. not touching. almost.

you pretended to focus on the screen, but you couldn't help but notice how close he was. how normal it felt.

how not-normal that normal felt.

when did it become this easy to be around him? when did he start looking like that?

beomgyu glanced over at you just then, mid-thought, and you caught him. his hand twitched like he might move it closer—then didn't

he grinned instead. "you've got popcorn salt on your cheek."

you blinked. "i do not."

"you do."

you tried wiping your face with the back of your hand.

"nope, other side."

you tried again. he squinted dramatically.

"closer," he teased. "warmer... almost... oh no. now it's smeared."

"seriously?"

he leaned in then, brushing his thumb lightly across your cheekbone. just a second. just enough.

"got it."

you froze. not from the touch, exactly—but from how something about it lodged itself under your ribs and stayed there.

that shouldn't have felt like anything, you told yourself.

but it had.

beomgyu didn't move away immediately. he looked at you, eyes scanning like he was trying to solve a puzzle. like he was trying to read you.

he wasn't smiling anymore, not really. it wasn't serious, but it wasn't just playful anymore.

why do i keep noticing the way she looks at me? why does her laugh sound like something i want to hear first thing in the morning?

that moment hung there—brief, silent, almost something.

the you grabbed a pillow and whacked him, maybe a little too hard.

"okay that was dramatic. you made it a whole moment."

he barked out a laugh, delighted, instantly recovering, his head tilted to the side. "i was being helpful! you're lucky i didn't use a napkin like an old man."

you narrowed your eyes. "you definitely would've done the whole spit-on-the-thumb thing, huh?"

beomgyu gasped. "do i look like a mom at a school drop-off?"

you looked him up and down pointedly. "you do own a cardigan that says otherwise."

he placed a hand to his chest, fake-offended. "that cardigan is a fashion statement."

"it's a threat to society."

he snatched a handful of popcorn and launched a piece at you. it bounced of your blanket.

"you're just jealous," he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you wish you looked that cozy."

"i do look cozy," you said smugly, hugging the bowl to your chest now like it was a trophy. "and now this popcorn's mine."

"oh you think i'm gonna let that slide?" he said inching closer.

you tightened your grip. "don't test me."

your eyes locked in mock-serious challenge. then, without warning, beomgyu lunged. both wrestling over the bowl like two kids at a sleepover, laughing so hard, barely holding it together.

limbs tangled, the blanket twisted, and somewhere in the chaos, your hand ended up resting against his chest, and his leg slid beside yours, warm and solid.

both of you froze—not on purpose, but as if something instinctual told you this was different. the laughter trailed off in small, breathless remnants, but neither of you moved right away.

you looked up, realizing how close you were. his hair was a little messy now. he was smiling—but softer. not his usual teasing, lazy grin.

your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his hoodie before you pulled them back.

beomgyu didn't say anything. he just shifted onto his elbow, resting his head in his hand, watching you as you sat up and set the popcorn down beside the couch.

the room was still. not awkward nor heavy. just full of something unspoken.

you turned towards the screen, tucking your legs underneath you again.

"you're not so bad for a popcorn snob." you said lightly, not looking at him.

"thanks," he replied, his voice softer now. "you're not so bad for a popcorn thief."

the both of you sat in silence again, this time more aware of it. more aware of each other.

it was supposed to be a quick study session. an hour, maybe two. just enough to finalize the concept sketches and finish your part of the layout. you'd done most of the work already—beomgyu had helped a lot more than you expected him to, even stayed up late editing the small mistakes you made when you were too tired to keep your eyes open.

so when he texted you that afternoon—

"you free to review the last presentation slides? i promise i'll bring snacks + my charming presence."

—you'd rolled your eyes and typed short yes.

unfortunately, the rainy season wasn't over yet. today the rain started like a whisper, then turned into a roar.

it poured down so hard, you could barely see the street from your window.

thirty minutes later, he was standing in your doorway,

drenched.

like fully soaked. hair flat. hoodie sticking to his arms. his sneakers squelched when he stepped inside.

he looked half amused, half miserable.

you blinked, your eyes traveling over him from head to toe. "did you walk here?"

beomgyu nodded, blinking rain from his lashes. "i was halfway when the sky opened up."

"why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"i was trying to be dramatic."

you stared at him.

he smiled sheepishly. "also... i forgot."

you sighed, shaking your head, already turning to grab a towel.

he wasn't planning on getting caught in a storm, but maybe, deep down, he wanted an excuse to stay longer.

the professor gave the class another project, but you both finished it, mostly.

but that wasn't the reason he'd wanted to come over.

he liked your apartment. the plants in teacups. the art prints taped to the walls instead of framed. your weird little snack drawer organized by mood. it all felt warm, like you lived in comfort space, like you weren't trying to impress anyone.

and he liked your company, though he was still figuring out what to do with those thoughts about you that kept popping occasionally.

he liked the way your mind worked. the way you made things feel calm yet entertaining.

so yeah, he walked through the storm. and maybe he didn't care.

"guess i'm stranded." he said as you returned, holding a towel and a worn grey sweatshirt in your arms.

you tossed both at his chest.

"you're lucky i'm nice." you muttered, turning around, back to the living room.

he caught the sweatshirt midair and laughed, peeling off his soaked hoodie. "no, i'm lucky it's you."

you didn't answer him. you didn't want to read too much into it. beomgyu said things like that. he flirted for fun.

but your heart noticed.

he also didn't usually look at you like that.

you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up when he pulled your sweatshirt over his head. it looked better on him than it did on you, of course. and something about seeing him in it made the room feel smaller. closer.

you turned away and focused on making tea.

the rain hadn't stopped. it got heavier.

by that time, you both ended up on the couch under the blankets, the storm had turned the apartment into a little cave—safe, warm, cut off from everything else.

the tea steamed gently on the table. the movie played, but neither of you were paying attention. you sat shoulder to shoulder, legs tucked up, knees barely touching.

and still, you could feel him. every little shift. every glance.

you saw him look at you once. then again. and a third time.

"hey," he said, eyes on the screen, voice barely above a whisper.

you turned your head slightly. "hm?"

"i'm really glad we got partnered together." he said referring to early spring.

he wasn't sure why he said it. but he did.

thump, thump.

you weren't sure why your heart was speaking before your mind could process everything.

maybe for him, it was because the rain softened everything. maybe it was because the blanket was warm and you were warm and something about being near you made everything easier.

but he meant it.

he didn't look at you, his gaze still glued to the tv. still, he felt you turn slightly towards you.

"me too," you said, and there was a smile.

that did something to his chest, a tiny smile growing on his face.

"you know, i used to think you were kind of quiet," he said, trying to keep his tone light. you raised a brow. "but you're actually... kind of weird."

you elbowed him softly. "what... thanks, i guess?"

beomgyu grinned. "no like... you say weird stuff. the thing with your mismatched socks, talking to your plants like they're your babies. your enormous snacks collection based on your mood. but it's cool. it's interesting."

you didn't say anything, more like not knowing what to say. so you just looked at him.

your eyes, soft, kind. more than words ever could.

"your sweatshirt smells like you," he murmured, completely out of nowhere. "like laundry and cinnamon."

your heart flipped.

"that was almost romantic," you teased, pretending to be unbothered by your heart, almost jumping out of your ribcage.

he reached for his tea, brushing your hand in the process. sipping from his mug, his eyebrows dancing. "almost?"

"try harder next time."

he laughed, but his heart stuttered, ‘next time?’ he thought to himself. why did i even say that. hiding his thoughts behind a smile.

from his perspective, you didn't seem to mind, you didn't make it weird. thankfully

the thunder cracked louder now, rattling the windowpane.

you checked the forecast on your phone and frowned. "yeah you're not going anywhere."

beomgyu looked up from where he had flopped dramatically across your couch, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his forehead.

"tragic," he said, voice dry. "guess i'll have to endure your tea and fluffy blankets a little longer."

you gave him a look. "endure?"

he looked at you with his usual playful grin, hugging a throw pillow like it was a long-lost pet. "okay, luxuriate inn. happy?"

"ecstatic," you said, tossing him a second pillow to the face.

he caught it swiftly and immediately started building a pillow wall between you. "this is for my safety."

"from what?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"you. you're feisty when sleep-deprived. remember your mood last week."

"you literally tried to eat expired instant noodles last week."

"and i survived, didn't i?" he said proudly and had a smug smirk on his face.

"barely."

"i am a man of mystery. i live on the edge."

"you live on convenience store snacks." you said and rolled your eyes. you pushed yourself off from the couch and his attention was now on you.

"you want me to grab something to sleep in?" you asked, voice soft with sleep.

he gave you a thumbs up from under the pillow fortress.

you came back with a pajama pants covered in tiny frogs, dropping it on his lap.

beomgyu's eyes lit up as he noticed the frogs. "i bet i'll still look handsome in this." his tone layered with confidence.

you rolled your eyes and shook your head slightly.

"whatever. i'm going to bed." you said after grabbing him a couple more blankets, since it was getting colder.

beomgyu nodded and prepared the couch to a comfortable bed.

"goodnight frog boy," you mumbled as you were walking towards your bedroom.

"goodnight popcorn thief." he said back. he was already laying comfortable, under the blankets and pillows.

the morning sunlight crept through the clouds, pale and hesitant casting a soft glow. the storm had finally passed.

you stirred awake to the faint clink of dishes and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.

beomgyu.

you blinked a few times, sitting up slowly. your hair was a wild mess around your face. a yawn escaped from your lips and you pushed yourself up from your bed.

you padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes. "what are you doing?"

beomgyu turned around, spoon in his mouth and a box of cereal tucked under his arm like a prized possession. his hair was fluffy now, dry but still unbrushed, sticking up like he'd rolled straight from the couch into the pantry.

he pulled the spoon out and shrugged. "breakfast obviously."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "you have your own place."

"you don't have plain boring cornflakes," he said, lifting the box of choco rings slightly like it was a trophy. "you have joy."

you sighed, but your lips curved upward. "help yourself, i guess."

"oh i have been," he said with a playful wink, already reaching for a second bowl from the shelf.

the next ten minutes were filled with quiet munching and the soft sound of the morning news on low volume in the background. beomgyu sat across from you at the small kitchen table, still wearing the frog pants you'd given him the night before, like they were the peak of fashion.

"you've got milk on your chin," you said, half-smiling as you pount at him with your spoon.

beomgyu blinked, swiping at the wrong side of his face. you rolled your eyes, leaned over the table and wiped it with the corner of your sleeve.

he froze—just for a second. the kind of pause that hung in the air a beat too long. you felt it too, the sudden silence stretching between you.

"thanks." he said softy, eyes lingering on yours a little longer than usual.

you nodded, quickly looking down at your cereal. the clink of your spoon against the bowl suddenly felt too loud.

after a moment, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head toward the window. "the sun's finally out," he said, his voice light again. "i was starting to think we'd be stuck in a tragic indie film forever."

you snorted. "you'd love that though."

he smirked. "depends. do i get the girl in the end?"

huh?

you stared at him—just a second too long. an unreadable expression on your face.

but your heart knew what was behind that expression, even if your mind was in denial.

he looked back, like he was trying to read something in your face. then he blinked and grinned, brushing it off like it was a joke. "kidding. unless you think i'd make a good male lead."

his usual teasing tone was evident in his voice.

you laughed, shaking your head. "you'd definitely cry at your own monologue."

"and steal the show," he said, eyebrows dancing, popping the last choco ring into his mouth.

you watched him, the sun catching his hair now, and something soft settled in your chest—warm and confusing.

"what?" he asked, catching your gaze.

"nothing." you said quickly. "just... your hair looks ridiculous."

"you say that like it's not my brand. and it's called trendy." he said and sent you a wink playfully, a light-hearted joke.

but why did my heart take it seriously?

© bangtanbeom 2025

[thecaptainofcosmichorrors]

I see another cookie run writer hehe!!

Im Not Sure If you're okay with poly or not...If not just do them separately! Buttt Smc and Pure Vanilla relationship headcanons pretty pleaseee :P

[Am I okay with Poly?! You have no idea dear Anonymous, I can not get enough of these silly cookies together! Thank you for entertaining my wildest of whims (this actually cracked me up because I just put in one of my newest posts that I’m totally cool with it). I hail you by your new name, “writer ✍️ anonymous”!]

Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk x Reader headcanons!

You absolutely started dating Pure Vanilla before being Shadow Milk Cookie, I can’t imagine it the other way around just because of his personality; not the biggest fan of sharing, but more specifically? Once you’re in a relationship with him, you’re his for life. Pure Vanilla is a lot more prone to being open to that.

Speaking of open, the two of you definitely had a conversation when the topic arrives. It’s crucial to Pure Vanilla the two of you are on the same page, and only when the two of you are does he acts on any feelings of his.

Depending on what you are definitely would change the dynamic of your strange trio; while they’re totally capable of dating a mortal cookie, it would also be more interesting to be immortal—especially when you get into the nitty-gritty of how this is possible.

If you’re one of the original pre-corrupted beast that somehow resisted corruption, it’s going to be messy on Shadow Milk’s side; there’s a bit of resentment mixed with a yearning to reconnect, because you so intrinsically understand what it was like to deal with such corruption—it was madness. Pure Vanilla would admire your resilience and appreciate your help with the other Ancients, if you did decide to reveal your true origins.

Getting back on track, the start of your relationship with Pure Vanilla is a little overwhelming? He’s so caught up that it can be a bit overbearing in its own way, especially with his almost instinctual need to please and care for you; if you’re not careful and don’t nip it in the butt early, he’ll end up love-bombing you more more than not.

He doesn’t mean any ill-will, he just really doesn’t want anything to happen to you and wants you to know that he loves you a lot. His lack of experience causes him to act on what he thinks you need, which can sometimes be incorrect. Once he calms down and you talk, you’ll see him be a lot more honest with his feelings; his ways of showing affection are a lot more down to earth and genuine.

Enough of talking about Pure Vanilla cookie, Shadow Milk cookie’s initially pretty antagonistic; him and Pure Vanilla’s history runs deep, that doesn’t even begin to go into his less than stellar feelings on you too—regardless of your status of knowing him.

He thinks that you’re probably just as idiotic as Pure Vanilla, soft and easily pleased; so he resigns himself to just watching the two of you, for his own enjoyment of course! Though the longer he watches he learns quite a bit about you—you’re kind, but beneath that tooth-achingly sweet façade of you is something almost fun? You are much spunkier than he initially anticipated, and are not easily swayed by his simple illusions—a good challenge. While his little games initially come off as antagonistic, the two of you start to have fun in them, and they become more light-hearted by consequence, the physical evidence of his true feelings.

Y’all being together is common, if not, then to be expected. Shadow Milk is always hovering around one of you at any given time; it’s very seldom he isn’t with you an/or Vanilla.

In a relationship, how they treat each other is complicated; they do love each other, but dating your soulmate means that they know everything about you—everything. They know each other like the back of their hand, and are super connected both in the literal sense; but more in a metaphorical sense… this also means they annoy the crap out of each other because of how much they know.

So you might be a bit surprised when I say this based on my other writings, but I actually don’t believe Pure Vanilla is all that physically affectionate; I think he can be, but he’s not clingy. He’s much more verbally affectionate than anything, now Shadow Milk? beyond clingy, needs to be touching you the entire time.

Because of the corruption, I imagine that he’s actually super cold; so anybody that runs hot would be thriving, though Vanilla definitely runs warmer—so you’ll have to get used to the conflicting temperatures. With cuddling, you’ll initially start with just hugging Shadow Milk; but by the end of night, you’ll get sandwiched.

In terms of bonding, you essentially have the entire kingdom to wander and spend time with your lovely cookies. Shadow Milk Cookies takes up writing his own scripts, while Pure Vanilla reads a lot—which means that there’s quite a few times where the three of you working on your respective things in the same room, occasionally getting each other’s feedback and thoughts. Pure Vanilla is pretty contented as long as the two of you are happy, so you’ll have to be pretty vigilant as to not let him let his wants fade into the background in favor of pleasing you two. He’s not afraid to speak his mind, he just wants y’all to be happy.

Pranks are also common, as Shadow Milk cookie is the beast of deceit and lies, but if you show disinterest/dislike in actually getting pranked? he will not prank you and he even let you join in—Pure Vanilla commonly being the victim of them. The degree of danger depends on his mood; nothing that would kill a cookie, he’s changed—besides, he doesn’t wanna sleep on the couch again. If you’re just as into causing mischief as him… you two are an absolutely terrifying duo.

[djarins-cyare]

Here from your WIP post - please tell me about Refugees From TV Land?!

Yay, I’m so glad someone asked about this one! 🩵 It’s one of my favourites and the first fic idea I wrote down after finishing Be-All And Endor.

As those of you who’ve read my WIP folder titles may have guessed, I’m pretty obsessed with the whole ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept. One of my most beloved Mandalorian fics ever (Short Debts Make Long Friends by @wrathkitty) features a Reader from Earth, and I’ve already described one of my Earthling!Reader fic ideas here.

Another of my favourite Mandalorian fics is Not My Stars by @keldabe-kriff, which is kind of the opposite – it features Din becoming stuck on Earth. It’s such an intriguing inversion of the ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept that I found myself dreaming up my own spin on how such a situation could come about and what the dynamics would be like. I love the idea of Din being totally flummoxed by things we find normal and the reader having to help him adapt!

Refugees From TV Land is a placeholder title until I can think of something better, but I’ve got the whole thing plotted out and have written a few scenes here and there. I think the best way to illustrate the setup is simply to give you the entire scene where Din arrives, although I don’t really want to give away much more than that for now. So here you go – I hope you enjoy it! 🩵

Refugees From TV Land

BOOM!

You bolt upright as a deafening bang wrenches you from your couch-based slumber, shattering the enjoyable Mandalorian-themed dream you were having. The projector still hums quietly behind you, its vintage lens casting an achromatic glow over the room, though the show has long since ended.

Through the foggy confusion of your abrupt awakening, you scan the room, convinced that something has either fallen or exploded, and a mounting panic hits as you realise Yoda is nowhere to be seen.

“Yoda! Where are you, buddy?” That dog is a menace.

After a few seconds, the patter of claws on the hardwood floor signals your little hound has heard your summons. All you see at first are his huge ears approaching the couch before he leaps up to join you.

“What have you destroyed this time, huh?” you ask, already dreading the mess you’ll have to face.

Yoda huffs at your accusation before bounding forward to lick your face – either in apology or simple affection – and you collapse back onto the sofa, laughing as you fend him off with a few ear scratches. A quick once-over confirms he isn’t wet, smeared in food, or singed. It’s unlikely he’s caused too much damage, then.

“Alright, little guy, whatever it is, we’ll tackle it tomorrow. Bedtime now.” But as you try to kick off the blanket and sit back up, you swear you hear something else – a man’s shout, distant yet discernible.

Is someone outside? You’re about to get up and check when Yoda growls, and a cold shiver of alarm races through you at the possibility of an intruder. This place is so isolated that you’re not sure how to handle such a prospect. You freeze for several anxious moments, watching your dog for any clues about the threat’s origin.

Then, you notice something odd: Yoda isn’t growling at the door or the windows. He’s fixated on the blank wall opposite you, upon which the projector still casts a large square of light.

And that’s when you see it.

Shifting patterns ripple within the light’s confines – undulating shimmers that make the solid wall appear almost liquid, the shapes slowly gaining colour and definition.

Suddenly, Yoda howls, and your focus snaps back to him, only to see him doing his best wolf impression at the ceiling. “What the fuck…?” you murmur.

But before you can reach out to soothe him, a shrill, high-pitched tone slices through the air, forcing you to clamp your hands over your ears. Yoda abandons his howling in favour of barking instead, his gaze fixed once again on the wall. You look up and see… images! They’re faint but unmistakable – as if the projector’s lens is out of focus.

Wondering what on earth it’s projecting (since the DVD has undoubtedly ended), you reach up behind the sofa and fiddle with the lens assembly, twisting the focusing gear to adjust the aperture. The piercing tone has vanished, so you drop your other hand from your ear, noting that Yoda has now fully burrowed himself beneath your blanket.

So much for your guard dog, the little wimp.

As the image sharpens, you hear a man shouting again – but this time, you can make out the words: “There he is! Stop him!” Desperately, you twist the focus gear once more, trying to tune in whatever your projector is inexplicably displaying.

Suddenly, the image becomes vividly clear – a perfectly projected grey hallway with angular walls and glowing strip lighting. Your drowsy mind struggles to make sense of the familiar architecture and fathom why it’s being projected onto your living room wall when, all at once, there’s another boom. You jolt in shock, and Yoda whines from beneath the blanket.

Then chaos erupts in the corridor: flashes of red ricochet off the walls, and your eyes widen as a figure dashes around the corner. A figure you recognise immediately.

It’s none other than the Mandalorian – his silver beskar deflecting the red plasma as if it were mere rain in a summer storm.

What the fuck are you seeing? Is this an easter egg at the end of the DVD or something?!

You watch as Din tucks himself against the wall near the corner he just raced around. He peeks back out and fires a couple of blaster shots back the way he came while Grogu’s little pod zips around the corner, its top closed tight to protect him.

Suddenly, a door slides open closer to you along the corridor, and a stormtrooper steps into the foreground, taking aim at Din’s back.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, fully immersed in the stakes of this bizarre bonus scene. But Din pivots just in time, firing his blaster straight at his would-be attacker. The trooper falls instantly, their own shot going wide and bouncing off the metal wall until it hurtles directly toward the camera…

…and into your fucking living room!

You scream as it impacts the wall above you, desperately wondering if you’re still asleep on your couch and merely dreaming this madness… until Din rushes toward you, shouting, “Is it safe there?”

This is a dream. It can’t be real.

Nonetheless, you nod.

And then he’s running toward you again, stormtroopers rounding the corner behind him, blaster bolts shrieking in your direction.

You cringe as elements from the show you love transform your cosy living room into a battlefield. Red plasma shatters an antique vase on your shelf… it singes your new oak coffee table and custom-made couch cushions… and the Mandalorian you’ve adored for the past four years dives through the wall, rolling to a surprisingly graceful stop on your rug.

Holy shit. This is a dream. This is just a totally realistic, scarily vivid dream.

But the shots keep coming, and the stormtroopers clamour ever closer….

“Close the doorway!” Din yells, rolling to his knees and returning fire through your wall.

Reacting mindlessly to his command, you twist on the couch, stretching up behind you to slam the on/off switch as fast as you can. But as the projector’s light flickers and fades, a few more blaster shots make it through the rapidly vanishing ‘doorway’ – and one catches your outstretched forearm.

The pain is more excruciating than any injury you’ve ever endured. You can’t even tell if you scream; you think you do, but nothing else exists beyond the searing agony of white-hot plasma eating into your skin.

It’s fucking glowing.

With the projector now off, the room is shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight streaming through the windows… and your fucking glowing wound.

You slide back down on the couch, clutching your injured arm and trying your goddamn best not to hyperventilate.

“Hey… let me see,” you hear, and suddenly, your fictional crush is gently cradling your forearm in his soft leather gloves. Din fucking Djarin is kneeling beside you, holding your arm as you hysterically gulp down oxygen and repress the urge to scream. Then, a gurgling sound comes from behind him, and you glance up…

…and wide brown eyes stare at you from between enormous batwing ears that illustrate exactly why you named your dog Yoda. Except… he looks real. A real-life Grogu with fluid movements – so unlike that jerky puppet in the show.

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. Even your desperate, gasping attempts to take in oxygen aren’t enough to stave off your shocked mind’s overwhelming desire: to just switch the fuck off for a while.

And as darkness encroaches from the edges of your vision, you remain conscious just long enough to feel something tingly being sprayed on your arm. The last thing you hear before you pass out is a modulated voice that sounds remarkably like Pedro Pascal assuring you, “You’re gonna be fine.”

Sure. You will be when you wake up. Because this was all a dream.

Right?

[4kingz]

Just for the Summer | Ticci Toby X Reader

Summary : Camp Redwood is just what you needed—free food and a break from everything back home. No signal, no drama, just trees, bug spray, and a summer to reset. The other counselors are easy to get along with, each one bringing their own energy to the group. It’s a peaceful routine—until things start to feel a little less like a break and more like something else. People come and go, and you start to realize there’s more to this place than you first thought. But for now, all you really need to do is enjoy the simple moments. Right?

Warnings : Nothing I can think of yet! There will definitely be some later, I'll update each chapters warnings as they're posted! Word count 2.7k A/N : Hie! I've never posted anything online before, I'm very anxious about this LOL but I hope it's enjoyable regardless! This is for fun right now and I'm unsure of how long it'll be & whatnot. This is going to be a painful-slow burn fic, as they're my favorites :insert evil laugh: anyways, enjoy the first chapter!

divider by @cafekitsune (© 2023-2024)

The bus smells like old leather, sweat, and something vaguely burnt—the way all public transportation does.

I’ve been on it for hours, watching the roads thin out into winding dirt paths, the kind that only lead to places people forget about. The trees are thick and heavy with fog, their branches curling toward the road like fingers stretching for something just out of reach.

The scenery is gorgeous. Creepy, in its own way. But it’s enticing, too.

There hasn’t been much talking. A few of the other counselors murmur to each other here and there, heads bobbing with the movement of the bus, but for the most part, it’s quiet. I figure it won’t be like this for long, so I might as well soak it up while I can.

Shifting in my seat, I adjust my backpack in my lap. At first, I took this job for the paycheck. The job listing made it sound easy—a summer in the woods, good money, free food. But after thinking about it more, I realized I needed something different. Something away from everything. I told myself it’d be fun. Maybe a little nostalgic, even.

Even if the view is a bit eerie and uninviting.

The driver clears his throat.

“Couple more miles,” he grunts, knuckles tight on the wheel. “Once we get past the old bridge, you’ll see the camp soon after.”

No one seems to have the energy to respond.

I don’t either. Instead, I lean my head against the window, watching as the trees blur past.

They’re dense out here, packed so tightly together that the spaces between them seem darker than they should be. Their branches stretch overhead, filtering the daylight until everything has that dim, greenish tint, like the world is underwater. The bus rattles along the uneven road, and for a moment, I just breathe, sinking into the rhythm of the movement, the steady pulse of tires crunching over gravel.

It’s calming.

Just trees, stretching on forever, untouched. I try to picture what the camp will look like—cabins by the lake, a big open field for activities, kids running around in bright-colored shirts. The kind of summer job I can look back on fondly. Maybe even one I’d come back to next year if I like it enough.

The driver flicks on the radio, muttering something about hating the quiet. The speakers crackle, then settle on a warbly folk song.

“There we go,” he mumbles.

The bus jolts as it crosses the bridge, wooden planks creaking under the weight of the tires. The water below is dark, slow-moving. Definitely not the kind of water you’d want to swim in. 

It felt like the whole day had passed by before we finally arrived.

A huge wooden sign hangs above the dirt path in front of us, written in all red paint and welcoming bubble letters.

‘Welcome to Camp Redwood’

The bus slugs along, before we reach what looks like the main campsite.

It’s way bigger than what I could’ve ever imagined. The main lodge stands at the center, an old two-story building with a wraparound porch and a roof that looks like it’s seen better days. The cabins are scattered near the lake, their wooden frames blending into the tree line. A toolshed leans slightly to one side, like it’s trying to back away into the woods.

No lights. No movement. Not even an animal in sight. For a place that’s about to be filled with kids and fun activities in a week, it's oddly... quiet.

The driver clears his throat again like he’s about to say something, but in the end, he just sighs and eases the bus to a stop.

“We’re here.”

As I expected, the silence doesn’t last long. The other counselors immediately burst into conversation, gasping at the sight of the camp and talking over each other as they shuffle down the aisle and off the bus.

I decide to wait, grab my bag and follow as the last person passes me. The driver doesn’t even glance our way, tapping his fingers against the wheel in time with the radio. Some country tune seemed to gain his favor more than we managed to. The moment we’re all off, he pulls onto the roundabout path and drives away without a word.

Wow. The way here was impressive enough but the camp itself is just… wow. 

“Counselors! Glad to see you all made it in one piece!”

Everyone stops short, twisting around to find the source of the voice.

There’s a guy on the porch, leaning casually against one of the wooden beams like he’s been there the whole time. He’s got messy blonde hair and the same Camp Redwood shirt we’re all wearing—an aggressively bright orange with plain black lettering. It clashes horribly. But he’s managed to make his stand out with a few personal touches.

A green beanie. A name tag pinned to his chest, the word BEN scrawled across it in some weird, almost alien-looking font. A few layered bracelets—woven, beaded, maybe even handmade—clink softly as he moves.

He grins, stretching his arms out like he’s welcoming us into his home. “Come on in. There’s plenty of rooms for everyone—first come, first serve.” He winks.

That’s all it takes. The group surges forward, practically tripping over themselves to get inside. I wasn’t too concerned about what room I’d get, but their excitement is contagious, and now I kind of want to check them out, too.

The inside of the lodge is somehow even bigger than the outside. 

It’s one of those places that feels like it was built to be rustic, but maybe just a little too much—like they took the word “charm” and ran with it until the edges started fraying. Wooden beams stretch across the ceiling, and the floors creak underfoot, even though I’m not sure how much traffic this place gets. The furniture's old but stylish, everything in that faded, vintage style—couches that look like they belong in your grandma’s house and coffee tables that probably came with matching coasters back in the day.

I glance around at the others, already getting a feel for the space. Some people are checking out the check-in desk, but there’s no one behind it. A few other counselors are leaning against the wall by the fireplace, casually chatting.

Ben, still hanging by the door, lets the others scramble past him with a casual wave. “The rooms aren’t gonna pick themselves.”

Everyone seems to take that as a challenge. The buzz of excitement builds as counselors crowd toward the stairs, chatting about how nice the place is, how big the rooms must be, and if anyone’s heard the rumors about the lake.

The stairs creak as I make my way up, and the hallway stretches out before me, long and narrow. I let the smell of pine trees and old wood lead me, the smell oddly refreshing. 

As I pass by the rooms, I take note that every single one of them is different. Whether it’s the way they’re arranged or the architecture entirely, none of them were the same. Every door is different, too. Some were engraved with florals, others were boxier and had no markings. The handles were different, too, some more updated than others. 

Whoever built this place must be proud. I couldn’t even imagine how long it must’ve taken to build, let alone to continue updating it. Some pillars were definitely newer than others, showing just how much care was put into this place. 

I pause in front of the last door—a corner room with a direct view of the lake behind us. It’s simple, but smaller than some of the other rooms I passed by. Must be why no one’s claimed it yet. It is a little cramped, but the bed is made with clean sheets, and there’s a small desk with a cute green lamp and a couple of old books stacked neatly beside it. I drop my bag onto the bed and run my hand over the smooth surface of the desk, feeling the faint grooves of wear in the wood. 

It was perfect. 

I set my things down carefully—my jacket draped over the back of the chair, my bag placed neatly by the door. I take a second to unpack just the essentials: my notebook, my charger, the books I’ve been meaning to read. It’s kind of funny how much of your life can be tucked into a bag. I set my phone down on the nightstand, its soft glow a reminder that I’m still tethered to the outside world, even if I’m a few hours away from it now.

I sit on the bed once everything’s to my liking, letting the silence wrap around me like a blanket.

Everything about this cabin was so comforting—the way the wood smelled, the old style of the furniture, like it had stories to tell. It all felt... settled, in a way. Even the soft creaks of the floorboards seemed welcoming, like the place was gently sighing, content to have someone here.

It’s only been maybe fifteen minutes, but I can already tell I’m going to love spending the next few months here. My eyes flutter shut at the thought. It’s strange how quickly the exhaustion hits. I didn’t realize how drained I was until I actually got into bed. I deserve a quick nap. Just a little one. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hey, counselors,” Ben’s voice carries up the stairs, sharp and casual. “Dinner’s ready, and we’re meeting in the dining room. I wanna get everyone settled before we start. You’ve got five minutes.”

Around me, doors creak open as everyone scrambles to put their things away. The walls here are thin—I can hear every shuffle of footsteps and rustle of bags being shoved into corners. 

So much for a nap.

I push myself off the bed, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. Everything’s already unpacked, so I might as well head down and grab a seat before the ‘good’ spots are taken. 

The floorboards groan beneath me as I make my way out, the sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. 

Downstairs, the lobby is just as stunning as before, its large windows framing the darkening sky. I catch myself staring again, drawn to the lounge chairs by the window—faded with time, but still holding onto some quiet character, the geometric patterns barely visible beneath years of wear. I can already picture myself sitting there with a book, the camp buzzing in the background. “Admiring the view?”

I spin around so quickly my heart practically leaps out of my chest. My hands fly up to my chest, a reflex to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline.

When the hell did he get there? 

Ben’s standing in the doorway, watching me with an unreadable expression, though I can tell he’s enjoying this—his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I exhale, forcing my hands to drop from my chest. “I didn’t hear you.”

His grin sharpens. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

I glance toward the dining hall. “Dinner time, right?”

Ben nods, rocking back on his heels. “Unless you wanna skip and live off granola bars for the rest of the summer. No judgment.”

Tempting, but I shake my head. “I’ll pass.”

"Suit yourself." He turns and starts walking, and I fall into step beside him. As we move, I find my eyes drifting to the walls, each one covered in carvings that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. Some are intricate, delicate swirls and symbols, while others are rushed and jagged, like someone had been in a hurry. Initials, strange symbols, even full sentences, as if the lodge has been quietly collecting secrets over the years. I slow my pace just a bit, letting my gaze wander, taking in the little details. There’s a heart carved into the wood, faded names inside it, a date so deep in the grain it almost looks like it could split the wood apart. And near the door, there’s a message so faint it’s nearly illegible: "Don’t look up."

I don’t.

When we step into the dining hall, it’s completely empty.

I slow, taking it in. The space is just as intricately designed and furnished as the rest of the cabin. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Long wooden tables stretch across the room, set with mismatched plates and silverware. Lantern-style lights hang overhead, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. 

He unlatches a few of the old windows as I take my seat, letting the air breathe through the room. It rolls in slow, like it’s been waiting for someone to open the place up again—cool and woodsy, carrying that sharp pine scent mixed with the damp, earthy smell of lake water. It shouldn’t smell good, not really. But it does. It smells like summer. Like scraped knees and mosquito bites and campfire stories you only half-remember later. 

It settles around me in a weirdly soothing way, like the room just exhaled and said finally.

“So,” Ben says, turning to face me with one eyebrow cocked, “what brings you here, counselor?”

There’s something about him that’s disarming. If I had to guess, it’s probably his carefree attitude. But still, for someone I just met, he’s making it way harder than I expected to not just spill everything.

I shrug, tapping the edge of my fork against the table. “No big reason, really. Saw the listing online, thought it sounded pretty chill. Good pay, free food... hard to pass that up.”

His grin stretches wider, like he’s won something. “I knew that would work. That little incentive combo? Totally my idea. I figured it’d reel in a couple of fun ones.”

“You saying I was lured?” 

“I’m saying it worked,” he replies, his voice full of pride, like he’s been waiting to drop that bomb all night.

I bite back a laugh, but that eyebrow of his? That does me in. I can’t help it—my laugh spills out before I even realize it.

“Nice to know I’m early!” A new voice cuts through the moment. We both glance toward the entrance, where a taller woman with dark brown braids steps in, all easy smiles and confidence. She moves like she’s done this before—whatever this is. I give her a quick wave as she slides into the seat across from me.

Ben finishes pouring water into the glass beside him and settles in.

“Nice of you to be early,” he says, nodding at her in an approving demeanor. Her face immediately brightens at the clear compliment, and she slides closer to the table, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Before things can stretch on too long, the rest of the counselors start trickling in, each finding their spot around the table. There’s the shuffle of chairs, the soft murmur of greetings, until finally, everyone settles into place.

Ben stands up then, the scrape of his chair loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. He scans the room with that same easy smile, giving a nod of acknowledgment to everyone around the table.

“Welcome to Camp Redwood,” he says, his voice carrying over the soft chatter, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.

The room erupts with cheers. For a group of just nine counselors, it somehow feels a lot louder than it should.

“Alright, alright,” Ben says, waving a hand as the noise starts to die down. He clears his throat, just loud enough to pull everyone’s focus back. “I’m not gonna kick things off with a lecture on rules—you all definitely read the application, right?” He grins, not waiting for an answer. “Tonight’s about us. The counselors. In a week, ‘us time��� goes out the window. The kids show up and we’re locked in for three months of chaos. I know I got a name tag, but I’m Ben. I’ve been here since the camps opened up six years ago.”

Ben’s gaze shifts to the redhead sitting to his left, who’s busy shoveling a forkful of chicken into his mouth. The guy pauses mid-chew, his eyes flicking up slowly like he can feel the weight of everyone’s attention on him.

“We’ll kick things off with introductions,” Ben says, “and then we’ll vote on how to wrap up the night.” 

This was proofread by friends and edited over the past few weeks before I finally decided to post it—hopefully it’s up to your guys' standards! If you’ve got any tips or comments, feel free to drop them <3

[k-aemi]

HII I LOVE YOUR POSTS SO MUCH

Can i order a somno with scaramouche x fem reader where he sees her pure and innocent form and then completely looses himself to the look of you?

Thank you for reading this and if i can, could i be the 🐑anon?

yas sheep anon! writing is so hard so this one is kind of rusheddd , but dont get me wrong I did try! hope you enjoy anon

purity┊scaramouche

PAIRING ┊ scaramouche x f!reader GENRE ┊ smut WC ┊1.5k+ WARNINGS ┊ cussing , i will call wanderer, scaramouche! , somnophilia , non-con , stalking , lowercase intended!!! SYNOPSIS ┊ selling baked goods , always trying to serve the best customer service to your buyers , there would always be a regular coming. little do you know that buyer always had impure thoughts of you. A/N ┊ written by kam , hope you guys enjoy ! also modern-au (?) im sorry if this one isnt really goooddd, sorry for the delay too!!

you were a baker girl, always selling fresh pastries and doing the best you can to serve the best customer service for your buyers. you had the best bread in sumeru and people loved it! you were practically well known for them.

you would see regulars here and there, always loving to talk with them whenever they came to stop by to grab something to eat on the go. but this customer you had, came most than others.

scaramouche, he came almost everyday...maybe twice that day. however, you found solace in his tranquil company, occasionally deriving enjoyment from his presence. yet, deciphering the thoughts occupying his mind proved to be a bit challenging, not that it really mattered to you.

"hello! the usual?" you would always flash that smile of yours to him while waving. he gave a small nod. you would prepare his order, before presenting it to him in a neatly arranged plastic bag.

scaramouche grabs the bag, your hand slightly grazes his and he flinched. "bye! hope you enjoy!" scara nods and pays you before leaving the store. walking back to his abode, his face brightens up with a red.

"she touched me...she touched me..." repeatedly saying , that scene would always reminisce in his mind, wanting to feel that touch again. your hands are so soft, he sometimes thinks you were made for him.

how did this even start? it's quite simple. nahida suggested scara to try out this new place, a way to try and socialize and experience more taste buds! naturally, he harbored no intentions of consuming it himself. however, since nahida also expressed an interest, he set out to purchase it.

walking in the building where the bread nahida desired was settled in, he waits at the line, groaning in annoyance, too noisy, and too crowded. he was never a fan of clustered places. as the line shortens its finally his turn.

"one moment sir!" a voice from the other room can be heard. and scara waits, observing his surroundings a bit before a figure pops out of his view from the side, turning his head, his gazes intertwined with yours, and its as if its the most breathtaking thing hes ever saw. you.

"hi! sorry for the wait! im currently the only one working here so things are quite tough to get around!" you let out a chuckle afterwards. his mouth was slightly agape, no words leaving his mouth as he kept his gaze at you. your voice flows as smoothly as a captivating melody, and the grace of your countenance is truly majestic. "soo, what would you like..?"

"the...the special." he said in a quiet tone before shifting his hat to cover his top half face. "got it! ill pack it up for you right now!" before grabbing the tong and picking up the freshly made bakes.

did you always have that smile on your face? it was beautiful yet he felt the need to want to wipe that smile off your face, wanting to ruin it. the thoughts getting to him...were a bit too wild now. realizing it himself he shakes those thoughts away.

"here you go sir! i made sure to pack them nice and neat so they dont get all over the place." there you go again. flashing that smile. he snatched the bag and paid for what was needed. "enjoy your bread!" you yelled out as scara was already out the front door.

its been months now ever since that encounter. its like a spark awoken in him. he would want to see what your face would look like, covered in his cum. he would want to see you cock drunk, always begging for him to pleasure you more and more. he couldnt get enough, his hand wasnt enough. he needed the real thing.

when you were done with your shift, you close down the shop, packing up the left over bakes for you to take home and eat. turning off all lights before locking the entrance. of course how would scara get to see you if he didnt know your schedule?

he studied what you do everyday, what time you work, your breaks, and when you end. even knows the direction to your house. sure he didnt have the courage to just talk to you normally other than just ordering plain old bread is what he would describe.

locking up your shop, you now advance to your house. walking while the streets were quiet, though, sumeru was quite safe, so you didnt worry about anything! but little did you know scara was in the shadows, following you, admiring everything you do. sure you heard a couple footsteps, but shrugged it off as a dog or what.

reaching to your humble abode, you take your keys, unlocking the door before turning the knob to enter. but it didnt matter to scara, he knew which rooms was yours, going to the window associated to your room, he watches as you enter in, flicking on the light as you now took off your pants.

you were a "home is where the pants arent" type of person. it felt more relaxing to dress down indoors, especially since you were alone – the comfort of solitude made you feel relaxed at last, after a long day of serving and selling, you were exhausted. scara would always enjoy the view of your panties shaping out your ass.

the wild thoughts occupying his mind again, wanting to stuff his fat cock inside your cunt, pounding into you mercilessly until you couldnt walk for days. different positions, never stopping until you pass out. these thoughts accompanying his mind, a growing tent forms in his pants.

taking a hand to shift the harden shaft around to ease the pain. it was just aching to get out of his pants. he couldnt wait till you have fallen asleep, then he would do whatever he could to you.

charging your phone then being in the comforts in your bed, tucking yourself in before closing your eyes, falling into a deep slumber. taking this opportunity, he picks the window, before sliding it to the side to jump in. making sure his footsteps were light as a feather to not wake you up.

scara observes the room, inhaling the room that was covered in your sweet scent. looking at your sleeping figure, he comes closer, to admire your beautiful face. hopping onto the bed to have a better view. "fuck.." he couldnt contain his excitement any longer as he rubs a finger on the outline of your cunt.

making you wince a bit, he slides the panties to the side, looking at your bare cunt now. the sight makes him drool, wanting to devour it already. but it has seem his dick was really impatient. twitching in place already with precum on the tip staining his pants with a wet patch.

unzipping the jeans, his dick springs to life, hard and erect before he glides it against your folds. the sensation makes him grunt in pleasure, your heat making his body shudder before lining himself up to your hole. bottoming out when he fully sheathed himself with your walls. he harbored an intense desire to shatter your innocence.

groans falls from his mouth as he tried to contain them in order to not wake you up. his breath quivered, and at last, he began to stir. snapping his hips at yours, skin slapping skin echoing thru the room. his pace was rough, the feeling of you walls clasping around him felt so pleasurable to him.

balls slapping against your ass and his thumb pleasuring your clit. he was too focus on your pussy to even notice his pounding was harsh, it could wake you up. but he took the risk, trying to reach his high. thrusting turning sharper and harder each time his body connected with yours if that was even possible, it left little whines from your mouth, making scara more eager than ever to continue.

he couldnt hold it in anymore, his moans escaped his lips, grabbing your soft mounds to massage the flesh, and another hand, under your knee to push it up for a better angle. he was in so deep, pounding, thrusting, and pearls of sweat falls down from his forehead. taking his phone out from his pockets, pressing the record button. making sure your pussy and his dick disappearing into you was in view.

feeling your walls tighten around him, he figured you were bound to cum soon. his thrust getting sloppier and pace was slower, he continued on, wanting to reach his limit, and inject his cum into you. hes imagining more vulgar things he would do to you. sex up against the wall? yes. you tied up while he eats you out? of course. him fisting your hair and fuck facing you? thats his favorite.

minutes passed and he was close, and with one final push and groan, he cums inside your pussy. gasps and pants emitting from his lips as he tried to regain himself. he stilled himself in you for a bit before pulling out, cum gushing from your pussy and pooling under the sheets.

he smiles at the sight before his dick scoops up the remaining cum, fucking it back into you. a couple more breathless pants before he moved his hips again. this sure was going to be a long night.

the next day you would wonder why there was a strange smell from the sheets, and why your thighs were sticky.

requests open!

[archie-sunshine]

hi archie im very much zonked out the ass rn but just wanted to inform you of how much you've done that is awesome,,,, like man you made such a safe space to enjoy and talk about sex, kink, etc stuff and that seems like a small or silly thing in retrospect but its so important to the people who needed that space to not feel gross or weird for being a little horny with it. you and your work are awesome and you BETTER KNOW IT!!!!!

you're too kind, surely! I doubt the actions of one singular transformers fan has made that many waves.

I really am honoured by how much I've effected all of you in the ways of sexual liberation and safe kink but i also implore you all to not take everything i say at face value as fact bc i am still human!! and i do make mistakes.

rather, i think it's less about me specifically, and more about how all of you have chosen to take my own opinions. My fundamental belief is that no government nor outside force should have any say over what one does with their body as long as it does not hurt others. Those who police others for their enjoyment of sex or kink in the name of liberation or wanting to be treated with respect neglect the simple fact that one should never have to *earn* respect at all.

but again, I'm not the only person to come to these conclusions, and im no expert. Im just a fellow with opinions.

[mxchxelschmidt]

-a/n- this is the barista!reader mall security!mike I was talking about. There will probably multiple parts if it’s enjoyed enough. I may cross post to ao3 at some point. It’s not proof read so bear with me.

Mike hadn’t been working at the mall long when he first came up to the coffee shop you worked at. You were only working there because the last job you had didn’t line out exactly how you wanted it to. Waitressing was different than coffee. Waitressing was more taxing mentally for you. The people getting angry with your service and then tipping you terribly instead of speaking up was annoying and you hated your income depending on how much of a people pleaser you were.

His coffee order was simple, black americano. Espresso and water. Personally you would take the espresso shots over the watered down version. The man before you looked like he needed the coffee. His eyes had dark bags under them. His hair was messy, as if he rolled out of bed to come to work. You could admire that. You had your fair share of days that required you to roll out of bed early with no regards to how you looked to come get the shop open in time for customers to have morning coffee. In fact you’d just had one of those days not too long ago.

He was wearing his security uniform, black dress pants and the long sleeve grey button up adorned with a security badge. It was tucked into his pants and secured with a black belt. His radio at his hip ready to take any of the very important calls about a teenage shoplifting from hot topic.

“Black coffee? You don’t want to sweeten it a little?” You ask half playful, half serious, because coffee on its own was just bitter to you. There wasn’t much enjoyment in it.

He kind of makes eye contact with you but he seems distracted. Focused on something else. Which is fine, most of your customers are distracted by the turmoil of their own life. They don’t care much to talk to the “barista”. This guy should be no different. Something about him draws you in though, makes you want to know more.

“Yeah. Not really a fan of coffee, just really tired today I guess.” He says almost sounding interested in talking to you but there’s something missing in the way he speaks. Something far off and distant. He’s more distracted than your usual customers, like he’s not here, far off in another world, focused on anything but what’s going on around him.

You shrug and go to pour the shots focusing on that instead of the stranger that’s only half there in front of you. Once his coffee is made you take it to the pickup counter and call out his name, “Americano for Mike.”

You start saying that every day. He keeps coming back and you’re not sure why. He still looks just as tired as each day passes. You grow to admire the look. He’s messy but he’s also pretty and that’s enough to keep starting small conversations with this stranger.

He’s ordered coffee from you a dozen or so times by now. Your coworkers begin to notice he isn’t coming to the coffee stand on the days you aren’t working, and so the teasing begins.

One of the next times he’s there you hear your male coworker call out, “Hi Mike!” And you cringe inwardly at his goofiness.

Mike tips his head to the side and you can’t help but compare him mentally to a puppy. You bite back a laugh and shrug, “What can I say, you must be a regular now Mike. You want that americano again?”

He’s less distant the more he comes to the coffee stand. He shakes his head and leans against the counter, “I can’t lie, as much as I’d rather not spend the extra money to make it taste good, I don’t think I can stomach anymore black coffee.”

You smile, you knew it would only be a matter of time before he gave up the black coffee charade. You pick up a cup and your pen looking at him, “Do you know what you’d like instead?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and shrugs before shaking his head, “Mmm… No. I was hoping maybe you had some suggestions?”

You can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips and you write his name on the cup. He pulls out his cash to pay you, holding it out across the counter and you shake your head at him, “On the house for your first try.” you give him a playful wink and walk away to start making his drink. This time it’s similar to what he’s gotten in the past. You pour two shots of espresso. And put them in the cup. You steam milk with a bit of caramel flavored syrup and layer it on top of the espresso shots. When you’re finished adding a caramel drizzle to the drink you walk it over to the pickup counter and and hold it out to him instead of placing it on the counter.

He walks up and does that thing where he tilts his head curiously again and you can’t help but feel a little twinge in your chest at his cuteness. You can’t muster up the courage to say anything but, “You’re going to want to stir it before you drink it. That way it tastes better.”

He gives you a nod and a hint of a smile before taking the cup, “Thanks, I appreciate it. Sleep has been rough to come by recently. I think the coffee helps.”

You give him a small laugh and a nod, “Coffee is the sleep deprived persons best friend. Gotta make sure you’re awake enough to chase those shoplifters down.”

Maybe it’s the way that he holds the cup up to you in cheers way before walking away. Maybe it’s the fact that you know nothing about him. Maybe you’ve got a crush on the mysterious security guard that keeps coming to get coffee from you.

When you leave from your shift that day you notice Mike sitting on a bench by the exit and he has a cell phone pressed up against his ear. He’s got a look on his face that reads as mildly annoyed and very pissed off. You can faintly hear the words, “No I get it, but I just don’t have any one else to go to to watch her. I can’t leave work I have to be here for the whole shift. There’s no one to cover me.” He says and rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers, leaning back on the bench.

You can see the stress painted across his face. He looks like hes going to get emotional and you cant help but feel bad for him. It’s the way he’s pleading into the phone as if it really is his last option. You walk over to him as the conversation ends and his cell phone returns to his pocket. You look at him for a moment and he doesn’t seem to notice you, but you speak up anyways, “Hey, mike right?”

He looks up from his lap and his mouth is parted slightly like he’s caught off guard by your presence. Once again too wrapped up in his own lifes turmoil to notice the world around him. He nods, lips still parted slightly before he fixes his slack jawed appearance and stands, “Yeah Mike,”

“Black Americano guy, that is until today,” You say with a smile. “By the way how was your drink? It’s what I suggest to most non coffee drinkers that want it to taste half decent.”

He gives you half a smile which is more than you’ve gotten in the entirety of your interactions. Mike seems to be coming back to this plane of existence, considering hes giving you the time of day, “It was good actually, much better than what I have been drinking.”

You’re not sure how to segue into it but you’re curious about the heated phone call you had so you pluck up the courage to say it, “Trouble with the missus?” You ask half sarcastically. Maybe you’re overstepping your boundaries but it’s too late now, you’ve already brought it up.

He looks confused for a moment and then looks down at himself as if he’s looking for a hint to what you’re talking about. He then looks back at you and here comes that half smile again, “Oh no just babysitter troubles. My sister isn’t old enough to be at home alone and her babysitter just called to tell me that she can’t watch her tomorrow. Some family emergency or something. I don’t know.” He rubs his hands on his pants nervously and shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“You work tomorrow though don’t you? That’s tough,” You say and cross your arms thoughtfully.

“Yeah, now I’m kind of just shit out of luck. I don’t really have a back up since that was my backup.” He says and rubs a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. His face gets that far off look again like he can’t get his mind off of the amalgamation of problems that is his life.

You tap your foot once, then twice, a thoughtful look on your face and your lips tighten into a line before you finally speak up, “I don’t work tomorrow.” you blurt out. He looks at you with a confused look on his face like he doesn’t know why youve brought it up and then you see the lightbulb, “I have babysitting experience too, so I mean if you need someone to step up, I’m your girl” you say with a smile.

He looks like he’s taken aback by your kindness. By the wear and tear of this mans existence you can tell he hasn’t had much kindness in his life. He finally speaks up moments later, “Really?” he’s not sure if this is real or if he’s daydreaming it but it’s the best chance he’s got at not losing this job he so desperately needs to support him and his sister, “That would be amazing I don’t know how I could thank you enough. She’s a really easy going kid she’s just quiet.” he says and feels the hope building in his chest.

You smile at him and nod, “Sounds great. I think I can handle that.”

He digs around in his pocket for a moment and pulls out a small notepad and a pen usually used for taking down descriptions of criminals in the mall but this time he uses it to scribble his address down for you. He rips the page out of his notebook and hands it over to you. There’s a phone number accompanying the address and you assume it’s his. “There’s my address, if you could be there at 8am that would be great. She’s usually had breakfast by that time so it will just be lunch and dinner in terms of cooking. I’d have to pay you on payday. I’m a little tight on funds until then.” He says sheepishly.

This is the most Mike has ever spoken to you and you can tell how much he cares for his sister. You finally know what’s going through his head when he is ordering coffee and seems like he’s a million miles away.

You nod dutifully and smile at him “You got it Mike, I’ll see you bright and early.”

He smiles back, it’s not half this time, it’s a full smile. Seeing it break past that rough and tough exterior is nice. He has a nice smile.

“Thank you again.” He says and suddenly theres a call over his radio for a blonde teenage girl inside wet seal stuffing clothes in her purse and he’s off. Waving goodbye to you before turning on his heel and jogging in the direction of the store he was called to.

You walk to the parking garage with that little slip of paper tucked into your pocket. You get in your little beater car and head home actually excited for a change in your weekly routine. You’re excited to get to know more about him, even if it involves babysitting his younger sister.

[k0r3s-smu1]

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

A = affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I believe he’s more into quality time than physical affection.

He often takes you out to beautiful locations to go cloud watching, or star-gazing if its night.

He holds your hand occasionally, and gives you forehead kisses <33

When he has free time, he likes to have picnics with you and nap together.

He doesn’t really communicate how much he loves you, but you can see it by the way he looks at you.

B = Best Friend (what would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) 

Being his best friend is actually quite nice.

Its a calm friendship, you two don’t talk too much but you enjoy each other's presence. 

You train together, go on missions together, nap together, muichiro trusts and cares about you a whole lot; so he prefers to be by your side as much as he can.

He does tease you as well, and enjoys when you get angry and talk back.

You must’ve approached him to become his friend, otherwise he wouldn’t have talked to you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) 

He loves to be close with you, so of course he would be happy to do something as intimate as cuddling. He falls asleep quite easily with his arms wrapped firmly around you, his face snuggled into your chest or neck. Or laying on your lap, a certain calmness always comes over him. He feels secure pressed up against you, and he knows you're safe. 

He doesn’t exactly seek it out, but if he’s really missing your touch, then he might initiate it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does look forward to the day he can settle down with you and live a normal life. But until Muzan is still alive and demons still walk this earth, that won’t happen until he has to retire.

He’s decent at cleaning, and its quite relaxing for him. But he’s not too good at cooking. 

He’ll try though, and it’s very enjoyable for him when you’re there, guiding him or preparing food beside him. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

It would be a simple “Let’s break up”. If you questioned him, he would give a straightforward explanation about this decision. Then leave. Either that, or he would leave a note in your estate and stop visiting. You’d have to seek him out for further questioning. Either way, Tanjiro most likely noticed how down you were and after learning what happened, convinced muichiro to come back.

Now, Mui elaborates on his explanation in a more heartfelt way, making clear he loved and cherished you, and that this is for the best. He bids you farewell, and this second explanation definitely gave you more closure then the first.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Truthfully, he doesn’t think about it a lot. He loves you dearly but he’s also fine staying with the

“partner” or “boyfriend” title. Marriage isn’t that special to him. If he does choose to marry you though, it wouldn’t be quickly- probably a good couple of years later. (Unless you initiate it, of course) He is a bit worried about commitment, but being a capable demon slayer definitely helps.

It would really suck if he started dating a regular girl only for her to die one random night because some low level demon came crawling into her house 💀

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) 

He can be a little dense sometimes and say offensive things unintentionally, and he might have a hard time understanding why you’re mad because of something he said.

To him, he’s just being honest… but please don’t get too disheartened at him, he’s trying :(

You’re probably his first relationship, he’s new & might be a bit clumsy. 

But he’s otherwise pretty gentle with you in both aspects. He knows he’s strong and doesn’t want to run the risk of hurting you in any kind of way.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes, he does enjoy hugs! Well, specifically from you. Just like cuddling, he doesn’t really initiate it. But he’s more than happy to if you wanna. His hugs are light and warm, and being so close you can catch his scent- almost non existent, but it's there- Like clean laundry and mint.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not very fast. A few months into dating, maybe on a summer night, watching the stars.

I can see it being kind of random- It’s silent, and he’s just looking at you lovingly. And the words came, seemingly out of nowhere, so soft and sincere. Definitely caught you off guard. He’s always being honest, and it just felt right to him to say it at that moment. From there, he doesn’t say it a lot, but you know he loves you, and he knows you know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He probably doesn’t even understand what he’s feeling when it first comes up.

All he knows is that he doesn’t like what’s happening. The presence of the other man is irritating, 

And he’ll just drag you away from him; it’s not like that guy’s worth your time anyway.

I don’t think it’s exactly easy to make him jealous, but it’s not hard either… I'd say it's in the middle.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Gentle and loving, his kisses make you feel all warm inside. It’s short but meaningful.

He likes to be kissed on the cheek, and he likes to kiss your forehead. 

But on romantic occasions, your lips are the best place for him.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children, how do they feel about having kids, etc)

I mean, we saw how he treated Kotetsu- I don’t think he’s particularly nicer around them.

Maybe gentler, but otherwise the same. Nor do I think he really cares about having them.

They’re a bit annoying, and a responsibility I don’t think he’d be the best at.

He’d rather grow old giving his undivided love and attention to you.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Aaaah, it's so sweet! He’s all dozy and cute, and this is the time he gets most cuddly.

He has work to be done, but it’s so tempting to just stay snuggled in bed with you. 

He stays sleepy for a while even after getting up, and kind of clingy.

He might rest his head on your shoulder while you cook, still drowsy.

He’s extra forgetful during this time.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Basically the same as the mornings! He’s softer, more cuddly and affectionate.

Definitely looks forward to sleeping with you, or having a relaxing drink of tea with you to 

settle down before going to bed.

Prefers to spoon you then the other way around, though he also likes laying on your chest

And listening to your heartbeat. (he thinks your boobs are comfy.)

He falls asleep relatively quickly, but awakens easily if you move. Not that you can…he won't let you go.

Part 2

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, Raven! I just wanted to ask if it's very pressuring to be seen as like this type of fandom authority/big figure in the twst fandom? Which you're not, and I'm aware of it but I can't help but think and notice that a lot of people generally view you and your blog in that manner. I hope that hasn't soured your enjoyment in the fandom btw if it is the case, it can be daunting to be kind of upheld to a standard and responsibility you didn't ask for. But I hope you're still having fun and enjoying yourself because that's what fandom really is about at its core. Hope you have a good day!! 💖

Well 💦 it’s stressful, yes. but only when I’m made cognizant of that. Typically I don’t think of myself as being in that position, but I’m reminded of it when I receive the occasional ask that opens or closes their question/comment with really intense praise.

Thankfully, I have the luxury of being selective about which asks I reply to, but sometimes it can be as simple as skimming an ask that brings about a churning dread or cognitive dissonance in my stomach. I take a lot of time to formulate what I hope are thoughtful responses in part because I feel like I have some degree of responsibility for those who seem to place so much stock in what I say… It makes me anxious about all the potential ways it could go wrong. Unclear wording/tone misconstruing the intended message, people weaponizing my posts to justify their own takes, arguments breaking out, etc. Then that leads into worries about not deserving this position (ayy, love imposter syndrome/j) and it becomes a cycle that’s hard to break.

If people want to view me as some higher authority or big figure, then there’s only so much I can do to stop them. I can tell others all I want that I don’t like being put on such a high pedestal all I like, but it would do very little to change their mindsets. The best I can hope for is reminding them of where my boundaries lie when people start to act too attached to me. Like, you definitely should not be soliciting free favors, seeking validation, asking for life advice, and/or traumadumping to me, a complete internet stranger. (These have all happened before.) Remember, me being friendly ≠ being friends with me.

I’ve never been someone who reacts well to parasocialism or celebrity culture (something which I highlight in this post). I like to compartmentalize, separate reality from fandom, keep to myself and my own lane, be a private person… so it’s unnerving for me to suddenly be the recipient of parasocial behaviors. Again, I must stress that parasocialism is, in of itself, NOT a bad thing. It can, however, quickly snowball into emotional dependency or a falsified sense of intimacy. That’s why I keep stressing—especially recently—that I have to draw the line and make my boundaries clear.

Now, that isn’t to say that all of my parasocial experiences have been negative ones. Far from it! I’ve had the honor of meeting and getting to know many cool individuals through my activity in this fandom. (If you’re reading this, you know who you are 🫵) I’ve been able to participate in numerous group projects and activities alongside those people. I’ve gotten fan art and interesting asks from so many Twsties that are just as excited about my OC or new story content as I am. I’ve received kind words when I really needed them or when I least expected it. I will forever be grateful for that ^^ and I’d still say that the majority of my time in the TWST fandom has been chill and fun.

In my experience, I’ve seen both the highs and lows of fandom as the result of parasocialism. I of course evaluate them on a case-by-case basis, but what I want to point out is that I do not want overfamiliarity or people overstepping, especially if I have never spoken with you one-on-one off-Anon before 💦 I think that’s reasonable for me to request.

[schismusic]

Noctourniquet for Noctourniquet

A while back I reached out to Tumblr user @yourlocalsanitizedoctoling to thank her for her kind words regarding my piece about NIN's The Fragile. In her bio I read that she refers to herself as Noctourniquet, which was actually a bit of a conversation starter for us. Noctourniquet might be my favourite Mars Volta release; not the best – that would be Frances the Mute, of course – but the one that most resonates with my personal sensitivity. So that specific name took me all the way back to when I first listened to the record, sometime around December 2013. I don't exactly ever remember this time of year feeling especially magical or unique to me (and, for what it's worth, I suspect that my sister only really likes Christmas music more so than she does just about everything else about it), but I do remember how relevant this exact climate and weather were for my enjoyment of this record that I'd bought on a whim, as a massive fan of the first three Volta records, almost as if to prove all those professional reviewers wrong. I still maintain that they are wrong, and I still cherish the record to this day – way more so than their most recent outings, anyway, but also way more so than The Bedlam in Goliath, which is a story for another time. So I guess this was a sign to finally say my piece and own it, for real. Dear Tumblr user Noctorniquet, this one goes out for us, specifically.

So if you're familiar with the average Mars Volta record (if you're not, here's a little something) you might be feeling a bit confused right now. As usual, I'm not an inside guy, I bring nothing to the table – no scoop or profound insight or private information concerning the making of this album – but I have been listening to this record for more than ten years at this point and I feel quite strongly about it. For starters: TMV fans almost always make a point of underlining just how groundbreaking, daring, eclectic, et cetera et cetera et cetera the band was/is. And I mean, sure, I would be hardpressed not to agree with that, but part of the reason why I'm inclined to give them credit for this is the existence of Octahedron and, yes, Noctourniquet. The other part is the existence of De-Loused in the Comatorium and Frances the Mute, more or less specifically: Amputechture is good and it tries a number of cool bits here and there but it's, you know, a very codified Mars Volta album for the time it came out at, and The Bedlam in Goliath is -- God, okay, let's take a deep breath and get this out of the way.

See, ideally this'd be a whole different post unto itself, a post that has more to do with the nature of music criticism and music fans than it does with Noctourniquet as an album. Look, it's simple: The Bedlam in Goliath is nowhere near as good as Noctourniquet or, fuck it!, even Octahedron, because it is not a good album by just about any metric. The long and short of it is: you know that meme that's like, this is what [insert band here] sounds like to people who hate them? Yeah, that's the entirety of The Bedlam in Goliath to me. It's overlong, overplayed, overcomplicated, its only direction is off the nearest fucking cliff, and I don't give a shit about any stories about ghosts and wiped hard drives and everything: how this is rated higher than Amputechture (or any of the releases after it) simply escapes me. I will say I'm sorry for the personal injuries sustained by the band, because I am a functioning fucking human being, but I'm sorry y'all: this is a bad album that displays no class at all. Except Ilyena, which is an honest-to-God good song, despite Thomas Pridgen's best attempts to deface it with sulphuric acid at every chance he gets to cram a fucking drum fill in.

Man, that's a load off my chest. DMs are open to death threats, by the way. Now back to an actual interesting record.

So the consensus about Noctourniquet seems to be that it's a record that displays the signs of a lack of internal cohesion, different visions for the project colliding and not merging properly, underbaked songs with uneven structures and glaringly lacking songwriting that manages to feel somewhat placeholder. I will go out on a limb and say this: all of this is true, actually, but this is specifically why the record should be cherished. Like, be fucking for real here: are we surprised that the band we all praise for their experimentation actually went out of their way to experiment with their sound? Worse than that: are we mad that they did, because this experimentation includes raising the synths' levels on the final mix? It's not like they completely abandoned guitars, or the occasional classic-Volta number, as per the song I just linked before this paragraph. There's just a whole bunch of stuff going on here (at least until track 8, but I'm getting ahead of myself). And the idea of future punk itself – it's not exactly new at all, one might argue that Noctourniquet is basically just synthpunk with extra steps, but aren't the extra steps kind of the point here? What truly makes Frances the Mute different from Brain Salad Surgery, Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Lateralus, Fear of a Blank Planet or even Script for a Jester's Tear, if not the extra steps?

One funny thing that I figured was worth including, since this entire post is basically turning into a journal entry. A friend of mine a while back posted an Instagram story with the song Nuclear Seasons. Wrong as I might be, I don't exactly expect The Mars Volta and Charli xcx to have much fanbase overlap, so in case you're not familiar it's one of the very earliest singles that Charli released as a signed artist (for obvious reasons, I'm not getting into the early mixtapes here, thank you for your cooperation). It's a whole bunch of Eighties clichés slapping you in the dick, ostensibly, but she does do one thing in the pre-chorus that just fucked me up hearing it for the first time. You'll hear it when you listen, I'm sure: there's at least two separate instances where Cedric Bixler-Zavala wrote vocal lines with that exact same sense of melody over Noctourniquet – the title track, for instance. This is to no one's detriment, but it does display very clearly just how zeitgeist-y the Mars Volta were being with this particular release. Some might potentially argue that it could be a net negative: after all, it's not like any of their other record felt particularly era-appropriate, if you ignore the smashing success of bands like Porcupine Tree, Muse and …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead at the exact same time in the exact same circles, which – after typing it and re-reading it black-on-white – sure sounds like a really hard thing to ignore, now doesn't it? I'd still argue TMV is the superior band (Source Tags and Codes notwithstanding, maybe), if only by virtue of them releasing a record like Noctourniquet at what one could argue was their most broken. Not even a year after this dropped, Bosnian Rainbows looked like they were the next thing, then Antemasque for like thirty seconds flat – before everyone realized that one song sorta sucked – and then relative radio silence for a while. We were, essentially, left wondering. At the Drive-In reunited and made a couple more records, then disbanded again, then The Mars Volta reunited, released the same exact record twice and I didn't like it either time. It was a victory lap that clearly displayed the band has learned nothing of what Noctourniquet truly had to offer.

Deantoni Parks has an absolutely inorganic approach to groove and drumming that completely altered the way Volta songs were written. It made them more alien, harder to quantify and yet at the same time tighter, more clinical, laser-focused. The Mars Volta can write a radio song, they've proven it time and time again, which is why they just did not really do it for this one. Even The Malkin Jewel – lead fucking single for this thing, mind you – starts out sounding like it's coming for your carotid with a bread knife, wearing clown shoes. It's this impossible song that makes no fucking sense and sounds outright goofy on multiple occasions, and then it coalesces and has that big ass ending that we should all love so much in an ideal world. What went wrong here? Absolutely fucking nothing. It sounds like that intentionally, and it's that intentionality that I cannot help but respect. On Imago, the band starts off with this delicate emo-ass acoustic guitar arpeggio and then proceeds to absolutely mangle the bridge with shimmering synth arps, and the percussion gets smothered in slapback delay that turns it almost annoying and the track might be one of my highlights, specifically because of this. Even when the band goes medieval on the listener and tries a couple of the old tricks, the results sounds ice-cold and mechanical, and god do I love this fucking record. See next exhibit.

Granted, the record does lose a bit of steam in the second half. In Absentia, yet another banger, unfortunately just sort of inexplicably ends there, just like that, almost as if it was willingly cut by the band around the seven-minute mark so as to not turn it into "your usual Mars Volta thing"; and the record itself ends on Zed and Two Naughts (pretty good track, taken in itself), which basically just cuts the whole thing off with no particular qualms or time for reflection. I will say the track sequencing could be improved a bit, with some cuts here and there: Trinkets Pale of Moon, for instance, could have made a fun B-side, but as a whole ass track on the finished record? Eh. But then, just as you're looking the other way, the band hits you between the eyes with Vedamalady. I really don't know what to say about this anymore.

Does this not prove my point? Why is there so much beauty in what is, ostensibly, considered a "minor release" by just about anyone I've ever talked to, apart from this one stranger on Tumblr? And why is the beauty so apparent in spite (or perhaps because) of the unfinished, brutalist, stark naked nature of a record that actively got Cedric and Omar to argue, so much so that they had to call it quits for a while? No surprises that there was potential here, seeing as Omar immediately recruited a keyboard guy (Nicci Kasper) and this exact same drummer to make a new band, Bosnian Rainbows, that feels like a direct evolution/iteration on his exact sound. It is also a band that I love to death, and we sorta deserved a second album honestly, but that's a story for a different time. Point being: Noctourniquet sounds like a band falling apart, it is ostensibly unfinished, has way too many ideas and it never quite focuses on one or the other, its identity crisis is clear from the first FM bell arp all the way to the sudden full band stop at the end. And yet it holds so much potential to make it burst at the seams, and this potential feels so untapped, raw – alive, ultimately.

[zhaliacain]

Huntikmas day 19- Random niche hobbies the team have with no basis in canon

Dante: Extreme mountain biking

So Dante is described as an extreme sportsman in the series and we see him doing a lot of crazy stuff like skiing and intense martial arts but we've all seen those mad videos red bull put out of extreme mountain biking and you can't tell me that's not something Dante would do. Particularly in the countryside of Germany there are a lot of trails so it may have been his first venture into extreme sports and even though he may not have the time for it, nor can he drag around a bike across the globe, its still something he's very passionate about. (This is just one of Dante's many hobbies, I've got a whole list of random stuff he does because he's good at everything)

Sophie: Crochet

Crochet is just magic knotting at the best of times but I reckon Sophie is one of those people who can read a book and crochet at the same time. She says it's a mental exercise, being able to process information whilst conducting another action with her hands that also requires concentration but really she's just a wizard. Leblanche recommended it to her at first as a relaxing hobby but she got bored doing just one thing and soon watching tv or listening to podcasts whilst she was doing it become too easy so she upped the challenge to reading.

Zhalia: Website design

This is definitely her side hustle, it's the perfect balances of coding, design and human psychology. It started out with just her trying to create convincing trojan sites for the Organisation but then she found it strangely enjoyable and she found a lot more she could be doing with it.

Lok: Wood-working

Not really out there, we see Eathon Lambert making his own puzzles in the show and Lok wanted to go down the same path. Solving a puzzle is one task, being able to design and construct them for others is another thing. It started with simple wooden shapes designed to fit together but whilst perfecting his techniques its led him to carving other items like figures or a phone stand. Now not only is he getting better at making custom puzzles, he can carve intricate gifts to give to others.

Cherit: Jigsaws

We know Cherit likes puzzles, but for him jigsaw puzzles isn't about the thrill of solving something complex, its about putting together a picture little by little and the satisfaction of having created something from a messy pile. People often challenge him to complete a puzzle with the pattern side down for extra difficulty but Cherit likes to see his creations as he goes and has one of those folder books and some puzzle glue to preserve his favourite works

Den: Tik Tok

Okay not actually tie Tok but that kind of short video, vine, blogging behaviour you see going round. He's not one to show of his dancing but I can see him doing instructional videos on what he's learning at the moment. He also does those reaction videos with his usual snark and he's very happy to give his opinion on weird posts he finds.

Harrison: Pro-tag

Do not even get me started on how pro tag fits into my Huntik au universe, it's a whole thing. The benefit of pro tag is that it's a team sport without having to actually work with your team mates whilst in the arena. Harrison often gets frustrated with others so this is an ideal way for him to build his people skills, and his training skills whilst also exercising some independence and not depending on others to include him.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps Rose Tinted Glasses It's been three months since I made a post thanking this community for being a place for me to share my love of BL.

And since then, every day I feel a little bit more comfortable here.

This place is so special to me for so many reasons and the fact that I found it is a small miracle. I was talking with my friend Neely about something BL related and they told me that they think I'm doing much better since I came here. So thanks again.

I was never a part of any online fandom. And before BL I never really felt like I was missing something. Maybe because I always found someone irl that I could freak out about whatever I was watching I never really felt the need to go look.

And the people here are exceptionally kind. Before, I made a point to never engage much online, except for certain support groups, because of the hate that sometimes exists in certain spaces. So I was very much surprised by the kind humans that exist in this bl fandom in this corner of the internet.

Also. There is some serious brilliant people here. Look giffing is not easy, it takes a long time, sometimes you spend so much time with a set only to hate it by the end and never posting it. And sometimes you post something and you're really proud and crickets. And sometimes you post it just so it doesn't go to waste and all of a sudden it explodes. It's all part of the magic.

I keep my sets pretty simple so I'm in awe of how some people make these beautiful art pieces with layers and colouring and typography. It's incredible and I applaud your creativity and patience.

Speaking of brilliance, I'm constantly in awe of the meta writers. That shit is not easy.

It takes way longer than we think, to make it neat and readable, adding gifs or shots to illustrated a point, sometimes wasting so much time finding the gif you want in the mess that is the gif search (I understand it now, cause yesterday I was on the hunt and it would've been quicker to make the damn gifs), and reviewing it before posting, changing it in the process, sometimes leaving it in drafts because the idea is not completed. I'm tired just thinking about this. I'm not able to do that. Sure I can talk for hours about this stuff but actually organize my ideas into a coherent point of view and writing it down. Nope. Not me. So bravo meta writers. I applaud you.

And of course all the people that share the stuff that really matters. Like the colours, the wardrobe, the places we see, the news about what's coming, language nuances, pictures of the pretty people in sometimes ridiculous or beautiful outfits, sometimes the pretty people before shirts were invented, and some of the funniest commentary I ever encountered.

I don't wanna single people out by tagging them because truly there are way too many. So I just want to thank some people that helped me navigate this place and made this time so enjoyable. First and foremost. @twig-tea You were the first person I talked to here and you were so kind and patient with me and my awkwardness and lack of knowledge of how this place works. She also writes great meta and is brilliant and everyone should be following her. @lurkingshan because of the Sahara-Sensei post that you tagged me in and made me feel so seen. @pharawee because IFYLITA just wouldn't have been the same without your sets. @respectthepetty because she helped get the colour coded subs right and she appreciates the bokeh in all its glory. @itsallaboutbl for screaming with me in portuguese. @mikuni14 Because she's been so incredible kind to me. @iguessitsjustme because of many reasons. And If I ever reblogged anything from you, consider yourself tagged in this post. All of you are amazing. And finally...

@blmpff for a lot but mostly for the most unexpected and incredible moment I experienced in this short time. The day that a bird took over my dash. Khun Feathers was such a treat and this masterpiece was the highlight of the day.

image by @blmpff It's been a wonderful year and I look forward to see what happens tomorrow. Wishing you all a happy new year!💜

[absolutebl]

Do you have any recent recommendations for JBL TaiwanBL and KBL? Been rewatching only bls from 2021 2022 and I feel like I'm out of the loop for the more recent ones.

Maybe something from this year or late last year?

Great JBL, TaBL, and KBL from 2023 & first half 2024

asker added:

Genre = mostly anything. But pls avoid homophobic trauma (like Jazz for Two).

Fair. Okay here we go!

2023 Recs!

I picked mostly 9s and 10s for you with a few 8s I felt specifically might suit your taste.

I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Japan Netflix

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

Our Dating Sim

Korea Viki

This is a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.

I don't hand out 10/10 often (over 700 BLs watched, stil don't hvae 10 10/10s yet), these both got that from me in 2023. I consider both of them perfect BLs.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan Gaga

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan Gaga

A lonely salaryman (+ talented cook) gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the original yaoi (which is very dear to my heart). And they did! Paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Jun and Jun

Korea Viki

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else.

Love Tractor

Korea iQIYI

Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed, just all my favorite tropes. This show was basically a light-weight Restart After Come Back Home and I’m not even slightly mad about that. But (and you knew there was a “but” comg) something about the cringe of the final 2 eps and the impermanence of the ending (both of which highlight the fact that ultimately these 2 are I’ll-suited: too different and too far apart) left me with the feeling that they probably won’t last as a couple. However, in this case, rare for me, I forgive it this finale for my love of the rest.

The New Employee

Korea Viki

So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. Sweet & innocent (and out) Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams. On his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved (and also v gay) boss. As you do. Frankly? This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever! Directed by queer activist Kim Jho Gwang Soo (Just Friends?) partly set in the same neighbourhood as the To My Star house. Gotta love WATCHA (Semantic Error, Light on Me).

Unintentional Love Story

Korea iQIYI

OMG the plot, forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN A boy who just lost his job due to faked corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was lumous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). I’m not sure on rewatchability, and it didn’t whip me into a verbal frenzy the way some KBLs do, but it still gets a solid 9/10 for those damn eyes alone.

A Breeze of Love

Korea iQIYI

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty and pretty enjoyable" - I liked it but I don’t think I’m going to remember much about it. 

Bon Appetit

Korea iQIYI

Romance between an office worker the man from his past next door who cooks well. It was very sweet and cute tale of food as love in the All the Liquors family of KBL. I’m not wild about it, I did enjoy it, I was happy to have it show up on my dash, but ultimately it will simply become one of the KBL crowd.

Why R U?

(Korean adaptation of Thai original) iQIYI

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell?

It did, however win my best kiss of 2023 which is why it's on this list.

Stay By My Side

Taiwan Viki

I wanted to pick SOMETHING from Taiwan but my other two options both had lots of trauma in them. So I'm going with this one.

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity.

And some suggestions from 2024

I'm only suggesting stuff that has finished it's run and isn't currently airing.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

Japan Gaga

The promise of this show, younger cook courts older divorced office worker, should have been my catnip. I mean if someone pitched this to me in an elevator I would have downloaded it by the second storey. Unfortunately, it did not exactly fulfill that promise, not in the way I'd hoped. Did I still enjoy the ride, yes, but I feel just a little let down.

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu

Japan Gaga

Kindly Ryota goes to uni and ends up rooming with his former childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend for, as it turns out, cute roommate reasons. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake, the framing is gorgeous and it is a stylish piece. As a friends to lovers cohabitation narrative this was a classic 2000s sweet yaoi. I enjoy that kind of tradition out of Japan even if it (and the characters) come off as a little slow as a result. Still, it's nice to get a traditional BL out of Japan that is satisfying, not slapstick, AND did not hurt us.

[wooyoungisbaby]

@starhwa-1117 : Do you have any tips for me?:D

Art tips with Isak ✨

I won't sit here and pretend i'm some kind of amazing artist, but here are some of the things that have really helped me:

Avoid tangents This possibly sounds weird if you've never heard of the concept before, but it's the closest thing I've ever found to an actual art hack. It was a pretty easy way for me to understand something that had always bothered me about my art. I won't waste time explaining it here, because there are several great youtube videos about it. Take your pick! :) I think I watched all of them when i was figuring this all out, because i was so fascinated and happy that I finally understood what had been bothering me.

Use reference! As much as you can! Find reference for the poses, the character, objects, lighting, colour palettes, anything you can think to look up. Using reference is never cheating, unless you like... Trace someone else's work, or it veers into plagiarism in some other way. And even if it does, that's okay if you're just practicing.

Think of art as communication When you've finished a sketch, take a step back and look at it. Think to yourself, - What did I want to communicate with this piece? - Did I accomplish that so far? - If not: What can I do to communicate what I want to convey more clearly? What you wanted to communicate might be something really simple like, say, Character A is sleepy. Look at what you did to communicate that. If you want it to be even clearer still, look up reference of sleepy characters in the same art style you're drawing in, see what other artists have done to communicate sleepiness, and then steal their techniques lol<3 (but like fr)

Avoid overcomplication Of course some pieces are meant to be super complicated with teeny details, and if that's your thing, go for it! However, I find that especially with character design, it's often a good idea to try to go as simple as possible. And I don't mean boring!! Let me make an example,

See how 2 gets across the same idea, but a lot simpler, easier to read? In picture 2, each item is bigger and has its purpose, whereas in picture 1, some of the items are very small and can drown out when the viewer is trying to take it all in at once. This is not to say that 1 is bad or wrong, not at all! If you're drawing a close up portrait of someone with that style of 984343 hair accessories, by all means draw all of them! But if for example you're designing a character that's going to be shown in a full- or half body shot, or even landscape shots, it can be really helpful to think about how you can easily get the design across as simply as possible, without sacrificing your character's uniqueness.

Doodle :) Draw little sillies that are just for fun, and aren't meant to be good. In tandem with reference, find out what works for you, how you can most easily - and enjoyably - get your drawings to express what you want them to. Experiment with materials or different brushes and programs, see what feels good to use :)

Drawfee Just a little plug here at the end, Drawfee is a youtube channel where the hosts do art, talk, and have fun. They do patreon art lesson streams with a WIDE variety of topics, and they upload the lessons afterwards on youtube for free! This is one of my favourite ones, just two one of them doodling and chilling :) They have a lesson on making fonts, perspective, several on anatomy and character design, effective ways to practice, composition, animation, and the list goes on. This is hashtag not sponsored lol, i just really love them and their content :)

[mindfangfun]

Okay, I know this is like kind of an awkward ask but do have any advice when interacting with the homestuck community?

I've been reading this comic on and off for months now and I haven't really interacted much with people that much.

Or if you can't help with that just tell me some neet facts. I'm about 7500 pages in right now.

:>

HELLOOO !!! i love questions like this it isn't awkward at all, my main advice ( but not only advice ) is just to try to be open minded when it comes to the homestuck fandom!

the fandom is really fun and enjoyable as long as you keep a open mind to other fans opinions / theories and ships its really fun to see everyone's favorite characters, acts and whatnot! there's such a cool variety of fans from all over the world and imo what makes this fandom so great is other opinions that fans have that may be different than yours!

another great way to start interacting with the homestuck fandom is just engage in conversations about it online! like asking / telling favorites characters always works well . If your more artistic  another GREAT way to interact and contribute is making fanart , edits , cosplays and what not!

social media platforms I recommend for meeting other homestuck fans that are pretty nice and interactive is twitter or of course tiktok ( although i find twitter to be the easiest one for me )

a good way to get reach on twitter to find like minded fans is adding hashtag #homestuck to your posts or simply just following some homestuck fans until some follow you back!

that's all i hope that was somewhat helpful , i know these seem pretty simple but that's really all it takes :).

A little Homestuck fun fact for you is that most of the homestuck characters ( specifically the trolls ) were named by fans as the comic was organically coming out ! 

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reblogs & questions appreciated !