#the occasional urge to want to share my entire life

[delladuck]

sometimes i’ll see an instagram reel and want to make a ducktales joke about it, and i seriously debate heavily on whether or not to share it here, but i never do because i don’t want to force you guys to click a link

[nhasablogg]

The end (again)

Update: Inactive as of December 1st 2024.

First of all I want to thank you all for following and engaging with me ever since I returned to this space. It's been, mostly, great. I've written some things I'm really proud of, and for that reason I'm reluctant to delete this blog like I did the last.

I think it's been obvious I've not been enjoying myself in a long time, except for the occasional few days when it's been fun to write and interact with people. Throughout this whole year I've been trying to convince myself that I can use this blog only when I want to and feel inspired to, and while it sometimes works it very often just leaves me frustrated as I try to make this space fun for myself again. I'm gonna try not to be too longwinded about this as I have the habit of being, so long story short, I'm going to leave this blog.

I won't be deleting anything, but I'll also not be using this blog anymore. I was debating just disappearing without saying anything, but I think that's rude when some of you have been so very kind. The one and only exception will be if I feel really inspired and write something I love and would like to share specifically on here (or maybe I'll just post them on AO3 if I feel like it). Since I won't feel pressured to use this blog I'm sure that experience will be authentic and beautiful and rare. I want to focus on writing outside of this space, as I keep putting my energy here and not where I'd like it to be. There are lots of things going on in my life right now and I'd like to try to regain some control by using my free time intentionally in order to become the version of myself I'm striving toward. This blog is, unfortunately, not part of that version.

I still have a few prompts I want to fill, and a few WIPs I want to finish/post anyway, so I'm not disappearing just yet. When I say disappear, I'm not sure if I mean that I won't ever be logged in. I'm not entirely sure yet how I'm going to go about it, if I'm going to answer messages or turn asks off or what. I think, in the long run, asks will be turned off just so that I won't feel the urge to log in for the off chance someone has given me some attention. That's why I deleted the old blog, to keep myself from having one foot in there still.

I want to thank you for the lovely lovely time being back here. It's not been perfect, but that's not what I'm deciding to take with me this time. I want to remember writing Criminal Minds fics and Stranger Things fics and Red White and Royal Blue fics and Heartstopper fics, and how lovely you were about those fics. Revisiting fandoms and finding new ones and completing tickletober and having plans and ambitions for projects (even though I didn't always follow through, it's always nice having ambitions). I don't regret deleting the old blog and I don't regret creating this one. I think I probably needed to return, on my own terms, just like I'm now leaving on my own terms. I don't think I did that last time.

I keep rewriting this and looking at it and wondering if I will regret posting it. If posting it will somehow flip the switch and I will find so much joy here again and look like a fool. And if that happens, so be it. But I need to post this. I can't keep procrastinating. I have, in a way, been working up the nerve to say goodbye for the past year.

If you've ever commissioned a fic, I urge you to save it somewhere because I can't promise I won't randomly delete one day in the future either, if I realize it will be for the better (I guess the same goes for if you enjoy a fic and would like to be able to revisit it - but please don't share it anywhere else).

N over and out (well, once I finish those fics I still want to finish)

[ssahotchnerr]

hello hello, aaron thought incoming: i just KNOW aaron would destroy every single one of the team members during a game of beer pong, which leaves them all standing there like 😦 and reader finds it incredibly hot (bonus if reader and aaron are a couple and flirt throughout the entire evening)

if you don’t want to write something about this, it’s totally fine!!! just wanted to share this thought with one of my favorite writers <333 hope you have an amazing day!!!

thank you for thinking of me and for sharing!!!!!!! and omg yes yes YES

i feel like in college, aaron went to the occasional party, BUT in high school, he went to parties weekly. if someone was throwing a house party on a friday or saturday night, he was 100% there. all his friends frequented parties. like he had just gotten back from military school, and while it shaped him a ton, he still wanted to rebel a bit - his bad boy tendencies hadn't gone away completely, he just had a bit more control over it. like in his high school, he was the guy who was a bit nerdy and followed the rules and all, but he got along with everyone. and so he was always invited to numerous things, and he wasn't afraid of letting loose at such. he was one of the cool not-so-cool guys, if that makes sense. AND everyone totally had a crush on him 🤭

when he and haley got together, he mellowed out a bit and stopped partying as much, but when they would go to the occasional party together, she was always his beer pong partner 😭 UGH just the vision of a young aaron at a party >>> 😵‍💫 with haley glued to his side, his arm around her waist at all times </3

and so, he's had a ton of practice and experience when it comes to beer pong:

SO now, you're all having a get together at penelope's apartment - like one of her day of the dead parties - she and derek set up the beer pong table. it's a few games later when aaron's asked to play; he agrees but mentions how he "may be a little rusty" and everyone thinks he's saying that simply as a cover - like oh he's going to be shit at it but that's his excuse why 🙄 BUT clearly they're wrong and HE destroys everyone.

and while everyone else is dumbfounded and questioning everything they thought they knew in life LOL, you just can't pull your eyes away from him 😮‍💨 aaron's wearing a short sleeved shirt, so you can see his muscles flexing every time he raises his arm to toss a ball. or you can't help but stare at his neck every time he raises his head to drink a cup 😵‍💫😮‍💨🤤 he's just oozing confidence, he's cocky in a nonchalant attractive kinda way - like he knows he's good and isn't afraid to show it <33333333 and he's showing off for you, to impress you and he's just glowing every time you cheer him on, it just urges him on 🥰 he's laughing and smiling and just looks relaxed for once, simply enjoying himself.

hehe i love to think this would take place when aaron and you are just in the very beginning of your relationship too 🤭 nothing is labeled just yet, but you know he has a thing for you, and he knows you feel the same 🥰 the two of you have shared some kisses, spend your weekends together, AH hehe and all the beginning-of-relationship nervous jitters are still there 💓💕💓💓

he's driving you home (he didn't drink too much and isn't tipsy or anything - don't drink and drive 🫵🏻) and you turn to him, all flirty, amused, still a bit in shock, and say, "i didn't know you were a master at the art of beer pong"

he chuckles a bit, eyes shift from the road to you for a moment 🦋, a small smirky smile tugging at his lips and he responds, "there's a lot you don't know about me" 🤭 <33333333333333

[slushycoookie]

Fooling Around

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 778

Content: Smut...kinda, you and Miguel basically have phone sex, Minors DNI!

Summary: Miguel gets bored during patrol so yall fool around.

A/N: Thought about this yesterday so I had to write a little something something

Miguel was bored.

He stood atop a high rise, overlooking Nueva York as Spider-Man. For the past week while patrolling the city, nothing happened. There was the occasional purse snatcher or a group of guys ganging up on someone in the alleyway. But no villain of the week. No drastic explosions or saving hostages from a burning building. Nothing.

Usually amid his boredom, he called you. Providing him the entertainment he needed before calling it a night. He worried if he was bothering you, but you quickly pushed away his doubts. So he called you.

“Hi Miggy.” You greeted in a pleasing tone that made him smile. “Patrol boring you again today?”

Miguel scoffed, “No. I can't call the person I adore and admire in my life?”

“I didn't say that. You know I like it when you call.”

His heart jumped, doing his best to keep his calm demeanor. “So? What are you doing?”

“Just got out of the shower.” You casually said. “Like I just put on a towel when you called.” 

He closed his eyes to envision you in a towel. Body still wet, skin soft, and smelling oh so good. “You showered without me?”

“Mm I'm not waiting until midnight to shower with you.”

“Last time, I came home around 11.”

“Oh wow, an hour difference!”

The entire time, Miguel was swinging around, enjoying the back-and-forth banter. He stuck his claws into another building while looking at his city again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you getting out of the shower. “Are you…still in your towel?”

Silence was on the other side. He bit his lip, not knowing why that slipped through his lips. 

“Yeah.” He let out a breath he was holding in. “Why you wanna know, hm?”

“Because I want to take it off.” Miguel bluntly said. He turned inward to the building, making sure no one had a clear view to see what he was about to do. It didn't take much for him to get hard at the thought of your naked body. 

“Do you now?” Your voice oozed with flirtation while you shifted through the call. “Aren't you supposed to be patrolling right now?”

“I am. I'm still paying attention.”

“Uh huh.”

Miguel sighed, “I'd rather go home and run my fingers down your spine. Kissing you like you deserve.”

“Mmm…” His body formed goosebumps at the mellow sound. Soon his hand went lower, palming himself. “And then what?”

“I'd kiss that wonderful neck of yours while running my thumbs over your nipples…But since I'm not there, can you do that for me, cariño?”

“Okay…” He imagined you pinching the nub, circling your fingers around them with ease. With a few button presses to his watch, he unsheathed his cock, giving it a few strokes. 

“Good. You're always so good for me, baby.” He shuddered at your desperate sounds, running his thumb along the tip to gather some pre cum.

“Mig…” You pleaded amongst your sighs, “Come home…”

“Not yet. Spider-Man still has a job to do.” He pressed his head against the wall, fighting the urge to go against his word. He did want to go home and fuck you into your shared bed. But he didn't want to neglect his duties. “Since you're so desperate for me, I'll make sure you come,  okay?” You made a noise in agreement, but he wanted to really hear you. “Use your words.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Now, touch yourself for me.”

He groaned at hearing you pleasuring yourself for him. Touching yourself as if he was doing it. Moaning for him as if he was doing it. He loved it. Loved you. He stroked himself while he listened, claws deep in the building as he held on tight. 

“Fuck…Miguel…” 

He rolled his eyes back when his name escaped your lips. “Hm? You getting close for me?”

“Yes…”

“Do it. I'll put you on speaker so the whole city can know who you're crying out for.” He did just that, thrusting his hips in his hand as he was close himself. You almost screaming for him was going to tip him over the edge. And he was ready for it.

A loud explosion was heard a few blocks away, the sound of people screaming and running for their lives. 

“Miguel? What was that?”

He put his head upwards to the sky, holding back the loudest sound of annoyance he could muster. God was not being kind to him right now. “Got to go. Sorry.”

“It's okay. Be safe.”

“I will.” 

Hanging up, he quickly swung to the scene. Whoever decided to mess with his fun time with you was going to get it.

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 31 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: This one's a little late since I'm out of town for my best friend's wedding! It's been busy, but so much fun! That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter before something truly chaotic. We're close to the end now! Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!

May 1945 

The return to Thorpe Abbotts was a happy one, albeit one that caused a little bit of confusion given the amount of family members that Ruth had returned with.  Ruth wasn’t going to let them just stay in London—so John, Sveta, David, and her Uncle Yosef all ended up coming to stay at Thorpe Abbotts for the time being.  And they weren’t the only ones that were back.  

The men that had been downed in the Stalag had returned to Thorpe Abbotts as well and that meant that the place was packed to the brim with people.  It was a welcome sight to Ruth, who had thought that the place seemed a little empty before she had left. 

Though the end of the war was practically here (at least in Europe), Ruth knew that her work was just beginning.  Going into Germany, being on the front-lines, seeing firsthand the brutality of what her people had experienced—it had awoken something in Ruth that she had never felt before.  There was a righteous rage that made her want to be the hand of God, the hand of justice, in seeing the wicked powers of Nazism burned from the very earth she stood on.  

There was also the fact that the war in the Pacific raged on and until something drastic took place, it was likely that those that fought in Europe would be sent there too.  Ruth wanted it all to just end.  She wanted this war to be over so that she could help the people who had been displaced and hurt and wronged.  She wanted to reunite families and help those that had been separated from their home countries be able to return to a safe place. 

It was all just a dream to her, but a beautiful dream nonetheless.  Ruth wasn’t sure she would have the heart to go through with it, had she not talked to Robby about the entire thing.  He had determined that he would help in the trials against the Nazis as a lawyer—and that singular fact had urged her to share her ideas of helping the Jewish people in Europe with him. 

Robby, true to his character and nature, had beamed at her and told her that he’d stick by her however long it took her.  

Fewer and fewer battle missions went out anymore.  Now their purpose was changing.  No more were they going out and being the terrors of the skies, vying for control and leaving bodies in their wake.  Now they were running relief aid into the countries that had been ravaged by the war.  Now they were running mercy missions to help those that needed it the most.  

At that, Ruth had several thoughts and provided a great deal of counsel of the places that needed it most.  

For the first time in her life, Ruth Sharpe felt utterly fulfilled and needed in a whole new way. Between having both of her brothers on the base, several cousins, and her uncle Yosef, Ruth didn’t feel like she was alone on the continent anymore.  There was the fact that she and Robby—well she wasn’t quite sure what to call them.  Girlfriend and boyfriend didn’t seem to convey the depth of their feelings for one another.  All she knew is that he was it for her.  And he always would be. 

All of these thoughts just seemed to bounce around in her mind like a rubber band snapping and rebounding over and over again.  Then one day, it all just seemed to change like a blink of an eye. 

For Ruth Sharpe, who began the war with the broadcast on December 8th 1941, another broadcast would mark a turning point.  She was sitting in the command office next to Jack Kidd and occasionally making a few notes about another relief mission that would soon be flown when the announcement came in. 

One of the aides for the camp came running as fast as he could, immediately turning on the radio.  Almost immediately, everyone in the entirety of the command office went silent and held their breath as the announcement was made.  

“Yesterday morning at 2:41 am, at General Eisenhower’s Headquarters, General Jodl, the representative of the German High Command, and of Grand Admiral Dönitz, the designated head of the German State, signed the act of unconditional surrender of all German land, sea, and air forces in Europe to the Allied Expeditionary Force and simultaneously to the Soviet High Command. Hostilities will officially end at one minute after midnight tonight, Tuesday the 8th of May. But in the interest of saving lives, the ceasefire began yesterday to be sounded all along the front and our dear Channel Islands.”

Ruth knew that the minute those words were spoken, millions of people all over the world were likely weeping and rejoicing at the thought of the war being over.  The long shadow and night in Europe was over—and though there was still war in the Pacific, it didn’t matter much to Ruth.  Their part was done now—and she could finally focus on her family, on her people, in the way that they all deserved it. 

She scarcely processed the fact that everyone was cheering and excitedly rejoicing the news.  Ruth let the tears fall freely—for the men that they had lost, the civilian lives taken, the people who had suffered under tyranny and godlessness, and for the families that had been affected by this damn war.  

The next few minutes were sheer and total madness as she began running—she had to get to her brothers, had to get to her family, had to get to Robby.  Because if this was all over, then they had a hell of a lot of things to talk about and figure out—but more importantly, they had so much to celebrate. 

When she caught sight of Robby and John embracing outside near the tarmac, Ruth couldn’t help the fact that she gave a cheer.  And then she caught sight of Abe and Liesel sprinting full-force at her and Ruth couldn’t help what happened next—she took a spill straight into the mud as they collided with her and she just threw her head back and gave a gut-wild laugh. 

When Robby finally extended a hand to Ruth, having made his way over there, Ruth just gave a grin and then tugged him into the mud too.  “Ruth!” Robby exclaimed with a yelp. 

But she wasn’t sorry.  They were all together.  This war was over.  And there was so much hope in the air—it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While everyone on Thorpe Abbotts was throwing the celebration of a lifetime, Ruth found herself and her small family unit crowded in her office.  They were all sharing drinks and cigarettes, exchanging treats and chocolate, and lighting candles for the ones that they had lost along the way. 

Ruth had never been big on parties and this was much preferable to being in a large setting, even though she had grown quite fond of the people at Thorpe Abbotts.  It was Liesel who kicked off the entire discussion that was so desperately needed.  Perched atop Ruth’s spare chair, Liesel leaned forward with a pensive expression upon her face. 

“What is it, Li?” Sveta questioned, hand rubbing against her younger sister’s hair. 

Liesel just squinted, gaze flickering between Robby and Ruth—both of whom were snuggled up together in Ruth’s chair, almost obscenely happy together.  “Well…I suppose I am just wondering what we will do now that it is all over.” 

Ruth glanced around at the uncertainty in the room—everyone had it on their face.  And Ruth couldn’t say that she entirely blamed them.  Liesel had been through literal hell just trying to escape with her mother—only for her mother to have been killed and for a kind family to take her all the way to England.  Sveta had miraculously survived the executions at the camps and been brought here.  But they had no place to go to, no home to return to. 

The same was true for David—his entire family had been caught and killed fairly early on in the war and he was completely alone, sans their Uncle Yosef—and his wife and all of his children and grandchildren had been lost to the camps.  None of these people had homes or families to return to.  And the country they had come from would not be kind to them if they returned. 

No, they needed to go to America.  They would need Visas for that.  They would need endorsements.  They would need Ruth.  

Her gaze flickered onto John and Abe, both of whom just seemed to be paying attention to her reaction in the entire thing. 

“I think,” Ruth began carefully.  “It all depends on what you want to do.  Robby and I,” she said, entwining Robby’s hand in hers.  “Have talked and we want to stay in Europe.” 

“What?” Abe’s expression fell at the thought. 

“I’ve been asked to assist in the trials,” Robby explained in a soothing tone.  “And Ruth—” 

“I’m not going until I can help more of our people here.  There are families who have been separated, people who don’t know if they have anything to return to.  I feel—I feel like I need to do what I can.  But if you all want to go—” 

Almost immediately, the room was in an uproar.  Finally, Uncle Yosef seemed to take control of the conversation, clearing his throat and shaking his head.  “As much as I want to see my brother, I do not feel I can yet leave your side, my Rutha.” 

Ruth felt a small smile cross her features.  “You’d stay to help?” 

Yosef just gave a nod.  “If you are helping our people, then I will do the same.” 

“Well we’re not going anywhere without you either,” John insisted, crossing his arms and giving Ruth a look.  “Besides, don’t you two, like, need chaperones or something?” 

At that, Robby snorted.  “And you qualify?” 

“Yes!” John insisted.  

“Besides, ma’ will kill me if I show up by myself,” Abe added.  “She’ll be more pleased if you bring us home with you.” 

“That just leaves you three,” Ruth stated, gaze falling onto David, Sveta, and Liesel. 

Liesel’s expression immediately turned to one of fierce stubbornness.  “Well I’m not leaving you either.  You promised me that I’d get to see Big Ben and I shan’t leave until I’ve done so.” 

Ruth gave a laugh and Sveta solemnly promised that she wanted to stay with her sister.  That left just David to give an answer.  The young man just rolled his eyes and glanced around at the room.  “As if any of you would have any fun without me.  I’m staying too.” 

“Then that settles it,” Ruth said with a nod.  “I’ll write to mother—” 

“No, no, no!” Yosef exclaimed.  “We must surprise your parents!” 

Ruth blinked in surprise.  “You want to kill off my parents by giving them heart attacks when I bring you all back?” 

Yosef just grinned, a slight twinkle in his eye revealing the mischievous nature of his plan.  “No!  I just think it would make for a better reunion if we all went together and surprised them after the trials!” 

“Your ma’ will kill us,” Robby mumbled. 

“Considering this isn’t a dictatorship, I suppose I should let you all vote,” Ruth said, crossing her arms with a huff. 

With only her and Robby voting to tell their parents, Ruth silently accepted the fact that her mother, was in fact, going to murder her when she got back. “Well I guess we’re not telling anyone that you’re all alive,” Robby said, letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Is your entire family this argumentative?” 

“It’s genetic,” Ruth said, pressing a short kiss to his cheek. 

Uncle Yosef leaned forward, rubbing his hands together.  “Then I suppose that only leaves one small matter.” 

“What’s that, Uncle Yosef?” Abe questioned, gaze falling on the older man. 

Yosef’s gaze leveled onto Robby and Ruth.  “I think you two should get married.  Preferably soon.  Preferably with me performing the marriage.” 

Ruth’s jaw dropped. “Uncle Yosef!” 

He just grinned.  “I know love when I see it!  And Robby is good Jewish boy!  What more you want?” 

“Yeah, Ruthie,” Robby grinned.  “What more do you want?  Whaddya say?  Wanna elope?” 

Ruth just scowled.  “If mother wasn’t going to kill me for bringing you all home and not telling her you all were alive, she’s certainly going to kill me for this.  Aah….what the hell—sure!” 

[your-local-hollow-lover]

Wild hike

Summary: Grimmjow finally tosses his stigmatization for seeking physical contact out the window. His kisses are rough and taste like blood.

A/N: This is a short piece, but made with utter love! Grimmjow is my baby, and I want him to get kisses :')

Grimmjow knew how to make your problems disappear. Even if only because he temporarily replaced them with a few more severe ones, like feeling life slip from your lips with every somersault he took.

Rushing through the vast desert of white sand, he carried you in his arms while you clung to his neck as if letting go represented imminent death. Grimmjow, who occasionally glanced your way, cackled at your hilarious grimace.

Maybe this was a punishment for ignoring him for so long, or perhaps it was his twisted idea of a date. He took a few more jumps, and you arrived at your destination.

With a swing that turned your stomach, he set you down. You squeezed the sand with both hands, happy to be back on the ground.

"Here it is," Grimmjow said, placing his hands on either side of his hips, looking at the landscape looming ahead.

You followed his gaze to find a cemetery: thousands of gigantic bones lay over the sand. Some of them were half submerged, and others were only visible through the pointy tips piercing the whiteness of the desert. Each one of them, big or small, shone under the moon.

"I bring them here after killing them."

From your seat on the floor, Grimmjow looked even more imposing.

"Why?" you asked genuinely.

Grimmjow took a couple of seconds to articulate his response. He had no problem saying it. However, for some reason, sharing this kind of thing made him feel awkward.

At the beginning of his relationship with you, that feeling infuriated him. Now, it just felt strange. Like a tickle in the hole doomed to be unfillable and yet-

"I come here to sleep," he granted.

Surprise showered across your face. It made sense. With the amount of death energy and Grimmjow's spiritual pressure, it would be pretty damn stupid to come near this area.

"This is amazing!" you finally let out in a brisk breath. You grinned. "Can I see from upright?"

It was stupid, but he was pleased that you liked it. Grimmjow smirked. In a swift motion, he carried you to the sky again.

The boneyard looked more impressive from above. You could entirely make out every shape from up high.

"All of this was during Aizen or after?"

"After him. The other would've missed the chance to pick on me for this. Especially that lunatic of Szayel."

You chuckled. "Yeah, I bet Szayel would've wanted to investigate them. They're huge!"

Lately, Grimmjow had put less and less resistance trying human things with you, the least you could do was show interest in matters meaningful to him.

You praised the size of his prey with excitement. It was in these moments that he realized how screwed up he was. Suddenly, Grimmjow was hyperaware of your hands around his neck and the warmth of your body against his. He gritted his teeth.

No doubt it was easier for him to deal with these unwanted feelings now, but he still wasn't all that good at managing the urge to do certain human things– damn it. He wouldn't think too hard about it. Grimmjow made up his mind. He would do what he pleased.

You were chatting about the sand when he grasped your hair, tugging it to turn your head toward him. You gasped. He clapped his mouth over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth. It was a rough kiss, as was his custom, yet no less delicious for that.

You caught his mouth again as soon as he pulled back. Your hands stroked his hair. Grimmjow reciprocated by pulling you closer to him. You bit his lip. He grunted against your mouth.

The light sensation faded just before your feet touched the ground again. It was the inside of the skull. The floor was surprisingly smooth.

Grimmjow held you over his lap as he leaned against the inside wall. He bit your neck before gently sucking on the spot.

"You will stay here for tonight."

You brushed your lips over his mouth, enjoying how he chased them.

"Only if you devour me," you said through half-hooded eyes. Grimmjow smirked, and he kissed you again.

[freeuselandonorris]

haven't thought thinking of your demon succubus!lando since you introduced it like.... i know he's a demon but are they gonna fall in luuuuuuv lol what does demon lando look like!? ahhhh i can't get enough already !!! also what are your other wips??

ahhh ty anon i’m so excited about it!! sooo since it’s for the halloween horror fest, they won’t be falling in love exactly (which means i’m going to have to fight my natural urge to write freak sex -> feelings as usual lmao) but there will be some kind of horrible symbiotic obsession/oscar being held in lando’s thrall vibe… as for his appearance, i think he’ll look kinda like irl lando does when he occasionally comes across very woodland creature: strange pale eyes, sharp little teeth, weird slightly sickly glow to him. pearly sheen to his skin but in a way that makes him look slightly poisonous.

interestingly, i’m actually not sure what terminology i should use here because lando is a boydemon so actually he should be an incubus, not a succubus, HOWEVERRRR traditionally, the incubus wants to impregnate women, whereas the succubus (traditionally female) wants to collect semen to gain life force/power, which is much more how i imagine lando. so, bollocks to the gender of it all, i think: he’s a succubus.

my other WIPs are:

hungary mondayverse sequel featuring lando pov (!!!), lots of feelings, monopoly, and sex with even more feelings!

cyberpunk AU featuring augmented driver oscar and heavily modded ex-driver race engineer cyborg!lando, cybernetic mind-meld shared sensory apparatus sex, dystopian indoor geodesic dome racing that could kill the entire audience, and oscar making some exciting discoveries about lando’s technologically advanced abilities in the bedroom 🫡

also the max/lando feminisation fic i’ve been fighting with for a million years and can not seem to finish

[bee-dot-exe]

Alright. Okay. Buckle up. I'm making this post I guess.

I'm gonna be honest, when I suddenly saw someone post on here and the caption or hashtag said something like "Forever neg", I just. Didn't read it. I didn't really read anything that came up on my dash with his name actually because it was 95 percent negative. And I wanted to wait to see if he would say anything or share his side or whatever before I read anything or saw any opinions of what could potentially not be the same for the sake of my own mental health really. And when I went to where the search bar and trending tabs are and saw that a recommended tag to follow was "Forever situation" I was actually mad.

Well he went live while I was asleep or doing something and I didn't know, so when I saw something here saying he had been live, I didn't read it, but I opened the vod so fast.

And I cried. Not hard. But I did.

First off, I would like to say I appreciate Forever for going live and talking about this at all, he could've waited much longer to say anything or just brushed past it entirely, but he didn't. That doesn't mean the subject of the stream was okay, I just am glad he said something at all.

What he did was really bad. Like not okay at all. But I also believe that some people, absolutely not every person, but some, can grow up and try to change. And I would really like to believe that Forever is one of those people. I am not defending him in the slightest, I am not denying anything, but I also am taking into consideration that this happened some eight years ago.

I don't know if I will look at him completely the same or support him with every inch of my being again since knowing this, but I do wish him the best in whatever comes next in his life, be that projects or furthering his relationship or whatever.

I will still occasionally make him a subject or mention him in things I write because I'm not writing about ccForever, I'm writing about qForever, and his character meant and still means so much to me.

I've had anxiety my whole life, this past like month has been especially bad, and I've felt genuinely a bit sick since I watched. I just can't stop thinking about it. I have only known about Forever for like four months, but his character and therefore him as a creator, have been wrapped around my brain. People say things, namely Badboyhalo, that he is like the sun kind of joking, but it truly does kind of feel like it.

And that's it. He ended stream with a montage of clips from the server with Cucorucho shooting him point blank. No more interactions or lore or theories.

I'm saying this once and I hope that's all the times I need to say it.

We are not going to do anything or urge anyone to say anything further on the matter to anyone if they don't want to talk about it. Not to Quackity or the QSMP team. Not to other creators. Not to friends or family of his. Not to other fans past or present. Not to Forever.

We are allowed to be angry or confused or even grieve. But we will do it privately and be respectful.

Goodbye Forever.

[stankycowboy]

Spotify top 100 meme: 🎁 psychic wound — king woman @pohlepen

He lingers close to her in the dark room, focus fixed, a looming shadow washing over her, over everything, suffocating in the small space; an all encompassing force, greedy for everything it can take. Even as he swallows whole all in his presence, it is still Severen who feels like the one drowning.

Help me I'm so chained to you, Someone tell me what to do. Like two convicts joined by a punishing tether-- though this one remains unseen-- he cannot escape this woman. Not entirely. Needing to be close to her ( not her, to him ). Forced to be drawn back to her side, despite all attempts to quash the impulse; to stymie his instinctive urge to feed the once quieted addiction. Although he can't even muster the false concern to even remember her name, he becomes an odd, near constant, companion. Emerging nightly to share a smoke, sometimes taking her home and roaming around her apartment until he slips away without notice. Nevermind that he occupies himself with very particular objects. Ones he can still feel its presence upon. Feeling like a psychic wound. It is a painful pressure, coming from inside himself. Where once he might have been able to asses a point of origin, the infection is in full spread; burning in every cell of his body. What was a mental draw, an occasional occupation in his mind, has evolved into a near physical agony. Unite us. Together. We don't want to be alone. Why have I been punished? I've been banished from the sky The fact that they must be this separate is a torture akin to that he suffered when aflame; a roiling continual pain that manifests just as he thinks the last of it has ceased. Now the closest they have been to one another in how many years is through another; and barely that. She is merely a vestige, harboring a shadow of what actually lies beneath. A tracery leftover like crumbs fallen to a table and abandoned after the meal has been consumed ( but he will wet the surface with his tongue to have even these fragments ). She bears a faded memory from someone else's recording. A copy, of a copy. Wholly unsatisfying, and yet he will take even this scant imprint as sign of life. As a possibility of closing their distance permanently once more. Clinging to his mighty chest, Bury my face and cry, I bow to him Just to sleep next to you A force I can't deny His fingers reach to stroke her hair, in his mind it is not red, it is not long, it is stiff, close to the scalp, near white with a hint of burnished gold. These are not eyes staring at him, they are mouths, they hunger as he does; they want to bleed for him-- he would bleed himself if it would make this fantasy real. If it were not her here, this substitute, but the real thing. Not a paltry replacement for the one he seeks. The haunting nightmare that has left its roost. When I'm spread on the bed You remain the luscious fruit She allows him to draw close, she does not read his mind like another might have, seen the dark intent that lies there, but it is not for her mortal life that he craves, but to again savor the remnant her flesh bears; perhaps just to flavor what it has imprinted in her lifesource. Just to make real even a part of his imaginings, to hold close the visual that he might have that glittering wash of dark grit in his teeth and not the inadequate taste of human meat. As his teeth press into skin that does not taste of ash, of soot, or steel, but warm, living, and perfumed, Severen feels an inner rage swell, overcoming the desperate depression that fogs his mind. A determination that he will not settle for this alone. He will draw out the hidden wretch, will conquer this divide. This wound will not be left to fester, and she will be made example of that.

[markcampbells]

As ever, I am both nosy and greedy, so: 💫🌿🕯️🎀

Em, I'm so sorry, I saw you of all people sent me asks for this and my brain shorted out like my Playstation in a recent thunderstorm. 😂 (The Playstation is fine! My brain is debatable.)

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

I really, really appreciate when people call out specific lines or moments they liked! It helps me understand what it is about the stuff I write that resonates with people, and it's just always nice to know what people liked about something I created. I also appreciate the comments I get occasionally where people tell me I helped them view a character differently or consider something they hadn't before! It always feels funny and gratifying to get people thinking differently about something we both know really well.

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Is there any other answer than "like a merciless god?" No, in all sincerity, great. Writing has been my main creative hobby (reading book buying is probably my main hobby in general) since I was ten years old, and nothing has really come close to it in terms of me having an outlet and a way to do something that's, by and large, for myself. I do work with partners, I go in and out of writing fanfiction (we are in an "in" phase at the moment), but I have my own original stuff that I pretty much write for myself because I don't aim to publish, and it feels nice to be able to do what I want and write what I want to see in the world. I've sometimes considered writing something longer I would submit to an independent press or something (I usually get this urge each year after the Brooklyn Book Festival, aka The Day Trai's Wallet Cries, because you spend the day talking to all these folks from indie presses and seeing authors like "yeah! I want to do that!!!"), but for right now, I'm happy making my own little worlds and characters who owe their existence to me.

🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

pack up the life that's left is probably the hardest thing I've written for McKirk, and in some ways, in general. My dad died when I was young, and in a few ways, that's why McKirk resonates for me so strongly as a character dynamic--AOS Jim's entire life is shaped by his father's death, and even if TOS McCoy's loss of his own father was sort of a last-minute retcon of his character in some ways, it's so wrenchingly acted by DeForest Kelly (and, I think rightfully, called one of the best Trek scenes ever by people who know what they're talking about) that you can't help but accept it as the major moment it is, so when you combine those two characterizations together into one ship where these characters can share those emotions with each other... it's a lot. And it's a kind of relationship I have personal experience with, because my high school best friend lost his father when we were teens, and we've been each other's confidants and consolation in that regard for at least fifteen years. Jim never knew his dad, while I knew mine to a certain extent, but the thing we have in common is that grieving as an adult hits somewhat differently. For myself, I had a period of a few years in my late twenties where I kind of had to reprocess all my grief and think, fuck, I'm a whole person my dad never got to know. And in a lot of ways, I'll never really know my dad beyond what my family and his friends can tell me. I wanted to explore some of those same feelings for Jim--what would it make him feel to learn that his mother had kept a tangible connection to his father from him? And once he's processed that new connection, what will he do with it? While I don't personally observe any faith, my parents had an interfaith marriage, and I grew up most connected to my father's Jewish family. My mom, after his passing, made sure to observe certain customs, including marking my dad and his parents' passing with a yahrzeit candle each year. Because I work with the fanon that Jim is Jewish, with my personal spin on that being that Jim feels somewhat alienated from his faith on the whole post-Frank but is trying to regain it, I knew I wanted to include that in the fic, and so did the best I could to represent that tradition. I have to admit that the most gratifying and touching thing about getting this fic out into the world was the people who took the time to comment by sharing their own stories about loss, and what it meant to them to see a Jewish mourning custom reflected in fic. I really was not expecting that kind of response and it made the effort it took to pull the story together so worth it.

🎀 give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I try as hard as I possibly can to get the emotional side of my work right, and sometimes that gets really difficult when I'm writing about something I haven't personally experienced. I think, in that regard, the thing I'm proudest of is the second chapter of your hands can heal.... I have, honestly, been deeply fortunate to never experience severe mental illness or emotional abuse, and both things figure heavily in Bones' background in that chapter, conveyed to my readers by some fairly sparse flashbacks. I knew I had done my best to write the work in a way that felt true to me, but I wasn't really going to be sure if I had gotten it right until I heard from readers, and the comments I've gotten in response over the years about getting those aspects right have meant more to me than practically any other feedback I've ever gotten.

[panthera-dei]

Hi! I like the panther of your avatar. Just wondering if there is any significance/story about it.

Hello, anon!! That's a wonderful question. There is a story to it! It's the same as the story of my username. The panther represents me! I often use panther photographs from Unsplash to represent me online.

I do this because I'm a jaguar therian. A therian (or therianthrope) is someone who partially identifies as an animal. This is considered a form of neurodivergence, like ADHD and autism. It's probably comorbid with one or more of those conditions in most cases, and in some cases the traits of those conditions overlap with therian traits. I say "probably" because very little research has been conducted on therianthropy (almost none), and information about it with documented scientific sources is hard to find. In fact, the source that I learned this information from is no longer online. Go figure.

Most therians, such as myself, share characteristics of "our" animal in some way and experience something called shifts. A shift is when the animal part of you "comes forward" in some way. This is not voluntary and can't be controlled.

There are different ways that shifts can occur. For example, when I have a sensory shift, I hyperfocus on what I can smell and what I can hear. When I have a mental shift, I tend to be more vigilant of my surroundings and I may exhibit more feline behavior (for example, once during a very intense shift, I had to stop myself from attempting to jump up onto the counter. The urge was very strong).

The most common shifts for me are phantom shifts... A phantom shift is experiencing a phantom limb. I usually feel this on my face, especially fangs - as well as on my hands as claws. Occasionally I will feel a tail. For me, this is usually manageable and body dysphoria is my worst symptom; however, for many people, phantom sensations can be a real challenge.

I didn't know what any of this was as a child. I first started noticing my symptoms/characteristics around age 10-11. I had no vocabulary to explain what I felt, and no desire to try because I knew it would sound like my big imagination. I knew that I felt claws and teeth more strongly when I was scared, upset, or angry, and I had an extremely vague idea that "something big and black and claw-y lived inside me," but I had no clue what it was or why. I got more used to the sensations as I grew up and noticed them less in some ways and more in others.

Finally, right around the time I graduated college, I was researching rainforest animals for a character in a story I was working on, and I came across a picture of a melanistic jaguar with dark brown/black fur. Instantly, I had a bolt of realization hit me and I *knew* that this was "me," and it was a relief to know that the "big claw-y thing" was an actual animal and not some formless *thing.* .... But I still had no idea that therianthropy existed and therefore I believed I was crazy and kept my mouth shut.

Finally, *finally,* in the first few months of the pandemic, I accidentally came across a website called Therian Guide while I was looking for something completely different. And suddenly my entire life made sense!

My username ties in because it (loosely) translates to "Cat [Panther] of God" in Latin. It's a reference to Medieval "werewolves" who claimed to journey to Hell to fight the Devil in wolf form at night. It's possible, though uncertain, that these self-proclaimed "Dogs of God" and "St. Peter's Wolves" were Medieval therians.

It's important to note that therians don't choose to be therians, nor do we choose "our" animal. All of it is completely involuntary. Some of us never figure out our theriotypes ("our" animals) and some of us, like me, may recognize some traits of our theriotypes but don't figure it out until later in life. And some therians probably never get lucky enough to find out what their condition really is.

Anyway, I'm sure that was more detail than you wanted; however, I like to raise awareness of therianthropy when I can. It will probably never be recognized as a real and valid form of neurodivergence and a neurological/psychological condition in my lifetime, but I believe in being optimistic about the future. ^^

.... Thankfully my partner is very patient and sometimes even enjoys my "Cat Brain!" 😂💖

Thanks for asking, and thanks for understanding! 💙🐾

[champagnebutch]

It’s early March in the late 2010s, and I am in the back half of my freshman year of high school. I’m chatting with a friend on discord, a real life friend, I know them from school, but we’re chatting online cos he’s two years older than me and, as a junior, is currently visiting colleges in and around NYC.

We’re chatting. It’s banal shit, really. He asks if I’m watching the Oscars, I say no but I might later, he says I should watch cos they started at 5pm and it’s already 5:30.

A little later they ask me a question

“does [mutual friend] ever tell you what’s going on with them? like mentally and stuff? (its a yes or no question im not asking about [them])”

I say no, not especially. Why?

Instead of responding directly, he asks another question.

“you ever get the urge to tell someone a secret of yours? but you dont know how they’ll react or if they’ll even wanna know your name after you tell them?”

I ask if they want to share something with me. And they do.

They share a lot.

They share their childhood trauma. How poor their mental health has been since elementary school. The lows that it hit in middle school. They share the mental disorder they’ve told maybe a handful of people about. Their whole life story, really. I’m the second person who’s heard everything start to finish.

I say “i swear to fuck, were money not an issue, id be packing my bags and hopping on a flight right now, you need a hug”

They concur, but say they feel the love through the screen.

I ask if they want to share more.

They do. He asks how it makes me feel.

“really, really fuckin worried for you.

im not leaving you,

not for long time”

They are reassured, at least somewhat.

He asks if I’ll be there for support when he goes in for top surgery after the end of the school year.

I say yes, honored.

A week passes. He’s been back several days now, but we haven’t seen each other at school as much as we’d like. We agree to hang out at mine on Saturday, and he’ll probably stay for dinner. I imagine we’ll play some games, show each other some funny videos, which we do.

We insist on a closed door for privacy. We share some shitposts on my computer. He sits in my lap while we watch. I don’t object. Occasionally I push him off and halfway jump out of my seat when a family member asks me for something.

He asks me why.

I ask myself why.

That night I don’t really come to terms with my sexuality, but I do realize my sexuality has terms with which I must come to.

However, despite not really knowing how I’d describe my orientation, I know I’m into them, and they’re into me. That night, after having crawled under the kitchen table after dinner with them and discussing my sexuality crisis, we get together. That day will be our anniversary date.

Not long later, we are publicly a couple. I find it important to mention that we are fucking adorable. Basically the entire student body at school thinks we’re cute. The teachers think we’re cute. The school director thinks we’re cute.

We go to a very weird private high school, in an idiosyncratic part of the country, and the place was tiny. Such an environment means we can do shit like have an all-school camping trip at the beginning and end of every year. On the bus ride back from that end of year camping trip, my history teacher makes sure that the two of us can sit together for the otherwise boring hours-long trip.

After that end of year trip, I make good on my promise and am there for my boyfriend when he gets top surgery.

I come out to him as transfem around then. He's the first person I tell.

That summer I spend a lot of time at their house, a place in the hills that’s way too big and that they move out of later. They're happy with this decision because of the memories that lived there with them, in those high ceilings and tall stairs.

We watch something on Netflix. It is, I assume, not especially gripping, seeing as I no longer remember what it was. He acts somewhat odd and slightly frustrating, and I don't really know what to do. But I figure it’s nothing and he'll be fine soon.

He has a breakdown not much later. He’s sorry for being mean. He’s worried I’ll leave him, that he’s fucked everything up. He doesn’t want me to go.

“Babe, I’m here.

I’m not going anywhere,

not for a long time”

I make good on that promise, too. Maybe I make too good on it.

We're together for a while. But he eventually goes up to Canada for university, and I'm still a high school junior, stuck down here in the states. He tries to break up with me, but neither of us really have any other better form of connection; his new friends are still new, and I am still generally bad at making friends at all.

We're on and off for a while. Eventually we're off for the last time.

New feelings came up. He wanted space. They set a boundary. I failed to abide it.

I was there when I wasn't wanted.

He breaks up with me for the last time.

Eventually we get the chance to talk about what happened. He forgives me, somehow. They offer me a smoke, and I take the only drag off the only cigarette I’ve had in my life.

I’m single for several months. Retail work is soul-draining, but it’s an income, and it helps distract when the self-loathing kicks in.

Eventually someone new starts working at the store. She’s really pretty, and sweet, and lovely, and best of all she makes my feelings of worthlessness dissolve. It takes a while before I really understand how I feel about her.

We spend our lunches together whenever we can. We add each other on Discord. We chat. Fairly banal stuff. I talk about my brother and I loving languages, and him being in Taiwan for work. They talk about being polyamorous, and how they and their nesting partner recently hosted one of their metamours.

Eventually they leave the store job, it was just too much for them on top of their other, more important work. Once they cease being my co-worker, they ask to hang out. 

We do. 

We go on a walk by the lake. I discover later that I walk altogether too fast for them, but they don’t mind that much.

We agree to spend more time together, but it takes two weeks for our schedules to work out again. It’s during that time I realize how I feel about her. It’s a long two weeks.

That hang-out turns into our first date, a picnic. That day, the exact same date as my prior relationship, will be our anniversary date.

I visit her place. I meet her nesting partner, my metamour, who lends me a bass guitar after hearing that I’d been interested in learning.

I show my girlfriend Critical Role, she gets me back into Magic: the Gathering.

We go to Trans March that June.

We support each other through the little hiccups that life throws at you.

I cry in their arms as I recount to them what happened with my ex. They share that they made a similar mistake once, and I feel so much less alone.

I console them as they deal with medical issues the following winter.

We celebrate our one year anniversary by being bourgeoise for a day, getting afternoon tea in the city.

We talk about the political climate, how it feels less and less safe for us every day. I offer, without claiming them monogamously, that if they wanted, I would be happy to marry them, if they thought marrying a Canadian/French citizen and fleeing was a worthwhile plan.

They are deeply appreciative, comforted by the thought of getting to run away with me “Of course babes

I’m not going anywhere,

not for a long time”

Then, the unexpected occurs. Her nesting partner breaks up with her. It happens right after I leave her place one week, and I only hear about it two days later.

Two nights later, we talk. I hope to reassure her as she tries to process, as she recovers from having everything fall down around her.

I tell her how much I want to hug her, to hold her close, to do what I can to make everything feel better.

“Babe, I’m here

I’m not going anywhere

Not for a long time

I promise”

“But she said exactly the same thing”

My heart slowly sinks into the ocean in my chest, as my mouth tries desperately to find the right words, bring it back to the surface.

But there is nothing to say. The words mean nothing. I hopelessly search for better ones, but it’s no use.

Thankfully, things do get better.

I’m able to visit within the week, and my presence seems stronger than just my voice over the phone. My actions get to speak louder than my words.

I’m able to hold her. 

I can bring some food while she tries to cut back on expenses, as she looks for more work and new housing.

I get to bring her out of the survival mindset she slips into so easily, and help her remember that creature comforts are necessary for optimal functioning.

While I’m not there, it’s hard for them. But when I’m with them, they get to be their old self again.

They get offers for support from a friend, and from another partner.

I feel so sure that we will work everything out.

It’s all difficult still, the future is still uncertain.

But I know one thing.

I’m not leaving her

I’m not going anywhere

Not for a long, long time.

[heartstringsnheadspace]

How to Move Toward More Secure Attachment

Shifting from avoidant tendencies toward secure connection takes time and practice, but it is absolutely possible. Here are some strategies you might find helpful:

1. Recognize and Name Your Patterns

Awareness is the first step toward change. When you notice yourself pulling away, avoid judging yourself harshly. Instead, ask: “What am I feeling right now? What am I trying to protect myself from?��Naming the fear or discomfort—whether it’s vulnerability, rejection, or feeling smothered—can help reduce its power over you.

2. Practice Tolerating Emotional Discomfort

It’s okay to feel uncomfortable when opening up to others—it’s part of the process. When you feel the urge to withdraw, try to pause and sit with the discomfort rather than immediately acting on it.

Mantra: “It’s safe to express myself, even if it feels uncomfortable.”With time, you’ll realize that most of the fears you have about rejection or disappointment aren’t as overwhelming as they feel in the moment.

3. Communicate Your Needs (Even if it Feels Vulnerable)

A common avoidant tendency is assuming, “If I have to ask for support, it’s not worth it.” However, no one can read your mind, and people want to be there for you—they just need to know how.

Start small by sharing a little more than usual, even if it’s just saying: “Hey, I’ve been feeling off lately and could use someone to talk to.”Practicing this regularly will make vulnerability feel less threatening over time.

4. Reframe Independence vs. Connection

Being independent isn’t a bad thing, but relationships don’t have to threaten your independence. Try shifting your mindset from “I need to be self-sufficient” to:

“I can be independent and still let people in.”It’s okay to ask for space when needed, but it's also okay to lean on others occasionally without losing yourself.

5. Set Boundaries Instead of Withdrawing

If you feel overwhelmed by someone’s emotional needs, instead of pulling away entirely, communicate a boundary. For example:

“I really value our friendship, but I need a little time to recharge. Let’s catch up in a few days.”This prevents others from feeling confused or hurt by your absence and helps maintain the connection without sacrificing your emotional balance.

6. Revisit Your Emotional Landscape

If you’ve become used to minimizing or avoiding emotions, reconnecting with them can feel unfamiliar. Journaling can be a great way to explore your emotions—ask yourself:

“What am I feeling today?”

“What’s underneath this urge to withdraw?”Allow yourself to experience and express emotions, even if it feels awkward at first. Over time, this helps build emotional literacy, making it easier to share your feelings with others.

7. Challenge Core Beliefs about Relationships

Avoidant attachment often comes with beliefs like “I don’t need anyone,” or “People will disappoint me if I get too close.” Start challenging these beliefs by looking for evidence that contradicts them.

Who in my life has shown me that they care?

What small moments of connection have felt safe or meaningful?Building trust in others starts with recognizing the positive connections you already have.

Learning to Trust Yourself and Others

At the heart of avoidant attachment is often a fear of vulnerability and loss of control. It’s okay if building trust and opening up feels hard at first. It takes time to rewire these patterns, and every small step counts. You don’t need to change everything overnight—simply noticing your patterns, allowing yourself to experience emotions, and making small efforts toward connection are all meaningful steps toward growth.

A Final Thought

It’s important to be kind to yourself on this journey. Avoidant patterns were your way of coping in the past, and they served a purpose—they protected you from hurt. Now, you’re starting to outgrow those patterns, and that’s a brave thing to do. It’s okay to take this process at your own pace. Change isn’t about becoming someone completely different—it’s about learning to embrace both your independence and your need for connection.

[wistfulwisp]

I’ve wanted to share this from my Reddit account to my Tumblr just to see if anyone else out there has any advice for this creative shift in me:

“Hey everyone! So, the title of this is kind of a lie — I’ve been a big-time reader and a small-time writer for a good portion of my life. I always read fantasy and my dad is big into figure drawing, fantasy worlds and writing poetry and a lot of the time I followed in his footsteps. Occasionally I’d write up characters or fantastical worlds or little scenes here and there, but I found that that spark would often go out and I’d often indulge in other creative interests like reading or music. (EDIT: that being said, it always interested me to write up characters and worlds and themes for them to explore, even if I drifted in and out of it.) It’s kind of that way for a lot of my creative “interests” — I tried things like embroidery but fell off the wagon and did the same thing with learning guitar. Basically, I find that I fall into these creative outlets that, for whatever reason, die off once the spark is gone for me. The only ones that have stayed really true are music (generally speaking) and writing.

After my fallout with more structured writing, I wrote poetry. A lot of poetry, years and years, books and books of it. Some of it good, others bad. Most of it I don’t like to look back on because a lot of it was about troubling times — I kind of found it as a way to escape or put those feelings away. My point being that writing has kind of followed me around in one way or another.

Now, due to a flood of good media I’ve consumed recently (namely Good Omens but also including The Road, the video game Night in the Woods and Studio Ghibli movies) I’ve had an urge to write like I never have before. And, I’ve had such a huge urge to pull back into the more structured writing style I pulled away from years ago — creating characters and worlds with themes, stuff I often wouldn’t do in poetry because I’d make my poetry much less of a constructed narrative.

So, I guess that’s the backstory to it, and now I have this spark that I don’t really wanna let go of this time. I know eventually it’ll dull and be gone, but I kinda wanna chase it for as long as I can and hopefully make a habit out of it — a long-term passion, place of comfort and to see actual progress come out of it. Kind of a “now that I have it I don’t want to let it go entirely” idea. Has anyone here had experiences like this? If so, how do you keep the momentum going even after that initial “eureka” moment has passed by?

I’ve also found that the idea of creating these worlds can be intimidating to me, or creating cohesive narratives become too expansive for me to be able to fully grasp or be in control of. How do you expand from one idea to the next in a structured way? How do you formulate your ideas? Do you find it’s easier to have one idea and expand on it from there or do you have a whole slough of ideas that you try to patch together into one cohesive narrative? I know so many of these things can’t be contained in a box so that’s just more for my curiosity — I think right now I’m in a place of excitement to start something new but understanding that I have to make some sort of a plan or a foundation to keep it going. So, any advice would be greatly appreciated, thanks guys.”

[brightymir]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 [ 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬 ]

cw: none, i think

word count: 1k

characters: satoru, kento, suguru, x gn!reader

𑁍 satoru gojo

satoru was on the couch, playing on his phone while waiting for you to finish some paperwork, he doesn't want to start the movie without you. he would pop his head in your room every 10 minutes to check you, but he got tired so he opted to just waiting.

moments later, you finally finished and when you went to the living room, you saw a satoru who was already scanning movies. you went to the kitchen to grab some snacks and drinks to last you for the entire movie.

returning to the living room, satoru engulfed you in a hug as soon as you took a seat on the couch, finally settling on a movie to watch for the day. 

you both watched the movie, lying in each other’s embrace and arms, occasional comments on how dumb the character is to not notice the killer or how you both agreed that he was the first one to die in a horror movie and you’d turn out to be the murderer.

in the middle of the movie, you got a sudden urge to kiss him, so that’s what you did. planting a kiss on his cheeks, you smiled and felt warm inside, he doesn’t activate his infinity around you.

upon feeling a kiss being planted on his cheeks, he froze and smirked, taking his eyes away from the movie momentarily to give you a playful stare. he then straightened his back, letting go of you. 

you thought he was annoyed that you pulled him out of the movie, but you quickly shook that thought away when your back was met by the soft cushion of the couch. a rather large figure hovered above you. 

you expected kisses all over your face but nothing like that came. instead. fingers found their way to your side as he began to tickle the life out of you. you thrashed and laugh, heaving for breath as all the laughter was beginning to tire your lungs.

he stopped when your face was a mixture of red from too much laughing and blue from the lack of breath. he then planted kisses all over your face before wrapping you in his arms. 

“wait so, who’s the killer again?”

“i think it was the adopted child” 

“oh my god, that’s terrible”

𑁍 kento nanami

he was sitting on his desk while fixing some paperworks that he needed to finish before the day ended while you were in the kitchen, fixing dinner for the two of you. after a few minutes, it was done and you called for him.

with no response, you went up to the second floor to coax him to take a short break, dark bags appearing under his eyes from sleepless nights.

arriving at his room, you entered and sauntered to his desk, where his head was buried by stacks of paper. you took a file folder that he was about to reach and removed his eyeglass before planting a kiss on his temple.

"dinner's ready, love. i cooked your favorite" you said, making him stand up immediately and hold your hand, making your way towards the dining area. before digging into the food, you kissed him yet again, this time, on his soft cheeks

after the meal, he offered to do the dishes but you insisted that he just take a seat in the living room and watch a movie to unwind and take his mind off the pile of papers.

you finished moments later and accompanied him, planting a kiss on his cheeks. he noticed that you were giving him more kisses than usual. he took this as his cue to cuddle you while watching the movie. !

"you don't have to kiss me repeatedly, you can just ask for cuddles, darling" he said, planting a quick kiss on your lips.

"hmm, my kiss seemed to work though. and it seems to ease your stress" you replied and pressed your body closer to his, making him hum in return.

you both turned your attention back to the movie while giving comments here and there, sharing thoughts on what could've made the scene better.

"anne hathaway is really beautiful"

"not as much as you are"

𑁍 suguru geto

he already noticed that you kept giving him random kisses since early in the morning. it was totally out of nowhere and there was no occasion nor concise reason for the kisses. he isn’t complaining though, if anything, he’d gladly accept more.

but he knows well that you have your own reason for these kisses and he was itching to know why. are you pissed off? did he do something to upset you? did he forgot any occasion or event? he was racking his mind for reasons and it was your kiss yet again that brought him back to reality. 

“something on your mind? the water is on the hottest setting" you said, signaling to the sink that was smoking because of the hot water being used to rinse the plates. you wrapped your arms around him, resting it on his stomach.

he hummed and sighed inwardly, relaxing into your touch and finishing the dishes quickly. he stiffened when you pressed a kiss to his nape. you won't stop pressing kisses randomly, huh?

upon finishing the dishes, he turned around and hoisted you up by the legs, placing you on the counter before leaning on you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as you ran your hand through the smooth strands of his hair, which is freed from its bun.

"hmm? what's the matter, hon?" you asked, no response. you lifted his head so that his eyes met yours and you asked again, more firm yet still gentle.

"it's just, you keep giving me random kisses" he replied sheepishly, returning to hiding in your neck, making you laugh.

"do you not like it?" you retorted and smiled when he littered kisses all over your neck, a silent reply of "i love them", and so, he lifted you up and brought you to your shared room before browsing the tv for movies.

he clicked on a familiar movie, making you snort and laugh as he gave you a playful glare.

"this movie again?"

"hey, that card trick in that one scene was insane"

author's note: first attempt at writing the jjk men with fluff. oh my god i'm sorry if i'm bad with characterization but i hope you guys liked this! notes and reblogs are highly appreciated! also, can you guess which movies you watched with them?

© 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐑 2021 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms. thank you.

[gothicprep]

another thing related to my gripes about internet reporting from people who aren't all that committed to understanding this stuff: something can be morally repugnant and still mischaracterized. both things can be true, and as a journalist, you have a responsibility to be faithful to the truth, even when it's messy.

reporting on the kiwi farms is a good example of this. i won't deny that this website is purely degenerate – not in the maga way, in the way that normal people off the street would likely find the content there to be immorally cruel. but, as someone who's lurked it heavily over the past 6 odd years, the bulk of it is just extremely mean gossip. and i don't really understand where the "it targets trans people, especially trans poc" thing came from, given that most of the kiwi's lolcows are white, and the prevalence of transgender thread-havers rose relatively proportionally to more people coming out broadly. not all of the threads have dox info, and things get even more complicated when you look into the suicides that are allegedly connected to the forum.

julie terryberry is probably the strongest case you could make for kiwis playing a role in her suicide, given that she was aware of her thread and occasionally monitored it. but julie was already exhibiting a lot of suicidal actions and behaviors before she had a thread made about her. her family was incredibly negligent, she had a history of sexual abuse and was violent towards her peers in high school, she was in an abusive, turbulent relationship with a gambling addict ten years older than her, and she hung herself after it fell apart. i don't think the kiwis gawking at her proclivity to share all of this, publicly, on facebook of all places, helped. but having read through the thread, the bulk of the posts are something to the effect of "she really shouldn't be disclosing all of these gory details about her personal life online" and urging her against doing that. it's tragic beyond words for someone to be dead at 19. but, at least in my opinion, she was in a situation where everyone around her was opposed to intervening in a way that would have made a difference for her. when her grandmother threatened to kick her out, she looked for housing on fetlife of all places. some was really, really wrong from the beginning. if you've listened to the "last days of august" podcast, this interplay likely sounds familiar.

but because the website is down and has been wiped from internet archives, you can't look and see this for yourself, which is a bit concerning in its own right. there's a lot of revisionist history online, and wiping the archive of an alleged "terrorist website" (it's a shitty place, but it was never that) isn't helpful.

harassment is also baked into the infrastructure of the entire internet, which is a fact that people don't seem to want to acknowledge. the "main character of the day" on twitter applies neatly this. twitter doesn't have a lot of user growth, and its model is contingent on the existing base using the service as much as possible. trending topics facilitate incalculable harassment on a scale much larger than the kiwi farms were ever capable of. to me, this is much worse. it's also a problem without an easy solution. should the internet have more of a barrier of entry? should it be less centralized? if so, how would that be accomplished? the reality of all of this is that these questions are very difficult to answer, and a superficial understanding of the digital world doesn't make us more equipped to figure it out. if anything, it just neuters our ability to do so. "get rid of the Website Whom Is Bad, certainly this will solve all our problems."