#mostly to like... help clear up my dash on main

[therequiemforthelost-archive]

Not compleeeeetely sold on the idea yet, but there may be a url change or a whole ass blog move in the future

[mjjune]

How To Have a Good Beta Reading Experience (or: what I've learned from 3 years of beta reading)

So lately I've been having a lot of discussions about beta reading with my discord groups so I thought I would write it out here and also share some resources I've used over the years.

This is mostly by and for writers, however readers can learn from this post as well!

DISCLAIMER: I'm by no means a writing expert, but I have been either beta reading others' books, or having my own stories beta read consistently since 2020. THIS IS ALL PERSONAL EXPERIENCE/OPINION. Others may agree or disagree ❤️

Here are the main points I'm going to talk about in this post, and I'll do it under the cut to save your dash space:

Understanding Alpha vs. Beta Readers

Choosing Readers

Being Clear About Feedback

Swapping / Compensation

The Importance of Writing Community/Groups

Websites/Resources for Finding Beta Readers

1. Understanding Alphas vs. Betas

So this is extremely important and for me, this may be the difference between me finishing your book or not. Many times, especially from new writers who had never had anyone read their work before, had extremely rough drafts that were barely coherent and were NOT beta ready, but asked me to beta read. I am not a person who can look past extensive grammar errors, nor am I the kind of person who will sit and fix all your grammar line-by-line for you.

Alpha Readers - for first/second drafts

Beta Readers - for polished drafts

It is ok for alpha reads to be unpolished and have grammar issues, and it's even ok if they have plot issues, continuity errors, etc. Because alpha readers are there for that purpose: to be the first eyes on your story and help you find and fix those issues.

The issue I have had over and over, though, is people asking for a beta reader when what they really needed was an alpha. I went in expecting a polished draft and got someone's Draft 0. In some cases, I got 100k drafts where the writer obviously had no idea how to format dialogue grammar and every single dialogue was wrong. Obviously this made me slow and in many cases, unable to finish.

Alpha readers will go in expecting it to be unpolished, and will be prepared to look past grammar/stylistic errors in order to focus on the big picture issues (plot holes, character consistency, pacing/engagement issues, etc). A Beta may be too frustrated by an unpolished draft to finish it or provide the feedback you're looking for. If you have been experiencing a lot of betas backing out and not finishing your work, you might consider this as a possible reason why.

I would also recommend, if you have never had anyone read your work before, even if you have had multiple drafts, it might be safest to ask for alphas rather than betas.

A quick way to see if your work is beta ready (again, personal experience): Pick up a published book from the shelf in your genre. Does your book read similarly? Does your formatting & grammar look the same? Bonus: read it out loud! If reading the published book out loud is significantly easier than reading yours out loud, you're probably in the alpha stage.

TL;DR: Understand your draft and which level of reader your draft is ready for. Know the difference between polished and unpolished, and be upfront about it.

2. Choosing Alphas/Betas

You may not like it but: Just because someone is your friend, real life or online, does not mean they will make a good reader for you.

#1 MOST IMPORTANT: GET READERS WHO LIKE & REGULARLY READ YOUR GENRE!

I cannot stress this enough. As someone who writes vampire content, I cannot begin to express to you the amount of useless comments I got from readers who had clearly never read a vampire book in their life.

You need someone who is familiar with your genre and you likes your synopsis/blurb.

Caveat: that said, I did find a few great betas who had never read vampire content before and gave awesome feedback. However, these readers knew and admitted they knew nothing about the paranormal genre, and because of that did not make any comments on worldbuilding, instead sticking to plot and character development only. Some readers can't make this separation.

Another thing I would recommend, especially if you are swapping or the beta reader is also a writer/on writeblr, I would recommend reading their writing before having them beta read. If you read their excerpts and see that it's really unpolished or a style that's vastly different than yours, that might change whether you want them to read for you.

In my most recent beta round, I used a google form to do a quick survey to see who was interested in beta reading. This worked really well for me and I would recommend it! You can also use this to make all potential readers agree to not share/distribute/plagiarize your work, so you have it in writing just in case someone were to try something.

This was also a great way to see which genres they usually read and how many times they have beta read in the past!

TL;DR: Get readers who LIKE your genre. Read their writing and see how they write. Use an online signup form to narrow down.

3. Be Clear About The Type of Feedback You Want

This is perhaps the second most important thing when you get readers. Many readers will shy away from reading your work if you have nothing in mind for them to look out for. Also, being clear about this shows that you 1) know it isn't perfect and needs work and 2) you have insight into what the issues already are.

For Alphas, these traits are what I have found to be the most helpful:

Immediate inline reactions - particularly emotional engagement and pointing out lines that resonated with them

NO grammar/stylistic comments (unless incomprehensible)

Questioning of worldbuilding, character decisions, and character development - particularly if confusing or unclear

Comments on action sequences & their readability

Comments on believability of the plot points/progression

For Betas, these are what have been most helpful to me:

Comments on grammar, especially if repetitive

Stylistic comments, particularly for over-used words or noticeably repetitive sentence structures

Comments on pacing

Comments on plot initiation point and buildup/execution of the climax

Not questioning my worldbuilding/plot and trusting that what I have written is intentional. Only pointing out areas that have on-page evidence of inconsistencies.

Everything above is simply personal preference. You might find other comments to be better for alphas/betas. However, being upfront about which comments you want or don't want can drastically change which people want to read for you!

Some readers are obsessed with in-depth inline grammar/style comments, some aren't at all. Some writers LOVE these in-depth grammar comments, and some don't. Being clear about what you want is the best way to make sure you and your readers are compatible for the stage of editing you're at.

4. Swapping / Compensation

So this one I might have a bit of an unpopular opinion, but I wanted to cover it because so many people talk about it on here and other sites.

Again, based on my personal experience, swapping and compensation does not mean you're going to get better feedback or have a better experience or relationship with readers.

For the record, for everyone who beta reads for me—and finishes—I always offer to read theirs, even if it's a genre I don't like.

Personally, I have never tried compensation (re: money) for beta readers. However, there are a few issues I've come across with swapping:

Mine was beta ready and theirs was unpolished first draft

Our types of feedback didn't align

Our genre preferences didn't align

Their feedback was nowhere near as high quality or constructive as mine

In these cases, one or both of us burnt out on reading the others' work, and then we'd both bail. Especially with #4, it was very disheartening for me to spend hours finding their plot holes, helping them come up with ways to fix them, for them to then write 1 paragraph about what they thought of my story that was extremely surface level. To me, that wasn't even a swap, and was practically worthless. There was even one who got sensitive about the feedback I was providing (which was a queer sensitivity read) and then left almost identical comments on my story, which weren't even relevant. It was like revenge-commenting.

All this to say: I have had positive experiences with swaps. My alpha for twtr was a swap and I really enjoy her work and she enjoys mine, and we will probably continue to swap forever.

This goes back to #2 above: be picky & choose your readers well. Your story is your baby, and it deserves to be critiqued by people who value you and your story, and want to help you make it the best possible version of itself.

To summarize, I have had two good swapping experiences. I have had 10+ good uncompensated betas—with an offer for me to read their stuff when it's ready. Do with that what you will.

5. Writing Community / Groups

On to a more positive note! I have had the best experience here on writeblr, and this is coming from someone who has tried multiple other communities (which I discuss in the last section below). Having my own discord server from tumblr, joining a few other writers' discord servers, has completely changed the game regarding finding consistent betas, more resources, and just having an overall much more positive time writing and editing.

Writeblr keeps me grounded, keeps me hopeful, and even if I share something that doesn't get tons of notes, it's so nice to have interaction. It's so nice to give and get back, consistently.

I do want to emphasize the importance of giving to get back. If no one is liking/interacting with your excerpts, tag/ask games, etc. then that's probably because you're not interacting with them! It's very important to show interest in other people's work!!

I'm not saying you need to jump onto everyone's taglists for all their wips, but join the ones that genuinely interest you the most. Play in ask/tag games consistently. Follow writers back who follow you (if they post things you're interested in, ofc).

I have the same amount of followers as the people I follow right now, and I think that goes to show that people reciprocate here on writeblr! It's a lovely community and don't be afraid to reach out ❤️

I have found almost ALL my recent betas from my tumblr and discord groups. They have been lovely so far and I would highly recommend building up community here if you are interested in finding betas.

6. Websites/Resources for Finding Betas

Alright, last section. Thanks for bearing with me. I'm going to go through the sites I have used, and why I still use them, or why I dropped them.

Scribophile

So, for starters, this is one I don't use anymore. This was the site I first used when I had a polished draft in 2020 and had no idea how to get feedback. Essentially, they have a point-system. The more comments you make, the more points you get, and then when you have 3 points, you can post a chapter. It continues in a cycle.

Pros: Personally, I think the site helped me a lot in realizing what a bad critique looks like (which is helpful!) and also helped me learn which comments/feedback types work for me, and which don't. I don't regret my time there by any means, and I found one life-long friend and beta reader there I wouldn't trade for the world. It also allows you to post/remove your story and the readers don't have direct access to it—meaning if they want to download/steal/plagiarize, they'd have to copy and paste or screenshot chapter by chapter. It's a little safety precaution.

Cons: It's not the best place to get constructive feedback. The issue with their system is it encourages quantity over quality in critiques. Because of that, you'll get strangers rewriting your entire chapter in their own style so they get 2-3 points for one critique, but... was any of it actually helpful to you? Maybe, maybe not. It's also random, so you can't control who comments on your stuff, and they might just comment to get points even if they hate your genre. I also don't think it's fair to have to do 3-5 chapter critiques in order to save up enough points to post ONE chapter of your own. And if you want to post your story for full beta reads and control who reads it and who doesn't, you have to subscribe monthly.

So I keep an eye on it occasionally to look through their forums on writing, agents, publishing, etc. But most of the forums gets nasty, because there are a lot of really pretentious writers who think they know all the rules. If you join small groups (e.g. sub-groups based on diversity, etc) they tend to have better and more meaningful discussions.

Personally, I would never use it for beta/alpha/feedback ever again. This is the site where most of my bad swaps came from. But you might find it useful! So I thought I would share it.

Nanowrimo Forums

This is another one I don't use anymore, but might consider reusing in the future. The biggest issue I have with nanowrimo is that a lot, and I mean A LOT, of these participants are first-time writers and have no concept of what polished vs. unpolished even means. I did find two really good swaps there (actually the only two good full swaps I've had) but those were very hard to find.

There is also the issue that a good chunk of them only write during November, not year round. So for finding consistent, year-long partners, this is not the best option. I'm a member of 2 discords that have all fallen silent as soon as Nano actually ended.

Also, in my experience, asking questions about anything related to "controversial" topics (especially trans and minority ethnic groups) becomes toxic very quick, which is unfortunate. There are even a few moderators who seem to be contributing to the toxic/immature discussions rather than fixing them/shutting them down, which is the main reason I stopped using it.

However, it's a GREAT place to get free, simple covers! Their artisan section is fantastic and there are a lot of people there willing to make basic covers/banners for you for free.

BetaBooks

I've only been using this one about a month so far, but I'm really liking it. It's set up that you can invite betas to your story specifically, or you can look through a beta reader library, read their profiles, and invite them to see if they're interested.

This is essentially an alternative to Scribophile. It allows you to post your story online and find betas and become a beta.

Why I like it better than Scribophile: it's not a point-based system, meaning it's uncompensated so the readers have nothing to gain other than enjoying/helping your story. There's no hard feelings if someone bails. It allows you to see all comments in one place (which Scrib can't do). (And with discount codes found through google, it's cheaper, too. Message me if you need help with this 👀)

It also is all online, easily removable, so readers would have to copy/paste or screenshot chapter-by-chapter to steal it. So again, just a little safety net that makes me feel better.

Writeblr

Yep, that's right. Right here. Actually right here on tumblr has been where I have found the most beta readers and in the shortest time. I talked about this in the section before so I won't regurgitate. But there's a reason why this community is so long-lasting. It really is the best one out there I've found.

TL;DR / IN CONCLUSION:

Know where your book is in terms of reader-readiness. Know the difference between alphas/betas and polished/unpolished. Know the types of feedback that work for you and specifically request it when recruiting betas.

Interact with a community. Give interaction in order to receive, and don't expect people to reblog/like your content if you don't reach out first. Join small, niche writing community discords. Find like-minded writers.

Decide to swap or not, but this won't make or break you.

There are many writing communities out there designed to help you not only find betas, to provide beta-reading feedback forms and commentary. Try them out and see what works best for you.

And above all, thank Writeblr for being such a lovely community ❤️

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review VIII

This week's Sunday in review is sponsored by your local Farmer's Market sugared doughnuts, proudly provided by @secretelephanttattoo IYKYK 🍩

Hope everyone had a good week this week! 🙌 Tumblr is still doing it's thing with it's notifications in my activity tab. It's mostly just full of likes and some mentions (I still come across a couple on my dash I wasn't notified of), but mostly it's affecting reblogs. Anyway, if you have something you think I'd be interested in seeing or want to share - feel free to send me an Ask/DM or tag me!

Light reading week again, but it's not to say it wasn't filled with some gems!

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

Happy Birthday (Joel)

W H A T I R E A D . . .

Grocery List (Frankie) by @frenchiereading I'm a sucker for domestic fluff and even more so when it stems from the Shared Breaths universe 💕 - not going to spoil this one if you haven't read the main series (which I will always shout out) - but there's a broccoli recipe here that still makes my mouth water when I think about it and I really want to try making it (if only I could conjure Frankie just as easily)

You’re Perfect for Me (Marcus P.) by @boliv-jenta The Marcus Pike thots were out in full effect this week and it started for me with this little one shot. Marcus needing some help unwinding from a tough day? Sign me up!

machine wash warm (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie some more domesticity, this time from our boy Marcus (he's made for it really) and while short, it doesn't skimp on the feelings and a man who will wash your bedding and deal with the fitted sheet? Yes please!

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 6: Jeeps, Texts, and Sliders (Triple Frontier) by @rhoorl This series has be in a permanent choke hold and I'll eat up anything Jess puts out (have you checked out her Dieter series and her Frankie one shot, because you should!) and this series is the gift that keeps on giving and helps satisfy my Will Miller thots. This weeks installment is no different - we've got tensions building with Will and Katie, Benny and his big brother relationship with Connor, Santiago being Santiago and David living his best life (I want to be his bestie). Hands down one of the best things to come from thots over the Delta boys clearing Reader's garden in @goodwithcheese's 'Layover Series' (which you should read too)

The House (Jack) by @gemmahale I was so happy to get started on this series this week! The week took a left turn and I couldn't devour the rest of it as I wanted, but this is on the docket to catch with this week! It's full of intrigue and mystery and that's just the first chapter! I can't wait to see how this plays out with Andrea getting reacquainted with her grandfathers property and the history it holds.

glass (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie I could be bias because this was written based on the prompts I sent over for Bea's fifty follower celebration, but it doesn't need that, because it's so good all in on it's own! We've got fluff, we've got Marcus (did I mention it's Marcus?), we've got some spice and we've got action! I'm never one to pressure authors to write fanfics, but if Bea were ever to expand on this I'd be all over it.

Butter (Joel) by fuckyeahdindjardin A happy birthday celebration for our main man Joel Miller was more of a gift to us I think. This is so incredibly sweet (pun fully intended) and was just a delight to read that had me squealing all the way through with it's toe curling pure fluff at it's best. In need of a birthday cake to bring home Joel comes across Reader closing up for the night and in exchange for fixing her shutter, she bakes him a cake. Don't sleep on this one!

What Do We Have Here (Javier P.) by @secretelephanttattoo El treated us twice this week! Now I'm still behind on Narcos (hey, I managed an extra episode this week, now a staggering five and a half episodes in!), but even if you didn't have a clue who Elisa was, the spiciness of this fic would soon make up for it! I also learnt a new word, epaulettes. Smut and education in one fanfic? What more can you ask for?

Headshots (Marcus P.) by @secretelephanttattoo Okay, the second of El's offerings this week? Not only has she been bringing the Marcus thots this week, but the fluff too! Imagine showing up to the FBI headquarters to take head shots for the agents and running into Marcus Pike multiple times over the course of a week? Wait, you don't have to! El has crafted it for us and I hear there may be a second part (series?) in the works!

Hypothermia (Joel) by @morallyinept I am the worst camper, so much so Joel Miller would probably leave my sorry ass for the clickers after the grief he'd have with me. But I hope that would be after I get to snuggle up to him for just warmth...

M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .

I had some interesting confessions in my Ask Inbox: Joel Thots + Oscar's Cupcakes

All of @penaonthestreets-javiinthesheets's mood boards, because they are all a mooood and a delicious delight for the eyes

The Gif™️ thots were out in full force

Maggie getting the Marcus Pike Puddles going with pancakes and cuddles visuals

Will Miller visual thots, I don't need an excuse to enjoy this over and over again.

B R O U G H T T H E J O Y . . .

How well and truly this community is so lovely - I had a really shitty day at work yesterday and by time I logged in later that night I had some wonderful messages, tags and mentions from absolutely amazing people. I can't even remember how I stumbled back onto Tumblr, but I'm so glad I did. This space really can feel like you're shouting into the abyss sometimes, but sometimes you get a response back with a 'my thots too' and you start to build your own little community.

I think I mentioned it the other day, but likes and numbers really won't hold their value. It's the reblogs with the comments, the thousand gifs/emojis or the back and forth discussions of WIP's in DM's that really make this all the worthwhile.

And also a Costco sized container of pico de gallo... it's about balance friends. But seriously, I've pushed the limits of what I can put it on this week.

T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .

This week's song is brought to us by my Chiffon feels as I got back into writing for Dieter x Bryony and this song is very them coded...

Hope everyone is having a fabulous Sunday, whatever it is you're doing and I wish you all a great week ahead! 💕

[flowersbane]

Hey Flowersbane I saw your requests post and thought Id send one in if that’s cool (*´꒳`*). Could I ask for a cute Joshua/Jote fic about one of the days they use to travel together, maybe where they finally take a days rest in one of the towns on their way to another lead, and Jote has to take care of Joshua so his condition doesn’t worsen? I hope that helps! (๑>◡<๑)

um, yes, absolutely, anon, you have inspired me greatly, thank you so much for your request! i hope you like it (=´∀｀)人(´∀｀=)

Stop & Smell the Roses, pt. 1

Joshua Rosfield x Jote

I tried to keep it concise, but I may have gotten ahead of myself. I’m definitely going to have to write a part 2 later, but I always get so eager & want to post what I have so far so here we are. I'll post this to AO3 once I've written the second part. At least there it can be a one shot. (lol)

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Flower Festival, Jote Taking Care of Joshua, Joshua Being Joshua, Jote Getting A Wee Bit Frustrated, Unedited, Faerin Try To Write A One Shot Challenge: Failed

You can read part 2 here!

Jote was beginning to think the entire world was one big obstacle. Dhalmekia’s air was too dry, Sanbreque’s weather was too cold, and everywhere they went, someone was bound to be searching for them. Her and Joshua had been following a lead about an ancient text, holed up in the Crystalline Dominion’s oldest library. His Grace’s eagerness had kept them moving fast. The consequences of such were becoming more and more apparent each day.

The final village before their destination rolled into view. Jote quickened her pace to ensure that all was well. A few stray merchants traveled down the main road, but the path was otherwise clear. “Your Grace, I believe-”

Her words were interrupted by a coughing fit. Jote ran back to Joshua’s side, brows drawn with worry. “Your Grace?”

“I am fine,” he insisted. As he always did. “We can continue on to-”

Another bout of coughs stole the words from his mouth. Jote retrieved her canteen and passed it to him. He steadied himself enough to drink, but the water did little for his obvious exhaustion. “Your Grace, if we do not stop here, we will not make it to the city before dark. I beg of you, allow us to rest for the night in a warm inn, so you might recover some of your strength.”

He looked like he might continue arguing with her, so she kept speaking first. “You must allow me to take care of you, Your Grace. It would cost us many more days should you collapse on the road. I can see that you are tired, we both are, so please…”

His blue eyes studied her for a telling length of time. He wanted to press on, but he knew she spoke the truth. After a long pause, he finally relented. “Very well, Jote. We will rest here for the night and make for the city in the morning.”

Relief washed over her, but her expression remained mostly placid. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

They closed the distance between them and the village. It was small, with hardly any bearers in sight. Despite that, the town seemed to be in high spirits. Strings of flowers were strung over walkways, hung in place by nearby buildings. Brightly colored cloths decorated the walls, each intricately embroidered with large roses of varying designs. Villagers dashed from place to place, many of them carrying large, wooden crates. Joshua’s pace slowed. “What is all of this?”

A passing woman with a long, golden braid caught his words and responded, “Why, it’s the Festival of Bloom, of course. You’re lucky to have come when you did. The festival only comes once a year. And tomorrow’s the first day.” She gestured to a nearby store. “My dad sells the best rose wine in town and don’t let no one else tell you otherwise. Especially that good-for-nothing Lancel Saragon. His wine tastes like it was fished straight from the sewage.”

Jote wrinkled her nose at the imagery, but Joshua only smiled faintly. “I will be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Aye, you’d better. For your own sake too.”

The woman carried on, leaving Joshua and Jote to move forward as well. As they walked, Jote spoke. “It’s been a long time since we’ve happened upon an event such as this.”

“It has,” His Grace agreed. “It makes me wonder if this is some sort of sign.”

Jote turned her face to look at his. “Your Grace?”

A complicated smile overtook his features. “It is nothing,” he claimed. “Let us find a place to rest.”

The inn was near the town’s center. It was a building two stories high and made from dark wood. Joshua kept his hood up as they entered the building.

“Welcome,” greeted the innkeeper, “how may we be of service?”

“One room, two beds, please,” Jote said.

He pulled out a key from behind his desk. “We charge the standard rate. Your room is on the second floor. Go to your right, all the way down, and it’s the final room on your right.”

Jote paid the innkeeper and took the keys. When she turned back to face Joshua, she did not miss the way his hand fell to his side. She knew he had been pressing it to his chest in search of some relief. And, of course, he was trying to hide it from her.

“Lord Margrace,” she offered her arm as they neared the stairs.

She knew he was still getting used to accepting her help, even after all these years. His hesitation was predictable, but, thankfully, he accepted her offer. She supported him the entire way up, but he still began coughing once they reached the top. A line of worry formed between her brows. “Your condition is worse than you’ve led me to believe,” she observed.

“I am fine.”

She remained skeptical but continued to lead the way down the hall.

The room was ordinary. Two beds on either side of the room. A window across from the door. A desk and chair to their left, pressed up against the northern wall. Joshua sat on the bed closest to the window, as was his preference. Jote dropped her belongings on her bed and began to get to work.

“You should lay down, Your Grace. I will have your medicine ready shortly.”

Joshua remained sitting. “Do you think they will have special dishes for this event?” His question was so sudden that it made Jote freeze in her motion. Joshua recognized her surprise and quickly attempted to back pedal. “I was just thinking… it could be a good time to restock on supplies that are difficult to come by.”

She knew that was not what he had been thinking. She chose her next words carefully, as though she were attempting to coax a rabbit from its burrow. “There is a high possibility that the festival will draw in merchants from across the dominion,” she said, “maybe even beyond that.” She approached him with his medicine, placing it on the bedside table next to him. “If you are concerned about restocking, perhaps it would be best if we waited a day or two to see if more merchants arrive with valuable wares.”

His Grace seemed to consider this, nodding vaguely. “There were already a good amount of merchants on the road…”

“Yes,” Jote jumped at the opportunity, “there are bound to be more to come.”

Joshua made a final, decisive nod. “Alright, then we shall remain here for another day. Tomorrow, we will search the market for supplies.” She could have sworn she saw the corners of his lips curve upwards before he quickly pulled his mask of stoicism over his head. “You should get some rest as well, Jote.”

He laid back. Jote gave him a somewhat unamused stare. “Your medicine, Your Grace.” He hadn’t forgotten. He had only hoped that she would.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He sat back up. He took the bottle in his hand but hesitated. “Jote, could you get the lamp?”

She got to her feet and did as he bid. When she turned back to him, he was bringing his hand down from his lips and placing the bottle back on the nightstand. She knew that if she opened the bottle, she would find it still full of medicine. She tried to communicate with him without words, but he was already laying back down with his back turned towards her.

“Thank you, Jote. Sleep well.”

She sighed. She would just have to hope that he would be more willing in the morning.

| • |

She did not have to wait until morning. Joshua’s coughing woke her only a few hours later. She sat up, expecting to see him in his bed, but startled when she saw that he was instead sitting on the windowsill. She yanked the blankets from herself. “Your grace!” she hissed.

He coughed a final time before looking over his shoulder at her. “Jote, apologies. I did not mean to wake you.” His words were followed by another coughing fit.

Jote stopped by his side, trying to control her frustration with him. Why, in good Greagor’s name, would he think she was upset at him for waking her? “First you refuse your medicine and then you refuse to rest. Remind me again, Your Grace, why we’ve stopped here if not for the betterment of your health.”

“I-” He stopped abruptly. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. Instead, he tried to change the direction of their conversation. “I have never seen you so angry.”

For a brief moment, it worked. She flinched back, embarrassed that she let her temper get the better of her, but then she recognized the glint in his eyes, the curve of his mouth. She frowned again. “Your Grace, please.”

He sighed. His attention turned back to the scene laid out before them. The town was alight with festivities. Glowing lights, distant music. “Forgive me, Jote. The scenery was just…” He trailed off.

Jote felt her heart soften. She dared to rest her hands on the sill, dared to follow his gaze.

It was as though the town had captured stars from the sky and lit their streets with them. In the dark, it was a lake’s reflection of the night sky. “There is nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I only wish that you would take care of yourself. Or, at least, allow me to take care of you.”

His blue eyes found her. She could make out his features in the low light, but even if it were pitch black outside, she would be able to picture him. He may wear a hood most of the time, but she was infinitely familiar with his face. She felt the rest of the world fade as she focused on him.

“Alright, Jote. I will go to sleep.”

He began coming down from the window sill. She had to step back to give him enough room to complete his maneuver. He stumbled on the way back down. She jolted forward to support him. She wrapped an arm around his waist as he draped his arm over her shoulders. “Let me help you to bed, Your Grace.”

He nodded. She helped him lower himself into a lying position. When she began to pull away, he grabbed her hand. He was gentle, but the gesture was unexpected enough to startle her. “I will take my medicine now,” he said.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She took the bottle from the table and opened it. She looked to him for permission before placing one of her hands under his head, the other carefully guiding the bottle to his lips.

His hair was soft between her fingers. She focused on maintaining the tilt of the medicine bottle. He drank it, but made a face as it went down. Once all the medicine was gone, she pulled the bottle back and sealed it once more.

“Thank you, Jote.”

She sat back on the edge of his bed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure I would have perished long ago without you by my side. I know it has not always easy, but I’m glad you have remained with me.”

The rate of her heartbeat picked up. “I wouldn’t leave your side for anything, Your Grace. For anything.”

A soft smile graced his lips as the medicine began kicking in, guiding him into an easy slumber.

(Link to part 2)

[antimony-medusa]

starting off this reply by saying you're way more coherent than I'll ever be and you've managed to sum up all the main points my silly anon vent post made and more.

my hatred of dadza assignments is less going after people minding their own business but more the people making their theories everyone's business through character critique threads. i was tired of people attacking cPhil not being an all-seeing all-knowing paternal therapist for far too many people on the old server who were going through their sad cubito arcs (when at most he was an acquaintance), and I'm slightly horrified watching qPhil being attacked/ mischaracterised to fit the same narrative in the exact same way right now on a completely separate server. i could copy and paste arguments used against innitwt fans who went too far then and apply it to qsmptwt fans who are going too far now, qPhil hasn't been assigned the abusive/absent side character in many qsmp fanfics just yet but time and flat circle etc etc

honestly it sucks because during purgatory the BOLAS cult/family fan reaction was fun! and maybe it was because it was in it's early stages or creators weren't focusing on their angst-filled individual lore at the time but people were (mostly) making dark cannibalistic AUs and art and just exploring potential dynamics, instead of assuming fanon=canon and delving into the very familiar 3 stages you mentioned (wiki writers being a notable exception as per usual)

point C is just describing how twitter works, most stans think that if they make enough noise their chosen creator or entire fandom will bend to their will. as Tubbo said it's not that deep

Yeah! Yeah I am in full agreement here. I ended up deleting my response to that post cause I felt like I'd gotten too far off track for the question, but I think it escaped containment first, so, hello. Continued conversation. :D To be clear, I didn't think you were out of line at all, you just hit me in a moment where I'd been doing some reflections about what I post, and I'm personally trying to remind myself to not go out here posting stuff like "shipping is the only moral way to do fandom, family dynamic is BAD", because if I think about it for more than a second that's an absurd thing to say, and it's not helpful. We're all being kind of weird here, family dynamic is not too far out of line when we're talking about Things To Headcanon With Cubitos.

However, I DO think there's an issue in the fandom with people telling themselves that shipping = bad but family dynamic = good, and then doing everything that shipping wars lead into, including demonizing other characters for the sake of their ship family dynamic, and throwing characterization and canon out the window for the sake of their ship family dynamic. And then they put it on the wiki. Seeing people take non-canon family dynamics and then write character crit analysis moments about how people are reacting badly within it is aughghghghghghghhghghghghgh <I am become that person falling down a minecraft chimney again. But then again, I am never a fan of character crit moments in the first place, I am more a person who sits at my screen like "ooo, more war crimes? is it my birthday?" I am a fan of the murder war crimes guy, why are you writing serious posts on my dash about how he's a bad person because he's not emotionally available to his daughter (editor's note: they don't mean his real daughter, they mean a grown woman doing a bit). I see character crit posts and immediately start taking -1hp poison damage per round.

Yeah as someone who DID enjoy BOLAS in purgatory, most of the bolas tag on Ao3 is not written in such a way that I'd enjoy it, I like those guys as a found family slash cult, not as a bio family, heaven's sake. These are guys making up rituals in a death game, the way I see it, not a fluffy OR angsty family. However there are still a FEW people writing bolas in a fun way that's fun to me (check out response to danger by insomniawillow if you are open to some more e-rated concepts and writing), so I'm not entirely ready to go full blocked tags on it.

Mostly after so long in the dadza mines in the DSMP I'm just tearfully going "please, please, can we talk about the real guy as an adult and a peer, not as a dad, look he has his own kids you can talk about now, can he be a peer to the other streamers, please" and then I break down weeping piteously. It's fun times seeing what twitter is doing, I'll tell you.

[dmwrites]

Scar was a man of business. With a cunning smirk, an ability to talk himself out of almost any situation, and the clear success of all of his businesses (trust him), he considered himself pretty good at it. Definitely.

The problem with being such a successful businessman is that everyone else seemed to want to know all of his knowledge. So many people came to his door and begged for help.

“Oh, handsome Scar, how did you become the best mayor in the world?”

“Scar, you ravishing man, how did your elvish cookie empire top the Hermitcraft food landscape?”

“The Swaggon was a moment and nothing will ever reach such capitalistic magnitude.”

And so on and so on. He kept most of his business secrets under wraps, mostly because he just used dumb luck and charm, but no need for any of the other hermits to know. But perhaps, in the back of his mind, he had known that he’d need to keep such secrets for a moment like this.

Scar was broke, to put it mildly. First there was the cleaning lady services, who had charged a hefty price for cleaning up a few minor chest monsters. Then there had been Bdubs’ head stand. Then, of course, mass ordering all of his Scarland-branded foods and souvenirs, and now all of the stone and dirt needed for his landscapes. He had his redstone shop, sure, which raked in diamonds, but he was spending them just as fast.

“Jellie, I need to make some extra money. But what on earth could I do?” Scar was going down the Main Street of Scarland, with Jellie in his lap. “I already run a redstone store.” Jellie meowed, and Scar scoffed in offense. “How dare you- I stock that shop every… once in a while… I’ve been busy, anyway. We, Jellie, have been busy! As a man of business, i always have to… that’s it!” Scar stopped so suddenly that he disturbed Jellie, and she hopped off of his lap. “Jellie! I could hold a business class! Business 101 with Goodtimeswithscar! Everyone is always asking for my advice on making the best business on the server, and I’m sure i can think of some tips to give! Jellie, it’s perfect!”

So, the advertisements went up all over the shopping district, for a class with the one and only Scar, a self-proclaimed master of business. When the day came, it was to find Scar in his redstone shop, sweating slightly. He’d turned the display tables into places to sit, and he had Jellie there for emotional support. Grian came in first, because Scar had made him come, soon followed by Impulse, Cub, Xisuma, Pearl, and Joe Hills. They each paid a diamond block, and sat down at the tables.

“Well hello there, everyone!” Scar said, coming to the center of the room. “Welcome to the very first Business 101 class with your dashing teacher, me, Goodtimeswithscar. You’re all here, I assume, to learn the ins and outs of business?”

“I’m here to learn all your secrets and take you down from the inside.” Cub said casually, already taking notes.

“You paid me to be here.” Grian said, feet up on the table.

“… I think I’m in the wrong place, this isn’t Hermits Helping Hermits, is it?” Joe asked in distress.

“Amazing.” Scar said, smiling. “Well, students, my first lesson to you all is this- charisma. If you have charisma, you can get almost anything you’d like- I’m sure each and every one of you has been lured in by my charisma at some point, it is the Goodtimeswithscar way. So, I’d like each of you to partner up and try to sell one another something using your charisma.”

Impulse and Pearl partnered up- Pearl had found some redstone dust and was blowing bits of it at Impulse whenever he opened his mouth. Xisuma and Cub also partnered up, and by the looks of it, Cub had already somehow convinced Xisuma to give him five diamonds. That put Grian and Joe Hills together. Scar walked over to these two, and caught a bit of their conversation.

“… consider this- it would be funny.” Grian was saying.

“Grian.” Joe replied quite patiently, but with a tinge of urgency and stress. “The thing is, such things often work out for you, but not me. It’s like the charisma that Scar was talking about.”

“Good to see someone was paying attention, at least.” Scar said, placing a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “What are we trying to sell over here, my friends?”

“We stopped doing that- I think we should attach all the redstone components together and see what would happen.” Grian said. “For enrichment.”

“No, let’s not do that…” Scar replied, but was distracted by the squeaking of rubbery plastic against the floor. Doc shuffled in, crocs in sports mode, and went right for the repeaters box. “Doc, the store is not open right now!” Scar called.

“Like hell it is, I’ve been working on this project for four days straight.” Doc grumbled.

“I- okay, whatever.” Scar sighed. He went to put his hand back on Joe’s shoulder, but found nothing. “Where did Joe go?” He looked to Grian to find his seat empty too. “Grian?”

There was a sudden explosion, and everyone jumped back. Standing in what had once been a corner of Scar’s shop, crocs still in sports mode, was Doc, who was covered in soot. Beyond Doc and the smoking crater that had probably once contained some boxes was Joe, who, by the looks of it, had combined all of the redstone components together, and Grian, who had attached it to the box Doc had opened.

“Wha- Joe, Grian, why?” Scar asked into the silence.

“Well, I was kind of curious what would happen.” Joe admitted sheepishly.

“Same.” Grian said, a huge grin on his face.

“And that, my friends, is charisma in action!” Scar said, motioning to the smoking crater. “Grian and Joe, you both get an A for the day, everyone else has homework. Now, for extra credit, who can convince DocM here not to kill Joe and Grian?”

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Hi!! I waited a bit to ask this bc I didn't want to overwhelm you or anything, but I've been wanting to ask about your Greatest Showman au?? Could you talk about that please :O

OMG hello!! I cannot tell you how happy I was to get this ask-

I am. ALWAYS happy to talk about my aus, please feel free to send me ANYTHING at ANY time /gen :D!!!

Greatest Showman AU!!!! Of course!! It has been a long time since I talked about this au, and there's.......different routes for the au if that makes sense.

So to start off, if it isn't clear, most of my aus are made bc of me listening to music or musical songs/film music, and this leads to this sort of thing happening-

I made this au bc I watched the film and said "what if I drew my fav ships as the different songs?"........I still have the sketches for these that I want to finish one day-

It is a mostly Edgejeanist and Ectoloader focused au!!! (with a dash of some others)

(forgive me for my lack of knowledge on terminology and also for completely forgetting everyone's names /lh)

Main AU:

So basically follows the storyline for the most part!

Ectoloader are the married couple bc what kinda au would this be if I didn't make them a married couple /lh

They had the whole Childhood Friends -> Lovers things and do Circus Things together - they own the circus

Ecto did tightrope acts and I haven't figured out pl yet tbh-

Edgeshot is a Trapeze artist.

Jeanist is the guy that gets dragged into the circus by Ecto and they have that lovely Moment(tm)

Mic is the guy who gets the crowd all worked up, Aizawa does trapeze and that ribbon-y stuff- (lord help me i do not know terminology)

Cue romance and Circus Shenanigans between everyone!

Plenty of injury moments and fantastic performing stuff!

Shinya and Tsunagu get to have their 'Rewrite the Stars' Moment!

Ecto goes away to tour with Snipe! (nothing like the musical, just goin on a lil fun trip with a friend)!! Circus goes to shit!

FIRE SCENE!!!

Jeanist runs in to save Shinya, who was already out, who now runs in to save him- Tsunagu is very hurt.

Ecto loses his legs in the accident (suggested by an anon a while back and i really loved it)

Mic gets stuck, Aizawa rescues him!

Angst and Comfort ensue!!!

Not a lot of thought apart from "this is fun to imagine the characters playing as.....the characters..from the musical..."

yeahhh

And for fun, here is the "just here for the music" route:

All pro hero characters are kinda putting on a show, and these songs are being performed by certain characters.

(i have a big hc that Jeanist, Ectoplasm and Nighteye are besties... they're called 'The Distinguished Gays'...)

So the song 'The Other Side' just went perfectly imagining Ecto convincing Jeans to join him while Nighteye tended to the bar......idk its so fun to imagine in time to the music-

Jeanist and Edgeshot perform 'rewrite the stars' bc <3

'Come alive' is Aizawa and his students

'The Greatest show' is All the teachers and their students and some of the ua alumni popping up and making appearances!

And finally 'This is me' is absolutely everyone, and they get to have their cool moments and show off themselves and idk that song makes me feel things.

I often imagine the canon universe characters acting/voice acting in musicals for fun so yeah lol

Well! I hope that makes sense!!!

Thank you SO much for asking, I genuinely got so excited to see this ask bc <3333

[scribbledquillz]

As promised, a little life update on me for - well mostly me, but also anyone who'd like to know where in the hell I've been.

Around when I was last here winter of 2021, the hip pain I'd had since I was pregnant with my little one - which until then had mostly just been annoying - started to become more of a problem. It became far more prominent and persistent, as well as moving up into my pelvis and lower back. Spasms, achiness, stabbing pains, lots of fun. It made basic necessities difficult, and continuing exercises other than using the treadmill (which a friend of mine graciously gave to me for free, bless her) impossible.

Fast forward through physical therapy, x rays, mris, steroid injections and a last ditch effort with acupuncture and I'm finally in a place health wise that is, while not ideal at least generally manageable. There's something going on in my SI joint compounded with 30+ years of random factors that probably made it worse that causes just. Boatloads of inflammation. Massage, acupuncture and walking keep it in check, but sadly I don't know when or if I'll be able to get back into weight lifting the way I used to. But hey I can function and I can grocery shop without spending the rest of the day in agony on the couch, so I'll gladly take it!

In that same time in a more positive lane, I did a lot of work on myself and my mental health. I took the time to try new hobbies, dabbled in a lot of creative outlets I never thought to try, and started keeping houseplants. Most of which - save a few casualties to my learning process and one poor rubber tree plant that just can't seem to catch a break - are doing great and making my house feel so much more cozy!

I also got the kick in the ass from a friend (the same one who gave me the treadmill, girl is amazing) to start an original project that I'm really excited about. I'm writing a graphic novel style comic. 😁

It's a long, LONG way from ready to share. But my prologue script is done, and I've connected with a comic artist who I've been working with to illustrate the pages. Once those are done and I've got enough of the main script drafted up, I'll be looking into getting the prologue posted / hosted, as well as a Patreon running to help finance the development of the main story. I don't want to give anything away about the plot just yet, but I will say I want to get this right. Hence the possibility of a Patreon to help fund hiring on several sensitivity readers as well as hopefully bumping up the hours I can afford to pay my illustrator to work.

So yeah - that story is my main priority and focus right now. I want to see this done and completed, because I genuinely think people will like the story I have floating around in my head and the idea of finally being able to turn writing - something I've been passionate about for as long as I remember - into more than a hobby would be AMAZING.

But that being said, I will always have love for Revka and Zevran. Their ship is what pushed me back into writing after a years long dry spell, and I want to give them their due. Not to mention I miss the idiots. ♥️

So that's it! I'll be poking away at their fics as I have time, but want to make it clear their stories will have to stay as something I do as I have spare time and energy. I most likely won't be able to do a lot of meme style writing or prompts - at least for the time being. But I'm excited and happy to be here to gush about my favorite fictional husband and share my love for whatever random fancies pop into my life with you all, and to continue seeing your lovely digital faces on my dash.

I can't wait to share my writing with you all again, and to eventually let you be some of the first folks who can check out my comic!

[undertheopensky]

One bonus of insomnia: I finally finished Spirit of the North!

I purchased this in 2021 while trapped at my sister’s house, unable to go home for two months during Covid lockdowns, but didn’t get very far into it. I just didn’t vibe with it, since at first it’s very much a walking simulator, and with no dialogue it sits somewhere between confusing, alarming, and depressing in the initial chapters.

However, unlike another game that came out around the same time featuring foxes and a lot of walking, this had actually gameplay! Exploration and platforming form the basis of the core gameplay loop, and while it’s not unenjoyable, it can be a little frustrating. One of the main side quests is finding an object to bring to a specific location, neither of which tend to be obvious until you’re right on top of them. This led to a fair amount of hunting-for-significant-looking-places and gridsearching. It was engrossing, at least.

Now, the controls.

On the ground steering is fairly fluid, but once jumps get involved it can get a little awkward. Your avatar doesn’t always jump in the direction or with the impulsion you expect it to. If there’s a wall a little too close, you sometimes won’t jump forwards, just straight up in the air, even though if you HAD jumped forwards you’d have cleared the obstacle. Other times you wind up jumping in the /opposite direction like you rebounded off it. There’s also no midair correction system, which, yes, is realistic, if not for the fact that the game has no issues with knocking you off course (again, if you’re too close to a wall). Overall, it feels rather unresponsive - not helped by my avatar sometimes just refusing to jump at all. Like what the hell, dude?

There are several special abilities, and while they’re not very intuitive at first, they /are consistent. When you find tasks or obstacles you generally know what you need to do to solve them. The most difficult part is that due to lack of dialogue you have no idea what they’re called, which can make googling specific frustrating puzzles even more frustrating. (IN MY DEFENSE, I didn’t know the avatar power and the dash power could be used simultaneously!)

So controls are generally very functional. What about graphics?

Pretty, but poorly contrasted in some places. There were some sections where I had to play in the dark with the backscreen fully lit up just to see what I was doing (looking at you, chapter 6). I feel like there was a day night cycle going on too? Which meant things randomly got deeply shadowed and suddenly I was left squinting at my next target. Generally, though, the graphics are nice enough to look at and don’t hurt my eyes, even when glowing things come onscreen.

The music is nice, if not amazing. Not a fan of the way it seems to randomly select tracks when one finishes, though, as this sometimes results in super ominous music out of nowhere. All I’m doing is crossing a field, stop trying to give me a heart attack!

Unfortunately a lot of the ‘special effects’ noises are annoying. The fox panting at random intervals, the glooping sounds, the rush of water sometimes when there’s no water present…. The way your companion yips back at you whenever you bark is cute, though.

Plot.

Confusing.

Less confusing than the other fox game I played recently, despite having zero dialogue. The use of pictographs and environmental storytelling was fairly effective here. Some things were just inevitably lost in translation. However, I mostly followed what was happening and what had happened, and the conclusion was satisfying in a ‘oh, that makes sense!’ kind of way, even if there were a few loose plot threads still.

Worth it? Yeah. Not my favourite, by any means, but I’ll probably go through at some point to find the rest of the collectibles, now I know what I’m doing.

[medicinemane]

I don't know... now I want to be clear that I haven't directly been effected by any of this, it's never been people I know only people I knew of

But at a certain point with these attacks on Ukraine, on Syria, on Gaza... all over the damn world, you'll run into someone where they're killed and it's just like... well that's it, there's no going back from this. No matter what happens we're never getting them back because of this brutal senseless murder

For a lot of people it's probably family, for me it was just a combat medic that posted on here that I didn't even directly follow

Not to act like this is a bold new stance, but I'm so very very tired of all these horrible things. Wish our leader would actually have the balls to stand up against it no matter who it's coming from. I get sometimes situations can be complicated, but fucks sake we need to draw a line that says murdering civilians isn't something we're gonna be ok with

I mostly follow Ukraine, that's the one thing I can really manage to keep up with. I'd say of westerners, or even just generally non Ukrainians I'm probably one of the better informed (used to even follow the blow by blows on the front lines but... can't do it anymore, all I can do is say get those people the damn weapons they need to free their land)

It's fucking frustrating seeing that aid for Ukraine held up for months by one scum bag. Whole fucking system is rotten... I don't really know what to do about any of it

That's just one thing in the world, that's the one I actually pay attention to and so actually have some stuff I can bring to a conversation, something where like... like off handedly mentioning that the best way russia could get rid of nazis in Ukraine would be pulling wagner out (months and months ago I said this), only to realize that wagner wasn't universally known

So if you wonder why I never talk on Gaza, or Haiti, or Syria, or Iran, or Sudan, or... or any of the places I don't even realize I'm missing right now, other than my stance of not talking about current events that are non stop being talking about so people can get a break on their dash, it's also I just don't think I have anything fucking useful to say

At least with Ukraine I can tell you concretely what I want and why, I don't have a clue on Haiti for instance. I bring nothing productive to the conversation. I support Iranians so much, but they know far better on I do how they can possibly be free

I'm just not pleased, that's all. I think that's like... bare minimum stance on this stuff, I think if I were ok with it I'd be sick

I do what I can to avoid being paralyzed, which is another reason I only follow one horrible situation. I always say I'd rather have people be missing a lot of the details and not following as close and be supportive than be burnt out following every last thing... so... that's what I end up doing with me too (not that there's much I fucking contribute here)

Just tired of it all, tired of innocent people dying and the fact that no matter what we do we'll never get those people back. Think we owe it to them to at least stop shit as soon as possible, but...

Nothing specific brought this on, no news worse than the usual attacks on civilians by russia. I'm just kinda... I'm sick of all the fuckers in western governments that just kind of wring their hands while other governments butcher people

Not like I'm saying we do world police shit, but like with Ukraine that's one of the easiest conflicts, just dump every last bit of old weaponry on them so they can basically dispose of the trash we were gonna have to pay to decommission anyway (and generally then they choose to restock, which is the main actual cost to that aid, and while there's many issues with the military industrial complex, if you're just talking dollars most of that money stays in the US as wages and taxable income)

That one's easy, Ukraine is so easy to help and we can't even mange that and people die for it... can't even give them air defense

The other issues aren't as easy... like going back to Haiti I have no idea how you help with the gangs that have been taking control, because I don't trust western armed intervention, but... I don't know... I really really don't

But I'm just sick of it, at least lean on governments that are committing genocide even if they're a strategic ally. Have some fucking decency

I know I've said nothing here really, but hell if I don't hate all the brutality going on in the world

(And frankly if you want the blunt truth the other reason I don't talk about a lot of this stuff is I don't trust enough of you not to act batshit crazy. The amount of insane opinions I see on horrible stuff... forgive me but I don't feel like debating strangers on tumblr when their basic empathy seems to be broken... I won't be the one to convince them to have some humanity)

This isn't meant to be doomsaying by the way, my point is that this shit is awful and we all need to do what we can to fix it cause no one else is... it's just also very tiring and I really wish it weren't this way

And I'm not even the one being bombed or having my family bombed... I don't know what we do, but we've at least got to keep trying to do something to help make things a little less awful for those people

That's all, state of the world is eating at me again, but it's not like it was better in 2010 or 2000 or 1990 or...

Once again, not doomsaying, not saying it's worse now than ever before. I'm saying it's bad now and we need to do something about that, and maybe also that we're more connected than ever and it's easier to see the horror that's been here for... maybe since forever

[good-prog]

Hades: everyone and their mother told me to play this game (and they were right)

Main campaign date: 2023/11/30-12/12 Total playtime (Steam): 100.2 hours (and counting)

Been a while since I've finished a video game. I've been in more of a fiber crafting mood than a video gaming mood recently (still not done with FF6... lmao), but I spent the last month of 2023 being obsessed with Hades. (So much so that I barely logged in to FF14, and only then to raid log!) I don't think I can say much that hasn't already been said about this game, but I'll try to sum up my thoughts regardless.

Spoilers below.

This was my second roguelite; my first was Slay the Spire. (Since I've started with the "greatest hits" of the genre, I have a small worry that my future expectations will be skewed as a whole.) All facets of the game—from the combat, to the decision making for builds, to the overarching story—are enjoyable, and the game incentivizes the player to try new things in each of those areas. Each run, one of the weapons will grant bonus darkness and gemstones (meta currencies for making the player character stronger). Additionally, the "fated list of minor prophecies" incentivizes trying out every single boon at least once in exchange for meta currency rewards.

gameplay

Fairly intuitive control mapping on kb/m; could consider remapping special though (I press both Q and W with my 4th finger).

I'm bad at action video games in general (poor reaction times, tend to eat shit to boss mechanics even after understanding them), but I do enjoy the feeling of progression as I learn mob / boss movement patterns and attack rotations. I don't have to progress quickly, as long as I'm able to come up with a slightly better build, or see a new boss phase each time around.

The dash is quite generous with iframes (even without the Athena boon). As long as one doesn't attack while dashing, safety is guaranteed. It took me quite a few runs, but I finally understood this when fighting Hades with the fist weapons; without dashing through his spin attacks, uptime is quite limited. I was able to clear for the first time shortly after that (~20 hours of gameplay).

Screenshots from my first clear, when I realized that I could simply block all of Hades' attacks with the shield.

As I've been increasing heat, most of my runs have been using the rail (mostly Hestia, Eris aspects). I've had the fortune of seeing the cluster bomb + rocket bomb hammers ("clocket" build) a few times, but it doesn't show up consistently enough for me to use it as a crutch. My personal best is 25 heat; my main issue is reacting to FO2 (44% movement speed increase). I would like to eventually do 32 heat for Skelly's final statue, though!

I don't think there's anything I explicitly disliked, beyond the satyr mobs in Styx. They apply a heavy dot that needs to be cleansed by touching pools in difficult-to-reach / dangerous locations on the map. (For lower DPS builds, I had to weigh cleansing the dot vs trying to clear the room.)

meta progression/story

The player character is Zagreus, the son of Hades, who is attempting to escape the Underworld and reunite with his mother. Each attempt, he receives help from the Olympian gods in the form of boons (that modify the attack/special/cast/dash/call of his build); some friendly residents of the different biomes (Sisyphus, Eurydice, Patroclus); as well as Charon (in exchange for obols Zag picks up along the way).

I enjoyed the writers' sense of humor when it came to the characters and their interactions. I'm impressed by the amount of new (voiced!) dialogue I hear when I talk to each god, even after many runs. Shoutout to everyone's favorite tsundere (Thanatos), who warms up to Zag through the course of their interactions.

Getting to advance the story and receiving more permanent upgrades definitely made coming back to the House after a wipe more bearable (and also primed the desire to go again). Hypnos' contextual comments on cause of death were amusing, and seeing Meg and/or Thanatos was always a treat.

I enjoyed the happy ending and seeing Zag's family reunited, but also appreciated how the characters continued to work through their interpersonal issues (e.g., Dusa getting fired and then returning to the House thanks to Zagreus' intervention).

misc

Fishing in this game is simple, but difficult (for someone with poor reaction times). Once a fish bites, there's a particular interval in which the rarest fish are available; wait too long, and there's only a chance for the lower two tiers of fish. That being said, I still ended up with a Pavlovian response to the sound effect indicating an available fishing spot that plays when the room gets cleared. To my friend's chagrin, I would often stop to fish, even when racing against the clock (in game timer is paused while fishing).

Bonus: while writing this post, I realized that AGDQ was streaming Hades! Runners arcalena and trash_lapras (who are married!) did a 3 weapons race live, and even did a 2 player / 1 controller run after.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded!  Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum. 

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead. 

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…” 

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading​, @thatsdarwinism​, @satellitespidey​

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

--

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

-

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

-

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

-

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

--

masterpost

[redorich]

May I request the aftermath of Cleo learning about the magic restrictions please and thank you.

The unfortunate thing about the Dream SMP is that there is no such thing as neutral ground. Everyone's in a faction, and everyone's got beef with everyone else. The only "neutral ground" is the unsettled wilds. When Philza reports this back to Cleo, who reports it back to Xisuma, Cleo wears a put-upon look and says that her and Joe's castle will do just fine, thank you, so stop worrying about it.

The day of the meeting comes, and though Philza is hesitant to return to the castle that scared Techno half to death and activated Ranboo's main character energy, he didn't spend all that time with Cleo handing out the invitations for nothing. Cleo herself won't be present, but her partner in crime Joe will be.

Inside the castle, past the courtyard teeming with armor stand faux-life, there is a meeting room with a table. There are exits on each of the four walls, so no one feels trapped, and the table is circular so that no one feels less important than anyone else. It's all a very Socratic setup.

At the far end of the room, where the head of the table would be were it rectangular, Xisuma sits calm as can be despite the powder keg of important people with grudges he's invited into his presence. On his right is Joe, whose eyes are lit up bright white, though he's still wearing his glasses. To Xisuma's left is Grian, and to Grian's left is Doc. Continuing around the table, next sits Eret representing the Pride Palace and, to a lesser extent, the Dream SMP as a whole. After them, the next person is Philza representing the Syndicate, then Bad representing the Eggpire.

Given the antagonistic nature of the Eggpire, Bad's neighbors have been chosen very carefully; on his other side sits Ghostbur representing L'Manberg. (Philza had awkwardly told Cleo that inviting a L'Manberg representative wasn't necessary, since the place was gone, but she insisted that it was "the principle of the matter". Ghostbur seems happy enough to be invited, anyway.)

On Ghostbur's left, Sam attends on Dream's behalf. Obviously, no one is going to invite Dream, and as Dream's would-be warden, Sam was nominated to attend in his stead. Next to Sam there's an empty chair for George; Philza and Puffy both warned the Hermits that George was allergic to "lore", whatever that meant, but his place at the table was set nevertheless.

The last person to fill in the table is Tubbo, representing Snowchester. He quietly expresses to Sam that he's wary about how few Hermits there are in proportion to the number of Dream SMP citizens. Sam shrugs, and murmurs back to Tubbo that there's probably more Hermits hiding somewhere nearby. After all, isn't that what the Hermits do?

Xisuma claps his hands together once in a polite bid for everyone's attention. They settle down slowly, and once they do, he stands.

"Right, everyone-- thank you all for coming. Let's get right into it, shall we?" He smiles, though it's hard to see beneath the helmet. "With some help from Puffy and Philza, my friends and I were able to figure out why we were trapped in your server."

Sam crosses his arms. He doesn't give much of a shit about the Hermits, he tells himself, unless they have something to do with Dream-- Sam's greatest failure. (It's a lie. He looks at Doc, the only other creeper-person he's ever met-- the first creeper-person, who fought a god and won the right to live for all mob hybrids who came after him. Doc, whose eyes are fixed solely on Xisuma.)

Clearing his throat to cover up the moment of weakness, Sam speaks up. "That's great and all, but why do we care? No one was living in L'Manberg anyway; it was practically free real estate."

The callous words net Sam a glare from Tubbo and a hurt look from Ghostbur. Before either can protest, Xisuma cuts in smoothly.

"It's an issue with your server," he says, "one that Dream should have fixed. It's the reason for this meeting, actually; if there was a responsible admin in the server, I would have just told them. First, a history lesson-- Doc, if you please?"

Doc nods somberly, savoring the opportunity to ham it up a bit. "For those of you who don't know, there are three Eras. The first is the beginning of time, when Mojang created the world as we know it. Players had infinite respawns, the world was less advanced, and redstone had just been created."

"Don't you think you're going a little too far back in history?" Bad asks skeptically.

"He's getting there," Eret defends.

Doc picks up where he left off. "In the Mojang pantheon, there was a god named Notch who wanted to expand the world's horizons, to give them new biomes and mechanics and blocks they'd never seen before... but you can't make something out of nothing. He needed magic to make his big updates a reality, and he stole it from the players behind the other gods' backs."

Ghostbur gasps, horrified. "He stole magic?"

"And so the gods killed him and gave the magic back, end of story," Sam snaps, then instantly regrets it. He's too on edge.

Thankfully, Doc either doesn't mind it or doesn't notice. "Not quite," he says. "When Notch took the magic from players, they lost the ability to respawn at all, marking the beginning of Era Two-- the Hardcore Era. When the gods found out, they were angry at Notch, so they exiled him to the Void. They tried to give players back their magic, but Notch had already taken too much, and servers and updates kept needing more and more... That's how Era Three started. It's the one you live in now, with the three life system."

"So... why does this matter?" Tubbo asks. "I mean, what does this have to do with why you're stuck in our server?"

"There's a parasite on your server, eating up all the magic," Xisuma says carefully. "Your server needed extra magic to keep up, so when we went through the infinity portal it grabbed us. As a group comprised mostly of Era One players, we have the magic that the server needs to compensate for the parasite."

Most of the Dream SMP citizens look either nauseous or extremely worried at the thought of a parasite. With a furrowed brow and a chewed lip, Eret breaks the silence.

"Do you know who it is?"

They all look around the table with wary gimlet eyes, attempting to suss out the imposter among them.

"A parasite..." Sam snorts derisively. "Sounds like that damn egg."

"Language," Bad snaps, but doesn't resort to violence.

"No no, he's got a point," Grian speaks for the first time. He'd been told to stay silent, but he's not a man who will ever pass up an opportunity to meme.

Bad's face falls, and he takes on a placating tone in an attempt to persuade the Hermits to his side. "Hey, don't be like that, the Egg's never done anything wrong!"

Sam's eyebrows raise practically to the ceiling. He looks at Bad in disbelief. "Never done anything wrong?" he says. "Remember when you--"

"That was me, not the Egg," Bad cuts in with a nervous laugh.

"You tried to kill Puffy over it, then killed Foolish instead," Philza says solely because he wants the Hermits to be mad about the Egg.

"Hm," Joe hums to himself. Up until this point the man everyone knows as Herobrine has been quiet, fading into the background, but now that he's made his presence known they can't help but be wary.

He drums his fingers on the table. "Yeah, I think we need some backup. False, Iskall?"

"On it," Doc grumbles, and reaches under the table to flip a couple trapdoors.

Out of nowhere, as though they'd ender pearled in, a blonde woman and a cyborg man appear behind the Hermits' end of the table. Bad stands up suddenly, knocking his chair backward, but Doc presses another button and all four entrances to the room are shut by pistons.

The woman, False, vaults herself over the table with nothing but upper body strength and tackles Bad to the floor. While the demon is still stunned, Iskall dashes around the circumference of the table to flank him. Doc once again presses a button and the floor opens up to reveal a secret staircase, which False and Iskall drag Bad down kicking and screaming. Once they disappear into the depths of the basement, the floor closes back up and the doors reopen like nothing ever happened.

"Well," Xisuma says with a small smile, lacing his fingers together as he addresses the group.

They stare back at him in horror.

He clears his throat awkwardly. "So, with the removal of the Egg, your server will stabilize and we Hermits will be able to leave you in peace..."

"I'm sensing a but," Eret says tentatively. They take off their sunglasses with a minute sigh, reminding themself that it's because of these Hermits that their curse was removed, that they can take off their sunglasses and have gray eyes again.

Taking a deep breath, Xisuma speaks. "We think we have a way to fix the three-life system."

[drabsyo]

I was wondering...I was always confused about Narcissa’s hair. It’s been a while since I read the books. Did she color it blonde to show her now belonging to House Malfoys. Or was it naturally blonde? Movies confused me a bit I guess.

Yes, this had me confused too! I've agonized and toiled over it, more than I probably should, about how I should draw her hair because people have generally different views, which is totally understandable! 💕

And I've always wanted to discuss it, so now that I've been given a reason to... Well.

If you take a look at some of my Narcissa fanart, you'll notice the different ways I'd color her hair. I was so confused. Is she a light blonde? Dark blonde? A mix of raven hair and blonde hair? If she has blonde hair then why does her family have (mostly) dark hair? And WHY does she have blue eyes?! This woman is absolutely confusing! (Which is kind of, you know, fitting because Narcissa always loves to be a mystery to literally anyone lol)

So I did my homework, asked around, and scoured every bit of information, canon or otherwise, that I could find about her. It led me to this:

In canon, this is what the Black sisters look like. You can find the page here. Narcissa is a child here, and already has blonde hair. So we can go ahead and safely assume that she was born with natural blonde hair. But in the films, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. I don't actually know why they gave her that hair color, maybe so that the audiences wouldn't question her blood relations with the Blacks--I don't know. I really don't. But now we have a book version Narcissa, one who has full blonde hair. And a movie version Narcissa, one who has raven and blonde hair. At least, that's how the different hair colors started: a movie version, and a book version.

So... here's where it gets confusing.

To my knowledge, it isn't actually explained why her hair color is the way it is in both the movies and the books. Having blonde hair does raise many questions, how is she the "only" blonde in a family of dark hair and dark eyes? To top it all off, it gets even more confusing, because fanon writes and draws her either as a full blonde or a mix of raven and blonde hair. We just have this large pile to sift through of her having either hair color. No one actually explains anything. She's just... infuriatingly there. She's either blonde or raven haired and blonde. BUT fanfiction writers, as I've observed, give their own reasons why Narcissa's hair color is the way it is in their respective stories. And it's actually pretty creative and interesting! It adds even greater depth to her character, and it fits the narrative of the story even better. Remember, the character we're dealing with is Narcissa Black. One of her main traits is "she won't do anything unless there is a clear purpose behind it." This character is deliberate, meticulous, and she makes sure to plan ahead at all times. And so, some fanfiction writers decide to play on that.

You can skip this part if you want to avoid spoilers but I've compiled a small list of instances in (Cissamione) fanfiction where Narcissa's hair is mentioned.

🔹 In Extinction by rubikanon in Chapter 10: Build and Break, Hermione asks Narcissa about it. Here, Narcissa has black and blonde hair. She explains that she only decided to dye it blonde to "fit in with the Malfoys." We can gather two things from that alone, which resonates with her character perfectly: 1.) Narcissa is loyal and 2.) Narcissa purposefully wants to show the rest of the world how loyal she is by committing to having blonde hair. The woman has some serious commitment, and it shows. But now, the way that it's slowly growing back into her natural black hair color, hints that perhaps Narcissa no longer wishes to fit in with the Malfoys. However, if we take an even closer look, we can safely assume that Narcissa isn't the kind of person to just leave her hair color "unattended" like that. Remember, she's meticulous. And this is a big deal for her, the fact that she's just kind of letting it grow back instead of either fully dyeing it back to black, or dyeing it back to blonde. It suggests that perhaps she's a little unsure this time, perhaps it is her uncertainty that is the reason why it's now a mix of both. Another grey area? Or maybe it's actually something more deliberate? Maybe now, she likes that it's a mix of both. That other half now being solely for Draco, and not to fit in (completely) with the Malfoys any longer. Who knows why Narcissa does things the way she does? We can speculate to the ends of the earth, or be as smart as Hermione Granger (or with the case of Extinction, see Hermione's thoughts), but something tells me we'd still be a good step behind.

"Which one is your natural hair color?" I wondered aloud.

(Narcissa) She glanced up at the unexpected question. I was relieved she hadn't sensed my attention yet. It's not like I meant anything by it, I told myself. She was so beautiful, one couldn't help but notice. And feel physically drawn to her. And want to see her two-toned hair fanned across her back, slipping over the bare skin, silky beneath my fingers...

"Why do you ask?" Her query brought me back to reality, and I hurriedly corrected my imagination to include a pretty dress covering the rest of her.

"I don't know." I chewed the inside of my cheek, suppressing my other thoughts. "I'm just curious."

Her gaze returned to the fire. "You've seen enough of my relatives to guess which color is genetic. The blond is something I added to fit in with the Malfoys, after Draco was born." She was quiet for a moment. "He looks so much like his father. I suppose I wanted to share some resemblance."

🔹 In Killing Me Softly by Looktotheedges in Chapter 4: Nagging, Hermione suggests that perhaps Narcissa is part Veela because of her blonde hair and very attractive features, like Fleur. Which is this whole other theory/plot that's very interesting, but won't be discussed in this post. Narcissa tells Hermione that Sirius has always been blonde, and that it isn't out of the question for her to be blonde either. Sirius Black. A blonde. I know! Maybe it's there because it's funny that Sirius is actually blonde like Narcissa. Prissy, haughty, lady-like Narcissa. Arguably the 'girliest' cousin that he has. No, no, no. He doesn't want to be anything like Narcissa. Anyway, if that's the reason, I think that's hilarious and cute.

Narcissa turns away. 'I am aware my appearance is frightfully drab. Work has been…'

Hermione holds back a disbelieving scoff. 'Narcissa. You always look beautiful. And you’re talking to the witch with grass in her hair who practically lives in her office all week.'

Narcissa just leans further over the crib. 'A blonde little boy. It has been so long since… I can almost imagine…'

Hermione stands next to her. Looks down at the peacefully sleeping Louis. He does look remarkably like Draco. 'Are you sure there’s no Veela blood in you? You weren’t secretly switched at birth?'

'Like a changeling?'

'It would explain your blonde hair.'

'Sirius was also blonde, it is not completely out of the question for us Blacks.'

What?!

(...) 'I know. But it is the truth. He was blond until he was about seven… then it began to darken. Mousy. Dull. He wanted to look cool and brooding instead, so he got his hands on some kind of charm right before he set off for Hogwarts. A new, edgy Sirius. It was around then he forbade us from calling him Siri. Said it sounded too girly.'

🔹 In Fixed in Time by TheWorldsaBeastofBurden in Chapter 9: Sisters and Saviors, it's also tackled a little humorously. Andromeda let's a little comment slip while they're in the middle of trying to heal Hermione. Something funny, something that suggests Andromeda and Bella, when they were children, have always wondered why Narcissa is blonde unlike them.

The first words spoken occurred after they’d risen and attempted their casting. Andromeda’s preparedness to take on their task had been clear in her mind so Narcissa rose with her sister, wrapped an arm around her waist and held her near as the woman raised her wand to draw up the rest of the injury she’d dropped, half a slash across Hermione’s hip bone…

That remained half, as Andromeda growled out, “...it isn’t working.” she looked to Narcissa, “Why aren’t you powering me?”

What nonsense? “I am!” she insisted. She was! Or “I- I am trying to!” Her magic was active and alive, pulsing to rise from her skin and transfer into Andromeda’s but it- it wasn’t working! “Could...could it be that you were disowned?”

“Disowning doesn’t take away the fact that we share blood, our magic is directly related. Ugh, Bella always said you were adopted!”

“Oh ha- oh.”

“...oh?” Andromeda returned.

“...it’s not an issue of power. It is what I intend to aid in casting,” Narcissa slowly worked out. Oh, it was most blessed Mister Goyle could be brought to assist the present Hermione. If her present self had been brought to aid Andromeda? “...I cannot harm Hermione.”

Andromeda sighed with some frustration. “I understand you are so tenderly in love-”

“It isn’t- I’m avowed! I- when we arrived from the future we had to escape Malfoy Manor, I couldn’t bring Hermione through the wards without...I couldn’t add her directly, that would be visible. I had to...attach her permission to mine.”

🔹 In Glass Silence by Zarrene Moss (Menzosarres), which probably gives one of the most interesting backstories for Narcissa's hair, for why it's blonde. I can't put a clip of the scene here without hogging up a huge chunk of space on your dash, so I'll try to explain it as best I can instead.

Understand that these come with serious 🛑spoilers🛑 so please do read it at your own risk.

In Glass Silence, Narcissa's hair and eye color was black at birth. But after an accident with raw magic, something Bellatrix wasn't able to control when they were children, Narcissa almost dies. Bellatrix, using even more raw magic, tries desperately to pull Narcissa's "life force" back, but at the cost of losing the eumelanin that made Narcissa's eyes and hair black. Narcissa survived, but now has very little eumelanin left, which is why she's so pale, blonde, and has blue eyes. Every time Narcissa looks at a mirror, her reflection is a reminder of the day she almost died. Bella, on the other hand, is reminded of that day every single time she looks at Narcissa.

So! These are only a few fanfictions I could think of at the top of my head that tackles the issue of Narcissa's hair. In the books, to my knowledge, she is described as having blonde hair and very pale skin.

But let's take another deep dive, if you're up for it.

These are mostly theories, which are largely unconfirmed, but I think they're interesting to think about.

There's this description in the wiki:

"Narcissa Malfoy is described as tall, slim, "nice looking", and very pale, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a clear, cold voice. Her hair colouring thus differs from most of the House of Black, who generally have dark hair, though Narcissa does possess the arrogant good looks characteristic of her family."

There's also this pinterest photo of the Black sisters being compared to each other side by side, descriptively and physically. I'm so sorry, I don't know who drew it, but here's a link to the post on pinterest.

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

Which is interesting because this hints that she's... different. It's a bit literal in this sense--she comes from a pureblood family, arguably the most influential and notorious one, the Blacks, who mostly have dark hair and eyes, and yet her physical appearance directly contrast that. There's also the matter of her namesake. She's the only Black to be named after a flower instead of a galaxy or a star. We aren't really given any explanation why she's the only one who's different. Even Sirius, who fought and died for the side of the Light, is named after the brightest star in the sky. Even Andromeda. It's been said that this is actually meant to be a parallel of some sort to Lily Evans. Narcissa and Lily are both named after flowers, even Petunia (Lily's sister). And I know there's this thing where it's a tie up to how Harry was ultimately saved by a mother's love: Harry lived at the beginning because of his mother's love, and Harry lives once again at the end of the books because Narcissa, a mother who wanted to save her own son, saved him.

If you read that scene in the books where Harry is saved by Narcissa, the whole scene is actually... pretty soft? There's that sort of disarming softness about Narcissa in that moment, where Harry expected to be callously dragged and prodded for a heartbeat. Instead, he gets a surprisingly gentle touch, a curtain of long blonde hair shielding him from the darkness, and the kind of tenderness he wouldn't expect from his enemies, "Is Draco alive?"

It's almost like Narcissa's appearance is something of a "tell". With Andromeda, she's described to have kind eyes, open, unguarded. She inherited her family's dark eyes and dark hair, and she even looks like Bellatrix's twin. I suppose we could say, Andromeda wants to fight that in any way she can by being openly kind. Narcissa is quite literally the opposite--guarded eyes, stoic expressions, cool and calculated emotions. We're veering into this fine line between fanon and canon in terms of their characterization (but only due to lack of canon materials) but personally, I think Narcissa having blonde hair and blue eyes is somewhat more fitting for her character. Again, this line:

"Narcissa threw back her hood. She was so pale she seemed to shine in the darkness... long blonde hair streaming down her back."

It's like that one glaringly obvious hint that everyone overlooks simply because... because it's the most obvious one. "Me! I'm different! I'm the last person you'd expect, but it really is me!"

Anyway. I've rambled on long enough. Hope this clears up some of that confusion, anon. Hoping it didn't ADD even more confusion... 😂 At the end of the day, this is just me speculating, gushing, and being One Big Fool™. So.

But either way, blonde hair, dark hair, mix of both, I adore her. Pretty much.

[anadorablekiwi]

Hiya here’s my intro post

Hi! I’m Kiwi! (Like the birb :D) And no, I unfortunately do not live in and am not from Aotearoa/New Zealand. Just love the place and the birds.

My mama’s (dragonsglare) Snickerdoodle recipe so i can indirectly make you cookies :D

My guacamole recipe 💚

A Questionaire website for when you feel like crap, which helps you with self care/executive disfunction/etc. Take care of yourself please. Found through this post

My LU love/hearts edits post here (will be updated as I eventually get around to more edits by reblogs)

I love all Zelink <3

Most my fandom stuff will be Honkai Star Rail stuff and Genshin Impact stuff, and the occasional legend of Zelda/linked universe. But I also reblog PJO/HOO when it shows up on my dash occasionally. My hyperfixations also change from time to time so dont be surprised by Dont Starve Together, Phasmophobia, Animal Crossing stuff, etc

There is absolutely NO room for hate of any kind on my blog, and this is a safe place for everyome. No Exceptions. (And to be 110% clear, that includes all who are lgbtq+/queer)

Social anxiety with a sprinkle of awkward, so I apologize in advance. 💜 I also crave interaction so please don’t be afraid to come chat or something 💙

Genshin UID: 640628605 American server, AR 60 (Kiwi)

747301959 Europe server, AR 35 (Rowi)

Honkai Star Rail UID: 601266085 American Server, TL 70 (Kiwi)

Wuthering Waves UID: 500675827 American Server, UL 46 (Kiwi)

I have siblings! Older brother is Pseudo, younger sisters in order are Doe (the married one) and Aria (@/arianight992) (as in these are their online names (Pseudo and Aria) or a nickname I gave them for tumblr purposes (Doe, after a female goat))

Choir/music/geology/birds from Aotearoa (NZ) nerd, (fake) adult, Christian. Self diagnosed ADHD and i have autistic tendencies

I don’t do reblog bait. And on a much more lighthearted note I don’t usually do those individualized positive reblog thingys for the sole reason of I don’t wanna accidentally leave anyone out 🥺😅😂

I have a couple side blogs! Writing side blog: @the-writings-of-a-kiwi-bird || Art side blog: @kiwis-doodles || Oc info side blog: @kiwis-ocs-sideblog || OCs meet au sideblog: @a-chain-of-chaos || none are very active, just whenever I get around to doing a thing (i live in shame /lh)

I have a loz/lu sideblog but dont know if ill use it or not

My (very incomplete) list of tags under the cut:

#kiwi answers- my asks tag

#kiwi vents/#screams into the void/screams into the abyss- my venting posts, no obligation to respond I just gotta get it out there sometimes

#kiwi rambles- random ramblings from me (usually) not related to LU

#kiwis lu nonsense- ramblings that are related to LU

#kiwi’s linksona/kiwis linksona Diana/kiwis linksona eli (<-old | new->) #kiwis ocs- stuff about my (linksonas) OCs! Eli is the first and the main one. If you have any questions about any please ask, i love talking about all of them!

#kiwi draws- my drawings and doodles

#the kiwi bird writes/writings of a kiwi bird- my Fics and writing

#kiwi crafts- my crochet/whatever crafty thing I learn next posts! (Probably just crochet. Maybe some sewing eventually)

#kiwi gets love- so i can easily find and reread the love I’ve received when I’m feeling down

#much noms for little bird/noms for the kiwi bird- food related posts

#caps/caps lock- I know some people don’t like caps lock so when I use it/reblog a post with a lot of it i’m trying to tag it more

#kiwi yells self care (nicely)- my self care reblogs/posts (mostly my reblogs of self care bot) (i rarely remember to tag)

#kiwi q- my queue/scheduled post tag

#kiwis wonderful pets <3- the tag for when I post pictures of my cat(s) or dog(s)

When I play games and post about it I’ll tag it #kiwi plays [insert game here]

#kiwi talks genshin- self explanatory

#the songs of a kiwi bird- the rare occasion I post a video of my singing <3

#kiwi talks about writing- i talk about writing, mostly comments on any wips i may be working on

#kiwi (doesnt) take care of herself- food is hard water is hard what is self care (never remember to tag)

#kiwis anime saga- Ive started watching some lighthearted animes and i like yelling about them

#kiwi watches *insert anime here*- my ramblings about specific animes as i watch them

#kiwis epona- posts about my first car, whom i have fondly named Epona!

#kiwi save- posts I absolutely want to be able to find again

#kiwis produce adventures- i work at a grocery store in produce so any posts relating to produce are tagged this