#on top of making the edits to actually make it make sense outside of the twine

[chenziee]

Get more info and/or play the Twine game hosted by @/truffyfest here!

The Devil card is the worst ending by the way; set during the Blackbeard vs Heart Pirates fight, it's gore and death and just overall no one is having a good time out there (except me). Very much Dead Dove; Do Not Eat (and it would be worse than it is in the Twine). Just so you know before casting your vote ahaha

The Devil Reversed is the good ending of the same scenario. No gore no death, complete with a cute bonus time-skip.

(Also by reworking I mean editing it so that it can be read as standalone and without the context of the Twine)

[whatusername00]

Which Baldur's Gate Characters Know How To Lace Up Their Clothing - Camp Edition

I got this idea because I noticed Gortash's shirt isn't laced properly, and then noticed Astarion's shirt isn't laced properly, so now I need to look at as many characters as I can because I can't stop noticing. And I'm about to spend too much time on this for it to stay in my brain. Starting with all characters who appear at camp (main party + others.)

Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Gale, Withers, Aylin, Mizora, Duke Ravenguard, Emmaline, and Arnell don't have lacing on their camp outfits.

Starting with the default clothes for Tav. Yes, they know how to lace their shirt. Good job. This particular Tav is Durge, so it's good to know he didn't forget how when his brain got Swiss'd. However, it's not perfectly consistent because on the bottom 2 sets of eyelets he threads from the outside, but the third set he threads from the inside. Though this is probably intentional so the lacing doesn't hang on the inside of his shirt, so 9/10.

Astarion, baby boy, you were so close. But unfortunately there are two pairs of eyelets where he threads one side from the outside and one from the inside. For someone who wants to appear so put together, you think he could take the two extra braincells to lace his shirt consistently. 7/10.

Threaded consistently the whole way through...with one side. Why didn't you finish lacing your shirt? Why even lace one side if you weren't going to lace the other? Why isn't the lacing that you didn't finish shorter than the one that you did finish? All questions I can't answer because I cannot ask. 7/10 at least it's consistent.

I couldn't get a good in game screenshot of Karlach since her lacing is on her pants, but I found a texture rip so I can work with it. So the lacing here is the same all the way through, super consistent, *mwah*, but...it's sneakily unnecessarily complicated. Typically, the lacing that laces from the inside to outside would sit on top, but it's not that way on her pants. She pulls the lacing through the eyelet, then threads it under the other part of the cross, then threads it through the top of the next eyelet. And with as much lacing as her pants have, this must have taken forever for no extra benefit. It would have been easier to let it sit on top. 8/10 its pretty though.

Halsin. Beautiful. Gorgeous. I choose to believe the knots are hidden on the inside. No other notes. 10/10.

I've never actually recruited Minthara so I took a picture from the BG3 wiki. Just like Halsin, beautiful. Again, I choose to believe the ends are hidden on the inside. 10/10.

Jaheira's pants lace the same way Halsin's shirt does: perfectly. Though if the knot is hidden on the inside, I feel like that would be more uncomfortable, so I'm gonna headcannon that it ties at her waist under her shirt. Other than that, 10/10.

Minsc's shirt uses the same model as Wyll's so everything I said there applies here, though I feel like it makes more sense for Minsc. My real gripe here is that Minsc is a liar. Talking 'bout some thrice laced pants, but I didn't see any lacing on those pants. How dare he trick me in this way. 6/10 I don't like being lied to.

Yenna's mom may be dead, but she made sure her baby knew how to lace her shirt before she did. She may have gotten kidnapped by Orin, but she looked put together while doing it. Perfect 10/10. She deserves it after what she went through.

After being dead for 100 years, Isobel didn't forget how to lace her armor. Gotta be put together to see her girlfriend again. 10/10 Isobel can do no wrong.

Volo...I don't know what you've done to the front of your pants but it doesn't look good. Some of those crosses are missing. It looks sloppy. What is this. This is something I would do as a joke to see if anyone noticed. Well I noticed and I hate it. 2/10 it keeps your pants closed I guess.

That's it for the camp. I'll link other sets of characters below as I do them.

Tieflings

[diremoone]

“how i wonder” | r. sukuna

it’s been ages since he’s celebrated any sort of birthday or holiday. but here he is, with the girl that’s best friends with his little brother, at her apartment with Chinese takeout and watching a Halloween movie on Christmas. and it’s nice, until the power goes out and he’s left with his own thoughts.

part one | part two | part three

w — modern! au, fluff, age gap, older man/younger woman, Sukuna is 36 & Reader is 22/23, slowburn, pining (on Sukuna’s end), Sukuna thinks too damn much in this one but he’s so intrigued by reader he can’t help it haha, celebrating Christmas solely to feel happy and not lonely (sorta; on both ends), this was originally named “snow sparrow” but then was unhappy with it lmao, and many other tags I may have forgotten lmao

[ divider credit @/inklore ]

A man as wealthy as him shouldn’t be seen outside of the fancy home and set of cars he owns. His bank account is big, too big to be standing in the elevator of a simple apartment complex. Although the place is nice, he thinks. It’s not older than him and dilapidated and run down like some awful things he’s seen, nor was it built fresh and fancy and made to be super expensive. It was simple, and a despite liking the finer things in life, he found the simplicity rather… nice for a change.

This was only half-scheduled: meeting you at your place for the holiday. You’d been with Yuuji for a final essay assignment before the school break. Nothing major, just helping him edit grammatical errors and fix his repetitive word usage. That was two weeks ago; two weeks have passed since you made an offhand comment about “two bored people being bored together” for the the holiday.

Sukuna would never deny he wouldn’t outright admit it either that his little brother living with him brought something great into his life: a woman that he enjoyed challenging him, bringing him a new sense of vigor for life beyond the seven sins he was accustomed to.

His hands seem to be sweaty, though he’d like to think it was because of the several bags of Chinese takeout in his large hand. His left? Probably from having his phone in his hand too much. Yeah, that sounded right. He has no reason to be nervous. Why should he be? No need to dwell on it any further.

He passes by only maybe four or five people on his way up to your apartment that’s on the top floor. The few people he does encounter don’t meet his gaze; instead either intimidated or dumbstruck by his monstrous height and imposing aura and can only make a quick glance at him, probably wondering what such a person like him, especially as big as him, was doing in such a simplistic, plain apartment complex.

Sukuna eyeballs the door numbers, even on the left and odd on the right. Yours is four doors down on the right, 407 if he remembers correctly.

No, he remembers perfectly. Why wouldn’t he?

Sukuna knocks twice and readjusts the bags of warm food in his other hand. He catches himself shifting his feet underneath him like a nervous schoolgirl and almost cusses at himself, had it not been for the tiny metallic click of a lock.

You seem surprised, bewildered slightly that he’s really standing in front of your apartment door. Like you hadn’t actually expected him to take you up on the half-joking offer of spending the holidays together as two “lonely people.” You’re essentially a deer in headlights.

But a beautiful deer in headlights.

He can smell the subtle scent of lavender from you, a smell he hadn’t expected, but was certainty… entranced by it, and with a hint of something fruity mixed in there as well. The soft, navy blue sweater leans slightly more off of your left shoulder, revealing the black bra strap underneath. The black leggings you’re wearing make images go through his head that he’s tried to keep in behind the doors of his office and bedroom. You don’t even have to wear makeup, even try in the slightest to look as beautiful as you do. You’re natural, and you’re not afraid of it. You’re already confident in your own skin, even at your younger age. And heavens, does he love it.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Just like he thought. “But come on in. That’s smells good.”

Sukuna doesn’t get to see the cartoon cow slippers you’re wearing until he’s taking off his own shoes at your front door. His mouth quirks up in a small grin.

Adorable.

“Food can go on the table,” you say, gesturing to the low, long and flat coffee table in front of the couch. “I’ll get drinks. Sorry if you don’t like tea, but that’s all I got.”

“That’s fine.” His voice sounds almost foreign to himself as he stands in an unfamiliar place. But at the same time, he thinks it fits. Like he belongs here in this simplistic but nice apartment of yours, here with you having dinner and spending- You know what, he can stop thinking for a moment and focus on the present.

He’s in deep thought as he takes in the expanse and decor of your home further. It’s nice, definitely nicer than what he expected. His eyes take it all in, but finishes when his eyes land on the cute little Christmas tree tucked away in the corner beside the door to the patio, with tiny, glittery ornaments twinkling as the interwoven, multicolored lights shine against them.

God, you’re almost too cute.

But he couldn’t help but wonder for a small moment how you were faring expenses for this place, alongside groceries and going to school most of the time.

“You must manage your finances well to live here,” he hums.

“I’m not as dirt poor as I used to be, I’ll say that,” you reply. “But even then, being stingy will always be ingrained into my DNA.”

“Even if you have the world at your feet?”

You point to him with the index finger wrapped around your cup of tea, smiling. “Keyword: always~ World or not, the bare necessities are fine for me.”

He swallows down what your words do to him and tries to keep a straight face. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the way you inadvertently say you’ll always feel like you’ll never have anything to desire or genuinely want outside of pure necessity. Sukuna doesn’t like how natural it sounds, how uncaring you are towards wanting more than what you have now. He knew you were like this somewhat, but not to this extent. It makes him… a little angry.

So, now he knows the diamond necklace he bought you won’t be received like he wants it to be.

Guess I’ll have to save it for another time, he notes tactfully, watching you settle the food on the table and hop onto the couch and get comfortable.

The ambience of your home is a change of pace Sukuna didn’t know he needed. Until now.

He’s a giant, giant man, so he takes up most of the couch, even with it being relatively large in itself. You don’t seem to mind however, with the way your feet are barely a centimeter away from touching his leg.

“Any movie or show preferences?”

“Anything but Yellowstone.”

You snort. “What do you have against Yellowstone?”

“Dialogue’s too goddamn fake.”

You toss your head back and let out a boisterous laugh, giggling like a madwoman.

“So, the Powerpuff Girls then?”

“You’re not five.”

“Everyone has an inner child.”

Sukuna grumbles. “Just put it on fuckin’ Yellowstone.”

You throw your hands up in mock surrender, right hand only a few fingers lifted from holding the remote. “How about… Squid Game?”

“For a Christmas show? You’re weird as hell.”

“The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Sukuna chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll let you decide.”

The spooky movie is ultimately what you choose, and Sukuna finds it nothing short of amusing. He’s not fully interested in the movie, mostly interested in you and the quirkiness that made you choose such a movie on a day like this. His eyes flicker between you and the movie, watching you munch down on the lo mein.

It’s been ages since Sukuna has allowed himself to indulge in relaxation, allowed his mind to think of absolutely nothing but the childish movie in front of him that was picked out for him.

One would think a man like him would let his attorneys and the supervisors directly underneath him do all of the thinking for him while he bathed in his own riches. Sukuna did, yes; he used to. But he knows that one step too far into indulgence could mean the end of everything he put all of his blood and sweat into. And that was why he was so involved in his business, rather than let someone else handle it.

But here he was: indulging himself. (But it wasn’t the same as being on a yacht with women somewhere in the Caribbean.) Perhaps the difference was it wasn’t indulgence of sin, but rather the indulgence of peace and quiet; the desire for more than the company of a one-night stand.

You certainly deserved better than any sort of degrading, essentially whore-like treatment the women he used to be around were given and treated themselves as. You were nothing like them, not even slightly; you would never willingly to jeopardize your morals and dignity, not even for a chance to be with someone like him, as wealthy as him. That kind of interest was on the back-burner. As much as he hated it, he respected it just as much.

Sukuna half-watches the movie as he eats the takeout, not having seen it since one of his first girlfriends as a teenager introduced him to it. It was never important, never intriguing enough for him — nothing but a waste. But now, since you chose it, now it was enough for him to watch it. He finds he enjoys Jack Skellington, amused by his desire to take over Christmas Town. He also feels some sort of similar between him and Jack, regarding Jack’s interest in Sally and him… with you.

“You want a refill?” you ask suddenly, drawing the man from his thoughts. Sukuna looks down, seeing that he was almost out of the tea. Had he been so deep in his own thoughts he didn’t know he’d been sipping away at the drink? He almost scoffs in disbelief.

“If you don’t mind,” he replies. But he figures he’s going to need to use the restroom soon.

“Bathroom’s first door on the left,” you say, getting up after pausing the movie. He’s dumbstruck for a moment. Were you a mind reader?

Sukuna watches you in the reflection of the television. Even just refilling the drinks, you manage to enamor him. You seem so poised, yet so uncaring that someone of his status was sitting in your living room, watching a corny Halloween movie for Christmas. Perhaps being so uncaring went hand-in-hand with how poised and calm you were? There shouldn’t be any other explanation than that.

But why? He wondered what made you unlike the other women, even ones at your age that were nothing but a flustered mess at the mere sight of him. Why weren’t you the same?

He excuses himself to the bathroom and makes it quick. He sees the bottle of lavender body wash, then notices the shampoo, conditioner — the fruity smell he inhaled earlier. With a quick glance, Sukuna sees no perfume either, which perplexes him.

There’s no way she could possibly… Sukuna ponders, but doesn’t finish the thought. And all of a sudden, the lights flicker, hard. It’s something that’s been happening for the last hour or so, but it’s been something he’s ignored until now.

Sukuna ambles back into the living room, seeing the lights dim just as hard as a few seconds ago. Your still in the kitchen, but narrow your eyes slightly at the darkened lights.

“I didn’t see this place as having bad electricity,” he hums, sitting to face the TV, continuing to watch you in the reflection.

“It doesn’t,” you reply. “I suspect the snowstorm’s fixing to get bad enough to knock the power out soon. Now would probably be a good time to leave. I can still see a few snow plows out.”

“I’ll pass,” he replies coolly. “Besides, two cold and lonely souls are better than one.”

He doesn’t know why you let out a tiny snort and giggle, but you do. (A little flower of pride wants to bloom in his chest.)

You lift the lid to the slow cooker and stir. The smell of chocolate reaches his nose after you seal it.

“It’s almost done,” you suddenly speak, “if you’re done watching my reflection in the TV, would you like some hot chocolate?”

Busted. Sukuna knows that he’s now the deer in headlights; his heart thumps harder in embarrassment like a schoolgirl’s would.

“How sweet is it?”

“I’ve no idea. I fucked around with the recipe, so we’ll just have to find out.”

A sudden click is heard, and all the lights fade instantly. It’s completely dark, pitch black almost that neither you nor Sukuna can see in front of yourselves. He moves to stand, but you interject. “Sit, please. I don’t need your big ass knocking my shit over. Nor you getting a concussion.”

Sukuna laughs. “You have it covered then?”

“Could walk this place if I was blind,” you joke with a small snicker.

He watches you find four different candles to light up your apartment, one each for the kitchen and bathroom, and two for the living room. You disappear into your bedroom down the hall for a few moments, then you come back with a surprising, heaping mess of blankets hiding your form from nearly head-to-toe.

“Help me, please? Don’t let it fall on the food.”

Sukuna stands and his big arms wrap around the bundle of blankets, lifting them from you with ease. You pluck one from his grasp and quickly put it over the couch for extra warmth. You’re not about to freeze your ass off with him here.

You get under the blankets fairly quick. It takes nearly two king-sized ones you’ve had tucked away to cover the colossal man that is Ryomen Sukuna.

“Think the food is still warm?”

“Barely.”

“Are you gonna finish the lo mein then?” you ask.

“You can have it.” He half wishes he hadn’t eaten before he came so he didn’t seem so… uninterested in the food.

You have absolutely no shame devouring the remaining food as much as you possibly can in front of him. You eat as much as you can, but there’s still enough of the food left for him if he wants it. It just a matter of it getting cold, you think.

The temperature drops faster than you anticipate though. When you chuck the empty box of noodles into the trash from the living room (you made it, huh, that’s weird) a gust of wind rattles the patio doors, seemingly almost shaking the foundation of the complex. You hear a hum of surprise from the older man next to you as you huddle under the covers more. You shudder from the onslaught of the cold.

Sukuna sighs heavily. He pulls his arm from the blankets “Come ‘ere.”

He almost laughs at the blanched expression on your face. But after a few moments, you cave, scooting yourself closer to him until you two were practically touching thighs.

You squeak as he lifts one of the blankets with one hand and you with the other, trapping you under the second layer.

You shake your head and snort. “God, you’re shameless.”

Sukuna belts out a boisterous laugh. “Shame has never come easy for me.”

You scoff playfully. “I’m sure it hasn’t.”

“Nor does it for you,” he retorts.

And then you admit something that’s going to be on his mind for the rest of his time here. And perhaps for days after this, too: “Mine is more of a learned habit.”

Another gust of bitter cold shakes the patio doors again. You shiver. “Jesus, I didn’t expect it to get this cold.”

“Or for the power to go out.” He huffs. Like second nature, for both of you, he pulls you closer, and you lean into his massive body, taking in the heat his body.

Goodness, you think, closing your eyes, he’s a furnace…

Today certainly hadn’t gone as he expected. The last thing he was anticipating was a snowstorm blowing out the electrical system for several cities, snow falling several good feet and keeping him in the apartment of the woman he’s fallen for.

But you’re what is consuming his mind.

You’re on his lap, eyes closed and resting your head on his chest. You’re so small. Regardless of height, virtually anyone would be smaller than him; he’s a behemoth of a man, yes he knows it.

You, compared to him, are simply tiny, like a bird in the hands of a giant. So delicate, so small and cute. But as delicate as you are, you’re not glass. You’re small like a sparrow, but at the same time you desire freedom, using your wings to fly wherever and do whatever, regardless of how hard life would make your wings have to flap. Your soul isn’t easy to chain down… It’s beautiful.

“Does your brain always run a billion miles a minute this late?”

He grumbles. “Sleep, would you?”

“Your brain has no depth, does it?” you say. Then you ask, “Are you even okay with me sleeping on you?”

“If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be in this position, would we?”

You yawn in reply, nestling your head comfortably on his torso. A small “okay” leaves your lips, and you seemingly have no problem steadying your breath and falling asleep against his chest. It’s nice, being that way for a good few minutes. Well, until you prove you’re not asleep like he thought.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Sukuna almost jumps and cusses, “Goddamn it.” You seem to know that you’ve startled him and laugh in return.

You keep conversation easy; although the two of you talk anything but what is on his mind. That’s not something he’s ready for. He’s still sorting out his own feelings, seeing if they’re beyond just being enthralled with you and your personality. Seeing if what he’s feeling is just high intrigue for you as a person, or whether what he’s feeling is going to lead to something more, beyond intrigue and fascination.

Because he knows that you won’t be able to stay forever. He knows that you, your soul, isn’t going to be easily bound by just anyone. He knows that you want to be unbound, he sees it in your eyes and hears it in your voice; he sees the desire to live freely in the way you carry yourself, the way you act and behave. But holy shit; does he want to be the one to change that.

You carry conversation easy, but eventually you fall asleep on him. The hot chocolate in the slow cooker is forgotten, but he’s sure it’ll be just as good in morning.

Sukuna, as he closes his eyes, wonders about the things you want. Where you’d want to go and the things you want to do. That kind of talk, however, is reserved for a time where there’s a deeper connection between the two of you. It’s reserved for a time where your walls are down and you’re no longer on guard, no longer having your walls built higher than heaven and deeper than hell.

For now, you two are two lonely souls celebrating Christmas, cuddled up to one another for the sake of warmth and nothing more during a sudden blackout.

It would be ludicrous to wonder if you’ve ever wanted to be loved and cherished, married to someone that would cradle your head and tilt it back to kiss you with the utmost devotion a human heart could give.

Now wouldn’t it?

a/n: I know that this is slowburn and everything, but it feels… superbly subpar? pls let me know if you guys think otherwise. this went about 85% of the original plot I had in mind so that’s a plus haha. I have full intent of picking up a bit on the romance aspect (of reader beginning to develop feelings) of this series in the next chapter, which briefly takes place after this one (I promise there’ll be at least one kiss)

—

taglist: (basically everyone that rb’d and commented on the first [for those that tagging worked on] ;; closed)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Abby Anderson modern day head-cannons

Parings - Abby Anderson if the apocalypse never happened

Tw- some nsfw at the end

An- this is both In general headcannons and relationships

Abbys father is a neurosurgeon so mans is loaded bro 😭- abby def went to one of those hella expensive private schools.

She’s kinda old and new money

So Abby can go three ways ok

The typical basic blonde IT girl

Straight girl on the weight lifting team

Muscular masculine lesbian

I think we all know which one makes the most sense.

Abby wouldn’t come out to her father about being a lesbian until like high school

I’m pretty sure her mom died in the beginning of the apocalypse but it could be safe to assume that she’s also a doctor in modern day

Abby would of gone to a really good university and become a neurosurgeon like her father

While in medical school she met Nora and Mel - they knew Owen and manny and that’s how the group all met

She would of definitely done sports - so sports Abby did would be

Weightlifting

Basketball

Ice hockey

She’ll go online and see the thirst edits and comments about her and laugh because she’s not only flattered but she’ll find multiple women who are her type and like their comments.

HEAVVVYYY against college parties like girly is a student athlete and on a scholarship for her medical degree — she’s always studying and doesn’t want to do anything to ruin her scholarship

After she gets her degree she works in a well known and high paying hospital

Got a German Shepard and named her Alice

Graduated top of her class

A big football fan and if her school has a football team she would go to every home game.

You and Abby most likely met in college.

you two met after both taking a same extracurricular.

she had to actually prep talk herself into actually going up to you and talking to you

once she actually asked you out she was freaking out over wether or not you actually liked her (she had Nora help her pick out an outfit)

after a few dates she awkwardly asked if she could be your girlfriend. You said yes of-course

At first you thought the relationship would be hard since Abby’s always busy but much to your surprise she always made time for you

After like a week together she took you to meet her parents, you were anxious as her parents were well known medical professionals but they welcomed you with open arms

Once she introduced you to the friend group you knew you were stuck with her.

Is overly protective of you- a guy hits on you she’s passive aggressively getting into his face. Some girls are starting drama with you - she’ll tell them to fuck off . A teacher is refusing to take your paper late - Abby will go have a one on one possibly bribe the teacher to take your paper.

If you did well on exams she’ll take you out to a nice resturant however if you did poor she’ll reassure you take you to a comfort food restaurant and help you study next time.

Outside Abby’s the sweetest most gentle person you’ve ever seen however in the bedroom it’s completely different

Abby is the type of woman to take her time devouring you. She would spend hours between your thighs with her tongue on your clit and her thick fingers pumping in and out of you painfully slow

She can either be soft and loving whispering sweet nothings into your ear taking her time with you compaired to when she lost an important game or is stressed out about exams she’ll fuck you like no tomorrow, denying you your orgasm and degrading you, with her thick strap deep into you

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eight

Summary: Jungkook shows you how you deserve to be loved but you're still doubting yourself Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 3.1k~ Warnings: Smuuuuutttt and explicit language lol a/n: Sorry I edged ya'll for so long but I wrote all day just to get this out! That you for the people who sent me asks about the story because I definitely took a lot longer to update than I thought I had (I swear I either update too soon or wait wayyy too long) p.s. Barely edited so please have mercy on me lol Start from the beginning

"Lift your hips for me love" he says while caressing the outside of my thigh and I do as he says. He places a pillow under me, angling my hips just how he wants them, giving him a better angle this time. 

He takes time to study my body, almost as if he was committing it all to memory. 

"Stop doing that" I whine, getting embarrassed by his heated gaze and he chuckles dryly as I use one of my feet to push him away by his shoulder. "I'm sorry I can't help it, you're just so beautiful" he mumbles and I have to choke back a sound I would be embarrassed to let out as a reaction to his word alone. Not wanting to let him how much control he has over me and my body. 

"I want you" I say, sitting up and grabbing him by the neck to pull him down on top of me  to stop this waiting game. He responds with kisses laced with almost a sense of desperation, him now showing physical responses based off of my words. 

"You have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that to me" he says against my lips and that same fluttering feeling stirs up inside me. I open my eyes as he's just resting his lips against mine and see that he's looking at me and I turn my face to the side but he pulls me back towards him and caresses my cheek.

"How long have you known I wanted you?" he asks and the air in my lungs disappears, not knowing how I'm supposed to respond to it. "A while" I choke out and he nods his head resting it against mine. "Thank you for not leading me on" he says and he doesn't give me a chance to respond as he's pressing his lips against mine and driving me crazy as his fingers start to toy with me again. 

"You sure you want to do this?" he says, pumping two fingers in and out of me before adding another one making me tense up at the stretch but soon I'm putty in his hands again. "Yes please fuck Jungkook please I want this I want you" I say, emphasizing the last part since I know it drove him crazy just moments ago. 

I hear him curse under his breath before he get off of me and takes off his shirt, flashing those jaw dropping abs I was sure he had. Nothing insane but just enough to show me how well he takes care of himself leaving me wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did to deserve a man like him. 

Once he takes off his jeans and boxers I know I'm done for, leaving me gulping at his size. 

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you" he says, taking note of my apprehension as he gets on top of me again. "But what if I want you to hurt me?" I question, testing the waters and seeing how far he would push me. "No none of that. At least not tonight. I don't want any of this to be brought back to him" he growls out, hating the fact that he's even mentioned him. 

"I want to show you what you actually deserve and I want you to know that I will never treat you like that" he says and goes back to playing with my entrance, drawing figure eights around my clit to help me loosen up for him. 

I whine and he laughs, knowing exactly how impatient I'm getting, "I know pretty, I know. I just don't wanna hurt you" he says and drags his middle finger against that spot I've been dying for him to get to all night. "Fuck right there" I groan, back arching off the mattress and he does it again making my breath hitch, knowing this is only the beginning. 

"So greedy. Just trying to get you ready for me and you can't even appreciate what I've already given you. Noona I thought you knew better than that" he taunts and I moan when he hits that spot again. "Does my Noona like being talked down to?" he asks and I let out a breathy yes, not being able to comprehend everything completely but knowing I'll love anything he'll give me. 

"Noted" he says under his breath, tucking that bit of information in the back of his mind to use later but knows he wants to treat me differently tonight. 

He rubs his cock head up and down my fold and I can't help but purr at the feeling, so addicted to him already and knowing that I'll never want anyone else but him. 

I watch him with his brows pinched together, concentrating and also getting lost in the feeling. The vision of his cock running through my folds is a mesmerizing scene that he hardly wants to stop but once I start to wiggle my hips in frustration he knows that he's toyed with me enough.

"You sure you want this?" he asks again, once last confirmation of my consent and although I'm glad that he's being careful I just need him inside me already. "Fuck yes Jungkook please" are the words that fall from my lips, accompanied by a moan as he's started to press himself into me right when they've left my mouth. 

My eyes squeeze shut as he inches inside of me and once his head is all the way in I let out a breath and he stops, resting his forehead against mine and waits for me to relax. "Can I keep going?" he groans out, holding back being so hard for him with the way I've been wrapped around him. 

"Yes just go slow" I breath out and he does as I say, something about this moment almost makes me feel like a virgin again. The sounds, the sensations, the way he touches me, it all feels too pure and so new, as if he was scared I might break. 

My breath hitches a few times as he continues to push in but once he's bottomed out and has hit that spot I let out a moan, feeling close to cumming already.

He gives me a few more seconds to adjust, his breathing even shakier than mine making me feel the need to check on him. 

"Jungkook what's wrong?" I ask, surprised as to how I can even speak with him buried this deep inside me but my want to take care of him stronger than any high I might be seeking. "N-nothing it's just been a while" he chuckles, muscles in his back contracting and I can tell how much he's been holding himself back.

"You can move" I breathe out, happy knowing that he hasn't been with someone in a while and also that he's putting my needs before his own.

"Shit Noona you feel so good" he says as he rocks back and forth into me. A deep and sensual rhythm rivaled to Tae's harsh and sharp one, making sure I enjoy it rather than hurrying to simply chase that high. 

"You're so perfect for me" he say, mumbling every little thought that comes to his head, praising  me and making me drunk off his words, bringing me closer and closer to release with every thrust. 

"Kiss me" I say, my moans and breathy gasps getting too embarrassing for me to listen to anymore. He obliges but only for a moment, kissing me breathless but pulling back again so he can watch as my face contorts with pleasure. 

"Fuck you're so pretty" he says, thrusting harder now, driving me up the wall and knocking the wind out of me as he picks up his pace. His eyes darken when I open mine and look at him, drunken lust written all over my face and with the pace he's drilling into me at I can't even pretend to hold back. 

I wrap my legs around his waist to tell him to keep going, my nails no doubt leaving red scratch marks on his back, in an unintentional response to the purple marks he had sucked into my skin. My neck, breasts and torso, covered in proof of the time and effort he put into worshiping every part of me. 

He rocks into me over and over again, the sound of him getting more and more vocal showing me that he's getting close as well, letting myself relax from trying to hold off my high as every little thing he's done has dragged me closer and closer to that edge. 

"S-so close" I choke out and he chuckles, kissing me before telling me to let go. "Go ahead, show me how pretty you look when you cum" he taunts and at that I'm soaring, moaning his name over and over, unintelligible words accompanying it making him drill into me harder, the knowledge of him fucking me dumb driving him wild. 

"Can't even remember your name can you Noona? Only thing in that pretty little head of yours is mine now" he growls and his hips stutter, leaving him biting onto my neck to muffle his voice as he cums inside me. 

He fucks himself though his high leaving me whining in overstimulation and he soon pulls out and looks at the mess we've made.

"So swollen" he says, playing with me and pushing his cum back inside. "Jungkook stop it hurts" I say pushing his hand away from me and he stops immediately and lays down on his back, pulling me on top of him as we catch our breaths. The only sounds in the room besides us being the clock that sits on the wall, time passing by and reminding me that if I don't play my cards right this could be the last time this happens. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after our breathing has calmed and we've been stuck in silence for what I'm sure might've been a little too long for him.

I hum in response, not really knowing how to feel. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his heart rate picking up audible to me with how he has me rested on his chest, letting me know he's scared he's done something wrong. "No Jungkook I'm fine I just..." I trail off and he sits up making me do the same  and I sit there with my head down, not knowing how to voice my emotions. 

"Do you regret it?" he asks, tilting my chin up so I can look him in the eye but once I do I can see vulnerability written all over his face, praying that I'll say no but knowing that even if I do there's a small part of me that might be saying yes. 

"No I don't regret it I just don't know how to feel. I never thought that I would be the kind of person who would cheat on my husband" I voice and he hums in response, making moves to get off the bed but I grip onto his wrist. 

"Where are you going?" I ask and he gives me a sad smile, "I was going to get you a towel so you can clean up. I thought you might want a second to think before we actually talked about this since I can already tell that you might feel like this wasn't the best decision" he says but when I open my mouth to say something I can't come up with anything to combat what he's said. 

He nods his head and guides my hand off of him, kissing the back of it before letting it go, my arm falling limp onto the bed while the thoughts of me hurting him plaguing me with even more guilt than the fact that I cheated. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to say to make this right.

He comes out of the bathroom that we had been in at the start of all of this with a warm towel that he uses on me after he guides me to lay back down, apologizing when he's pressed a little too hard, forgetting for a second how swollen I had gotten. 

He throws the towel in the laundry basket in the bathroom and comes back to the bed and sits next to me, running his fingers through my hair, no doubt trying to help me relax instead of stressing about all of the emotions I'm feeling flooding though my mind. 

"Should I go home?" he asks and my eyes widen, knowing for a fact now that I really have hurt him enough for him to want to leave. "No, please stay with me. I'm sorry I just don't know what's going on" I say truthfully and he nods, leaning down to kiss me but instead of on my lips this time he places one on my forehead, withholding a sense of intimacy that I might not want to continue to have with him. 

He asks me where some fresh sheets are and tells me to go to the bathroom and he'll have the bed ready again once I get back, giving me another opportunity to think things through. 

I cheated on my husband, a man that for as far as I know has been cheating on me for years and now I cheated on him. What I did though wasn't out of spite but the need to be with someone who truly cares about me. Someone I desire and desires me but not just my body. Someone who wants me mind, body and soul. Or at least I think he does. 

Do I really deserves someone like him? Someone so pure and kind and selfless when all I've caused him is pain and heartbreak. I knew that he was falling for me and I entertained him anyways because he was kind and young and handsome but I never intended for things to go this far. 

Am I happy that things turned out the way the they did? I don't know. Do I want to be with him? Yes. But I don't think he deserves to take on someone with so much baggage. He's still young and already has so much on his plate and I don't want to be the person who adds more onto it. 

Would it be wrong to be selfish for once? Would it be wrong to fall for a man that's fallen for me even with all my doubts and flaws and hesitations? I don't know the answer to that but I want to. God I want him more than I ever thought I could want someone. 

He's shown me what it feels like to be loved. Does he love me? I don't know but his actions have shown me he cares about me more than someone should care about a friend. More than a man should care about a woman who he hardly knows. 

"Noona" I hear accompanied by a soft knock on the other side of the bathroom door. "Is everything okay?" he asks, concern truly laced through his tone and I rush to finish up, needing to be with him. I answer with a hurried 'yes' and then once I leave the bathroom I make certain to show him that he's done nothing wrong. 

"I'm fine, I promise" I say, and chance a kiss to which he melts into, the tension he had once felt dissipating. "I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to feel after everything that happened between Tae and I before you showed up and then after he saw you and then with everything that happened between us it just hit me all at once" I say and he nods his head, grabbing my hand and leading me back towards the bed where we both sit down. 

"Are you okay?" I finally ask, remembering the fact that I have yet to check up on him but already knowing the answer since his body language betrays him whenever he's with me. "I'm just worried that you might not want to see me again after this" he says his eyes turned down, not being able to meet my gaze but I rush to deny his claims. 

"I would never say that. I'm sorry I worried you but I want you, not just physically but I want you to stay with me. Stay by my side" I say and his shoulders slump. "But you don't want to be with me" he says and I shake my head. "I want to be with you Jungkook I really do but I can't put a label on this..." I says and motion between the two of us, "until I figure out things with Taehyung" I finish and he lifts his head, needing to know exactly what I mean by that. 

"You're still gonna leave him right?" he asks and I give him a sad smile before nodding again, reassuring him that I meant what I said to him back there. "Yes I promise, I just have to see what my options are in terms of divorce and the possible need for a restraining order since I know what type of man Taehyung is. I'm just afraid that you might regret trying to be with someone like me" I trail off and his brows pinch together in confusion. 

"What do you mean someone like you?" he asks, clearly not seeing the bigger picture here. "Someone who has drama and is literally trying to get out of an abusive marriage and about to have a psycho ex husband that I know will be hanging around for God know's how long. I just don't want you to bite off more than you can chew" I say and he nods his head, understanding now that my hesitation hasn't been just regret or doubt but also concern for him. 

"Contrary to what you'd like to think Noona I know what I'm doing. I knew from the start what getting involved with a married woman might entail but I was up for it anyway because it was you. Call me young and dumb but I knew that I wanted to be with you from the first moment I saw you" he says, looking at me with the biggest, brightest eyes full of the purest form of puppy love that I truly hope will never fade.

"Okay" I say and grab his hand while he brings his other one up to cup my face and pulls me closer into a soft kiss. One that started off as a mere peck but has slowly turned into more, a fire being lit between us and as we inch closer and closer to the flame all I can do is pray that we won't turn to ashes once everything is said and done. 

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[writingquestionsanswered]

When I write I find myself simply narrating things that are happening, i.e. this person said this, they went there, they did this, with descriptions of places sprinkled in.. exactly like a movie. How do I stop doing this and narrate a story for a book and not a movie? What is the difference between writing down everything that happens in a movie (that plays in your head) vs. writing a novel?

Thank you

"Laundry List Narration" vs Exposition

First, I want to say the ability to see a story play like a movie in your mind can be a helpful one, but I do think it can also be a pitfall for what is sometimes called "laundry list narration," where instead of a balance of exposition, action, and dialogue, the story becomes a long list of items (aka a "laundry list") of what people are doing, thinking, and saying. I'm going to take the first paragraph of The Hunger Games and turn it into laundry list narration so you can see what it looks like:

I wake up. The other side of the bed is cold. There is only the rough canvas cover of the mattress where Prim's warmth should be. Prim must have had bad dreams. She probably climbed into bed with our mother. Today is reaping day.

(*** Again, that is not the actual first paragraph of The Hunger Games. I have re-written them to a "laundry list" style.)

Each sentence could be its own line item:

-- I wake up. -- The other side of the bed is cold. -- There is only the rough canvas mattress cover where Prim's warmth should be. -- Prim must have had bad dreams. -- She probably climbed into bed with our mother. -- Today is reaping day.

It really does feel like an observer translating what's happening for someone who can't see it. There's no emotion, no action, no dialogue. It's austere and staccato, like a robot telling a story.

The sentences in laundry list narration usually begin in one of the following ways:

-- pronouns (he/she/they/I/we) -- names -- articles (a, an, the) -- time adverbs like today, tomorrow, yesterday, now, suddenly -- place adverbs like there, nearby, inside, outside, upstairs, downstairs

Laundry list narration also tends to "tell" rather than "show"...

Telling: Sally was mad.

Showing: Sally's nostrils flared as she clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.

Now, let's look at how the first paragraph of The Hunger Games is actually written:

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

It's much harder to put that into individual line items because it all flows together. It's not a staccato list of things happening. There is some telling (the other side of the bed is cold), but showing, too (my fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth, but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress.) There's thought and emotion (Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.) There's no dialogue, but there's action (my fingers stretch out...)

Unfortunately, there's not a quick fix to this in your writing. It's just something you need to be aware of as you write and try to avoid doing it. Also: keep it in mind as you edit so you can revise.

Remember to lean on showing vs telling when possible (unless it makes more sense to "tell" which it sometimes does.) And also remember to maintain a relative balance of exposition (explaining, describing things), action (things happening), and dialogue (people talking.)

You can have a look at my Description master list of posts for further help on these topics.

Happy writing!

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[rinbylin]

re: jianghu as a queer space in mlc

here to answer @redemption-revenge !! in reply to this post

(also tagging @markiafc @ananeiah <3)

there are many definitions of jianghu, but this is specifically based on the framing of jianghu as the space people retreat to, away from the mainstream sphere governed by the imperial court. in that is a sense of rejection and defiance against the patriarchal, heteronormative values and norms, which had been enforced through a fixation on upkeeping order in the society. as such i guess it's not too much of a stretch to interpret jianghu as a queer space in a way that's characterised by a spirit of nonconformity to the norms. consequently, it makes sense for stories set in jianghu be used to illustrate and navigate queer identities/experiences/feelings - which I came to believe mlc had made really good use of.

there's always kind of a dichotomy between 江湖 jianghu and 庙堂 miaotang (ie. imperial court). like in mlc, there are two separate, distinct law enforcement bodies from the respective spheres - and jianghu strives to keep imperial court from interfering in their affairs. like how li xiangyi firmly stands against getting imperial court involved in jianghu matters. like how fang duobing is actively running away from the grip of the royal court on his life choices. the rejection of the mainstream (very conveniently and broadly put, confucian) norms in mlc also manifests in many of its key relationships being non-familial (in the sense of blood/marriage-based kinship) and there being little emphasis on the main characters' biological familial ties. (anyway this is for a whole different meta on its own... edit: it's here)

it's then actually a sort of irony that the imperial court's institution of law and order is what sigu sect/baichuan court had been formed to be a de facto counterpart to. so when li xiangyi becomes li lianhua, it triggered the process of deconstructing the meaning of installing such an institution and the need to maintain order to a fundamentally nonconforming space such as jianghu. mama fang's seemingly throwaway line of criticising li xiangyi and his mission is in fact the thesis statement in this particular reading of mlc's story: jianghu makes its own rules. nobody should dare to do it in its place.

now deprived of all means to fight like he used to, li xiangyi's new life as li lianhua is essentially a refresh of how he views jianghu. the death of li xiangyi the leader of sigu sect and top of wulin, meant taking apart the idea that jianghu is a lawless arena where the fittest fight to the top for power and control over wulin. and li lianhua then putting together lotus tower, living a life focusing on a domestic lifestyle this time for real far from the reach of the governance both from the imperial court and sigu sect/baichuan court, is him living the jianghu that's defined as a space away from any form of conformity.

with that, there's also a sense of queerness to this particular way of living as li lianhua, if you consider the chinese conceptualisation of gender being more social than biological. if femininity and masculinity were respectively characterised by inner/domestic sphere and external/any space outside of that, dare I say...it actually makes li lianhua's moving house mindblowingly smart as a metaphor for gender fluidity. lonely wanderers are common in wuxia but housed lonely wanderers? he carved for himself a domestic (ie. feminine) space in the wilderness - among a jianghu space that's still dominated by masculine values of aggression and competition. and being freely mobile makes this feminine space more fluid and less tied down than the more rigid, inert domestic, feminine spaces in traditional mainstream society. when you combine it with how his character has been fem-coded - even as li xiangyi (eg. yin-coded powers/energy) (also a whole other meta on its own... edit: it's here now), it speaks to a part of him that has always found appeal in qualities conventionally associated with femininity of stability, gentleness and non-aggression. and a rejection of expectations to fight and destroy. he is defining who he is in his own terms, in the true spirit of jianghu.

[writtenonreceipts]

AO3 Link // Masterlist

A little Elorcan thing. I initially wrote this for sjmromanceweek way back in February but then went on my little hiatus instead. Just found it again and decided to finish it up with an edit.

Summary: After a winter storm blows through the city, Elide has to figure out the best way to get to work. Lucky for her, her boyfriend is a bit overprotective.

Warnings: none! ~1.5k words.

.*.*.*.*.*.

The Little Things

As it was—things could have been worse.  Maybe Elide shouldn’t look at things like that, always noticing all the ways life hadn’t yet screwed her over.  Instead, she tried to put a positive outlook on things.  But sometimes it couldn’t be helped to be a bit negative.  It was actually cathartic.

Today things just continued to pile on top of her.  She’d woken up late, even her back-up alarms failed to go off.  It left her to scramble out of bed at eight-fifteen and throw herself together.  She would pride herself on the fact that she still had time to shower and fix her make-up look somewhat like a normal human being.  Even if her hair was piled into a top knot and her foundation was on its last dregs.

However, she was forced to skip breakfast and only grab a granola bar for her lunch, and then wear a blouse that definitely had a stain on the left boob.  Because of course, of course, she hadn’t swapped her laundry to the dryer.  That was the thing about living alone—she had to remember to be responsible instead of waiting for someone to actually be an adult and hey, maybe finish your laundry.  Maybe she could use that as a reason to convince Lorcan to move in with her: live with me because I am a disaster human, thanks.

She’d work on it.

“It could be worse,” she told herself as she dumped creamer into her coffee. “It could still be worse.”

Which was when she saw the flurries of white between the kitchen window blinds.  Elide swept the blinds up and saw the mess of snow falling outside her apartment.  It was a near winter wonderland with the gray clouds and the heavy snowfall.  Near as Elide could tell a good four inches had already fallen, maybe more.

She groaned.  She hated winter.  She hated the cold and the ice and driving in the snow and she hated the fact that her work was full of people who apparently would rather die than miss work.

Her phone dinged from the counter but she ignored it.  She was already late and would have to hurry to get her car warmed up and scraped properly.  Besides, it was probably Lorcan.  He always texted with a good morning message or complaint about how much Terrasen traffic sucked.

She missed him.

They’d spent the entire weekend together and still: she missed him.

I’m clingy as hell, we should live together.

Not that much better on the delivery but it would get a smile out of him.

Elide cursed as she dumped her coffee into a thermos and shoved her granola bar into her purse.  Coffee counted as breakfast, didn’t it?

She opted for the elevator instead of the stairs, knowing her ankle would protest any overexertion.  The injury would never be the same no matter how much physical therapy she put into it.  So, Elide made the best of things only pushing herself when she thought she could or she knew she had plenty of time to rest.  But with the snow and certainty of ice, she was not going to take any chances.

The elevator slowly crept down the shaft, shaking as it went.  If anything, this building was going to kill her.  It could still get worse.

When she finally made it to the first floor, Elide braced herself for the inevitable.  Her tiny car would be covered by the snow.  And given that it was nearing on ten years old the heater would take forever to kick in.  

It wasn’t until she’d taken a few steps out into the fierce cold that Elide noticed it: the large black truck sitting in the lot and the mountain of a man leaning against the passenger side door.

As though sensing her, the man looked up from his phone.  He tucked the phone into his pocket and, so small that it was hardly there at all, a smile flashed across his features.  He was handsome in an unconventional way.  Dark and a bit harsh with the way a scar bit across his nose and another through his lower lip.  His black hair hung to his shoulders which didn’t help anything as it often cast dark shadows across his face.  But she didn’t mind it.  She didn’t mind any of it.

“What are you doing here?” she called out as she carefully picked her way through the snow towards him.  Flurries still fell from the sky, thick and heavy and promising this was just the beginning.

“It’s snowing,” he said, opening the passenger door as she got closer. “You hate the snow.  And your joke of a car can’t drive in this.”

Elide glared up at him as she came to a stop just before him. “My car is perfect, thank-you.”

Rolling his eyes, Lorcan pulled her bag from her shoulder and tossed it in the truck. “The heater is broken and it’s currently buried under half a foot of snow.”

She would have protested further, but Lorcan was already ushering her to the truck and boosting her into the giant machine, hands firm on her waist.  He afforded the opportunity to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Mother hen,” she said, even though he was already shutting the door and rounding the truck.

Elide had to admit, she loved his truck.  It was already warm and toasty inside and the seat warmer was going.  It smelled like leather and oil and Lorcan.  Even Elide wouldn’t have tried to give him fluffy car scents or fruity sprays to keep the clean scent.  Besides, she preferred this muskier scent, it made things feel like home.

It was then that she noticed the extra coffee in the cupholder and the breakfast sandwich on the dash.  She reached for the coffee first as Lorcan got into the driver's seat.

Lorcan smirked at her as she took a long sip of the coffee.  So much better than her home brew.  He’d gone to the shop her cousin owned if the note in silver sharpie was any indication.

Ornery Bastard

“Your coffee maker sucks,” he said, by way of explanation.  He shifted the car to gear and headed out of the parking lot. “Get some real food in your stomach.”

“Coffee is real food,” she said, though she did grab the sandwich before it went flying from the dash.  She took another long sip of coffee, the perfect balance of creamer to coffee, before taking a bite of the bacon and egg croissant.  “Mmmm.”

“You didn’t eat a real breakfast, did you?” Lorcan asked, though Elide knew he already knew the answer.

“Toast with butter,” Elide said.  She smiled sweetly at him before taking another bite.

“Mala above.” Lorcan shook his head even as another smile threatened to upturn the corner of his lips.

Humming happily, Elide settled into her seat.  The croissant was a perfect balance of buttery flakes and salty fat from the bacon, a small smear of chipotle sauce added a little kick that tied everything together perfectly.

“You didn’t have to pick me up, you know,” she told him after a minute. “I would have made it safe.”

Or relatively.  The roads did still look a mess of snow and poor attempts of salting.  But Elide was always careful in this sort of weather.  It might have taken a little extra time but she could have done it.

“I don’t mind,” Lorcan said.

Elide raised a brow. “You work on the other side of town.”

“It’s fine.”

“Cairn’s an ass.”

He snorted. “Like Cairn’ll even come in today.”

“Lorcan.”

“Elide.”

He fixed her with a long look when they came to a stop light.  His eyes, onyx black but still filled with light, bore into her.  Elide took another bite of sandwich.  She wasn’t mad at him, really.  Bemused, more like it.  And intrigued.  In the beginning, back when they’d hardly known each other and even into the early throws of their relationship, she’d had a difficult time reading him.  Over time, she’d gotten better.  And now it was simply funny to her to know that he cared.  Especially when everyone else just thought he was the cold, heartless bastard he appeared to be.

“Thank-you,” she said.  She’d never had anyone look out for her the way Lorcan had.  No one who put so much effort into making sure she had what she needed, that she was safe, that she even had a decent meal.  

And then he had to go and do something as simple as getting her coffee and a decent breakfast and she was an emotional mess.

Case in point: tears started to prick at the corners of her eyes.

Elide blinked quickly, not wanting them to fall.  Not that Lorcan would have said anything or judged her for it.

As the car moved forward when the light changed, Lorcan reached over and took Elide’s free hand in his.  He twined their fingers together before bringing the backs of her knuckles to his lips to press a kiss to her skin, the scruff of his unshaved beard scraping gently.

“I love you,” he said, as though that were explanation enough.

And maybe that’s what she would use as evidence in her case for moving in together.

I love you.

Because really it was as simple as that.

But she would wait a little while yet before bringing it up.  Driving during a snowstorm was chaotic enough and she still had an untamed flock of butterflies wreaking havoc in her gut.  So she only smiled fondly back and returned to her coffee.  

.*.*.*.*.

Going to be focusing on Rowaelin Month after this and finishing up an Elucien project! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this one!

[moricodex]

Something I noticed about Poison

*These two* This is a free transactional/thankful hand shake between two lovers who are abusers; Val is Overt & Vox is Covert.

(Please read what's above if you do not know what Overt/Covert means.) Note: These terms will be brought up again.

-Vox's face is smug, a sense of accomplishment residing in said smugness. - Additionally, he is gazing away from his lover to look towards Angels Bedroom.

-The, oh shit your up & walking face. (A massive tell tale sign someone feels caught; aka the victim or a bystander has seen the abuser in/after the act.) ^^^The drop of his heads posture/Widening of his eyes, mainly his hypnosis eye/His frown.^^^ (He uses his hypnosis eye for control) -Lil side note: The demon doing repair work, looks very uncomfortable, I think it's the only expression he makes. (This does not remove the fact that he has been drawn with a face of discomfort; engaging with apathy/sloth with a hint of sadness.)

-Vox is giving Val a gaze that speaks "are you going to keep things under control?" aka, Angel, the prized porn star. OR. You got this right? (simplified take) -Vals lip expression shows lack of enthusiasm plus lack of joy.

^^^Val uses this expression to show disapproval while asserting dominance. (A common tactic with abusers; both Overt & Covert abusers do this often as a means of utilizing fear. Because the victim knows they are upset & know what can happen when said abuser is upset.) + (Lowkey difference: Covert abusers are more carful about who is around to see/read that mentally abusive power move/Overt abusers usually thrive with an audience around.)

-This is the face of an abuser who has gotten away with it, through the aid of a lover. (It is not uncommon for SA abusers to share their victims/help other abusers SA individuals.) He knows that he got away with it, of course he did, they are top dog overlords who control minds & bodies through media influence. ^^^Vox gets away with keeping Angels truth a tucked away secret- (Him being raped via means of being drugged up in his own bedroom)-through Val; whom uses overt means of control, while Vox prefers his less tasteful habits be less known. Val makes sure what happened, stays unknown by others. ^^^Something something, birds of a feather or some crap^^^ (Match made in hell dead ass.)

*Reminder that this is Angels bedroom* -He's super disorientated, & has no idea what time it is & is most likely slowly processing what the actual fuck has happened. ^^^Recovering from being high out of his mind on cocaine & Vals Saliva/or the love potion made by Val & Velvet.^^^

-Background noise such as running water can allow some people to focus/calm down from a panic attack or both.

-He looks so hurt yet tired. (He's just sick of being so personally used as an object by genuine rapists.)

-It all comes back to him & hits him like a train. Edit note: I sent this post by mistake when it wasn't finished so I had to rush these last bits. (I can expand more on this in the future maybe) Last note: I wish we got a scene of Vox asking sex from Angel but that request is declined/ or invading Angels space. (Its very impactful but needs genuine breathing room outside of the music video.)

[cinderella-ish]

Let's Talk About Kyoru!

I shared a little while ago (in my first-ever analysis post!) that I don't really have a lot in common with Tohru or Kyo, and I didn't really "get" them or their relationship right away. Today, someone asked on Reddit "What are your personal thoughts on Kyou x Tohru?" and I wrote out a long comment explaining how I grew to love them. So, here's an expanded and edited version of that comment, edited for Tumblr!

I loved both Tohru and Kyo as characters from the start. How could I not? Kyo is an endlessly meme-able, over-the-top tsundere cat-boy with a heart of gold, and Tohru is a lovable, overly-giving people-pleaser who's also a total space cadet prone to some very funny mishaps (that are maybe a little less funny once you understand her character).

What I didn't see at first was how their romantic relationship was an essential part of both Tohru's and Kyo's character development. Their arcs couldn't really have ended any other way, with how Takaya-sensei set them up.

See, Tohru begins the series in denial about the reality of her mother's death and unable to ask for or accept help, even from those closest to her, and even when people offer their help or support up front. She risks her own health and even her life to avoid burdening others, likewise risking herself to protect her memory of her mother (represented by the framed photo).

And Kyo begins the series convinced defeating Yuki will erase his past "sins," or alleviate his guilt from both Kyoko's and his mother's deaths. It's a Sisyphean task and he knows it, but he keeps at it because it's better than the alternative (actually dealing with his trauma) and possibly because he thinks he deserves to suffer defeat after defeat. He's in an extremely fragile place, having just returned from his trip to the mountains, and he truly believes he only hurts the people he loves.

I also think there's some small part of Kyo that's fighting to keep going, even from the start of the series. It's a twisted way to go about living, but he is still trying to live. He has the possibility of a life outside the Cat's House, and he's working his ass off to try and achieve it, even if it's most likely impossible. To me, that's not a character who's given up or accepted his fate.

Similarly, I think there's a small part of Tohru that knows she'll eventually need to accept that her mother is dead and make the decisions that are best for herself. It's harder to see this inner desire in Tohru than in Kyo, but I think it becomes clear when she chooses to stay with the Sohmas rather than return to her grandfather's house. She believed, at that point, that her grandfather was the only person left who knew and loved her mother, yet she knew she would be happier continuing to live with Kyo, Yuki, and Shigure. With the encouragement of her grandfather (and with Kyo and Yuki's heroic rescue mission), she moves forward on the path that will make her happiest.

It took me really digging deep and understanding each of their individual arcs to love them as a couple as much as I do now.

On first pass, it was obvious to me how much Tohru meant to Kyo, and the ways she directly countered his extremely low self-esteem and overwhelming guilt. However, I didn't really understand what Tohru liked about Kyo in a romantic sense.

I think this was probably due to my own anxiousness around men who yell, which strongly put me off of Kyo as a romantic lead. I also didn't like how he promised to protect Tohru again at the end, but that was again due to my own hangups. I have a strong dislike of being "protected" by my romantic partners (it feels patronizing and usually is done without asking or considering my own feelings about being protected). But I'll come back to that.

We know from the start that Tohru tends to reject attempts to care for her, or simply makes sure no one will be in a position to offer that care to her. She doesn't ask to stay with either of her best friends and she doesn't remain with her family during the renovations.

And Kyo is the only person who not only recognizes when Tohru's diminishing her own needs, but he's also the only person who consistently makes sure she has the support she needs, even if she initially refuses it. He tells her it's okay to get angry, asks her to vent her frustrations to him, and reminds her it's okay to be selfish.

I think with anyone else, she would have burned herself out and cut off most of her uncomfortable emotions. Kyo takes care of Tohru, and that's what she needs, because Tohru Honda has very different needs than I do (and that's okay!).

Also, Kyo doesn't yell nearly as much after the first season, but something I realized while writing my series on Kyo and Momiji's relationship is that most of Kyo's yelling is him trying to protect her and the others he cares for (like Momiji). He yelled because he was terrified of hurting her again, or of letting her get hurt through inaction. He'd yell at her when she did something that could've gotten her hurt, or he'd yell at others when they did something that could hurt her. That poor boy was carrying so much guilt over Kyoko's death, he made it his entire personality to try and protect Tohru, including from himself.

At Kyoko's grave, when he promised to protect Tohru for life, I initially read that as a step backwards for him. Wasn't that just a recipe for more guilt? After all, he couldn't possibly protect her from everything. But after some reflection, I think that was him finally internalizing the lesson from that last fight with Yuki: he was protecting her all along by making her smile and being there for her. That's Kyo recognizing that his presence is good for Tohru, and it's a huge shift in how he sees himself and his own self-worth.

So that's really why Kyo and Tohru are so perfect together. Kyo needed someone to help him see his own worth, and Tohru did that simply by needing him. Meanwhile, Tohru needed to prioritize her own needs and happiness, and she did that by admitting how much she needed Kyo. It's a loop that feeds back into itself. The more they care for each other, the more they overcome their initial mistaken beliefs about themselves.

I once shared in response to an ask that I believe Tohru needed Kyo even more than he needed her. Thinking of how badly she was suffering during the hospital arc, when she thought he'd rejected her, and how much she repressed her heartbreak during that time, I think it would've destroyed her if he hadn't decided to try and move forward with her. It would've taken a long, long time before she would've been able to open up to anyone like that again, and she may not have been able to ever again, given how hard it was for her to admit her feelings for Kyo in the first place.

So, I love them. Took me a while, but I'm fully aboard the Kyoru train now.

[coolingrosa]

Survivors guilt within yourself (Online edition)

This may be TMI and too much dumping bout my life, but I think it’s important to talk about, especially with so many young artists looking to make it big online.

I have this weird feeling towards stepping away from the internet.

I’m not saying this is me leaving, as I never want to stop making content. However, I have definitely drifted from the online life style including discord conversations, tiktok drama, constant YouTube posts, etc.

Why? Well, I want to make a YouTube video about this one day, but to boil it down: The internet was my coping mechanism for many years.

Now that I’m out of my abusive household, I can actually STATE now publicly how I was living in a mentally and physically abusive environment for all my eighteen years of existing. Just to brush the top of it as I won’t dive too deep (that’s for a future YouTube video), but I want to give some context as to what I was dealing with: I lived in a household where my brother was a diagnosed sociopath, my father was a narcissist, and the family members around were passive to the abuse my sister, brother, and I faced. These disorders do NOT automatically make you a bad person, evident by how though my brother was not a good role model and was disruptive to my development, he was a better father figure to me than my own father and shielded my sister and I from the brunt of the abuse for many years until he moved out. However, my father is a substance abuser as well, as with this disorder, such things do not mix well. I will not go any further about the abuse besides the fact that I draw my sona with body scars for a reason. They were not self inflicted and never were, even though some assume they are. Anyone in similar environments knows how desperate you are to find a way out. My way out was online. From the ages of eleven to seventeen, I became cripplingly dependent on online life. All my friends were online. I consumed content daily to distract from my life outside my room. All was okay and stable for a bit until I began posting at fourteen.

At first, posting was very simple. I’d come home from school and draw something quick and send it on its way. However, as time went on, the attachment to online life- to my online persona- became addictive. I began posting everyday. My only focus and drawing attempts were at tiktoks or YouTube videos. I became so absorbed with likes and comments and creating content that I began to slip away from the small number of real life friends I had, until I blinked and realized that they were all gone.

I was sixteen when this hit, and it only pushed me to get more absorbed into my content, especially when I got back into Undertale.

The worst times in my life were covered up by spam posting on my TikTok- five videos in one day that hid the pain and suffering I was trying to bury. All my friends became online, and I preferred being called Rosa than my real name. I was addicted. I could never be seen without a device to draw on, to post on, or to talk on. If I didn’t have a device, I was forced to confront the reality of my living situation, and I didn’t want to do that.

This began crumbling, though, when my online life began to feel unsafe as well. Many things happened at once that made it terrifying to even look at my phone. The turmoil from losing this safe space I had spent years indulging in was soul crushing, and though it sounds silly to be so upset over losing the comfort of the internet, it was life shattering. It forced me to confront everything I had been ignoring. It forced me to be alive.

Now that I’m in college, I’ve been offline a lot, and the weird sense of survivor guilt I have towards my fifteen year old self is strange. It feels like that young girl is inside me and angry at me for leaving behind a old comfort of mine- something that was so dear- something that defined who I was and for a very long time was the only thing keeping me here.

I survived. And I have other ways to cope. And the guilt of finding those things and people is strong. But I’m happy that I found it. Though fifteen year old me is angry, I’m happy.

So…why do I say all this? Why pour my heart out after stating that my closeness to online life is what made me blind to my real life?

Because I know there are people out there who were or are thinking like me.

Building a platform for yourself is an incredible feat, and I’m forever grateful for all my followers and supporters, but creating my account is also my biggest regret. I want to say to young creators starting out to find a balance. Don’t let the numbers define you. Don’t let who you are online dictate who you are in real life. Don’t forget there even IS a real life. What happens online is minuscule to the joys of going outside and breathing in the air. Seeing the trees sway in the breeze. Though being online can be an escape, it can also be a trap. Don’t fall too deep, because when your able to swim out to safety in the future, it’ll be harder to breach the surface.

So, if I don’t post as often- if I don’t reply to comments or dms as often- it’s not me leaving or being hateful. I’m finally living. I’m breathing and allowing myself to crawl out of the rut I’ve been rotting in for years now. I’m finally alive.

So for me, take a walk outside today without your phone. Remember what it’s like to be human. It sounds silly, but I think many of us forget what it’s like to live as we did as kids. Before the internet was popularized, and walking down the street of your neighborhood was just another Saturday afternoon.

[whatusername00]

Which Baldur's Gate Characters Know How To Lace Up Their Clothing - Tiefling Edition

Or, Part 2. Honestly didn't expect my earlier post to be so popular, but I enjoyed doing it and enjoyed taking the screenshots for this one too. Honestly I intend to continue doing this regardless of how popular it is because I need to know.

I went through all the tieflings at the Emerald Grove, so if someone's not listed here it's probably because they just don't have anything that laces shut. I don't think I missed anyone.

Starting with Zevlor. Honestly I'm not even sure this is actually lacing rather than decoration. If it is laced, it's the only spiral lacing I've seen so far, but's its so miniscule I'm not totally sure. There are other instances of this same pattern that definitely are decoration, but this is the only one that looks like it goes over two pieces, so I'm convincing myself it's actually laced. I give it a 8/10. Perfect execution, but so small I don't know why it's there at all.

So Alfira, Lia, and Rechel all where the same corset with slightly different colors, so I'll just judge them all at once. Something I've noticed is that Larian rarely shoes the knot where these characters tie off their lacing, which really bugs me. It especially bugs be here, since corsets are one of my favorite things to make. But, the corset (both the front and the sides) have a horizontal lace at the top and bottom, which is accurate and not seen on a lot of the lacing in game where it should be, even if it is missing a knot. Lia and Rechel get a 9/10, and Alfira gets a 9.1/10 because I like the purple lacing.

Zorru and Lakrissa both have this sleeve lacing. One of the very few instances of knots being shown! Unfortunately, it's not laced properly. They do the same thing Astarion does - one eyelet in a pair is laced from the outside, and the other is laced from the inside. For cross-lacing, they should match. Also, I think this is two separate pieces of lacing instead of one long piece, which bugs me, but there are clearly two knots which is nice. 7/10.

As far as his front closure goes, it's nice! Honestly I'm a little bored of the cross-lacing at this point, but I guess that's just the style at this point in time. The lacing is consistent, which is something some of our companions couldn't do. 10/10.

As far as his shoulders go, I don't know how I feel about it. It's a bunch of different pieces of lacing, which means a bunch of different knots to tie. Definitely tied everything together once and never bothers with it again. Which, same. I do that with my shoes. 8/10 at least cut the ends to be the same length dude.

Bex's shirt is the same as Tav's starting outfit. Her skirt, however, has...this on the back. We're going to ignore her tail phasing through the top two crosses. At first, I hated the design, because why do you need a skirt that's split down the back. Honestly, the only thing that would be needed to sell this design to be would be to get rid of the top two crosses that I can obviously see, then it would make sense, because of the tail. But then why don't you just sew the skirt together from there down instead of lacing it? It already ties in the front. I guess I still hate the design.

But I digress. I'm arbitrarily judging the actual lacing job, not the skirt design. 8/10 there's no knot.

Toron is cursed with the lack of knots. I'm also fairly certain this is 3 separate laces, because I don't think this pattern is possible with one lace. If it's not knotted and the ends are just hanging down on the inside of his overshirt, I can only imagine how annoying it is. Honestly like 3/10 I hate looking at it.

Asharak, Danis, and Kanon (and Blurg, but he's not here) have the same outfit. And the way this is laced is not physically possible without fastening the lacing into place with sewing or glue or something. The lacing goes in and back out of the same eyelet on each cross, which would just pull the lacing out. Also, once again, not ends, no knots. 0/10 not physically possible.

Listen. This lacing is kind of atrocious. And given the circumstances (orphan, child) I'm willing to forgive him. However, that top right eyelet. He laced it in and back out of the same eyelet. Can't do that. At least 2 eyelets are missing. And I was having a hard time actually following the lacing so I pulled out a corset to try and follow - that lacing is not possible. The 4th eyelet from the top on the left has too many lines going to it. So, sorry Mattis, but 0/10. Meli also wears this top, btw.

Mirkon wears the same overshirt that Yenna does. So someone taught him how to lace his shirt properly. Didn't really help him with the harpies, but at least he looked put together while being lured. 10/10.

Arabella and Zaki wear the same outfit. And there no knot. Can you believe it? No knotting your lacing, in this game? Never seen before. It also seems to have the opposite issue and Asharak, Danis, and Kanon. Her lacing seems to go in and back out of the same eyelet, but instead of coming from the top, it comes from the bottom. Regardless, same issue, 0/10 not possible.

Locke and Umi wear the same outfit that Tav wears by default, except Locke's pants button instead of tie. That means the notes are about the same. They know how to lace, yay. Though they switch the lacing on the final cross, it has purpose - to keep the ends of the lacing on the outside (though it still sticks out.) 9/10.

And I think that's all the tieflings. And wow is it a lot. If you want to see this same thing for other characters, I'll link them below.

Camp Characters

[bloodmoonmuses]

the weatherman's weathered heart | mark lee

genre: weatherman! mark lee x reader, enemies to lovers, slowburn-ish

[previous chapter] [series masterlist]

chapter two: the shirt

You resent letting your sense of justice prevail as you slither into Mark’s junky ass Prius. It’s cluttered with files and binders in addition to textbooks that are strewn haphazardly across the backseat. Most of the books are about meteorology, but you spot a music theory textbook as well.  

You sit quietly in the passenger seat, fiddling with your hands. Despite having a driving license, you don’t have a car of your own, resulting in you usually catching a ride with Hongjoong when needed. To be honest, you don’t really have many friends outside of Hongjoong. Perhaps you need to get out more- you’ve forgotten how to socialize. The awkward atmosphere is suffocating.

For a bit, you contemplate calling the whole thing off. Maybe this wasn’t necessary. Maybe you could be a nice person for the sake of being nice, instead of extorting the man for a shirt.

Then, you glance at your top, the coffee stain staring back at you angrily. It was a gift from Hongjoong, actually- a silk blouse he had thrifted in Japan. You wear it so often, it’s worn at the seams. It was due for a replacement anyway. Now you could do so on someone else’s dime.

At last, Mark breaks the silence. “What store do you wanna go to?” he asks. Since it’s thrifted, you’re not even sure where your blouse is from, nor do you know where to get something similar.

“Could you, um, check the brand on my tag?” you ask.

Mark gives you a look. It’s a mostly neutral one, but there’s something in his eye as he puts his phone down to fulfill your request. “Here,” he says, “turn around.” 

You do as you’re told and Mark places his fingers on the collar of your top, flipping it outward to read the tag. Briefly, his fingertips make contact with your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You hope he doesn’t notice you shudder.

“It says…Banana Republic. I think there’s one across town.” When Mark pulls away from you, you instantly miss his warmth. The feeling of loss settles in your gut, the ache extending to your tender fingertips. 

You’re touch-starved. And it’s cold out. (-is what you tell yourself to justify your yearning body.  Shaking the thoughts away, you put on your seatbelt. 

Mark puts the address into a navigation app and drives away from the printing shop. When you’ve been riding for a few (silent) minutes, you get a text from Hongjoong:

HJ (derogatory): [Spotify Link] “Make His Pockets Hurt” by Lil Kayla. Listen Now!

You: [eye roll emoji]

HJ (derogatory): u know what to do.

You roll your eyes, in real life this time, stifling a laugh. Mark eyes you in the rearview mirror. 

“What’s so funny?” he says, pouting for being left out of the joke. Cute. 

“Nothing!” you say. You close out of Hongjoong’s message, putting your phone back in your purse. 

The Banana Republic you arrive at is desolate. There’s an old lady at the cashier, who genuinely looks like she’s on the brink of death- respectfully. You and Mark linger around the front entrance, unsure of how to proceed.

You glance at him. “Should I… grab a few things and try them on?”

“I don’t care. As long as I can get that paper edited,” he retorts, aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Not cute. 

“Suit yourself.” You begin to peruse the blouse section, picking up a few beige ones. One has a ruffle at the neck, one has a bow and the final one has puffy sleeves. As you gather options, Mark takes a seat in the waiting area outside of the dressing rooms.

“Okay, gonna try these on,” you tell him, gesturing with your head. Mark waves you off wordlessly, promptly returning to his phone.

You end up liking the blouse with the bow the most. It’s a little cuter than your usual style, but you wanted to try something new. When you walk out of the dressing room with the top, Mark looks at you incredulously. 

“You’re getting that?” he says.

“Well, what would you suggest, Mark?” You’re a bit agitated. You wanted this to be an in-and-out situation, not a day-long ordeal. Also, what’s wrong with the bow blouse? It’s nice!

Mark looks you over, again, then glances at the blouse as if it had cursed his mother. “Anything but that.”

Now you’re the one pouting. “I don’t really care about your opinion. So.”

“I’m not paying for that hideous thing,” Mark states, crossing his arms with finality. 

You sigh, attempting to make your voice sound less annoyed. “That takes me back to my previous question. What would you suggest?” 

Mark looks around. “Gimme a sec.”

Before you know it, Mark is heading towards the blouses, scanning the selection. Instead of all beige, Mark picks up an array of tops in jewel tones. He looks at you, then the tops, then you again, deciding to put down a maroon top.

“Too flashy.” He simply says. Mark shoves the pile of tops into your arms, jutting his head towards the dressing rooms. “Are you gonna try these on or what?” 

So pushy, you think, but you do as you’re told. This time, you walk out each time you try on a new top, Mark giving feedback on each option.

The plum top ages you, Mark says. The golden blouse is cut too similarly to the despised bow top, and the lighter green top is too fluorescent. It isn’t until you walk out in an emerald blouse with a v-neckline, that Mark’s critiques come to a halt.

“What? This one’s hideous too?” you say. You swear you see his eyes flick downwards for a half a second. Your face gets hot.

Mark coughs. “It’s fine, I guess.”

You roll your eyes. “Then let’s get it. I guess. Need to get back to the shop anyway.”

After changing out of the shirt, you walk up to the register behind Mark. Maybe you’re overly frugal, but sixty dollars for a piece of fabric is insane to you. Hongjoong will be happy, at least. Though, the top looks nothing like the one he got you. 

As she’s ringing him up, the lady behind the register looks at you and Mark. “Buying this blouse for your partner here, I assume?” Then she turns to you. “This color is gonna look lovely on you.” 

Mark scrunches his nose. “Not my partner,” he quickly amends. “We’re… uh.. acquaintances.”

With that, the two of you exit the store.

The car ride back to the printing shop is even more awkward than the ride out. You feel bad for practically blackmailing the guy, especially considering there was no guarantee the newspaper would edit the article. Speaking of which-

“So if it isn’t tax fraud, what did you do?” you say without really thinking. The curiosity was killing you. You expect Mark to brush you off immediately, but he answers promptly.

“Huh? Oh, you mean the article.” He turns into the parking lot, switching off the ignition. You look at Mark, expecting him to exit the car, but he sits. For a moment, he’s lost in thought, eyes far away from the small space you share. 

“Hey, I’m just kidding-” 

“I’m-” Mark cuts you off, “divorced… and the journalist included my ex wife’s name. It read more like a tabloid than a genuine interview. I was just expecting something more… earnest. Not sure why,” he admits. 

You’re not exactly sure how to respond to this. If anything, you’re fascinated. Mark looks so young, no older than 25. 

He’s fallen in love, gotten married and divorced in that time? It must’ve been a pretty bad fall out- he can barely get the word “divorce” out of his mouth. Plus, the lengths he’s willingly to go to to have this article axed is evidence enough of the hurt. This wound is fresh. And that “journalist” is an asshole. 

“Don’t do that,” Mark says, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Do what?” 

“Pity me,” Mark says. “Don’t pity me.” 

“I don’t pity you,” you huff. “This whole situation sucks. I’m really sorry.”

Mark chuckles. “Don’t be sorry either.”

“Sorry- I mean, okay.” 

A beat passes, during which neither of you say anything, and Mark shifts to look at you. For real this time. Not through a mirror.

“Do you think they’ll change the article?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

Probably not, you think. But for his sake, to rid his eyes of the pain glistening in them, you hope to god those assholes at the newspaper get rid of that part as requested.

“Yeah. Of course.” You exit the car, shoulders tense with anxiety.

Hongjoong is at the front counter, sketching in a notepad, when you and Mark walk into the printing shop.

“Have fun?” Hongjoong inquires.

“Not really,” you say, placing your shopping bag on the counter. 

Hongjoong inspects its contents, humming in approval of the blouse. “Not bad,” he says.

Mark scoffs. “Should I take down your number?” he asks you.

“Yeah, probably.” You write it down and hand it over. “I’ll shoot you a text when I hear back from the newspaper goons.”

Mark laughs at this and leaves. The yearning in your gut returns. 

When it’s time to close up the shop, Honjoong packs up his things with record speed. Slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder, he says, “Wanna come over for drinks?” 

“Yeah, I’ll take a cab to your place. Gotta make a phone call real quick.” you reply.

“It’s okay, I’ll wait for you,” Hongjoong contests.

“Don’t wanna hold you up. Get outta here, nerd.”  You wave your hand at him, shooing him off. 

Hongjoong lingers in the entryway regardless, shooting daggers with his eyes. “You and your secrets…” he says.

“Secret? What secret?” You quirk an eyebrow, feeling sheepishly defensive. 

“Save it. I’ll let it slide this time,” Hongjoong states. “My place in thirty?”

You nod.

“Cool.” He lights a cigarette on his way out.

With Hongjoong now gone, you take out your phone and call the newspaper office. You’ve been printing for Jackson for years now, so you’re sure he can make an exception this one time- even if a little schmoozing is necessary. You put on your kiss-ass voice, hyping yourself up as the phone rings.

“Hey, Jackson! It’s _____ at Jagerman Printing Co.! Yes… Um, we actually had a power outage here. That, coupled with the order screw-up by the intern… we’re swamped over here... Just scrap the whole thing? Oh, it’ll be fine. Yeah, of course! I’ll take a bit off of next week's orders. And I know your daughter’s birthday party is coming up, so consider her invitations on the house. Sounds good! Thanks!” 

When you hang up the phone, you sigh. Canceling a whole week of orders for a guy you just met… It wasn’t exactly logically sound. You’ll have to open commissions to account for the dip in income- extra work you can take up without Hongjoong knowing. Without Mark knowing.

Kindness for the sake of being kind. Before you head out to meet up with Hongjoong, you text Mark:

You: the newspaper goons had a change of heart. have a nice night :) 

Early the next morning, you beat Hongjoong to the printing shop. You watch the sunrise from your desk, its light flooding the room with a golden sheen. Briefly, you think about your actions from the night before. Surely you were out of your mind. Canceling a week’s worth of printing for some smarmy weatherman? It’s ridiculous. 

Well, it’s too late now. It’s not like Hongjoong would care. He’ll be happy to hear the lack of work necessary on a Friday. He’s probably hungover from last night anyway. The door swings open.

You expect to see Joong, but when you lift your head, it’s Mark. You walk to meet him at the front of the shop. He’s not in a suit today. Instead, he looks way more his age. He’s in a band tee and jeans. Perhaps this was what his fashion advice was founded on. It’s a stark difference from his weatherman get-up. Mark is also holding a bouquet of flowers.

He places the flowers on the counter delicately, beaming at you. “For the shop,” he states. You make a mental note to buy a vase for them.

Mark’s smile is absolutely blinding. You look away like someone just waved a flashlight directly into your eyes.

“I don’t know what you did- or if you did anything, but I just wanna say thank you,” Mark says. 

What a change in tune for someone who literally spilled coffee on you without a second glance just a day ago. Maybe this weatherman isn’t so bad after all. 

“Um, I didn’t really do much, in all honesty, but I’m glad everything worked out.” you respond.

You’re not sure why you felt the need to lie. Actually, you know exactly why. You’re too prideful. 

“Well, thank you anyway. I could literally cry,” he retorts with a chuckle.

“Please don’t,” you say jokingly. 

Mark thinks for a moment. “How can I repay you?”

“Like I said, I didn’t do anything. And you already got me this shirt.” You gesture to the emerald top from yesterday.

If you knew he’d be here today, you wouldn’t have worn it. However, as you were getting dressed this morning, you couldn't stop thinking about the way your stomach ached when Mark looked at you yesterday.

“What about I treat you to dinner?” asks Mark. “So we’ll be even.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You didn’t intend on him feeling indebted to you.

“Okay, “ Mark pivots, “Can we grab drinks instead? I’ll pay. Tomorrow 6pm.”

“With all of your weatherman money?” you joke.

Mark’s phone rings.

“I’ll text you,” says Mark. When he answers the call, he continues mouthing to you as the person on the other end of the line begins to speak. “Text me back.”

“No promises,” you mouth back.

As Mark exits the shop, Hongjoong enters. He does a double take at Mark, then looks at you inquisitively. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you say as a blush creeps up your neck.

a/n: unedited and feedback is always appreciated! <3

[ruhua-langblr]

how does duolingo suck?

I'm going to assume this is a genuine question in good faith!

In general, I do not think that DL is effective for achieving linguistic fluency. However, fluency is not everything and is not everyone's end goal! It can be a great introduction to many languages and get people fired up about starting to learn a new language—all which are good things. Before I address the recent problematic changes to the app that make it "suck", I want to be clear that even before it really wasn't that great. It had a good UI, constant expansion, and a very enthusiastic marketing team, but none of those are really important to actual language learning. Outside of popular European languages (Spanish/French/German) the quality is incredibly hit or miss. When I started learning Chinese I checked out DL and it was just not good! It's pretty common knowledge that DL is not good for learning non-latin based languages. Not to mention that the levels in those languages do not get you far. I was able to do speed runs of the Chinese course for fun early on in learning Chinese because it tops out at about HSK 3. (If you're unfamiliar with the HSK system, real Chinese "fluency" is HSK 6+ depending on if you're going by HSK 3.0 or not.)

The reason the post I made took off now is a combination of profit-driven decisions made by DL in the past year, culminating with laying off actual translators—a field I happen to be in!

The major decisions I'm referring to above are the following:

The "pausing" of the Welsh course and ending the partnership with the Welsh government. The National Centre for Learning Welsh did wish to continue the partnership, stating "Should Duolingo change its policy the centre would be happy to help with the work of developing the Welsh course,". Languages that offer business partnerships, like High Valyrian, don't get paused.

Removal of Forums and Sentence Discussions. Because DL never truly "teaches" you grammar, you are expected to pick it up from pattern association and repetition. This would work fine if languages weren't complex and notorious for having exceptions. These spaces were places for people to better understand the language, but that's not a profitable thing! It's more profitable to charge people to have an AI "explain" a sentence. Also people liked DL for the community aspects! Native speakers could answer your questions and you could joke about how wacky a sentence was.

Final nail in the coffin:

Pivot to AI and laying off translators. For the record, I don't think AI is innately evil. I think in moderation it can be helpful and if an app's upgraded tier is just AI chat then whatever. However, as a translator, I can tell you that it just doesn't work well. Having done post-editing of AI translations, it just sucks. It makes mistakes humans would never make and trying to unravel them is a pain. When I edit a human's translation, I can figure out what they were thinking and how they got it from the text. AI translations frequently just... skip parts that don't make sense to it. DL had already integrated AI into the app on a premium content basis, but now it's fully hit users that never asked for it. I've seen a lot of people talking about how their language is having mistakes now. People want to use DL to learn a language, and if the app is teaching them the language wrong that is a huge problem. It is unlikely that DL will be satisfied with this, but rather continue to replace as much of its workforce as possible with AI.

In short: Duolingo's first priority is bringing profits and shiny objects like AI to dangle in front of its shareholders. That is what makes Duolingo suck.

[rose-tinting]

the amount of misinformation that has been circling outside of neopets circles I swear

I see a new rumor every time

“They’re free from nft bros” Nope. Owned by one!

“The original team rebought them” God fucking no and you should not want them to, Adam Powells little meltdown over neopets users criticizing his new crypto venture is reason enough lol.

“The company was sold to Neopets Internal Teams” They sold it to the guy who used to head the former NFT project and are promising this means TNT has more freedom “under new leadership“ with “no current plans for crypto/NFTs” (This is not a promise not to make them)

One of the “brand ambassadors” who is supposed to help TNT with the knowing and understanding the userbase is some celebrity who’s wife is also a celebrity who I’ve seen people CLAIM used to be a Neopets mod. Does that sound like a neopets user who can tell the neopets team what the average user wants? No call for users who aren’t celebrities to become brand ambassadors has been made afaik.

Current Neopets mods are silencing trans people for mentioning HRT as well as top surgery and ignoring cis people talking about pregnancy, death, and surgery. (Have seen these boards go on for several hours and never get deleted even after a heated debate on one one about abortion) 

There’s items and backstory on the site that are racist. Neopets users have asked these be addressed. Do you think this “brand ambassador” will address any of that? Why does the ambassador need to be a celebrity? Unless the actual intent is to have “ambassadors” who sell neopets as a brand to the potential new userbase and isn’t about “listening to the users” at all.

god can one person with a huge following please for once just reblog and acknowledge the TRUTH. (doesn’t have to be from me I’d just like the actual info to be spread!) Awareness will help us keep the worst from happening! Pretending everything is fine until it isn’t is NOT the way!

If you want the actual info on the site Neopets has a fansite dedicated to reporting Neopets news including everything TNT tries to sweep under the rug

https://www.jellyneo.net/?comments=14391

A direct quote from their article on this

“ New CEO of Neopets is Dominic Law, who previously headed the Neopets Metaverse and brokered a "management buyout deal" “

Please if you’re reading this

stop spreading misinformation

spread the real information

make your own post even

this could go either way right now

this is not a “neopets renaissance”

this is a crossroads and we don’t know where we’re going yet. It could be great, or it could be the end of the site.

(Editing my reblog in so it can hopefully get seen too, I was provided with more accurate info on the brand ambassador.)

@pirakeet Thanks! Was actually hoping someone COULD correct this :3 Cause I was REALLY HOPING it wasn’t what it seemed since all I could find was a twitter post with an attached video where he accepts it (I immediately fled twitter may be why)

[Image Text ID]  Posted by tumblr user pirakeet: I’m not correcting anything, but just letting you know the “brand  ambassador” program has been made available - just presumably not in  the ‘john legend’ sense:  https://portal.neopets.com/brand-ambassador-program  and for clarity, i’ve been popping off about the difference, this isn’t a  “gotcha moment”.   There’s more info when you click “apply” and it takes you to a google  doc [End Id]

As I said I’m more interested in the truth being spread so I hope this can be seen!

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

Sugar threads

Summery:

With mumbo being far too tall, and far too skinny for any human, almost all of his clothes have to be hand made, with lots of love and care, to fit him. And who better then the local tailor, of which he is dating, who has quite a lot of love to spare for the redstoner?

No Tigger warnings!!

Not proof read or edited!!

(This is for an event by the name of @redscapeweek!! Day 4. Tailor/sharing clothes/vintage!!)

Mumbo had requested something he had never yet asked for. A dress. Now, scar is over the moon!! Thoughts fill his mind at every corner, ideas, designs, fabrics, all the sorts. Accessories and more.

The tall man himself had requested a blazer like top, and a skirt that went down just a little bit past his knees. And scar had fallen in love with the idea in seconds. A loud clicking sound leaving him in excitement, quickly rolling off to grab his sketchbook and look at fabric, mumbo following with a huff of noise.

"I- I wasn't even done talking!!" He laughed out, shaking his head as he bent down to fit through the doorway. Light streaming in through large windows overgrown with all sort of forestry. Rolls of fabric covering walls with a large simple desk in the middle. Sewing equipment thoroughly covering the desk. A large sewing machine on the left side. 

"Well I gotta be ready!! Mister mumbo, inspiration hit, and I can only help but follow its lead!!" He laughs lightly as he comes to a stop at his table, reaching for his notebook, he practically throws it open, jotting down the small amout of notes he already has. Clicking his tounge as he turns the page.

Mumbo leans slightly over his shoulder, fiddling with his hands as scar starts with a sketch.

"do you want it flowy or skin tight..?" He trails off a little, looking up at mumbo with eyes that seem to hold every possibility, every thought, everything. The way the brown eyes stay wide and scar grin at mumbo, has mumbos knees weak, and his heart soar. 

"I uh. The, the top I would like skin tight? The blazer? But, the actual dress part I uh, flowy? If that makes sense?" He asks with a bit of hesitance, an awkward smile on his own face.

Scar laughing softly as he jots it down. Adding to the sketch with a grin. "Well of course it is mumbo jumbo!! Why wouldn't it be?" He teases lightly, his eyes staring at the tall man's stature from the corner of his eyes. Said man almost folding more in on himself like he was punished.

"Well, it's, it's it like, we'll, complicated?" He chuckles, leaning down quite a good bit, practically on his knees to drape himself over the back of the wheelchair, and onto scar. Scar letting out a huff of a laugh at this.

"Complicated, won't stop me, remember that suit covered in fake flowers? That was far more complicated then this." He snorts. The sketch, and imagine of the dress blossoming under scars fingers.

With mumbos impossible hight, thin body, and sensory issues, almost everything has to be hand made for him to wear. Abd everything matters, down to the tag, the stitching, and the fabric.

It has to be made with love.

Lucky for mumbo 

Scar has a lot of love for the man, that he can pour into each outfit.

Moments past, and before either of them have the chance to notice, the sketch is down and scar is rolling off to the fabrics. Stopping at the blacks.

"Do you want to pick one that feels nice for the outside?" Scar asks with a chuckle as mumbo walks up, feeling along each fabric with care. Knowing that not only is the fabric expensive, but it must also feel safe. He stops at an almost silky one. Thick with a smooth feel to it. Plain black with lines on it, it a barely noticeable darker black. 

"I think this one will be nice..?" Without missing a beat, scar rolls over, looking at the number of the roll and writing it on his wrist.

It's easy to do the same with the rest. Selections of a red dress, following the silky feel. And a soft and warm white for the inside.

They realize it's easy to follow old habits, of mumbo spinning in circles as scar measures him. Scar kissing small areas he can reach, just to fluster mumbo, no matter how often he does it, the pale man still goes bright red, words getting caught in his throat. Mumbo and scar humming along to the same music. Scar joking the mumbo gets the boyfriend privilege of free clothes, Mumbo huffing out laughs in exchange as he makes a silly joke of how it's surprising that scar isn't trying to milk him out of every last Dimond, scar will comment how he'll milk him for something else with far too much confidence, ans then they'll develop into fits of giggles when scar realizes the implications of what he just said, with red faces. Mumbo sitting with scar and idling around the room on the days scar works on it. 

They never really change these days. They don't think they need to.