#this was overly complicated and im sorry!

[asinglegrainofsandv3]

Long and personal post, im just being emotional about Star Trek, don’t mind me

Watching Star Trek made me and my Father’s relationship even better because not only can he share more of his interests with me but we use ST metaphors when having communication issues and it really helps.

Being Autistic myself, and my father being Autistic and ADHD, him being diagnosed with ADHD at 43 and still not a solid Autism diagnosis and me with my diagnosis in high school… well it’s difficult to connect sometimes because we have vastly different assumptions regarding human behavior.

As far back as I can remember, my father distanced himself from humanity, separated how others act and how he acts. He tried to instill the same mindset in me (now I know it was his way of coping/masking), the idea that we are separate. We think better, we are more intelligent than the average person, we understand the wider scene of things and moral applications more.

A week or so ago, when he was having one of his “my body is different than humans, I don’t need xyz emotionally” moments, I compared him to Spock. He paused, thought it out, and agreed with me.

Yesterday, he confided in me that he feels like ‘Spock, if Spock was born on Earth’ and I understood more of what my father has been going through than I have ever before.

[sforzesco]

Maybe Crassus and Metrobius should get some time off to sit and talk shit about Sulla

honestly, the romantic in me doesn't think they'd have anything to talk about. what sulla did with crassus is not exactly 'talk shit with a lover who has always held sulla's affection,' material imo.

in my mind, pompey and crassus have definitely talked around it since both of them had formative sulla related experiences that left it's mark on them (but only like. once. very early in the morning. parking lot at 1am after you've been awake for two days trying to finish your finals style conversation) but if metrobius wanted to talk shit about sulla, I think he'd like. turn to sulla's wife, or someone else who has a similar baseline of affection

[starlooove]

And on another note despite what I’m focusing on I do think it’s abhorrent to assume everyone who voted for or supported Harris is chill with genocide like yeah that’s like. What blew up online that tori maya shit was stupid as fuck but due to the disorganization and lateness of this campaign there was REAL misinformation being spread especially to our elders by ppl misconstruing info and a large number of ppl genuinely RIGHT NOW believe she’s pro Palestine called for a ceasefire etc. Like that’s a big chunk of the issue happening rn - where ppl literally made up policies for her or suddenly fell for “neutral” talking points bc it’s on someone they like and spread that. Like idk I feel like until everyone can be honest and humble nobody’s getting anywhere

[ijustcamefortheships]

As I'm currently binging the Friday the 13th movies I just want to share that I now 100 percent get why there is a Freddy vs jason movie. Like jason may look like your average slasher along the lines of Micheal Myers, but jason is literally Thee undead immortal bitch. Like I'm sorry but Micheal is a lil bitch compared to my boi jason. Ole hockey mask has been killed, resurrected, sent to hell, and murdered in the distant future and Manhattan. He cannot be killed and I just think he is so funny when he moves his victims corpses around to fuck with people. I am forever a jason stan.

[theandrosaur]

i cant believe i just found u, ur art is so stunning <\3 will u please grace us with the divine knowledge on how u choose ur colors? 👼🙏💛

Colors is the main thing I work on and struggle with so I am actually not an expert about it, but I'll give you tips that helped me a lot. I did some more art school years since you asked this edvhsu  🌿Viewer’s eyes are attracted to human shapes and to the brightest part of a picture.

🌿Shadows are never black, but take the colors of the atmosphere.

🌿Light going through an object gives it more saturated colors. It is called SubSurface Scattering.

🌿Saturating the border of your shadow in a reddish tint is a life hack.

🌿Colors reflect on every surface they are near, more or less depending on how much they are lighted.

And if I had some personal notes to add:

🌿I now stick to monochromatic color palettes mostly, and if I want to go wild I add one or two touches of other colors. I find it more confortable.

🌿I try to pay more attention to values and greyscale, because composition through values is very important. Also I never contrast my paintings enough and it shows.

🌿Artistic takes like random blotches of colors, rim light, or chromatic abberation add spice to whatever you do. I took the habit to use it since it is easy flexin. Though I use it a lot less recently.

🌿Contrast greyish colors with adding saturated colors of the same value next to it. I love the effect it gives.

[ace-milo-thatch]

some highlights from the time i looked for animashes with milo

it was. a time

[whomturgled]

i have so many feelings and i hate it

[bogos-bint3d]

The overthinkerrrrrrrrrr

[chrissy-kaos]

Hi 👋🏻 welcome to my blog! I’m Chrissy. I’m a 35 year old woman of transgender experience. I’ve been on HRT for 4yrs and I had BA 4/26. My story is a bit more complicated than most. I was born intersex (google it) and AMAB. I have AuDHD. For those of you that don’t know what that is. It’s Autism and ADHD. With that I also have bipolar depression. I can be a bit harsh, irrational and get irritated extremely easy. So be patient and if I offend you I’m sorry. Now that you know little about me. I have some rules for my blog. I’m sorry if you don’t like that but that’s the way it is.

IM NOT A SISSY, IM NOT YOUR FETISH

Please do not ask me for free pics. I’m happy to sell content to anyone. You can pay just like everyone else. This is how most of us pay for our transitions. It’s extremely hard and expensive.

Do not tell me what to post. This is my blog, I’ll post what I want. That means I’m not going to post overly explicit content. I’ve been threatened by staff to many times. I’m on thin ice and I don’t want to get canned.

Umm feel free to dm me. Tho keep in mind I get a lot of messages. It takes time to answer. Sometimes I just don’t feel like it. But I try. If you do want to chat

Please don’t send a dick pic. I’ll block you.

This is my main. I have a second blog, and that's @chrisssy-kaos More explicit content is posted there. You can be thirsty on that blog. I do have an onlyfans. It’s explicit content. I post regularly. If you like what you see here. You might want to check it out.

https://onlyfans.com/chrissy-kaos

Check me out on instagram!@christina_kaos

If you see my content anywhere outside of Tumblr, Instagram or OF it’s not me. I only have these three accounts.

I can’t stress this enough. Please don’t ask me where I live. I’m not going to tell you. It will get you blocked.

DO NOT REPORT OR LABEL MY CONTENT. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE IT BLOCK ME.

Absolutely NO “goddess” or “mistress”. That’s not for me.

DNI

Under 18 🔞

Chasers

Religion of any kind

Hard drugs (meth,crack,fentanyl,etc.)

Terf/Radfem

Nazis/Fascists

ABDL

Blank profiles

If you have a fetish please keep it to yourself. Unless you’ve asked and we’re both in agreement to talk about it. If not please keep it off my blog.

And lastly I reserve the right to block anyone I want for any reason. I don’t give warnings.

For those of you that made it this far thank you. Please enjoy my content!

[baalzebufo]

HIII. can i just say. absolutely ADORE your gravity falls stuff!! i'd love to hear more of your headcanons (especially abt gideon) (that's my SON)

yes yeeees i was part of the Original Wave of Gideon Enjoyers back when like, episode 4 aired and it was about ten blogs who didnt hate his guts. i mean, i still want to throw him out a window, but I also think he has really interesting character stuff going on that some people just didnt wanna look at bc they hated him! which like, fair, he's a villain, but that freaky little dude will always be one of MY faves, haha

this post got. very long im sorry I had to put a readmore here haha but I haven't had an excuse to infodump about this for ages so here's a couple Things I like Thinking About... also a doodle I did the other night to break up the wall of text below

ok ok to start i LOVE him so much as a foil to dipper (and to an extent ford too) as examples of what the journals/that kind of power and information can do to people. its why im so adamant that he does actually have albinism, even if its not Technically Canon. dipper and ford both have a like, 'physical oddity' about them (birthmark, sixth finger) i think it makes sense for gideons to be his albinism as something that set him apart. all three are 'weirdos', were ostracised to an extent by the world, had that longing for something special or important, and then found it. and its what they DO with that which sets them apart

especially as a foil to dipper like... from time to time in the show, he gets a bit gung-ho about abusing the journals power for his own gain. but he has friends and family to reign him back in. he has more of a moral compass about not wanting to hurt people, generally. dipper never became like gideon did

this is getting into headcanon territory here but, my general summary of gideons childhood is an isolated one. only child, fairly sheltered, had some medical complications early in life which led to a lot of time on his own in hospital, attended school briefly and was subjected to significant bullying. and without a real support network outside of his parents who were very doting to the point of spoiling him because hes their Little Miracle he wasnt exactly well-adjusted even as a kid

but basically, that kid ends up finding this journal and learns about spells and evil artifacts and suddenly he has the power to make people like him. not only that but Fear him. he goes from feeling powerless to an absolute ego-trip. and his only close relatives would never tell their little boy 'no' about something, so they're not disciplining him in any way. its a perfect storm for a disaster to happen

it stems from this childish desire to go 'look at me im important and special and everyone likes me' and hes become so embittered already by people being dicks that he doesnt care if he hurts people on the way

that only really changes when mabel shows up and is the first person in town to approach him from a like... normal level. shes nice to him but not in the overly-saccharine and doting way his fans are, just in the way a girl who wants to be friends is. she treats him normally and is nice and he thinks she's pretty and that ALSO becomes a perfect storm of 'well shes nice to me and i like her so i must be in love with her and she is with me!' and, of course. kid who has never heard the word No before. so the later rejection becomes a HUGE sticking point and grudge to the point of being flat-out murderous

later in life with a little Introspection i think he'd realize it was less love and more just. basically imprinting on the first person to be normal and kind at him in years

UM. I should wrap this up i have so much in my brain. gideon was one of my earliest roleplay muses i'd write and draw with my pals, so I subjected him to a LOT of personal characterization stuff and also making a thousand AUs for fun. (aus always come in two flavours either its 'im going to make you marginally more well-adjusted' or 'im going to make you so, SO much worse')

ive got a soft spot for con-men and fake psychics and generally shitty little weasels and gideon just stormed into the show being a jerk with an aesthetic i adore and i was like ahhh. i want to punt him. hes my favourite.

ok im going to shut up now. last minute headcanon. gideon got into wood carving in prison art therapy because using a knife to stab something in a non-murder way helps soothe his urges. he whittles little people figurines

✨

[cambriancutie]

commissions open (may 2024)

more info below

hey everyone!! i'm opening character art commissions again! 40 usd. +5 for an extra character and +5 for a simple background(as shown above)

my general rules:

i will NOT do:

nsfw, pornagrophy (suggestive imagery is fine)

overly complicated designs

depictions related to views i dont agree with (ie. anything bigoted, incest,etc etc)

drawings of real people (sorry!)

animals/feral (can't draw em)

i CAN do:

anthros/furries

ships/canon characters/whatever

tbh im pretty okay with drawing anything if it doesnt make me uncomfortable. but don't be a weirdo about it!

i take payment ONLY through paypal at the moment, please dm if you want more info or youre interested:3 please note, i can only work on three things at a time

[nametakensff]

Relinquish Control (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

Sooo I wrote 5.8k of sickly sweet K/im x H/arry whump following on from this fic (though you don't need to read it)

K/im inevitably catches J/ean's cold from H/arry, but ends up feeling a lot worse than anyone had bargained for. Caretaking ensues 💕

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, ongoing bg M/M/M, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, cold sneezes, spray, handkerchiefs, sneezing on someone's face, nose blows, mentions of mess (nothing graphic), contagion, fever, coughing, v whump heavy fic, lots of sappy feelings and caretaking, mentions of sex, mentions of erections because H/arry is insatiable

CW: Unintentional contagion with unintentional complications, K/im develops a chest infection, H/arry has a lot of self hatred, K/im has control issues, language mentioning animal death because J/ean is hyperbolic as fuck, all these men are emotionally damaged and immature in their own ways but trying their best anyway

NSFW - Minors DNI!

“I’m so, so sorry I got you sick.”

Harry gently pushed Kim’s sweaty hair back from his forehead, biting his lip in concern as the Lieutenant shivered at the contact. The fever had left his skin overly sensitised – even the slightest touch seemed to cause him discomfort.

“Harry, it’s okay. Honestly.”

Kim peered up at him, bleary eyes seeming especially bloodshot and vulnerable without the regular framing of his thick spectacles, mustering up a tiny smile that made Harry’s heart ache. This was all his fault. He’d fucked around with Jean when he was sick, he’d gotten himself sick, and then he’d gotten Kim sick. It had been as stupid as it had been wonderful, for the first couple of days. He’d taken a sick day and Kim had done the same, even though neither of them really needed it – they’d fucked within an inch of their lives and cuddled up with tea and tissues afterwards.

Of course getting the opportunity to indulge in such kinky, nasty, fantasy tier sex had been too good to be true. Harry was already on the mend, and Jean was almost entirely healthy – but Kim was another story altogether. Whether it was the recent stress of his transfer, the lingering physical and mental impact of the case in Martinaise, or plain old bad luck - what had been a simple, albeit nasty head cold for Jean and Harry was now shaping up to be a miserable chest infection for him.

Harry could feel his expression shifting into a countenance so pained he was grateful Kim’s eyesight was bad. He didn’t want to cry, but he felt so guilty and so useless in the moment it was feeling like an inevitability.

Apparently Kim’s eyesight wasn’t poor enough to misconstrue the pure misery etched onto Harry’s face – or he was already an expert at reading his supreme moodiness, like he had a built in barometer specifically attuned to Harry’s idiosyncrasies. He reached a weak hand out from under the veritable cocoon of bed sheets and squeezed his wrist.

“Harry. Really. It’s not your fault. I’ve been overdue something like this.”

His hand dropped limply back onto the bed. It was horrible, seeing Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi in such a state. To Harry, he was a knight in shining armour. He had seemed indestructible. He was beginning to see what Kim had meant about his putting people on pedestals, but all the same - Kim was strong, organised and composed. Harry just hadn’t been able to mentally picture him ever looking quite so unwell. ‘Weak’ and ‘Kim’ felt like antonyms.

Even if technically, yes, it wasn’t his fault Kim’s cold had worsened so dramatically, he’d still given it to him. He’d still reaped the benefits of all the sneezing, all the ground-shaking fetish sex Kim had indulged him in. He was itching to pour his heart out and lament about how truly awful he was, how irresponsible and insatiable he had been, but there was something else he was begrudgingly learning. People do not like to listen to overly self-indulgent, narcissistic proclamations of self-depreciation. Even for the ever-patient Kim, there were limits. He would not make this about him. He was trying to change.

And so, Harry merely swallowed back the guilt and the tears against the lump in his throat. He cupped Kim’s cheek in his palm, chest blossoming with warmth as Kim sighed and let his head loll sideways and into the contact.

“Do you need anything else? Seriously, is there anything more I can do for you? Just say the word and I’m on it.”

Kim was still burning hot to the touch, even after the assistance of a cool compress. It occurred to Harry that he was now seeking the relative coolness of his palm – which was worrying, considering Harry ran hot on a normal day, and his temperature was still a little elevated from his own lingering cold. At least his sneezing had stopped – he didn’t want to trigger Kim into more sneezes of his own, not with his throat as swollen and sore as it was. He never thought he wouldn’t want Kim to sneeze – at least not this early into their fumbling speed-run of a relationship. He wasn’t so delusional as to deny they didn’t still thrill him – he was a greedy, selfish man – but he could wait.

“Mm. No. I’m…fine.”

He wasn’t. They both knew he wasn’t, but Harry thought perhaps it occurred to Kim that admitting how poorly he actually was would be the final straw, the tipping point into relinquishing all control. And what could be more terrifying than that?

~~~~~

In the early stages of his cold, Lieutenant Kitsuragi had been sneezing and marginally lethargic – but, for all intents and purposes, not all that different from his regular self. When he’d started to feel worse - genuinely unwell - he had withdrawn. He’d been short with Harry in the office – he’d been short with everyone, his normal taciturn composure beginning to crack, and with it, his professionalism. Everyone had quickly given him a wide berth, which Harry could see he hated despite practically manufacturing the situation for himself in the first place. He’d called out sick on Friday, ignored Harry’s calls all weekend, and when Jean confirmed he’d called in sick a second time on Monday, Harry had been practically climbing the walls with anxiety.

Kim wasn’t answering his latest calls, every nervous one of them made hourly from his desk. The palpability of his anxiousness was concerning to both himself and everyone around him - he looked pathetic and desperate. He was pathetic and desperate. Jean kept casting him contemplative glances all morning before he eventually took pity on him.

“Go see if he’s okay. I’ll cover for you this afternoon.” He’d offered as he and Harry sat eating lunch in the communal kitchen.

Harry had looked up from where he’d been picking dejectedly at his sandwich, eyes round and glossy enough to put to shame any orphaned puppy.

“Really? Is that okay?”

“Listen, Shitkid. Life is a joke and as such, you're my superior officer. You don’t need my permission to check in on your boyfriend – a valuable member of our unit, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Harry smiled at him, delighting in the sheepish way Jean couldn’t quite maintain eye contact with him. He deduced that Jean was also feeling somewhat responsible for Kim’s misery - being patient zero, as it were.

“You’ll be alright? I’ll come back as fast as I can.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t bother. Just go.” Jean nodded. “I can’t watch you play with your food like that any longer. You look like a fucking box of kittens just got set on fire right in front of you.”

Harry jumped to his feet in an instant.

“You’re the fucking best, Vic.”

Jean halted him with a strong arm around his middle before he shot out of the room, forcing a soft ‘oof’ out of him.

“Take your sandwich with you. People who don’t obtain most of their calories from booze actually eat food instead.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“Rich coming from the depressed masochist subsisting off of coffee, cigarettes and the occasional chicken breast, but okay.”

Jean scoffed and rolled his eyes but otherwise didn't take the bait. Harry snatched his sandwich up from the table, feeling warm and grateful. His partner’s words were biting, but his concern for his well-being and the obvious pleasure he had in knowing that Harry was maintaining his sobriety were loud and clear - if you knew how to look past the guarded, gruff exterior. He waved at Jean as he hightailed it out of the joint, practically running the rest of the way to Kim’s apartment block.

Winded by his frantic ascension of the building’s winding staircase, he probably overdid it with the pounding on Kim’s door – no, he definitely did, on reflection. It was just that with the lack of immediate response following all those missed phone calls, his mind was conjuring up every worst-case scenario in the book. To say he was overwhelmed with relief when Kim finally started to open the door was an understatement.

He’d been grinning in gleeful anticipation at finally coming face to face with the Lieutenant, but his expression promptly fell as he took in the sight of Kim - shaking, sweating, miserably unwell. He looked as though he barely had the strength to stay upright, let alone pull open the door.

“Harry, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

If Kim looked bad, he sounded even worse. In fact, he sounded as though he’d been gargling with razor blades. Harry winced.

“Oh my god, Kim…”

Kim huffed out a little laugh, both amused and insulted by the naked dismay directed at his person. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly overtaken by an intensely violent and hacking coughing fit, gripping the door frame like a lifeline as he angled his face away from Harry with a fist pressed up to his mouth. It was a horrible cough, chesty and audibly painful. Within seconds, Harry was manoeuvring the door shut behind them as he stepped into Kim’s apartment and ushered him, still coughing violently, back into his bedroom.

The room stank of illness – that distinct, cloying scent of unhealthy sweat and misery. Kim was still going, gasping for breath with desperate little snatches of air between the coughs that racked his slender frame. Harry sat down on the bed beside him, stroking his back and biting his bottom lip so hard it almost bled.

Finally, some agonising moments later, Kim managed to stop. He sat there, slumped forward and breathing in a careful, measured fashion. Harry reached for the half empty glass of water on Kim’s bedside table and handed it to him wordlessly, cringing as Kim choked a couple of times at the sensation of the liquid trickling down his raw throat. When he managed to avoid triggering another attack, both men practically deflated with relief.

“Thank you – sorry.” Kim delicately wiped his lips with the back of his hand, letting Harry take the glass back off him.

“Kim…how long have you been feeling this bad?”

Kim looked at him, and Harry realised that he was sans glasses. His hair, normally slicked back, hung loose in a messy shock over his forehead, and his face was unshaven, several days of stubble growing in alongside his standard pencil moustache. His nostrils were chapped, pink and raw. Harry would have found his dishevelled appearance painfully attractive were it not for the overwhelming concern that was currently squeezing his heart in a vice-like grip. Kim sighed.

“Since Saturday evening. I was hoping it would go away on its own, but-!”

Harry swore and reached out to support him as Kim was cut off by another round of coughing, mercifully shorter than the previous attack but still leaving him shaking against the larger man when it finally released him.

“Fuck…” Kim muttered. He burned under Harry’s touch.

“Shhh – I’m gonna get you some water, and some tea, okay?”

“Harry – you don’t need to, I can- “

“Kim.”

Harry almost shocked himself with the authoritative tone with which he silenced the Lieutenant. Thank God for the gift of his irrepressible (and irresistible) masculinity - it ever so occasionally came in clutch for him. Kim shut his mouth and didn’t seem pissed off in the slightest that Harry had cut him off. He looked at him expectantly, like a dog awaiting a command. That alone was as clear an admission of illness as any to Harry.

“I know I don’t need to do anything.” Harry started. “But I want to. You could have called me. I was calling you. You’re – you’re really sick right now.”

Kim huffed.

“I’m not that sick.”

“Sure, and I’m Dolores Dei herself.”

“Hm.”

If Kim had been even the tiniest bit more prone to immaturity, Harry was sure he would have rolled his eyes at him.

“Will you please get back into bed and let me help you?” He patted the bed behind them, inviting Kim to crawl back into it. “You help me all the time.”

“I’ll let you help me when I actually need help.” Kim rasped, but dragged himself back under his duvet all the same. Harry watched him, the undignified crawl of defeat paired with the stubborn backchat causing him to reassess his recent impression of Kim as an obedient dog. No, he was instead a recalcitrant cat – if he’d had a tail, it would have flicked back and forth with displeasure as he nestled into the sheets. The thought was endearing, and almost comical enough to make him laugh.

Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi was, in fact, a huge, stubborn baby when sick. This was a delightful new discovery which made Harry both despair and rejoice in equal measures. He’d had years of experience (only some of which he could actively recall) of Jean vehemently denying affection and assistance when he needed it the most. Hell, he himself was an expert in pushing people away whilst simultaneously (and paradoxically) demanding their perpetual assistance. Kim, it turned out, was only marginally less emotionally constipated than either of them. The only thing for it was to match that stubbornness head on.

“There.” Harry crooned as he tenderly organised Kim’s duvet around him. “Doesn’t it feel nice being tucked in?”

Kim looked up at him with tired eyes. Harry could see that he was a conflicted mix of embarrassed and grateful. Good. This would be easier than anticipated. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and peppered Kim’s warm face with tiny kisses. He nearly died when the tickle of his unruly facial hair made Kim actually fucking giggle in response.

“You’re adorable.” He murmured against Kim’s mouth, stroking his cheek.

“Detective, I’m a 43-year-old police officer.”

“An adorable 43-year-old police officer.” Harry corrected, pressing a quick kiss to Kim’s chapped lips. His voice was nasal, nose miserably clogged – Harry didn’t want to deny him oxygen any longer than need be.

“You shouldn’t be kissing me.”

“Why the hell not?” Harry kissed him on the tip of his poor, red nose, melting as he watched it wrinkle and squirm in response. “I gave you this cold in the first place.”

Kim sighed. Harry did not like the way his chest seemed to wheeze.

“I fear it’s become something worse, at this point.”

“Yeah.” Harry frowned at him, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on Kim’s cheekbone.

Abruptly, he stood up, tossing his blazer into the corner of Kim’s room and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“I’ll be back in a minute. You just rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

~~~~~

Harry fumbled about in Kim’s kitchen, trying not to make a racket as he hastily put together a cup of tea. He also filled a pint glass with water, cursing under his breath as Kim began to cough from the other room - a nasty, punishing sound that seemed to go on and on. He needed to see a doctor, Harry thought. He’d breach the topic with Kim in a bit.

He'd helped him sit up in bed, first to drink some water, which Kim sipped gingerly. Harry could tell he was dreading every cough that threatened to burst out of him. He’d taken the glass from Kim and exchanged it with the tea, asking him to drink as much as he was able.

“Have you taken anything for this?” He asked, watching Kim with a worried frown.

“…Not since Saturday. I didn’t have a lot of medicine on me.”

‘I rarely need it’ went unsaid, but Harry heard it all the same.

“When did you last eat?”

“…Yesterday. I’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping, but…” Kim sighed, wincing as the tea rolled down his throat.

“Well, shit. I’m running out to get you meds and soup as soon as you finish your tea, okay?”

“Detective, you have a job.”

“Jean-Jean gave me explicit permission to come and check up on you. He told me not to bother going back today.” Harry grinned at him, pleased both by Jean’s leniency and the way Kim could no longer leverage work to get him to leave. Kim sighed.

“Honestly, you’re acting like I’m terminally unwell. I’ll b-be…I’ll be f’fi-hh!”

Harry’s eyes zoned in on Kim’s flaring nostrils in an instant. Despite it all, despite the concern, he couldn’t help the way that ominous catch of breath went straight to his cock, twitching briefly in his trousers in anticipation. Kim was unmistakably going to sneeze.

“Ohh, can you - !”

Harry took the mug of tea from Kim and placed it safely back on the bedside table. He watched through unblinking eyes as Kim’s eyebrows rose, mouth dropping open and revealing his pink tongue as it cupped itself in ticklish preparation of the sneeze to come. It really didn’t get old, watching Kim like this. His poor, reddened nostrils twitched devilishly against the cold-induced tickle, urged along by the warm vapours of steam.

He took in one final, sharp little gasp, briefly waving his right hand in front of his face before pitching to the side, away from Harry and into the protective cradle of that same hand. Harry reached out to place a strong arm around his trembling shoulders, half in support and half out of the raging desire to be touching him every time he sneezed.

“HgGK’TSSChh!! Hpt’TSCHGHHh!! Hagk’TSCHOOouuu!!”

They shuddered through him, the vibrations running through Harry in turn and leaving him to break out in an excited rush of goosebumps from head to toe. Kim was miserably congested, and the sneezes were much thicker, much more nasal than usual. The definitive sneeze of that violent little triple was deliciously desperate and vocally rich. Harry was almost entirely hard when Kim snuggled into him, snuffling into his hand and trembling against the crook of Harry's neck.

“Ough. Désolé.” He muttered, sounding entirely wiped out.

“Bless you, honey.”

The pet name rolled out of him so naturally that it took Harry a whole few seconds to realise that he had even used it at all. He tensed in sudden anxiety, kicking himself for the slip-up. Were they ready for ‘honey’ yet??

 When Kim didn’t pull away and instead snuggled even closer, he let himself relax, circling both arms around Kim and holding him for several moments. It was only when Kim sniffled again, keeping his hand securely over his nose and mouth, that Harry realised he’d probably made a spectacular mess of himself.

He pulled back, rubbing Kim’s back and looking around the room. It didn’t take him long to locate a handkerchief, half buried in the bed sheets, which he held out to Kim. The Lieutenant reached for it gingerly, uttering a small “merci” before skilfully obscuring his face from Harry and indulging in a quick nose blow. It was crackling and thick, but judging by the sound of it, not awfully productive following the initial few seconds. He sighed, swiping at his twitching nostrils for a couple of seconds longer before folding the handkerchief shut and snuggling back into the crook of Harry’s neck.

They sat together for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat.

“Ready for more tea?”

“Yes. God…I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Harry cooed, reaching out for the mug, helping Kim into position and nobly ignoring his throbbing erection.

~~~~~

After he’d finished his tea, Kim had been exhausted enough to fall asleep within minutes. Harry stood over his bed and watched him sleep for a while, feeling a little like an invasive creep but also finding no fucks left to give. Now that Kim was unconscious again, the all-consuming panic was returning.

He hurried through the store in a daze, buying an assortment of different foods and canned soup for Kim. He bought cough medicine, decongestants and tissues before saying ‘fuck it’ and buying a huge carton of orange juice for good measure.

Kim was still sleeping when he got back. As he set about making him soup he listened to him snore, the sound so congested even through the wood of his bedroom door that it made his chest ache.

Harry left the pot to simmer for a while, collapsing onto Kim’s sofa with a heavy sigh and dragging the palm of his hand up and down his face a couple of times in exhausted resignation. He wouldn’t let himself lie there for long, knowing any more than five minutes in a supine position was a dangerous game to be playing if he didn’t want to fall asleep for hours on end. The soup would be done soon enough, but the waiting was agony. He was happy that Kim was able to sleep but he just wanted him awake; he wanted Kim to reassure him that everything was okay. Stupid. Childish. He needed to snap out of it. He slapped his own face in reprimand and immediately regretted the power in his swing, cursing the sheer size of his palms.

His body jerked violently, suddenly, a terrible falling sensation. The shock of it had him scrambling to his feet. He’d been dozing off, exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid. He glanced frantically at the clock on the wall and was relieved to see that at most he’d been borderline moribund for no longer than 10 minutes – just enough time for the soup to be done.

He ladled a decent portion into one of Kim’s pristine bowls and helped himself to a spoonful. Not bad, he decided; the flavour could be a little stronger but Kim likely couldn’t taste much anyway. He placed it on a small tray with a clean spoon and another glass of water.

The domesticity of it all made him nervous as he carried the tray out of the kitchen; it was like he was a little boy again, nursing his first serious infatuation. He must have done things like this for Dora – unavoidable, in a relationship that long, and yet. Thoughts of her still ached. He pushed the blurry, blonde image away, replacing the vague outlines of her with a clearer impression of thick glasses and slick black hair. He would overwrite her, record over their memories together the same way he would have eventually recorded over their wedding tape – had he been good enough for her to marry in the first place.

Kim was still asleep when Harry entered the room and placed the tray gently on the bedside table, careful to avoid disturbing the Lieutenant’s glasses. He was facing Harry, but only partially visible, tangled up in the cocoon of his blankets. It was fucking adorable. He looked like the world’s weariest caterpillar. His mouth hung slightly open to accommodate his poor stuffy nose, painfully pink and nuzzling into the fabric of his bedding. Harry buried the devious thought of waking Kim up by teasing his sensitive nostrils into a sneeze, instead reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder.

The Lieutenant was an incredibly light sleeper normally, so when he hadn’t woken upon Harry’s entrance and only cracked open one bleary eye after twenty seconds or so of increasingly vigorous jiggling, it was another nail in the coffin of Harry’s soaring anxiety.

“Heyyy, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?” He smiled as encouragingly as he could muster at his sick boyfriend, who groaned and promptly launched into a lengthy coughing fit. Harry swore, helping Kim to sit up and stroking his back.

“Here, Kim, fucking hell…” He handed him the glass of water and the Lieutenant gulped it down greedily, panting when he was done. He was struggling valiantly to maintain an even breathing pattern between the warring hindrances of his blocked sinuses and tickly throat.

“Better?” He asked when he’d helped Kim relax back into the pillows he arranged between his back and the headboard.

“A little. Thank you, Harry.” Kim smiled at him. “I’m okay.”

That meek little smile was clearly manufactured for Harry’s benefit, and that only made it feel worse, somehow. Kim yawned into his duvet, one hand clutching the fabric to his face.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About an hour and a half.” Harry answered, turning to retrieve the soup. “I made you something to eat – wanna give it a go?”

He proffered the tray towards Kim, taking in his surprised expression with pleasure.

“Did you cook this?”

“Well, it’s canned soup, technically, but I tossed in a couple of things to spice it up.”

“You didn’t have to, you know. I could have done this much.”

Harry sighed, waiting for Kim to take the tray.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed, you stubborn ass.”

Kim flashed him an apologetic smile and took the tray.

“Sorry, sorry. And thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

“That’s better.” Harry huffed, adopting the authoritative tone he used to whip out whenever his high school students were testing him. “Now eat your damn soup.”

Kim grinned.

“Yes, sir.”

It took Kim an exceedingly long time to get through even half of the soup – he kept needing to cough, and Harry decided to permanently hold the tray in place for him whilst he ate. It was much easier than repeatedly leaning forwards and backwards in anticipation.

It was as he held the tray in place, angled over Kim’s lap and several inches away from his face, that Kim’s breath started to hitch. Harry barely had a second of recognition before Kim was swallowing frantically, dropping his spoon onto the tray a moment too late to be able to catch the desperate sneeze in the palm of his hand.

“Hah’AEGK’TSChhuu!!”

Harry shivered, eyes closing reflexively against the delicate smack of spray that misted his face. On the technicality that he was needed to hold the tray in place and prevent Kim from spilling the soup, he didn’t bother moving.  The second sneeze baptised him in much the same manner, barrelling out of Kim almost immediately after the first.

“hAGK’TISHHH’Uuu!!”

The brief hesitation as Kim sucked in air to fuel a definitive third sneeze allowed Harry to open his eyes, taking in the Lieutenant’s tortured expression, his damp, flaring nostrils stretching to their limits. Instinctively, he leaned even closer, watching as Kim’s face froze for a moment in a rictus of irritation before he was sneezing hard enough that some soup sloshed over the rim of the bowl. He had managed to bring up a hand last minute, but the covering was lazy at best, spray escaping through the gaps between his fingers and misting Harry again.

“hHH’GKKT’TTSschoouu!! Ugh, excuse me…”

He snuffled miserably, blinking away a few stray tears. Harry handed him a clean tissue, feeling giddy and electric but trying his absolute best to disguise it. He was doing a horrible job; he was entirely hard, painfully so, and he could feel the smug grin that parted his lips despite his best efforts to remain placid. He tried to subtly wipe his face clean with his shirt sleeve as Kim busied himself with blowing his nose.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” Kim asked suddenly.

Shit. He’d been even less subtle than he’d hoped. Harry winced and cast a guilty ‘well shucks, you got me’ grin his way, relieved to see that Kim didn’t look bothered in the least. If anything, the cheeky lilt of his voice and the smile that reached his eyes seemed to imply a sense of endearment and satisfaction.

“I did. Sorry. Bless you three times.” He wiped the spilled soup away with another tissue, offering out his hand to Kim to take his own used tissue and tossing them both.

“Mm, Thank you. No need to apologise, detective. It’s quite nice, you know. To feel desired at one’s most disgusting.”

“You’re so not disgusting right now. But trust me, Kim – I get it.”

They smiled at each other until Kim broke eye contact, reaching for his spoon and clearing his throat. Naked adoration, both giving and receiving, was still relatively uncomfortable for him - Harry understood this implicitly - but the tension of his mouth belied how much effort he was putting into repressing a most persistent smile. Noticing this just made Harry beam at him even harder.

~~~~~

To Harry’s dismay, Kim’s condition only seemed minutely improved after eating. He’d cuddled with the smaller man until he’d fallen asleep again, then pulled up KIm's desk chair and sat beside his bed, leafing through one of the Lieutenant’s books on Aerostatic Pilotage. It was good to distract himself like this as his boyfriend wheezed and snored several feet away from him. The endless stream of information that he filed away in the recesses of his brain was always a decent method of channeling his focus within the relative chaos of his noisy mind. Besides, it was much less destructive to overload his system with facts than substances. He tried not to think about the cooking wine he'd seen in a kitchen cabinet earlier.

A sudden whimper from the pile of bedding and limbs that was Lieutenant Kitsuragi had him mobile in an instant, hovering by Kim’s bedside as he groaned again, opening his eyes ever so slightly and panting for air. Before Harry even reached out to touch him he could feel that he was boiling, burning up as the heat radiated off of him. He was damp with perspiration, loose hair plastered to the skin of his forehead.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Kim turned towards him, eyes unfocused and glassy with fever. When he didn’t say anything, just peered miserably in Harry’s general direction, almost through him without the aid of his glasses and with the sickness fogging his brain, Harry had to dig his nails into his palm to prevent a full-blown panic attack.

“I’m gonna get you a cold compress, okay? Just hold on a minute.”

He scrambled round the small bathroom for a face towel before rushing back to the kitchen, filling a bowl with ice cubes and water. The bowl was too small and the towel a little too big, but it would have to do.

~~~~~

Kim’s attempts to convince Harry that he was fine eventually came to an end. As Harry cupped his cheek and lay beside him on the bed, adjusting the compress and supporting him through the occasional bout of coughing, the Lieutenant’s resolve finally broke.

“Harry…” He started, and before Harry’s eyes he seemed to physically shrink down into the bedsheets. It was as though the determination and stubbornness left him all at once, his energy positively depleted. “I feel terrible.”

Kim’s eyes squeezed shut. Harry didn’t know if he was cringing, humiliated by his own admission of defeat, or whether he was trying his best not to cry. It might even be that he had a migraine coming on. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered – all that mattered was making him feel better. His chest physically ached.

“Okay. It’s okay.”

He kissed Kim’s burning cheek, took one of his clammy, limp hands in his own and laced their fingers together.

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“I can’t believe you even felt the need to ask.”

“Mm…apologies. I’m not used to this.” Kim spoke gently, squeezing Harry’s hand softly, far too softly.

“What - being looked after?”

Kim smirked at him just a little.

“’I can’t believe you even felt the need to ask.’”

“Ha ha. Funny man.” Harry deadpanned, pressing their foreheads together, forcing Kim’s eyes to cross as he stared at him down the length of his nose. The Lieutenant huffed a small laugh against his lips, just as Harry had intended.

“Listen, being a lonely, touch-starved, middle-aged man is my shtick, okay? If you come for my gig like that I’ve got nothing.”

Kim closed his eyes and smiled against Harry’s mouth.

“Not even communism?”

“Political alignments alone do not a personality or archetype make.”

“So find a new archetype. Maybe the loving, doting boyfriend.” Kim muttered. “You’re doing a very good job of it right now. It suits you.”

Harry moved down to nuzzle his face into the crook of Kim’s neck. His skin was sweat-slick, hot, and smelled distinctly unwell, but it didn’t bother him. He wanted to bite down into the flesh and taste him. He wished he could physically crawl into Kim and live inside of him. The feelings that overwhelmed him brought stinging tears to his eyes.

“You think so?” He asked round the lump in his throat.

“I do.”

They lay there for a little while longer, jostled only by another round of coughing from Kim that urged Harry to prop him up in bed again. The change in position seemed to shift the congestion in his poor nose, and with it, triggered an irritating tickle. Harry watched in adoration as Kim’s expression twisted, then gasped softly as Kim turned and sneezed twice against the column of his throat.

“Hupt’TSHHUuuu!! HGKk’Tschoouu!! Ohh…”

He rubbed his runny nose against Harry’s skin, causing him to stiffen and moan in pleasure. Kim now had intimate knowledge of exactly how to drive him crazy, but he sensed that this particular, miserable little motion as his boyfriend attempted to quell the tickle in his nose was simply enacted out of sheer exhaustion, rather than any active desire to work him up. Somehow, it just made him even hotter – that Harry was simply a means to an end in that moment, a substitute for a tissue or a hastily raised fist to rub against his nostrils was – well. His pants were torturously tight.

“Bless you, baby. You poor thing.”

With all the willpower he could gather, he lay Kim down again and wiped his dripping nose clean with a tissue. He couldn’t help taking his time, luxuriating in the sensation of playing with his nose through the thin material. He swallowed back a groan when Kim’s nostrils flared wide, flexing under his fingers and pushing them apart. He didn’t sneeze again, for which Harry was grateful – that might have been the final straw before he was forced to sneak off and rub one out in the bathroom. Not that Kim would have minded, he was sure. Enabler.

“You should try and sleep now, okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna stay here until you’re out and then I’ll crash on your couch.”

“Do you need – there are no clean sheets –“

“It’s okay, Kim. There’s a throw blanket, and it’s getting warmer. I’ll be fine, honestly.”

Harry stroked his cheek, something that Kim seemed to like a lot. The Lieutenant nuzzled into his palm and hummed an affirmative. Harry clucked his tongue softly - he was still much too hot, burning into him.

“Gonna take you to a doctor in the morning, honey. You’re not well at all.”

“Okay.”

“You sure? Gonna let me drive you there? No complaints, and no apologies?” He teased, relaxing just a little bit when Kim’s lips twitched into a tiny smile.

“I’ll behave.”

“Good boy.”

[frankendykez]

What r ur oc stories about?

OMG HIHI I NEVER HAD SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF MY CURRENT FRIENDS ACTUALLY ASK BEFORE UMMMM OKAY SO. i have 3! main oc stories that i Really care about at the moment but im Deeply fixated on mainly 1 of them but im gonna start with the one ive been liek "promoting" the most in a sense!! under read more cuz im gonna try to exlain all three of them bless. sorry if i seem overly passionate oops i was TRYING to summarise im sorry its so long u rlly dont Have to read All of it

Forgotten Man's Symphony

his (louis manoir) character is basically a spin off from a character mentioned in the novel frankensetin exactly (1) time by name in elizabeth's letter and by far he is the most organised oc of mine cuz we do actually have a clean, understandable summary doc (thought it is a tad bit outdated but its okay). shes like the most Normal narrative-wise i suppose so i'm not exactly sure on how to explain the plot of forgotten man's symphony it's just like??? him ruining his life in front of the reader and then #Healing?? i guess?? the story is an epistolary that starts with louis' Suicide Letter. so like. yeah. BUT!! i suppose i would say his story very much concerns the concept of like identity (including gender and such she would be considred either transfemme/bigender by the modern world but also idfk cuz i made her complicated and confusing on purpose) and also the lack thereof + the negative impact that comes with trying so hard to fit into the societal norms and what people Want you to be but you just Can't be, cutting away bits of yourself to fit through some sort of hole representing the perfect version of you until theres nothing left of Who You Are expect a palatable and small version yk?? and the the endless pursuit of wanting to be loved that leads yourself to changing and changing for people who just wont care or love you for realsies + @rosaniruby 's words "making it even like that so its not YOU who is loving and being loved but the dim visage of a version of you that fits the picture of what society loves; that it's not a love between individuals, it's the love for a society that cannot ever love anything because it was made to hate. and who believes that portrayal of love will not find it and forever be stuck. smth like society loves what it deems as perfect and hates the imperfect, since perfect doesn't exist it can only do the second one. and louis wanted to love perfect victor, hated his own imperfect self. but the perfect victor doesnt exists, and neither does any version of louis."

i like her he's great. sorry if that was less telling u WHAT his story is and more like Explaining the "themes" as theyre called of the story but idrk how to describe nromal stuff so TAKE WHAT U CAN GET!!! anyways,

Domus Carnis: The Transmutation of Guinevere Manor

idk if you're aware but i have a hyperfix on architectural horror and i DON'T MEAN SCARY GHOSTS AND SERIAL ILLERS IN AN ABANDONED HOUSE I MEAN HAUNTED HOUSES THAT ARE ALIVE THAT IS A METAPHOR FOR PTSD FROM CHILDHOOD TRAUMA ETC ETC!! this story By making it started my whole obsession with the House it's crazy... scary even.. (i recommend you watch jacob geller's video essay about houses) i really do like domus carnis but it's. Messy to say the least. i do feel as if i ought to change the time period it's set in to avoid talking about the wars going on in the time period i accidentally set it in without realising but im procrastinating on that rn. it was Suppose to be late 1800s to early 1900s..

in a few simple words: flesh-and-bone made lesbian sex house. does that get your attention yet. bless

domus carnis (which literally means flesh house in latin or something) will be written in the POV of a 40ish year old widowed woman by the name of harriet wren's diary entries, occasionally switching to the POV of her 20-something year old godson percival who is like old timey jake paul and hes like either a journalistt or a radio host depending if i choose to change the time period or not. we follow them after harriet's husband dies of whatever and they find out he has a large property in a foreign country of which they had not known of prior

somewhere in germany there is a house of ex-aristocrats that no longer live there that is Alive. the House becomes alive because it is in a sense "possesed" (not haunted) the ghost of kathryna von guinevere who was the last one to die in the house, who, in life, was incredibly obsessed with The House for reasons that i fear are too long to explain without boring you and going into info pre-story?? anyways, when she "posseses" the house, the materials of the house shift to flesh, blood and bone because it Materially becomes her body. now, it would be hard to accurately label what represents what body part, because it's all strangely jumbled up and isn't like really human anatomy either cuz kathryna Can in fact see inside herself?? anyways whatever. now, the house is now both her body AND her mind. i have taken the phrase "haunted by memories/trauma" and turned it literal. the house IS haunted, but most of the ghosts aren't ghosts, theyre mostly all manifestation of Memory from her life because she actively is replaying the speech and actions of other people IN her mind to process the (typically traumatic) events of which she's seen or experienced. the ghosts CANNOT do as they please because they only exist at all Due to kathryna remembering them in these specific scenes. the hauntings include scenes of people, sounds, and shadows. unless the "scene" has a mirror, you cannot see kathy directly because you are witnessin things through HER eyes, which makes memories from wee childhood interesting because im wondering if i should make the "people" seem wayy bigger than the viewer if stuff is replayed from childhood..

i really like the fact that a lot of this is based on memory because it opens a lot of doors to me when it comes to the appearance of hauntings. my friend showed me this video depicting neurons forgetting how a face looks like, and i feel as if i could use that in the story because well, realistically kathy isnt going to have a Pristine memory cuz she Was just a human before, not to mention the fact shes already suppose to have issues on facial recognition/rememberance (my friend with these sisues suggetsed htis). the alteration of the ghosts' bodies could be fucked with even more if i try to make use and research into the way that people (mostly children) can in fact like.... change the image of something traumatic in their brain and make it less scary bc the brain is trying to protect them? yeah. AND ALSO the fact that a lot of people forgets certain aspects of their trauma due to their brain trying to protect them as well but still have this feeling of Unease when it comes o specific things that they cant explain, i could incorporate this feeling in certain areas of the House, the strange uneasiness. i experience that myself so i hope ill portray it right!!

i Think that's it?? at least that should be the bare bones of the story... i have a pin board tho if u want to check it out!!

The Epinicium

THIS is the stupid fucking thnag thats ruining my entire life rn. i love it i hate it whagever man. THIS ONE ill keep short and simple because im too fucking mentally ill about it to explain in depth without being asked questions

so basically its fantasy world but not like. Completely new high fantasy i very loosely based the countries off of like real countries and stuff bc lazy as shite so its like mid fantasy maybe HOWEVER

basically its set in this world where theres a shit ton of religions and gods and shit and theres three categories of religions (the world is veyr uhnm. Categorical idk): earth, science and the arts. basically the arts religions are the majority and the gods of those religions are called the muses so thats what i'll be calling them from now on. the basic plot of epinicium is about the muses of the music religion declaring that humanity doesnt treat music as "holy enough" anymore and taking it away as a whole (songbirds go extinct as well which is importnat) which also fucks up the other arts religionsdue to the fact that artforms are very connected but they still exist yk and centuries later our main cast attempts to bring it back!!! we have this server with a channel that has the "summary" but its not a real summary its just an already outdated infodump but we are Trying to fill this doc but we're failing really hard but friendship is magic idk.

fin.

anyways thats. pretty much it i think im sorry its too long once again 😭😭 feel free to ask question esp on the epinicium!! id love to hear abt ur ocs btw ive yapped so much oops

[kroosluvr]

hi!! as a fellow royal trio-truther ive been ADORING and loving your posts so much <3 you mentioned that you've like mentally re-wired shusumi so i was curious if you had a list of head-canons for how they develop in the game/post-game!! Im super curious to hear (: also any head-canons for the akesumi dynamic would be great bc I hate how little the game developed them together !!!

OMGGGGGGGGG HAYYYYYYYYYY ok so. first. look at this (idr if i posted this here already but if i did look again heh..)

ok now ill actually talk under the cut

note that some of this is headcanon territory bc i just be frolicking at this point

some backstory i fell in love w sumi as soon as her art was revealed i was like omfg peak design PEAKKKKKK i love her so much so i was really excited abt her but i feel like there were so many loose ends w her confidant and namely her crush on protag sometimes doing her a disservice (it turned ppl off from her (understandable bc i also dislike when writers make a female character out to be dependent on a male character) but also made other ppl weird abt her in the same breath....... shivers. people who overly-romanticize/sexualize mentally ill characters (especially girls/women) freak me out sorry

anyway that put me off frm p5 fandom for a hot minute. BUT regardless. i think people often focus on like "shy cute sadgirl kouhai crush-on-protag" for her which on top of atlus's.......mediocre handling of her also does her character a disservice... shes so multilayered!! she houses such insane convoluted levels of distress and fear and anger and reluctance and most of all STUBBORNNESS. i think her headstrong personality is not really emphasized in fandom but i can totally see it (maybe its just me but).

ok moving on to my shsm delusions i think to turn sumire's canon crush on its head i want to make them doomed to never get together. i think 3rd semester is so tense and high-emotion that royal trio are so deeply intertwined w each other:

like they all are mildly-to-a-lot suicidal so they hold onto each other so tightly to make sure none of them spirals and does anything bad. i think in the end they just want the other two to be Okay, even if they themself doesn't. if the other two are ok, then it's all good.

ok back to shsm LMAO i think seeing their relationship as like an odd high-emotion situation makes sense. they love each other, obviously, and provide each other comfort, but the idea of a relationship slips thru their fingers like water. is that right...? is that how it is? like i said up there they just crumble under the weight of their own love. tldr theyre in no place to "date" each other........ but they have their "almost." they're inseparable, they love spending time with each other, but knowing in the back of their heads that it won't last, and they'll have to leave it be one day. "sometimes when i really love someone i leave them alone forever." peak shsm to me. "let's run away together - but what if it's not enough? what if all of this fear and sadness still stays? i take a man down to the river and he throws away his sadness but hes still left with his hands, he's still left with the river (paraphrased richard siken). peak shsm to me. i think they try to treat eachother so softly and gently that it fucks it all up, actually. peak shsm to me. it's not codependency in the sense that theyre not trying to save each other - they're just trying to salvage out some love from it all. all of these terrible things that happened: there's still love, right? there's still love. but the pain can't all be sifted out, and everything still hurts. but they still love. (they just don't date or even talk to each other much after graduating and i think they talk to akechi but to each other its suddenly COMPLICATED. i hate these guys)

ironically i think if you throw akechi in the mix it stabilizes out and i think shuakesumi could totally have a happy married ending. but shsm as a pair i dont see endgame for them. peak for me is that theyre in love and then they spend the rest of their lives trying to forget each other (they don't)

(If this sounds ridiculous and stupid im sorry. i just like shoving too-many-emotions onto my favs sometimes (a lot of the time))

IN REGARDS TO AKESUMI i think my latest 2 comics describe how i feel abt them pretty well!!! link 1 and link 2. actually i think akesumi's friendship is a great way for me to explore how i see/portray/feel about sumire, because i see them as way more similar than the game pays attention to. they're both stuck in their ways: sumire in her cowardice, hiding from the incident and refusing to move on, and akechi entrenched in his own traumas and feeling like he doesn't deserve more than that. their self-hatred manifests in two opposite ways but its very similar at the core. they both like. have no fucking clue what they're doing in terms of handling their pasts so that's why i think them working together to get around their own respective traumas is so fascinating: akechi is terrible at it, pushing sumire too far, but at the same time that perspective is something that she needs. meanwhile, her sensitive and observant personality shows akechi that like, you can have This too: a soft, good love. to have someone care about you unconditionally, so gently. you deserve that, too. yeah i can explode my head off now

i did not proofread this.

[copepods]

fish commission post 3: the 3rd one

hi updating my comm info because my style's changed a lot, and with more commissions under my belt i know what people actually do and dont want to see me draw

that being said, rather than a variety of different style options, im lumping everything under 1 option, with the understanding that the price will vary greatly depending on complexity.

based on the examples below, the cheapest price would be $30 (4th image), and the most expensive would be $60 (5th and 6th images). generally anything you ask me to do won't be under $25, unless it's really simple and/or not colored.

however this doesnt mean ill refuse to do anything else! if there's something simpler like just a sketch, or even more complicated like a full rendered piece, dm me and we can work out a price!

Will Draw:

anthro

character reference sheets

artistic nudity

moderate gore

backgrounds

ocs

real people (that you know)

pets and animals

machinery (limited complexity)

simple backgrounds

ship art

Will Not Draw:

sexual content

overly complex backgrounds (cityscapes, detailed nature environment, etc)

very elaborate machinery

if there's something that doesn't appear on either of these lists that you're curious about, please ask!

i accept paypal and venmo primarily, but if you really can't use either of those dm me and we'll work something out! my standard practice is to ask for half the money up front, and the second half after the piece is finished*. depending on how busy i am, turnaround is anything from same-day to a couple weeks (sorry!) but i will send you periodic updates on how the piece is going and ask for any feeedback. please dont be afraid to ask me to redraw something if you don't like it, i'm always happy to!

*if the piece costs less than $25 i dont bother with this, you can just pay the whole thing after its finished

[silverskye13]

CRYING i want to look at the original art (& fanart) for R&S so much but i dont want to get spoiled because im still less than halfway through....... i love your writing so much it's got me in a good mood ever since i started it! (its not overly complicated and the words are all expertly placed, it's perfect for my binge reading!)

also i hope the pain goes away, im sorry it's been hard lately :(

Ah! Sorry for making your dashboard a minefield! Sometimes I wonder if I should spoiler tag things :'D

Just tagging things as redstone and skulk worked so well until it became the only thing I ever talked about whoops. The brainrot is real for me as a writer/artist as well.

I'm so glad you like the fic, and especially the writing style! I like trying write? Not informally exactly, but there's like a balance between informal prose and prose-poetry I like trying to hit, and sometimes it really feels like a tightrope. I'm glad its working for you :D

And thank you for the well wishes. My body decided to riot against me last week, but I think? I'm on the upswing? [Knocks on wood] At the very least my pain/discomfort levels have dropped from like, a 7 to a 2, so that's a win in my book!