#nobody likes commas i guess

[rubiredrhythms]

Okay, first post, I gotta make it a good one

*ahem*

gingledybumphits

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[andy-wm]

his “coming out” should not be in any way shape or form be connected to jungkook. idk why you shippers can’t leave them tf alone when they’re not dating ffs.

[Select.font=sarcasm]

Oooh I am so glad you came here to tell me this, Anon! You are clearly well informed on both Jimin’s life, and "coming out".

I didn't even know that "coming out" needs to be in inverted commas. Thank you for helping me understand.

I also didn't know what his "coming out" should or should not be! I didn't know there were rules for "coming out"! I'm so grateful to have this information now.

I hope you've also told Jimin how he should "come out"?

I hope he listens to you since obviously, you have his happiness at heart.

Because "coming out" with no significant other to support him - and facing the inevitable repercussions alone - that would DEFINITELY make things better for him, right?

Also we all know how much Jimin LOVES being alone, so naturally we should wish that for him.

Objectively, he would be happier if he was single I guess? Because having a secure and healthy long term relationship with someone who loves and supports you is known to be pretty shit. Makes sense... that's why nobody looks for love. They certainly don't write songs about love.

Ever.

People aspire to being isolated, like Jimin showed us this with his song Serendipity.

When he sang "just let me love you" he probably meant he wanted to be single and live alone forever in his bubble. That makes sense.

And of course they aren't dating!

You're right, there's absolutely nothing special between Jimin and Jungkook. They are 100% platonic and good pals.

It would be ridiculous to look at them and see love and intimacy.

I dont know what love looks like, but this is not it...

Definitely not this either.

Just friends here.

So friendly!

Brothers even!

Keeping to the bro code here too, 100%

Absolutely no crossing of boundaries here....

I always caress my friend's clothes when I sing their own love song back to them. Especially when my face is less than a foot from their face. It's very platonic.

Anyway, there's no reason to think they might be dating.

Why would people even think they COULD be?

It's unimaginable.

Society has never ignored or dismissed loving romantic relationships between same-sex couples, and that's certainly not what you're doing. Not at all. You just know they aren't dating because ... reasons.

I'm sure you don't object to Jimin being gay because that would be homophobic (you even know how he should "come out"). If that was the case you might as well just get a tattoo of an L on your forehead and throw away all your Jimin merch because our boy is gayer than a rainbow cake. Gayer even than the rainbow cake his appa has *always in stock* in his coffee shop in Busan.

And if you generously tolerate his gayness, i imagine you will allow that one day he could date (definitely not now, because he probably has no interest in sex. He's too busy working and anyway he has ARMY to love him) yeah, but not now please.

But one day he could have a nice boyfriend who sits beside him on the sofa and smiles benignly and holds his hand like a good boy.

Definitely NOT one that sings about fucking night after night seven days a week, or watching in 3D, or DEAR GOD... the imagery... champagne confetti.

Not someone who sings Sam Smith songs on his Live, or who goes around whacking off fire hydrants in his music videos or miming blow jobs on national tv.

Not someone that demands you see him as an adult who enjoys adult things and wont accept your judgement of him. Not one who puts boundaries in place.

Not someone who (the audacity!) lies in bed naked and begs Jimin to come over.

And that brings us to the villain of our story:

JEON JUNGKOOK

I guess, since you will allow a relationship in theory, you just object to the idea of a relationship specifically with Jungkook.

And I can see why. Jungkook very obviously has no interest in Jimin’s happiness. Jungkook doesn't support him at all.

He doesn't hold jimin when he cries, he doesn't spam us with Jimin content when Jimin has a comeback, he doesn't cook Jimin’s favourite food for him, or fold his underpants while he does his own laundry.

He doesn't take him on trips to Japan, or send thirst-trap messages for his birthday, or play his songs, or sing on his albums.

He doesn't carry him, bridal style, any time Jimin jumps into his arms, and I can guarantee you that he doesn't let Jimin fuck him just the way Jimin likes it, as often as he wants it, wherever and whenever he gets the chance. And vice versa.

They didn't enlist in the military as companions, after all.

So reallly, what would Jungkook even know about Jimin's happiness?

What could he POSSIBLY know about Jimin that you don't know. Nothing, right?

What could POSSIBLY happen behind closed doors and away from the camera, that you don't see with your third eye and your vivid imagination? Again, nothing. You know ALL, right?

[Deselect.font=sarcasm]

I think we've covered everything?

Theres only one thing left to say i guess.

Whoever you are, you'd do well to consider whose happiness you're supporting.

If you don't support what makes Jimin happy, you don't support Jimin. Period.

[darling--angst]

i’d like to request space song with dazai (specifically pm!dazai) hurt/comfort scenario,, reader comforting dazai during a breakdown or smth :(

Space Song

Pairing: Pm! Dazai x Fem! Reader(platonic)/Mori x 27! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: Long winded commas, Stormbringer spoilers/mentions, Dark Era mentions, Oda's death, mentions of war, mentions of Yosano's backstory, Mori being a bitch, slight yandere Mori mentions, kinda went off topic..

Synopsis: Dazai finally found someone who saw him for who he was and when his dearest friend died, he finds himself finding comfort in her embrace like a child being comforted by his mother.

A/n: Hey.. Please state if you want it to be romantic/platonic.. since you didn't say which one you want, I'll do the latter. Reader is implied to be 27 while Mori is 33. Reader is like a mother to Dazai. I kinda wrote this without thinking so I am so sorry.

Event // Pm. Masterlist // M.Masterlist

Dazai Osamu is the feared Demon Prodigy, the youngest underboss in the history of Port Mafia, the boss' right hand man, a genius; but deep down he was a child. A child misguided to do the wrong deeds, a lonely child used as a tool by others, a child who got affiliated with a mafioso at the age of fourteen, after an attempt in suicide. He was suicidal, a child at his age should be thinking of academics instead of how to end a war with another organization with the least casualties for his own gain. He could not see the purpose in living. Nobody saw him for who he was, it was never Osamu Dazai. Everything changed when he was fifteen, he met someone who gave him a reason to live for, someone who didn't judge him.

"sir, the boss has called you to his office" A black car stopped just beside of where he stood in the street.

"A mailman huh. I guess it really is important for Mori-san" he sighed, entering the back door of the car. It has almost been a year after Mori made him his 'witness' and succeeded as the Port Mafia boss.

The drive was silent, nobody said a word. The mailman was focused on driving and Dazai was looking out the window, observing people and their daily activities.

"We're here" The mailman said before the car stopped.

"mhm" He muttered opening and closing the door shut, and he drove away.

He was very familiar with the building. The five building-like-towers in the heart of Yokohama, the middle one being the tallest of all; where the Port Mafia boss, Mori Ogai lies. He reaches the highest floor and was eventually greeted by the guards, as he arrived he saw the boss and an unfamiliar woman sitting on the boss' desk, reading a document.

"Boss" He cleared his voice making his presence clear as the both of them talked.

"ah.. Dazai-kun" Mori shifted his attention from the woman to him.

"Sit down please" He offered while Dazai walked over to the small chair in the middle of the room. Mori made his his way towards another chair and sat down across him. She took documents on top of the desk after grabbing a brown, vintage briefcase. Making her way towards the door, Mori began explaining to Dazai. The only sound that feel the room was her heels clacking to the tiled floor until Mori finally spoke up.

"As you know Dazai-kun, the previous boss has returned.. based on the information you acquired from investigating Subarachi(?) city, it may have a lead on this 'Arahibaki' and by coincidence it seems that the Sheep King is looking for the so called God of Destruction" He explained.

"and?" He replied, clearly uninterested.

"He's suggesting that you work with Nakahara Chūya, if possible make him join the Mafia" She walked passed them, handing Dazai the documents she read earlier.

"Mhm, and you are?" Dazai asked before reading the documents. She continued to walk towards the door before Mori stopped her by ordering the guards from behind the door.

"Stay. (name)-sama" He smiled while she stopped in her tracks after hearing a pair of guards ruffle through the door.

"Haii.. what do you want now?" She let out a long, exasperated sigh. Ignoring her question, he explained to Dazai who she was.

"Dazai-kun, this is (name)-sama. She was strategist from the Great War" Sighing, she flopped down on a spare chair after he continued to explain about her to the young boy.

"So she knows about you killing the previous boss then?" He asked before glancing at her then to him.

"Yes. Now let's discuss this whole thing and why am I part of this?" She sat up, sending a glare at Mori.

"It was just as I explained earlier. The previous boss returned, Dazai-kun saw him personally so now that we have the Sheep King in our capture, we'll use that to our advantage by making him join the mafia." He gave both of them a closed-eye smile, Dazai put down the document and she gave him an annoyed look.

"That won't work" Both of them sighed in unison.

"Hm?"

"Chūya is too loyal to the Sheep. It's already given after all if he didn't, he would've left them to die long ago. After realizing his own potential, he would join an organization with a high pay; if he didn't have deep ties with them..—" She explained, sitting back down while Dazai listened to her.

"The only reason for him to join us for the Sheep's safety" He followed after hearing her explain.

"—It's not guaranteed he'll be loyal. If he joins the organization for their safety alone, there's a high chance he will destroy the mafia from the inside and save his little herd"

"Wait are you suggesting-?" Dazai's eyes widened realizing what she means.

"Yes.. We have to make them suspicious of him. If they notice they have been too dependent on him, they'll do any means to overthrow him and that's where we go in." She moved the white bishop on the chess board creating an opening for the rook, and continuing the abandoned game.

"After their betrayal, the Mafia comes in and will pretend to wipe out the Sheep. Chūya, after being betrayed will stay to protect them; so he will do a bargain to save them" Dazai moved the black knight, eating the bishop and now he was in advantage in terms of pieces.

"He'll then join the mafia in terms of the bargain" She then proceeded to move her rook from across the board, blocking the king's only path to escape, almost delivering a checkmate until Dazai's queen ate it to make the game a bit longer, but not to escape the inevitable fate.

"however-" Mori sighed but was cut off by her.

"since the main priority is to make sure the previous boss doesn't return so his supporters won't start a revolution.. you have to fix that first or else you'll get tortured, then executed" She glances at Mori before moving her rook to eat Dazai's queen, delivering a back-rank checkmate. Mori was in awe after watching his protegee and ex-lover play chess in sync, as if they were reading each other's minds.

"But won't you get executed too, (name)-san? I mean you knew of how the boss'really died, yet you didn't say anything.. making you, another accomplice" Dazai leaned into his chair, analyzing how he lost.

"I'm not part of the Mafia—" She nonchalantly responded.

"Yet." Mori's voice was full of demands.

"..tch. As I said, no." She stood up from her chair, giving Dazai a small smile before turning back to the door.

"Why?" This time he was more pushy for some reason.

"It's none of your business" She hissed before opening the door and leaving.

"Well isn't she beautiful.." He muttered under his breath while Dazai sat there with a fed up look on his face.

That was their first encounter. The second one was after both of them planned a strategy to defeat Verlaine. Even if Dazai didn't have any encounters with her that didn't involve work, he grew close to her. During their plannings, he was childish but she didn't mind. He felt comfortable with her, as if he could actually show his true self. She didn't try to exploit his intelligence, as she has one of her own, she tried to understand his view of the world, she sees through his emotions but she never used it to take advantage of him.

When she joined the mafia, her position was a strategist, even if she didn't engage in missions, she was valued by the Mafia because she was the one to pull the strings and by she was liked Mori personally. He had an interest in her that Dazai seemed to distinguish as love, one that he thought Mori was not capable off. All those who tried to assassinate her failed, because of Mori's interference and his predictions. Dazai didn't want her to die, not because of how important she was in the organization but because of his own personal reasons. He then became an executive at eighteen and met quite a few people, Sakunosuke Oda and Sakaguchi Ango, whom he calls his friends. Dazai finds himself looking for her again and again, wanting to see her, because of him, Oda, Ango and her became acquainted..

Oda and (name) was on a small talking about the orphans until Ango interrupted.

"I feel like I'm quite the third wheel here you know?"

"My, my.. I never knew you were sad that you were left out Ango-kun" She teased.

"Tch. I never knew you liked kids (name)-san" He tried to switch the topic.

"I feel neutral about them—I don't dislike them nor do I like them... I once met a child in the war, she was there as a nurse since her ability allowed her to heal soldiers... such a precious child—if I remember correctly, her name was Yosano" She faintly smiled at the memory.

"You took part in the war.?" Oda fiddled with his fingers.

"Mhm.. as a strategist..." She responded. Both of them stopped in their tracks before she turned around to face them.

"If she was in the healing section and you were a strategist, how did you meet her?" Ango asked, she halted and her eyes widened a bit before laying her head low.

"My ex-lover was a doctor, he was in charge of the nurses in the war including her. I ended our relationship because of how he treated that little girl and some other reasons... in the end, she was left traumatized.. I don't know what happened to her after it was over" She quietly muttered, remembering the bitter memories of the war.

"I see.. I'm sorry for asking-" He tried to apologize but was cut off but a faint voice screaming her name.

"Y/n-san!"

" hmm.? Dazai-" before she could say anything else, his body crashed with hers as he hugged her.

"I'm quite hurt that you didn't invite me you know!" He pouted before looking at both of them.

"Anyway! Why did you three look so glum-" He tried asking but he was cut off by his phone ringing.

"Oh. It's him. Oii slug what do you want?"

"What do you mean what do I want!? You suicidal waste of bandages! We have a mission remember?!" Chūya screamed through his phone while Dazai listened with a nonchalant expression.

"Yea, yea"

"YOU'RE PROBABLY WITH THAT STUPID STRATEGIST AND YOUR EQUALLY STUPID FRIENDS!" He insulted him while Dazai was quite taken aback. He gasped before he returned the screams.

"OI YOU SLUG! YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST JEALOUS THAT I HAVE FRIENDS AND A MOTHER FIGURE!!!" All of you were quite shocked but Dazai didn't even realize what he was saying.

"I DO HAVE FRIENDS! AND I HAVE ANE-SAN!"

"NO YOU DO NOT! YOU MAY HAVE A MOTHER FIGURE BUT ALL YOUR FRIENDS ARE KILLED BY YOUR HOELESS BROTHER!" He screamed, ending the call before Chūya could repriocate what he said and kill him.

"sorry about that, slug was being extra annoying" he smiled but all of them were still processing what he said earlier

"Dazai.. do you see me as a mother figure.?" She asked, coughing. Her words didn't seem to process in his mind for a second or two.

"Of course not! I only said that to piss him off!" He tried explaining, even though his lie was clearly visible; she didn't bother to inquire any further, not wanting to be nosy.

"Now let's go drink I'm thirsty!" Dazai exclaimed, heading to Lupin while they followed.

That was the last time all of them drank. She was sent away because of an organization called the Mimic appeared, Mori kept her busy for a reason she couldn't hold a grasp on. Soon, Ango betrayed the mafia and Oda died. The reason why Mori kept her busy was so she cannot interfere and warn Dazai, now the Port Mafia has a special abilities permit with the cost of everything that mattered to Dazai. She only found out the last minute, and she hates that she can't do anything about it.

After hearing Oda's last words he was about to leave the abandoned mansion until he met her running. She saw Dazai, standing infront of the ballroom door with his head hung low; when she reached him, he collapsed to the floor into her arms. His head was on the crook of her neck, and her arms was around him, hugging him, slowly patting his head as he struggled to breath.

"Shh... It's okay I'm here" Her voice trembled knowing that the kids along with Oda are dead but she could only focus on the poor child in her arms.

"He's dead... Mori-san used the Mimic to get that black envelope and he-" He explained between hiccups.

"I know" She whispered but her voice cracked.

"What did Oda say.?" She patted his back trying to comfort him but his grip tightened on her.

"He wanted me to save people.. to find a value in life" He bit his lip.

"Then go.." She continued to comfort him but he left her embrace upon hearing her words.

"What.?"

"Don't worry about me.. one day you'll find your reason in living, and you would be happy that you listened to him" She smiled at him as he slowly got up.

"Then how about you?" He tried with every bit of strength he could find to convince her to go with him. She got up too, now facing him directly in the eyes she said:

"You're still young, you would be leaving an environment you are never supposed to be in. And I.. My soul is already bounded to the mafia, if I leave with you he'd do what it takes to get me back"

"But still I-"

"Mafiosos will be here soon... Go to Chief Taneda of the Special Division of the Unusual Powers in a small cheep bar, he'll help you. Don't hesitate to turn your back, go" She quickly explained grabbing him by the shoulders with a tenses expression. His lips parted but he didn't know what to say.

"Just go, I'll meet you again" She gave him a reassuring smiled. Upon seeing her eyes, he nodded.

"Thank you.." He quietly muttered before finally leaving.

A/n: Damn that was hard and cringe.. just so you know I kinda got distracted by music while doing this I apologize... For the person who requested this you can go to the comment section and say if you want me to redo it because I'll gladly do so :)

[i-know-you-know-we-know-lee-know]

Enhypen maknae line reacts to their so falling asleep on them

Hi :D Im back

Uh

Thank you for your support

Enjoy this wierd ass looking heart i drew i guess?

💀

Warnings: grammar errors (commas illude me), fluff, me simping for sunno the entire time, spelling errors, not proofread, were all single pringles together, pronouns not specified, "their" used once

repost if you saw the original unfinished version that i accidentally posted because i know some of yall did💀

Hyung line :3

Sunno

Confused but happy

Ya know how he does that head tilt when he's confused

Yeah

He does that

🥺

Pouts his lips and just stares at you in confusion

He's just a little confused baby

There all babys tho

He'll still cuddle you

Just with a little more confusion than normal

Will play with your hair

Running his hands through it

(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

There are no words to describe the feelings he makes you feel

He loves it when you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep on him without a word

Its like you two have your own secret language with no words

*so walks in the room*

*makes eye contact with him*

*falls asleep in his arms a few moments later*

I wish i could do that

He definitely looks forward to when you come home from a long day

Just so you can collapse onto him

I know i said Hoonie was my bias wrecker

But...

_(:3」∠)_

Oh well

Jungwon

🐱

Smol cat boi

Would not let you stay on his lap

Literally rolls over with you on top of him and lays on his side

Then he doesn't let you leave his arms

>:<

But have yall ever been in someones arms when there sleeping?

...

No?

Me neither

💀

I think it would be really hot

WaiT-

No

I meant temperature

I mean if were talking about Jungwon...

But just imagine being trapped against someones body

Unable to move

And overheating

Yeah you push him off you

But then you crawl on top of him

Because you cant fall asleep without him

And you want to make him suffer the way be made you suffer-

Jk

...

Anyways you fall asleep

Together

Like two peas in a pod

And you wake up sideways cuddled into him again

Because he woke up with you on top of him and pushed you off

And then you ended up in the same position you were im before

That sounded really wrong-

Im gonna stop now

Before i make any other wierd jokes

Ni-ki

Well he says he hates it

"says"

Because really who can resist a sleepy person when all they want is to sleep on you?

Nobody

Except him

Or at least he tries

But he still lets you fall asleep on him without complaining

Suspicious  ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° 

As soon as he double checks that your asleep he starts hugging you

Because he cant show weakness when your awake

No no

Because then he would be caught

✨simping✨

For you

And that's not allowed

According to him

Definitely accidentally wakes you up

But you don't tell him

Because you just want soft riki

Who desent

Seriously when he's no serious or tensed up and actually acting like a maknae it makes my heart melt 🥰

You listen to him as he hums you a little song

Thinking your still asleep

Eventually you really do fall back asleep

And he probably falls asleep too

The two of you are another victim to the hyung photos

They will take them just to embarrass you istg

Not even to say how cute you are together

No-

"look how wierd their face looks😀"

It was definitely Sunghoon

Getting back at him for taking sleeping pictures of him sleeping

[nolonger100daysoftavvyfanart]

Upd8 thoughts! I've not done this before here so I might get the number of spaces wrong to hide spoilers under the read more, but I'll try it anyway;

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:readmore:

ok surely that's enough

I'd assumed the note was being read directly after they were shouting at her, but apparently they both snuck out later. I guess maybe Harry and Vrissy got distracted or something? It's also very interesting that he's not using,,, his typing quirk,,, which could imply either:

It's just spoken. The pesterlogs could be explained as him using speech to text and treating it like a phone call, which would be in line with the Crockerlish old-timey stuff, thought nothing else suggests he does this

He can use full stops instead of commas when calm. This makes logical sense; he uses more commas when he's under stress, so he'd obviously use less when he's locked in

He didn't write the note. This is possible, but I hope he did.

The Yiffyism is interesting... Also, we might finally find out why his chumhandle is glutinousGymnast; I've previously speculated that he randomly generated it with a chumhandle generator, which may prove incorrect.

Tavvy rodent imagery is back!

Getting killed while generating a shield is dying while protecting someone. Textbook heroic death, I think this one might just stick... though maybe getting taken out by some mook goon cancels it out?

Goop on the screen is interesting. Could it be ecto-slime?

I'd say the skin is too dark to be a troll but vintage-foods has been known to play with the troll tones... At the very least, we now know that GC isn't AR-Terezi, which was a popular theory.

backwards arc number spotted

The only time I can think of where new word != new species was Jane "bothering" people

I seem to remember Vrissy saying something like "nobody worth messaging anyway" about this new chap. At the time I assumed that meant GC was a bot, but maybe they're just clingy... the run on texting stuff kind of reminds me of Harry.

Maybe the goop is said volatile materials? And now we know they aren't a cherub, since they're skeletons, and skeletons don't have buttcheeks

like... a seer?

Candy kids sburb! wait.

These lines earlier kind of imply that TC and GC actually worked on the game, which none of the beta kids had to do for Sburb. Though I do vaguely remember Sollux had to do something hacker-ish for Sgrub...

Ok the goop is definitely volatile

Time to see how this affects my end flash bingo card! I'll have to change things if this upd8 made them impossible, and I'm allowed to change things if I think they've become unlikely.

I was worried I'd have to eliminate "Deltritus kid intro", but luckily I didn't say it had to be the first one.

I do have to get rid of "Tavvy note read during the flash" because it's already been read now. I also have to lose "Moon laser set off by someone dying", because it's already gone off.

I'll be replacing these later this week I think. Good upd8!

[dustdeepsea]

things I would like to know about fellow writers

thanks for the tag @tellmeallaboutit

Last book I read: I've read so few published books lately but the last thing I read cover to cover and enjoyed thoroughly was Academic Exercises by K.J. Parker (a collection of fantasy short stories).

Greatest literary inspiration: Terry Pratchett, Ursula K. Le Guin, Tanith Lee, Kazuo Ishiguro, David Mitchell, Ted Chiang

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: Rugan/Gale/Tav set in Heart: The City Beneath AU (stares at @littleplasticrat with big eyes)

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: 

Tav as a Chosen of Jergal who cannot meaningfully die until their quest is completed (as a bonus: Came Back Wrong).

Oathbreaker Knight/Paladin!Tav. Possibly an oathbroken Paladin of Eilistraee (Oath of the Ancients). How do you fuck an eldritch concept? I guess we're going to find out. (Psst, Bloodborne fandom knows how.)

I just really enjoy exploring the fallout of the awfulness of Tav's quest even in my smut whoops.

You can recognise my writing by: Extremely Sweaty Feelings, where I place my commas incorrectly (but I am trying to follow Proper Grammar Rules more now that I beta for others!)

My most controversial take (current fandom): Handwaving problems with Magic often removes stakes in story and combat. I'm more interested in less glamourous, low-magic story settings. Approaching it from a "high tech/low life" angle is also cool. I guess that's why the NPCs and factions like the Zhentarim appeal to me.

This probably isn't controversial, but I hate how people need to self-censor and deliberately untag themselves if they want to voice an opinion on their own blog about any of the Origin companions, especially Astarion. That's why I don't even interact with that part of BG3 fandom and I'm not interested in writing for it.

Top three favourite tropes: Enemies to Lovers, "One Flesh, One End", Theory of Narrative Causality (Once Upon a Time)

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): Two

Share a random frustration: I want to write a longfic that hits a 5 act structure. I am deeply terrified of abandoning it halfway. I know that most of the fear is simply because haven't written one successfully before, but I have no idea how it can be done. No one is forcing me to write this; I have 2k worth of notes and outline staring at me right now.

no-pressure tagging @omgkalyppso @say-lene @orlesianapologist

[householdbinary]

OXFORD COMMA - season 1, episode 2

credits to StrifuhnEsuna on the gallery whose all souls university build i used with minor tweaks!

transcription under the cut.

TRIPP: oh, so it’s like… framed as a letter to someone?

GRAMMAR: yeah. read an autobiography once that was in the second person and it kind of inspired me, i guess. TRIPP: word.

TRIPP: uh… yeah, looks good so far. don’t see any mistakes…

GRAMMAR: you’re only on the first page. TRIPP: oh my fucking god, how fast d’ya think i read?! GRAMMAR: well, it’s gotta be faster because we have a whole book to get through. get on with it, white boy. chop chop. TRIPP: alright, alright! jesus…

GRAMMAR, NARRATION: first day. there’s nobody that looks like me on campus. there’s not even anybody that looks like they KNOW someone that looks like me on campus. i’ve tried to dress the part, but it feels like i’m wearing a costume of what everyone else is actually wearing.

GRAMMAR, NARRATION: luckily for me, i didn’t have to go far to find someone i actually did know. ???: grammar?

GRAMMAR: michael?! MICHAEL: oh, babe, i haven’t seen you in so long! it’s been, what… five, six years or something? GRAMMAR: god, i know!

MICHAEL: well, look at us, eh, darling? i think a lot of people didn’t expect to see people like us here. GRAMMAR: fuck, you’re telling me. surprised the rat bastards even fucking let me in, to be honest. MICHAEL: come, come. sit down. we have a lot to catch each other up on. TRIPP, NARRATION: oh shit, you have some tense mixups in this first bit. GRAMMAR, NARRATION: really? tense… mixups… chapter one… alright, noted.

[jaeyunlover]

Hi, I’m Jake

Part 1

Warning:MIGHT CONTAIN smut MIGHT , cursing,a little fluff, minor dni arguing,fighting, yelling ALSO EXCUSE MY WRITING IM NOT GOING OVER IT 😭😭so don’t do me to bad I’m not putting extra periods and comma and stuff but yeah

Jake x reader

Nobody knew what was going on with Jake lately, they would ask him if he was ok ,but he would just say that he was fine but it was clear that he was lying.

After rehearsal Jake left earlier then usual, but they were use to it but of course jay just couldn’t leave him alone. So jay went after Jake saying things like ‘what’s up with you’ but it made Jake even madder and he started yelling at jay saying that he just wanted to be left alone.

“What’s up with him” jungwon asked concerned but annoyed at the fact that Jake is getting mad at everyone and not explaining why or what’s going on.

“I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you guys, it has nothing to do you y’all I’m just tired” Jake texted to the group chat. Everyone looked at each other and and sighed, and with that they ended the day with that texting back “it’s ok” and heading back to the dorms.

Jake was already at the dorm almost half asleep by the time they got there but heeseung couldn’t just leave Jake sad or angry, so he woke Jake up and asked did he want to go to the convenient store and Jake shook his head no but heeseung insisted that he did and Jake got up and put his shoes and jacket on he couldn’t say no to his hyung deer eyes.

Heeseung just wanted a one on one conversation with him, as they left heeseung texted the gc asking what they wanted to eat and should they get snacks. They all texted yeah and that they wanted chicken and heeseung looked at Jake and asked if he was hungry just nodded and heeseung laughed at how cute Jake was acting.

But Jake started crying and heeseung was befuddled and didn’t know what to say or do at that sudden change so he hugged Jake and said “I don’t know what’s going with you but you’ll be ok I’m here and so are the other member so don’t cry anymore , your a strong man right ?” Heeseung sat there patting his head “wanna sit down for a min?” Heeseung asked Jake nodded still not saying anything.

They sat at the nearest resting spot, it was silent and awkward then heeseung asked “so what’s up with you” Jake laughed shyly and a little embarrassed that he cried in front of his hyung “I guess im a little tired and stressed out you know? I feel like I keep making mistakes, we barely get any sleep so I guess im just drained”he said looking a bit better “well we have our holiday this week you can just rest we can also go shopping sounds nice?” Heeseung offered Jake just laugh

“Come on we have to go the store still”heeseung said so they got up and started heading there, as they entered the store there was a group of girls like 3-4 of them and one caught jakes eyes, he couldn’t stop starring at her with his nose still red and his eyes a little puffy.

“Jake ,Jake, Jake, Jake” heeseung repeated himself and stop dead in track when he saw jake light up like a Christmas tree when he saw y/n . She had colored hair that was burgundy and dark brown eyes with thick lips that matched the hips and was very curvy but the only thing that caught jakes attention was her smile.

Heeseung grabbed Jake by the shoulder snapping him out the trance that he was obviously in from the girl that was clearly a foreigner because she kept saying “i don’t understand” with a shy but faint smile when the community complemented her of her looks.

“She’s cute isn’t she?” Heeseung said teasing him but Jake just openly admitted it “yeah” not knowing what he was saying he got flustered and started stuttering “I mean yea- but like y-you know what I mean right”he said with a little laugh

“Come on” heeseung said walking closer to the group with a big smile on his face “no,what are you doing” Jake said chickening out. but he still followed behind heeseung over there, Jake had forgotten all the reasons why he was sad he was TERRIFIED right now what heeseung was thinking of doing. What he had dread came true heeseung spoke to them.

“Are you guys foreigners” he said in his best English accent, “yeah, how about you” y/n asked “yeah I am so is my friend his name is Jake he from Australia” heeseung replied Turning to introduce Jake but he was outta sight Jake hid behind a shelf in the store pretending to look for stuff sweating bullets.

Y/n laughed and asked “you have an imaginary friend?” And laughed at the Joke heeseung couldn’t help but laugh as he walked away looking for jake “stay right here I’ll get him” heeseung said in his broken English accent “ok” y/n said still laughing

“Come on” heeseung said grabbing have hand but jake was pulling away shaking his head fast getting shy “no I can’t” he said scared but laugh because he knows he looks crazy heeseung just said ok and let Jake go but then heeseung did what he thought wouldn’t happen

“I found him he’s over here” heeseung lightly raised his voice a little so they could hear him. They all looked up and headed over to where they were Jake had fear in his eyes and felt betrayed by heeseung and heeseung just laughed at Jake.

“So he isn’t imaginary” y/n joked with him “hi jake my name is y/n how are you” but jake froze he didn’t think that he would see her up close she smelled sweet and fresh and her skin glowing from the store lights she looked angelic

“Your really pretty” Jake just said out loud and heeseung bucked his eyes at the shocking comment “and doing fine how about you” he added “thank you and your cute too and your little accent awwww” y/n said Jake started blushing and heeseung was grinning because he didn’t know where that confidence came from in Jake , he’s usually shy and timid but he stepped out that square for once and it even surprised Jake himself.

Then jungwon texted the group “where are y’all are y’all ok?” Heeseung responded and said “the line was long were on our way home now” and then he ordered the chicken to the dorm so by the time they got there it would be there

“We have to go mind if we get y’all’s contacts” y/n said “yea us too ,and sure” jake said switching there phones and when she gave it back he noticed that she put her name In with a heart emoji like(💕) and with that they all headed home and Jake had a smile all the way home

“Happy you came out” heeseung said laughing “yeah” Jake said blushing looking at her contact name

“What took so long” jungwon asked them not convinced at the text heeseung sent. Then Jake and heeseung looked at each other and started laughing. “Awww your back smiling again im glad your ok now do you wanna talk about it?” Jungwon offered “I was just tired and need some air and stuff you know” Jake said walking toward jungwon giving him a hug “thank you” he added “yoi” jungwon said confused Jake laughed and he went to find Jake and apologize to him “it’s ok don’t worry” jay said laying on the bed scrolling through weverse comments then Jake jumped on the bed bro hugging jay and thanking him.

Sunghoon stood in the door way after getting out of the shower and Jake started walking to him to give him a hug to but he started walking backwards he thought is was cringe and so did Niki

And then he hugged Sunoo “it’s ok Jake everyone have bad days too we’re all humans” Sunoo said hugging him tight and Jake laughed because Sunoo thought he was squeezing tight but he wasn’t

Then the door bell buzzed the food had finally came and heeseung had got out shower and opened up the door and get the food and Jake headed to shower cuz he was the only one hadn’t used it yet. after 15 mins he got out and sat at the table with the other members and prayed for and over everyone food and they ate and ended night and Jake got a call from y/n everyone looked at him and heeseung laughed and so did Jake and they finished their food and went to sleep.

[literaticat]

What do you and your author do if you see errors in the author's published book? Who shares that information with the editor? I assume the publisher will make corrections if there's another printing. I also assume every book has at least a few errors. Have you ever seen an issue beyond the usual typos? Thanks!

I mean -- we really do work hard to try and make sure there aren't any errors -- hence the multiple rounds of revision, copyediting, numerous people going over it with a fine-tooth comb. And yet, sure, I'll bet in every book there is some little errant something that slipped through the cracks - a random comma, or who knows what. For the most part, nobody alerts anybody about these things, because nobody ever notices them or cares.

If there is a mistake that actually IS IMPORTANT -- like an actual ERROR, not just a stray typo -- we tell the editor and they fix it in the next printing.

As for "who shares it" -- I guess depends on who found it? LOL? I don't know. If the author found it, they'd probably tell me, and I'd write to the editor and cc the author, OR, they'd write to the editor and cc me? At the end of the day, it really doesn't matter WHO lets the editor know, the point is, we let the editor know, because WE can't fix it, THEY can.

Have I ever seen an error beyond a typo? Of course. Usually these slip in because amidst all the back-and-forth, an old version of something makes its way through by accident.

Examples:

A caption on an illustration has a wrong date -- that date WAS in an earlier version but got fixed -- but somehow reverted along the way. If this is non-fiction, obviously we want to fix that!

An author decides during first pass pages to find-and-replace change all the instances of "troll" to "elf" and "trolls" to "elves" resulting in characters "selfing around" and riding downtown on "elfeycars" and dining on "sweeelves." Somehow, though this WAS fixed in a subsequent pass, the passes got switched, and, welp. Weirdly, people noticed, but just assumed the author was creating new lingo, and were into it. (I actually am not sure to this day if it DID get fixed in later printings!)

I've also seen it happen where an illustration is wrong for some reason, or a designer makes a mistake -- those, too can be fixed in the next printing.

[lmanburg-letter-service]

Dear Tommy

It’s been a long while

I have been forgetting a lot, but I still remember

I miss you a lot, I’m not sure where you are or anything, or even if you’ll receive this letter, but it’s worth a try, I guess.

I use commas a lot, don’t I?

Irrelevant

Anyways

I’m pretty sure Ranboo misses you too, I wish I could talk to you again

My memory is blotchy but I remember specifically one day, not sure when (but it was pre-l’manburg explosion thingy) we were just in a flower field, you were talking about something, can’t remember, but it’s the happiest memory I have of you. I hold on to it dearly and I’ve never told anyone about it

I don’t know why because when I have a happy memory or thought I usually need everyone to know,

but this feels different, and not even Ranboo has heard about it

I don’t expect you to remember it, it was so long ago. Back when we were happy and innocent.

I’m just speaking, just talking because I hardly expect this to actually go to anyone, much less to even get a reply

sorry if there’s any errors or anything, making errors seems to be my thing.

anyways

I hope you’re doing good, you’re an amazing person and fun to be around. I miss you with your stupidly loud voice and your courage

I think I lost a bit of myself when I wasn’t with you, I got a bit less.. extroverted? I guess? You are just really fun to be around, I guess.

I guess. I’m saying I guess too much.

Doesn’t matter

I’m desperately trying to think of things to write about because I want to keep writing this, I’m almost scared to stop

You used to call me Tubso, I loved that nickname so much. I miss how you would call me that. I miss a lot of things about you

I miss your stupid voice. It’s always real loud, I don’t remember the last time you ever whispered.

I miss how exited you were all the time, you were kinda like a peacock? You know? (Hehe. Cock)

I miss you so much.

I wish I could talk to you again, it’s like I’m missing something because you’re not here. Nobody else has even come close to filling that hole.

I miss you real bad.

Ranboo says I should end it here, so I guess I will.

How do I end this?

I hope the world is treating you well, at least better than it’s treating me

I miss you a lot

okay fine

I’ll end it actually this time

(don’t mind that I went back and added a part, I just don’t ware to stop writing)

(this ended up really long oops)

(I miss you if so didn’t make that clear)

(okay Ranboo is about to dropkick me if I don’t stop writing)

(sorry for any repeats)

(okay now I’m actually done)

From, Tubbo (🐝🐐)

[Letter Sent!]

[bloodgulchblog]

Your writing with characters is really damn goooddddddd <3

I used to write character stuff but then stopped because I noticed that I kept recycling the same words over and over, or I just somehow forgot where I should place my commas. But y'know what? I think I might start again

though the first thing I wrote with Chief in it was a comfort thing with me in it that I made when I felt extremely depressed. I used to write friendships between me and characters when I was upset (REALLY freakin cringe) but it was still a good coping mechanism for when I felt nobody could understand me.

Writing is fun, but sometimes its like "...How tf do I write this down??? 💀"

Thank you! I've done a lot of character writing over the years, so I've got lots of practice. <3

I'm always down for encouraging people to write. Write whatever you want. The more you do it, the more experience you get and the better you get at making it happen when you sit down.

I find that it's easier if I've been reading stuff I like lately. Putting somebody else's words through your eyeballs greases the writing engine, I guess. You see how other people do things and sometimes get ideas.

(I go read real books and do a lot of "you mean they can just SAY the characters go somewhere and the characters DO and they don't have to describe EVERYTHING about that????")

If you want advice for character specifically: if the character is from a thing that has audio and you can hear their voice, listen to it a lot and try to read words in the character's voice. I try and read over my dialogue for the Chief in his voice a lot. (Usually, it reminds me to cut words. He's not a very wordy guy.)

[scary-senpai]

Idk. I went back to working on Collateral Damage after writing it almost killed me. The fic is about Garou at the dojo/takes place pre-canon and for the sake of my sanity I locked the draft in a box for over a year. I am going to put this draft out in the aether and then gnaw on furniture or something.

Content consideration: All the angst; T for Trashmouth, death of parents, literally everyone is made out of red flags, pervasive ennui I guess. Sadness. Abuse of commas and metaphor? Too much Charanko for that literally nobody asked for, and yet. Gratuitous creative license vis-a-vis the way the sunlight falls onto the dojo during the scene in which Bang and Garou meet and making some far-fetched assumptions about what that might mean. I don’t actually know how sunlight works. I don’t actually know how anything works. Writing this fic has probably given me an aneurysm but I don’t think it’s contagious. As far as I know all my betas are still alive, just busy. I kind of edited this but mostly I screamed into the void

“You need to tell me shit like this, you know.”

Garou squinting into his phone, turning the camera to a makeshift mirror. Fresh from the shower, his damp hair hangs tangled across his face. Ashen, waxen, and hollow-eyed, Garou tugs at his gi, running a hand over crumpled fabric that will not smooth for him.

Charanko looks down, hopelessly lost in the room they share. Yet again, they are the last students to leave the dorms. Their classmates are already long gone, warming up, stretching, waiting patiently for class to start.

Garou doesn’t seem to care. He can get away with being late.

“Have you seen my fucking face?” Garou continues. “I look like shit.”

Charanko only knows what not to do—refrain from offering any sort of consolation, or encouragement, or words of concern. He cannot say anything that implies Garou might be weak, because Garou is not weak—in fact, Garou's strength is all he has.

“It's like I got hit by a goddamn bus or something,” Garou says. “All week. Can't sleep. Can't...” The words catch in his throat. “Can't anything,” he says at last, running his fingers through his hair, tugging as they snag on the tangles.

Charanko keeps his breathing cool and even. But before he even opens his mouth, Garou silences him.

All it takes is a single, menacing glance to sever this attempted concern. Charanko's comments fall to the floor, unspoken, mingling with all the dust and the dirty laundry, and everything else condemned to hiding in plain sight. All the while, Garou’s eyes burn with a faraway flame—a spark as easily kindled as it is extinguished.

————-

It’s dawn, but the light is elsewhere. This morning, Garou and Charanko walk together in the darkness, just as they have been doing every morning, since they began sharing the same room.

Somewhere above them, the unseen sun has already started its regular, ritual creep along the eastern side of the mountain. Day is breaking somewhere, or so they’ve been led to believe—Bang's campus, nestled on the western precipice, is both sheltered and obscured by the summit, and the stony cliffs that cast the dojo in their shadow.

In the distance, they can hear their classmates begin their drills. The sounds ring out from the dojo and echo through the harsh and hollow scenery—students laboring beneath blood-red rays that have yet to reach them, waiting for a light they cannot see. 

Outside, the darkness is languidly lifting. Charanko watches the sky above fade from jet-black nothing to solemn hues of funereal blue—a sorry palette of bruises, ash, and incense smoke that colors as much as it reveals.

The world, like Garou, is in bad shape today: dark, harsh, and unforgiving, with harsh contours whittled by cold. The spring storms have culled all the petals from their boughs, and the surrounding trees shiver their miserable little branches, their limbs cutting reticulate fissures through gray and sodden skies. 

“I can't take much more of this,” Garou says.

It’s unclear to whom Garou is speaking, if anyone at all. But he’s stopped walking, and he leans his weight into a fallen branch until it snaps, loud enough to make a point.

“You know, my dad would have been 36 today.”

Garou is unforthcoming with details, but from time to time, he lets things slip. Now that they’ve been spending more time together, Charanko is more attentive to these clues, these little hints spring up like new growth from dead ground:

My father wanted me to finish school.

He never once came to a tournament.

He never once saw me fight.

It’s not all his fault, I guess, but fuck—

Garou raises his eyes to the roiling sky, dark clouds backlit by strained light. He stopped walking a long time ago. Maybe he’s waiting for Charanko to catch up, maybe he’s lost in thought. It’s certainly a scene.

Spring in the mountains is mercurial and distant; there’s always more bad weather ahead. Last night's storm spared them, but there’s always more, there’s always something.

Garou grips the cellphone in his hand. Five fingers grip the scratched and battered plastic, five fingers white and rigid, impossibly cold.

“I just want my dead mom to call me once in awhile,” Garou says, staring intently at his feet, at the broken pieces beneath them. “Is that too much to ask?”

Charanko is, as always, lost for words. What to make of this strange boy—this visibly exhausted child, who has dragged himself out of bed, into the showers, and now to class—and for what, exactly? To strike down Charanko's concerns with one breath and then sputter out confessions in the next?

He settles for a murmur and a silent nod. I heard you, Garou. I’m here.

But Charanko, of course, says none of this aloud; Garou is tasked with breaking his own silence.

“I know, I know,” Garou sighs, almost sounding like himself. “No phones in class.”

Garou slowly lifts his head to reveal his features, the wide smile that cuts across his face like an open wound.

“Get the fuck inside, Charanko. It’s gonna rain any minute.”

Already Garou’s laughing, back to normal, or whatever he can pass for it.

[funkymbtifiction]

I’d see in type descriptions how Fe feels like they fit in, and then they learn to stand out, but I don’t feel like that’s true for me. I feel like I can’t fit in, but I desperately want to.

I would say that is how most FJs feel. Not that they are automatically accepted, but that they desperately want to be.

Sure I wanna be authentic, and I say that, but then as soon as I do something abnormal or weird or get a negative reaction from people, I start internally criticizing myself and start changing my behavior to appear more normal and fit in.

Why? Why do you want to be more normal and fit in? Digging into the why will be very self-revealing. (To get love? Approval? To avoid being a target for others? To smooth things over?) And... question what normality is. What IS normal and who qualifies? Everyone but you? Is this an arbitrary invisible standard that you are creating in which to use to self-punish and self-criticize?

How do you combat feelings of sensitivity?

By learning to step back and consider the source. You cannot control what others say and do, but you can control your reaction to it. If you decide not to be overwhelmed all the time by others, you can often take some down time and work through your feelings.

Criticism can deeply affect me as a person and it can make me feel worthless.

Here again, it's important to use Ti to think about the criticism and ask if it is valid or helpful. Constructive criticism points out a problem (that is not an insult) and helps you solve it. Constructive criticism is "you need a comma in this sentence so it reads better," or "you seem to be too affected by this, you need some distance from it." General criticism is often not useful and reflects someone's own feelings -- ie,I don't like _______. If there's no solution behind it, if it cannot be fixed, criticism is not useful and can be dismissed. So consider the source, consider their intentions, consider how useful it is, don't automatically internalize it and beat yourself up with it. Learn to keep it about the subject it's on, not on its indication of your character.

Especially when it comes to trying new things, and I don’t get it on the first try, I have the urge to basically give up.

Two thoughts with this confession --

Are you seriously getting criticized on your first try? If so, what does that tell you about the character of the person criticizing your first attempt? (Clue: they are neither patient nor compassionate.)

It's unrealistic to assume you are going to be perfect or get it on the first try. Expertise and skill comes with 10,000 hours of practice! Why would you be the magical child who gets it right the first time? Why are you so easy to defeat? Why would you give up instead of keep trying? Where's your fighting spirit? Keep trying!

Why can everyone get it but not me?

They keep trying.

I lowkey wish I wasn’t so sensitive or didn’t care about what others thought of me compared to my peers.

Me too. I'll let you in on a secret: they don't care. It's you who care, who thinks everyone is watching you, waiting on you, judging you, when in reality, everyone is obsessed with themselves. So worried about how THEY are coming across, nobody is thinking about you nearly as much as you think they are. What this means is that you are free to be yourself, to do what you think is best, and to try again. In truth, people respect and admire those who keep trying more than those who give up, so give yourself the gift of persistence.

Something else -- the older you get, the more this will matter less. As you get older and go through life, you will find some things are more important than being included or seen as normal. I am guessing you are quite young and that is always a confusing time of trying to figure out who you are and how you fit into the world. Cut yourself some slack. It will be okay. :)

[spookytriumphchopshop]

Nobody is listening and I know that do you ever feel like you can't stand anything I tried online therapy but they want money I don't have that's stupid all I want is someone to rant to I'm stuck in the past my mind keeps going over my mistakes I've made the only thing that's I guess calming it is telling myself that I was stupid back then and I'm sure I have anger problems everyone just seems so in there own world not careing about what you have to say like when I tell people kids don't need a phone they don't listen then I'm painted to be in a bad mood when no I'm pointing out what should be common knowledge I've gotten mad and hit/yelled and my cousins in the past i feel bad about that they were kids I'm the oldest out of all my cousins I've overdosed when I was 17 and when I was around 15 that's when I started hurting myself but I haven't done anything in nearly two years I guess I'd be known as built-proof because I was born early the doctors didn't think I'd make it but I did when I was 18 I got the flu and nearly died and most of the time I'm asking god why i made it why am I still here i don't know you know there were many chances when I could have died what am I being kept here for I've been in and out of therapy a few different times once I had a mental evaluation but that went nowhere since therapy wants money that I don't have this is going on here god i feel stupid i need to add commas and stuff like that

[crabbri]

Cowriter ask game Meloni and Nadia sent me (surprise! look mom, im a cowriter now!)

Favorite part of cowriting?

Having someone hold me accountable- it sounds odd, but I lose steam/motivation when writing so quickly that having people to bounce off of ROCKS

Least favorite part of cowriting?

Now when I procrastinate I get stern messages. It's always "why didn't you contribute to the doc" and not "how was your 4 hour nap and 9pm bedtime" sobs /lh

How did you meet?

Joined a discord server on a whim, was kidnapped by a sentient fruit and a literal playing card (dont be in VC alone with them theyll GET U)

Favorite thing you've written together?

Can't say- yet ;)

What's the brainstorming process like?

I usually wake up to like 300+ missed messages in chat, read like three of them, then frantically check if someone has actually organized the outline (or contribute to making one)

What's the system for writing?

Oh, you know, the usual- human sacrifice, moon worship, bloodlust, words appear

What's a running bit in your writing?

Typing the word 'grian' when none of us can think of anything, then nobody adding onto it for at least several days. When we do add onto it, even if that name is the next word in the fic, we erase it and rewrite it

What future projects do you have in mind?

I have at least two aus im cookin! But the idea doc for the cowriters is a mess. I would fear going in there with a loaded gun

What's one way to tell something was written by you in your cowritten fics?

I love long sentences with many commas/dashes/semicolons, describing setting/body language/specific trains of thought, and short but impactful conversation

Describe your cowriters' writing style in three words.

the word 'ceded'

mumbo jumbo dialogue

(go ahead and guess who's who LOL)