#too many ideas in my brain and not enough time and ENERGY to make them into anything

[kamaluhkhan]

i should be working on my thesis. i should be grading midterms. but instead? instead im thinking about whether i should do a vi x reader hunger games au or buffy the vampire slayer au or spiderverse au.

[corpsepng]

I would be unstoppable if I had a coauthor or a muse or a person who wants to be my partner in creating

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[ynsvnte]

Cat lady !

Heeseung x fem!reader

genre: smut 18+ MDNI!!, hybrid au, established relationship, a bit of fluff — Synopsis: having a hybrid wasn’t so bad. Especially a cat.. oh how fun they were.

word count: 639

Warnings: rough sex, biting, cum eating, ddlg, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m and f), swearing, degrading, slapping. Mating press, riding, kissing

Masterlist

You scratch his back as he pounded harder into you. Screaming out loud. Pleasure taking over your body. His cock hitting your cervix you whined

“Go faster..” you begged, this isn’t enough for you, you craved more. More of this feeling. He always made you feel good. No one could replace him. His grip on your thighs were starting to hurt.

“Such a fucking slut..” he whispered into your ear, making you clench around him. You moan out loud not holding back. You don’t even care if the neighbors hear you both. He forces you into the mating press.. hitting the spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You felt yourself coming close. You close your eyes only to be slapped.

“Keep your eyes on me..” He threatened. Rubbing your clit.. he only increased his pace, he doesn’t take too long before unloading in you. Filling you up once again. You lost count how many times he came inside of you. Some seeping out. You feel his finger shove it back before picking some up and putting it right in front of you. “Lick my fingers..” you smile opening your mouth, allowing his cum covered fingers inside.. you slurp around his fingers.. enjoying the tangy taste.

He pulls his fingers around from your mouth.. before laying on the bed.. “Cmon sit on my face so I can eat that sweet cunt of yours” you obey him and lift yourself up each leg on the side of his head. Sitting on his face you moan.. enjoying the sensation. Heeseung is a messy eater.. sucking and licking your clit making you moan. You grabbed his cock stroking him.. Getting hard quickly you place his tip to your lips letting the pre-cum coat your lips.

You lick his shaft. You take him fully in your mouth as he eats you out. You moan around his cock, moving your head up and down. He slaps your clit causing you to jolt a bit. You gagged around his cock.. “Fuck such a whore.. my cock whore..” You try taking him even more, gagging around him. You pull away, a string of saliva detaching, you lick his balls before sucking on them.. you feel them tighten knowing he's getting closer.. as you suck him off you stroke him.

The sound of moaning filling up the room.. “Close kitty.. finna come..” He doesn’t last long, coming quickly you take him back in your mouth you moan. He laps your cunt trying to make you come in his mouth.. you sit up fully pulling away.. and ride his face eagerly chasing your orgasm. “Heeseung.. I-“ you were cut off by him slapping your ass.. you let a whine.. you cunt aching.. the knot tightening.. you cunt bumps onto his nose triggering your orgams. You scream his name as he continues to eat you out while you come. You get off his face lying down weak.. exhausted, out of energy.

“We aren’t done yet kitty.. ride me..” he sits up stroking himself waiting for you. You look up, forcing yourself up. You crawl towards him and place yourself above him. His tip at your entrance. He fills you up nicely. You grabbed his arms to support, lifting your body up and then going back down. You bite down onto his shoulder. The pleasure taking over your brain. Your thighs ache.. as your pace slows, you get your ass slapped by Heeseung, red marks on it. You try to quicken your pace but it’s too late for that as Heeseung grabs your hips and pounds from below.. you both come together as you curl into his embrace..

“Sorry if I was rough baby..” he kisses your lips, purring you smile at him.. “it’s okay.. I love you..” you stare at his eyes.. “I love you too..”

Author’s note: I wrote smut it’s been a long time it’s so hard tbh (mainly why only I really write fluff tbh..) idk I make new ideas and post them but not my drafts that have been there for months. Also happy late Halloween..? I’m sick yall hope I get better 💔

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: That one episode of teen titans where they all dress up as Robin + Tim being a gremlin about his legacy + Danny look alike/twin AU.

So there is that episode of Teen Titans where Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven all dress as Robin (Dick) while he's out and it's admitted that the outfit makes them feel cool. Imagine a young Tim hearing that story mentioned in passing by Dick while trying to manage what becomes Young Just-us. And then when Damain becomes Robin?? Gremlin mode activated.

Tim hosts regular 'Robin' Parties, where the idea is that you come in Robin colors, get a mask at the door and everyone gets to basically hang out in civilian clothes without the identity crises for those just getting started. "age appropriate" drinks, games, and good music are all staples. The parties become more frequent once Damian becomes Robin and he pointedly doesn't attend Tim's parties which... Neither of them are really happy about. Family is complicated, but finally, after a few years of cooling off, it's decided that Robin will actually host this years Robin party.

Meaning Tim shows up in casual clothes (MIT sweatshirt) and a mask, and Damian is actually dressed as Robin when the party is starting to get into the swing of things. The point of it is to make sure all the young heroes get to come and start to befriend each other, so there are a few people who show up and have to actually say that they're *insert alias* and this is met with basically "Dope, nice to meet you Robin" etc.

Insert Danny Twin AU (Or just look-alike fuckery) (for either brother but my brain is on Tim Twin au mode).

Danny decides to show up as his human self, grabs a mask at the door before coming in, and is slowly integrating himself into a conversation when someone grabs his arm- "Hey Red your brother is fighting with a newbie about meat products again-"

And Danny doesn't have a brother but my god has he heard this fight too many times with Sam and Tucker- He's going in and he's defusing this situation because he cannot handle the thought of this argument taking over his new friend group. He deals with it enough, okay?

Robin (like, the real one) looks at him curiously while Danny is talking down the other hero Robin (insert here), and the whole room notices when Robin doesn't take the opportunity to dismiss or belittle his older brother (Lmao because its danny). Damian cannot place his unease about Drake (again, Danny, who is not hiding his identity beyond a mask), and simply decides that this isn't worth the effort.

The party moves on but now instead of everyone calling themselves Robin, Danny is distinctly being called Red. It confuses him a bit, he didn't even know Red Robin was going to be at this party (he hasn't met the guy and doesn't know the lore), but he rolls with it because he's made fast friends with Robin (Bart), Robin (Cassie) and Robin (JON). The kid was full little bro energy and it made Danny laugh, he was so surprised when the real Robin joined them and fell into easy conversation with Robin (Jon).

Danny is playing games with a few others when someone goes to grab a broom to clean up- Turns out Red Robin and his boyfriend Kon had been making out in the closet for most of the party- and the whole room looks at Danny like he's tried to trick them. Tim is at first uneasy that so many people mistook him, but once he's in front of his dupe, puzzle pieces start to move around in his head.

"And who are you again, Robin?" Tim asks carefully, though he suspects he has his answer.

"Uh, Phantom, but you know, a lot of people were calling me Red tonight and I didn't get why until just now." Danny laughs nervously.

"Yeah I bet- Find me monday and we can see about a geneology test."

"That leaves us the whole weekend, to do what exactly? Fuck with people by pulling a parent trap style swap?"

"Nature vs. nuture and all but I don't know how you could be anything but my brother with a question like that." Tim grins and they get to scheming.

[purinfelix]

hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense

i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹ - pablo gavi

pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3

No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.

Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.

You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.

Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.

"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.

"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."

You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.

Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.

"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.

"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.

You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."

It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.

He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.

If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.

"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.

"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.

"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."

He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.

[jenn2sec]

English vers.

Based On My Dreams Series (GD LINE):

❝ Too Dry? ❞

Main Line (part 1)

start - friday21022025

couple - Kwon Ji Yong (G-Dragon) x fem!reader

chapters summary - what if you chose to tease gdragon then? would things have been different?!

note - chaotic, bad words, side characters, time branch if you choose to say something playful with GD, funny, alcohol, drunk, bar, kissing, teasing, age gap

caption section - after reviewing and organizing more ideas for the plot, i decided to officially develop the Based On My Dreams Series into a long fanfic combined with many story lines depending on your choices (follow the Quantum Multiverse Theory). y/n is in the late twenties and about to enter their thirties, a third-year student majoring in film scriptwriting.

We’re always open to feedback and ideas to make the story better!

Don't forget to read the Main Line (part 1) first!!

You quickly let yourself soak in the atmosphere while waiting for your best friend, who was busy flirting with the bartender (and ordering more drinks for both of you). The tension in your body gradually melted away, your shoulders feeling lighter by the second. It was hard to believe this trip was already working wonders—on just the first day.

Then, out of nowhere, a cold liquid spilled down the back of your neck, soaking your entire back. A sharp shiver ran up your spine, triggering an instant wave of shock and discomfort that shot straight to your brain, making you yelp. Luckily, the bar was noisy enough to drown out your outburst.

Spinning around, you searched for the culprit—and found yourself facing a guy dressed in a breezy, casual outfit. His face was undeniably Korean, but he wasn’t bad-looking at all. In fact, when combined with his overall aura, he looked…pretty cool!

His expression, however, was hilarious. Though the dim lighting made it hard to see clearly, his wide eyes, hand-over-mouth reaction, and panicked mumbling made it obvious he was apologizing and checking if you were okay.

You were in too good of a mood to get mad. You were about to say something, but then you spotted your best friend scanning the crowd for you. With no time to linger, you flashed the guy a quick grin, leaned in slightly, and said a few words before slipping through the dancing crowd to rejoin your friend.

"You think I'm too dry, huh? It's fine tho, thanks for the baptism! Amen!"

You take a few steps before instinctively turning your head, wanting to catch his reaction—whether to acknowledge him with a look or just to see if he found your joke funny. But your hair and the bustling crowd block your view, and before you know it, the music drowns out your curiosity.

"Thanks," you say out of habit as you accept your drink from your best friend, quickly following up with a more intentional question, "So? Has the bartender fallen for you yet, girl?"

Your best friend, after a few drinks, is a completely different person from the shy girl who fumbles her native language when placing an order at a new restaurant. With enough alcohol, she’s fearless—every good-looking guy is fair game for her teasing, and she makes them blush effortlessly. The confidence you had earlier when cracking a joke with the guy who “baptized” you with Chivas? That energy was all borrowed from her.

Messing with strangers with harmless little quips? Not a bad feeling at all.

Your friend says something about the bartender, but before long, the conversation halts as both of you rush to the dance floor the moment the DJ transitions into a K-pop remix.

It’s been far too long since you last let yourself taste a night like this. The drinks start as a few cocktails but quickly escalate to each of you holding a full bottle of imported liquor, dancing and sipping away. The music hits deeper when your body is tipsy. You even find yourself openly dancing with random guys and girls—still relatively tame behavior compared to your best friend, who has probably ended up in some dark corner making out with the bartender by now.

The nausea starts creeping up from your chest to your throat. You down the last of your drink, cheerfully settle the bill, and head toward the restroom in search of your friend.

You bump into someone, but you're too unsteady to hold your balance. Just as you're about to fall forward, a strong arm catches you—one hand securely holding your waist, the other steadying your back.

"너! (You!)" The voice exclaims.

It takes you a second to register. You can’t quite recall the face, but the tattoo on his forearm jogs your memory. Your eyes widen, and with a drunken grin, you straighten up and shout:

"AMEN!"

He immediately bursts into laughter, doubling over as he clutches his face, leaning against the wall, unable to stop.

Satisfied that your joke hit its mark, you smirk, looking ridiculously triumphant.

"Yeah, I apologize for that incident," he finally manages between chuckles, switching to English instead of the frantic Korean apologies from earlier.

"Huh?!" You pretend not to hear him over the music, though you definitely did.

He leans in to repeat himself, and you nod along, squinting like an old lady, before teasing,

"It’s fine, but hey, cool guy—" You pause. He instinctively tilts his head closer, waiting for the rest of your sentence.

Then, in a hushed whisper, just loud enough for him alone to hear, you say:

"Do I look less dry now? Juicy enough yet?"

A bold, playful challenge. You didn’t exactly plan on flirting so soon after a breakup, but hey—it’s a foreign guy, so what’s there to lose?

He laughs again, but softer this time. Maybe out of shyness. Or maybe he finds you intriguing?

His smile seems oddly familiar. More importantly, it’s incredibly cute. And combined with the alcohol coursing through you, it’s also..kind of sexy.

You have a thing for watching people’s mouths when they smile. There’s something undeniably attractive about it. And this guy? He already exudes main-character energy, even with that slightly dorky grin.

"Yes, you do," he finally responds—again, leaning in just enough that his lips barely graze the shell of your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, similar to when the cold liquor was poured down your back earlier. But this time, you like it.

You turn to face him, eyes slightly squinting from your smile, your cheekbones lifting just enough—your grin is not as wide as when you’re joking, but subtly inviting. A silent green light.

Your faces are close. He doesn't pull away. His eyes search yours, gauging your intent. But you? You’re not looking at his eyes. You’re fixated on the corner of his lips, still faintly curled upward.

The DJ let the beat drops.

And in that split second, your gazes finally lock—caught red-handed in mutual attraction.

No time to think.

Your lips crash into each other, reckless and unhesitating, like neither of you care whether the other wanted it or not.

The kiss is strangely familiar. As if you've done this a hundred times before. Your heads tilt instinctively, in perfect sync.

Your bodies press against each other with no space in between. He pushes you gently against the hallway wall.

Both of you kept pushing and pulling, kissing fervently while your hands explored each other slowly and deliberately. Your arms draped over his neck, fingers brushing through the hair at his nape and tracing the curve of his ear before sliding down to his neck, shoulders, chest, and waist.

Unconsciously, you traced and familiarized yourself with his body, your eyes tightly shut.

Unlike you—whose hands had already wandered to his hips—he simply cradled your back and caressed your nape. His slender, cool fingers felt like chilled liquor, gliding up and down the back of your neck in a teasing manner, occasionally pulling your head closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand rested gently at your lower back, pressing your bodies even tighter together—his every movement refined in contrast to your own.

You couldn’t breathe, yet you didn’t want to stop. Awkwardly, you switched between breathing through your nose and mouth, trying to prolong the kiss so there was no pause between you two—a determination that made him chuckle quietly in amusement.

Oh, and he had facial hair—not long, but just enough for it to graze your skin as you kissed. But he was careful, making sure it wouldn’t bother you too much. Not that you minded, because you were far too lost in this kiss to care about a few bristles.

He was an insanely good kisser!

You never understood how couples could shamelessly make out in public, but right now, you're no different. Lost in it, eyes shut tight, surrendering to a kiss from a total stranger—someone you just met, someone whose face you still don’t fully remember.

But deep down, you know that alcohol doesn’t make you lose control. It just gives you an excuse to embrace your most primal instincts.

And the tight, coiling sensation in your stomach? That’s the most honest part of you right now.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room.

A cold wave of panic surges through your chest.

Did you…?

“Hey, Y/n, hurry up and shower! I’m taking you to my workplace today. I started working part-time at this cute little café since I don’t have morning classes anymore. Oh, you can use my clothes, we have a same size right?”

Your best friend steps out of the bathroom, towel-drying her short hair.

Relief washes over you.

Your shoulders, once tense, suddenly feel as light as a feather.

You flop back onto the bed, stretching lazily as you groan, “Good morninggg!!”

Your friend laughs, snapping her towel at your butt.

“Hurry up, we’re getting hangover soup first!”

_____

F i x a r a w S o f t e n

friday21022025

02:40

︾︾︾︾︾︾︾

to speed things up and because my english isn’t really that good, i decided to use a translation tool to help with the language switch.

did yall like it?

hope you all understand and enjoy ♡

[astrobydalia]

more observations (lost count)✨

Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!

❗️long post

work by astrobydalia

✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged

✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo

✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow

✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.

^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency

✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge

✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out

✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled

✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words

✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you

✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality

✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works

✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful

✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.

✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless

✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious

✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars

✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy

✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant

✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.

✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between

✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values

✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense

✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children

✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to

✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go

✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues

I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'

✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities

✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone

✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?

✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity

✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra

✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense

✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen

✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial

✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.

✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance

work by astrobydalia

[sthilarions]

me, exhausted and out of ideas, pushing the content creation button in my brain: Edwin is a. is a fuckin. grasshopper mouse

Or, well, his daemon is.

Some fun facts about grasshopper mice:

1) They look like normal very cute tiny mice. They are about 3.5-5 inches long and weigh “between eight and twenty pennies”.

2) They have been co-evolving with a particular species of scorpion, one that can kill humans easily, and as a result have a wide array of genetic mutations that make them incredibly resistant to not only that scorpion’s venom but pain in general; there have been some attempts at research into using grasshopper mice’s adaptations as analgesics for humans.

3) Grasshopper mice are obligate carnivores that specialize in eating highly venomous arthropods, including scorpions, a “prehistoric-looking” arachnid, and an extremely venomous centipede, and hunt various other animals as well, up to and including birds and decent-sized snakes; their kill tactics are… rather gruesome.

4) They have a variety of adaptations for carnivory, including stronger skulls to deliver high bite force, long claws to hold struggling prey, and stomachs that are able to withstand the lacerating force of partially-chewed scorpion exoskeletons.

5) They howl at the moon like wolves (and also bark like dogs).

When Edwin’s daemon settled as a mouse, his parents were furious. They demanded he hide Mys, carrying him in a small box from his belt, because at least then he could carry the benefit of the doubt that maybe Mys was something small but more dignified - a scorpion, perhaps, or a small snake. Stigmatized, but not weak.

(Edwin was perfectly happy to do so, as it made it easier to hide that Mys was male.)

(Another fun bonus fact: in Greek, “mys” means both “mouse” and “muscle”.)

Edwin did his own research, and determined that Mys was not a normal house mouse, but very little was known of grasshopper mice, in the 1910s.

In Hell, Mys was able to ride on Edwin’s shoulder, as he ran. And they learned, over time, that Mys could siphon off some of Edwin’s pain, and over even more time they learned how to stop the pain before Edwin even felt it too much. Well - that’s a bit of a misstatement. Hell finds its way around anything you do to evade it, escalating as necessary, experimenting with new tortures. Any relief is only temporary, lasts only until someone notices you’re not screaming hard enough. But, still - in Hell, even momentary relief matters, helps you stay semi-sane, helps you keep hope and drive, and, eventually, Edwin escaped.

He showed Mys to Charles, when they met, as proof that he was harmless, that he wouldn’t hurt Charles. Charles cooed at Mys in a way highly undignified for a 16 year old boy.

By the 90s, there was information out there, about grasshopper mice, when Edwin went looking for it again.

Mys comes in pretty handy, actually, once they know what he is, because it’s amazing how many witches and sorcerers and warlocks and so forth have pet scorpions or snakes or centipedes or spiders, that pose a danger even to ghosts - but not to Mys. Mys darts in and takes their stings and bites without flinching (and, sometimes, when needed, stabs his sharp teeth through their exoskeletons until they’re paralyzed and then finishes them off).

This only makes one big difference, though, in the end.

When they see Esther’s snake, Charles raises his eyebrows. “I think that one might be a bit big, even for you, Mys.” Edwin tilts his head. “There is something we have been practicing. I’d rather not, if we can avoid it, however.”

But after Hell and before Esther would have blown up Jenny’s shop, a crow comes to them to talk to Mys, and Edwin realizes they can’t avoid it.

They march off to Esther’s house, all of them, even Crystal and Niko, as desperately as Edwin tries to get the living humans to stay behind. And when they get there, Edwin kneels by the cupboard, Mys on his hand. “All the energy you gave to me, I return to you. The strength of our soul, Hell-tempered, scorpion-killer, pain-eater, in your form.” His hand falls to the floor as Mys begins to get bigger, and then the rest of him falls, too, limp, as Mys dives through the cupboard door just in time, barely able to still fit through and still growing.

Charles kneels frantically over Edwin, Edwin’s ghostly body limp and unconscious and flickering, as Mys’s howl shakes the house.

And a few days later, Edwin lies in Niko’s bed, despite his protests that ghosts don’t need beds, still a bit too shaky to walk around but he hasn’t flickered since yesterday, and Niko asks if they would like a pink ribbon for Mys’s tail. “Mys is - Mys is male, actually,” Edwin says, and Niko smiles and dives back into her ribbon collection.

“Ooh, I know! How about this green, like your sweater that you wore for Charles?”

And, they all have to agree - including Charles, when he arrives a few minutes later - that the ribbon does suit Mys quite nicely. And Mys preens, and fluffs the bow a bit with his long sharp claws.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

I know it's such a highly popular dinosaur but are they any interesting facts about the Tyrannosaurus Rex that isn't well known? I still love the Rexes wishing more dinosaur media treated it in the same way nature documentaries treat modern carnivores as animals just trying to surive and not just ripping up every living thing they encounter.

T. rex is actually one of the best studied (non-neornithine) dinosaurs ever, period. In fact, writing all the interesting facts we know about it is... more work than I particularly want to do right now, lol.

some things off the top of my head:

it wasn't built for moving fast in terms of miles per hour or whatever, but they were built for extreme cursoriality in other ways. Essentially, T. rex and its relatives were built for turning, quickly, on a dime. And they moved faster than the herbivores they were chasing. So these were animals built for short, surprise attacks on their prey. And ballet dancing

T. rex had the best sense of smell... ever. Like, ever ever. And its eyesight and hearing were good too. It had a fairly large brain for where it is in the dinosaur family tree, as well. Essentially, this was a dinosaur built to take in as much sensory info as possible, to pinpoint prey as quickly as possible.

T. rex aged kind of like people! IE, the process of going from infant -> sexually and skeletally mature adult takes about the same amount of time, with similar stages happening at similar times. So, T. rex had an awkward teenage phase! They were tall, but very skinny and lanky, and many researchers think that different ages of Tyrannosaurus filled different niches, with bigger rexes eating larger prey and the teens eating smaller faster dinosaurs.

That said, there's lots of evidence for familial groups and social life in Tyrannosaurs, based on fossilization patterns and footprint records. So it's very likely they took care of their young, and hunted in groups.

did they have feathers? no idea. they're big enough to have lost them for thermoregulation like many other dinosaurs did. they are in a group that have some big feathered animals, though, like Yutyrannus. Maybe babies had feathers and adults lost them. Maybe adults kept them some places and not others. We do know that there are parts of the Tyrannosaurus adult body that had scales. Beyond that - whether feathers were present too, or not - we don't know.

it was not skeletally sexually dimorphic. however, we do know that some tyrannosaurs were female because the fossilized when they were in the process of making eggs. during this process, dinosaurs - including living birds - deposit extra tissue in their bones called medullary bone. This tissue stores calcium to make eggshells from later. It's only present in actively ovulating female dinosaurs. So, we know some of our fossils were making eggs when they died!

the arms were small, yeah, but they were VERY strong. these weren't vestigial organs, yet, though their shortness was mainly due to the strengthening of the neck muscles. T. rex interacted with the world primarily with its head and jaws. The arms would have been helpful with holding on during mating, or possibly for display.

it wasn't a scavenger. it was an opportunist. No predators today avoid easy meals - life is all about minimizing energy spent to get more energy. But obligate scavengers tend to be flying organisms, ones that can cover huge distances, in order to find enough carrion. T. rex was definitely a predator, and had to hunt occasionally, but wouldn't turn up its nose at an easy meal.

T. rex lived all over western north america, right at the end of the age of dinosaurs. It was one of the most successful nonavian dinosaurs, ever, and would probably not have gone extinct so quickly if there hadn't been an asteroid.

[drunkeninlovesailor]

You Let Me

{I don't know. I haven't even read the IDW comics. I just know this fragger exists and that I like him. So here we go. have my first fanfic since last March. Blame @revelboo for getting me hooked on Sunder } TW: Mentions of blood, cannibalism, gore, body horror, mind break to a degree, nsfw, 18+, AFAB reader, Sunder being Sunder

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I've got no soul to sell

So, it became routine. He’d find a way to sneak into the minds of his jailers, surgical precision worthy of his fame - and later on, his infamy. Then, he’d coax them into lowering his security just enough for you to reach him undisturbed. 

“Come find me”, he’d whisper. A thought in the back of your mind, bypassing the thalamus, going straight for the limbic system and prompting you to leave all you were doing to run to him. No time to piece the thought together, call the remainants of your common sense and stop you in your tracks. 

The truth is, Sunder shouldn’t be, isn’t really able to exert such an influence on your organic synapses. Not in the way those of his kind crumbled under him. No, that whisper, that eerie voice, it is simply a way to encourage the desire already burning within your spark. (Heart? Prefrontal cortex?)

“I missed you”, he’d smile with those crooked teeth. You feel him then, knocking at your door and begging for entrance.

“Of course you did, I’m your only source of entertainment”. You open that door and he begins to rummage around, delighted in being your guest again. A wanted guest, despite how cumbersome his presence can be. In your mind he’s sitting, hugging your figure as he reviews your latest memories with the interest of an avid cinephile. 

“Not entertainment. You are never just entertainment to me”, he muses as he takes a sip of the mojito you had this weekend. You picture a seat for him at the human pub that smelled like beer and sweat and that you’ll probably never visit again, but you’d thought about bringing him there, so here he is. He likes this place, of course. You made sure to embellish it in your imagination, but that ecstatic wonder of his, that wasn’t of your doing. It was entirely his.

“You are everything I have left”. 

You had taken pity in the way he wallowed miserably without a soul to entertain his whims, and once you two had found out he could hang around peacefully in your mind without disrupting whichever was inside, it became a common occurrence to you. He especially loved to mingle in your dreams. 

[There was a time you forgot to get back to your quarters before curfew, and all security systems had already been strengthened for nighttime. You were trapped there with him, and temperatures had begun to drop everywhere beside human habsuites - all humans were supposed to be in their berths after curfew, and cutting heating in areas no longer attended by humans meant saving a considerable amount of energy. 

However amusing it was to see the workings of your hypothalamus to face the freezing cold, the idea (your idea, it was your idea) to climb on top of him and use his body as a heated mattress was too scrumptious to let slide.

You knew it was your only choice of survival, and you also knew that once your brain waves would shift from alpha to the alternating beta and delta which characterizes the human sleeping pattern, all your doors would be unlocked and he would be granted full access.

This, however, didn’t deter you. He could rummage all he wanted, but he couldn’t hurt you. Couldn’t break you like he did his kind. Somehow, this intrigued him more. 

“Listen up”, you had told him as you stretched across his abdomen, “when my thoughts start getting weird, don’t you dare talk or make any movements. And stay like that until I tell you otherwise”. 

“Anything you ask”, he had purred. Pleased at your embarrassment, and the way you’d try to find a comfortable spot on his panels.

That night he learned so many things about you, thoughts hidden, some perverse. He found an image of himself in there, too. He found many more, some more depraved than others. And whenever your subconscious processes spilled into debauchery - oh, - he could feel himself stir behind his interface panel.]

“Why are you staring at me like that?”, you ask, eyes moving from the book you were reading (hallucinating vividly) to Sunder. He closes a thought to you, and it makes you suspicious. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, sweetspark. Please continue”. 

“That grin of yours tells me you’re up to no good”. 

“How can I be ‘up’ if I’m chained to my berth?”. 

He’s messing with you. He knows and he loves the way you scowl at him when he begins to snicker. 

Then his whole body stirs, and he licks his lips. “You’re so cute when you make that face”, he sneaks past another gate, “I could just eat you up”. 

He felt that.

He knows your eyes went to his lips. He knows what you’ve imagined. He knows about the machinations of your human Id. And with that, he knows what thought went from your central nervous system, down your spine, and right into your-

“Fuck you”, you spit. 

But you can’t deny the truth when he’s already face to face with the darkest, deepest recesses of your mind. And he loves what he sees.

“I feared you’d never ask”. 

And he spills your thoughts into you. You push him back with a snarl. Your refusal only makes him needier. 

“There’s no one but us. They’ll be away for joors”, he begs, “Please, let me see. I want to see-”, he’s struggling beneath the chains, clawing at your door and whining like a lost animal, “Please”.

“Shut up”. The clawing quiets down, but your door creaks open. 

He swallows a lump of lubricant and his lips part. 

Another thought. He catches it and his eyes light up. Dares to slip a thought of his into you. That he’ll be so good to you, if you let him. He needs it. Please. 

“You can’t keep quiet, can you?”, you talk down to him. 

‘I know what can shut you up’. You’re not fast enough to stop yourself, and his answer floods you in return.

Humans are sexual animals. They breed to survive, their minds cater to the debauchery despite centuries of learned mannerisms. And you can’t keep yourself guarded, not with him stalking your mind like a famished beast. 

Your instincts will always betray you. And when you slip, he’ll be ready to pounce. 

When you picture his face between your legs and his tongue against your slit, a groan escapes him. 

It only takes a whisper, and he tips you off the edge. 

It was your idea, after all. 

You discard your lower garments and climb onto his berth. You hear the chains rattle and his engines flare and you know he can barely contain himself. ‘So good’, he whispers, ‘I’ll be so good for you, just a taste, please’. The part of him that spills reveals that it won’t be, it can’t be, just a taste. But right now it sounds more like a promise than a threat. 

You press yourself against his lips with a shaky moan, and he groans and begins to drag his tongue along your folds. He whispers more, praising you, pleading you, as you start to move against his tongue, riding his face. 

There’s something of the divine in the way his precision becomes worship. His gaze, the way his vents rumble, the hypnotic movement of his tongue and the words he whispers into your mind. All praise. All worship. 

His blue optics gleam and he knows you’re close. ‘So good, yes, there, there!’, he knows where you want him, and you don’t even have to speak a word. He knows exactly how you want to be pleasured, he knows your thighs will tremble if he runs his tongue across- yes, of course he’ll do it. 

His teeth clamp down on your mound and his tongue tunnels inside you, and the moan that leaves you is very much real and not just a shared thought between the two of you. And he keeps biting, everywhere you want him as your orgasm washes over him. Not just your thoughts but also your moans and whimpers telling him he’s doing a wonderful job. His taste receptors can’t pick out just how sweet you truly are, but he knows. Oh, how lovely it is to know. 

Lost in the haze, your gates are down. The images in your mind take a darker turn as you picture his tongue extending and enter you deep, past your anatomical barriers, piercing and filling. He’d taste blood then. And he’d wrap that tongue around your organs one by one and pull them from you to gulp them down. He can taste your blood because you know its taste, even if on his tongue he can only feel your slick. He doesn’t know the taste of your flesh, but he knows it’d be delicious.

Somehow, this image doesn’t disturb you.

Another thought and this time you don’t know from whom it came from. You move from his mouth - yes, there’s no blood. Only your juices - and crawl down. He grins. He knows. He begs you to do it while his teeth bite into nothing. 

A thought he gives you like an offering, and you know where to apply pressure to release his interface panel manually. His spike stirs to life, begging to be touched. You know that if he doesn’t sink into you this very instant, he’ll self-destruct. ‘Please, please, I need you so badly, please’, echoes all around your brain. You pity that lamb-like face and forget there’s a predator beneath. 

“Soon, be patient”, you coo with real words as you rub your slit along the length of his spike, feeling the hard metal and his biolights pulsate rhythmically to entice you. He hopes it’s working. 

You engulf him. His vents stop and pick up again. And the image of you splayed on top of him, sinking to the hilt, hits you and becomes the only thing he (you) can think about. And then it morphs. He urges you to move, please, and you do, delighted in having the upper hand, leaving all doors open because who cares really? He’s chained, and he can’t hurt you. He’s all yours to take. 

But the image of you keeps morphing, and somehow there’s blood spilling from the spot where you two are connected, and something in him is fixated on penetration and fully believes he has the right to apply it to all of you.

His intake is on your chest (weren’t there chains before?) and then he bites down, swallowing a lump of flesh as the metallic taste fills his senses. His digits find their way to your abdomen and press, tearing the skin apart and plunging into the soft mesh of muscle beneath. Spike still inside you, thrusting up into you. He brings you closer to him, gorging himself on the mess of flesh and fluids and you keep moaning, begging him to continue, to take you, all of you. Consume you. 

Open mouthed kisses and bites, and he’s closer to your heart now - it’s pulsing, it’s enticing. He doesn’t know how it tastes, but he has seen it, from your memories yes, from the movies you’ve watched and the medical texts you’ve read, and oh, how lovely of you humans to attribute it such importance, give it a role in governing your emotions the same way your amygdala does. So naive of you humans to make a spark of a lump of flesh. He bites down, and blood spills all over him. 

You scream now, but not of pleasure - somehow, this arouses him further. His spike tears you apart and his teeth grind your bones and cut your vessels. Yet you don’t push him away, you hold him closer. 

He overloads with a whine and everything turns black. Then, he retreats into his own mind, too tired to own yours. 

Your body is perfectly intact. 

You move and he slips out of you, then you make sure that his interface panel is back on in case his jailers come back and find him in such a state. Oh, and you’ll have to clean up all the transfluid. That’s entirely on you. 

His vents are on a higher setting and he can’t stop smiling, pleased with you and himself. “That was amazing”, he says, his voicebox glitching a little. He doesn’t have the strength to say much else. 

“Don’t make a habit out of it”.

“Why? Didn’t you like it?”

“You know I did”, you try to collect that little bit of professionalism left in you. “But you also know we’re risking enough as it is, so I’d like to keep control of my thoughts when I’m stuck with you, thank you very much”. 

He nods. “Of course, I’ll keep my servos to myself”. 

You know he won’t.

Somehow, that doesn’t bother you. 

There’s something in the back of your mind saying that you should run and never come back, but you have forgotten what you’ve seen. He took everything with him when he withdrew from you. All the images and your suspicions, leaving just your pity. That will serve him well. Will keep you coming. 

“Till next time?”, he smiles. 

And deep down you know, what commands him is not tenderness, but hunger.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede

Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.

This is my interpretation…

Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.

Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.

At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.

By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.

Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.

So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.

For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.

I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.

But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.

Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.

Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.

[eepwriting]

• mean brat taming dom ii who is SO soft with u after (my hc says there’s no way he’s not into impact play tbh)

• ivy being the absolute softest gentlest daddy dom ever (tell me he doesn’t give that strong gentle energy. the praise he would give?! UGH)

• primal feral vessel claiming you after chasing you through the forest. right there on the leaf littered floor

• iii edging you over and over on his thigh until you’re sobbing and brain dead (really i just think iii would enjoy being as much of a fucking tease as possible. whispering dirty thoughts in your ear through the day. stealing spicy touches. leading up to when he can finally get you alone and drive you REALLY crazy)

• reader x vessel x ivy threesome. soft daddy dom ivy and mean dom vessel

i have too many filthy ideas but no ability to write them so 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 godspeed, hope these inspire some filth from you!

- thirsty girl 💘

Count ‘em ✶ II x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, impact play (spanking, light slapping, choking, pinching, hair pulling), degradation, oral (m receiving), mean! ii

TRUST when I say I will be returning to this ask to write something for every prompt. Also, THANKS for some ii stuff!! I was feeling bad that I only had one thing wrote for him 🤍🤍

!! mdi !!

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“Move it, I’ve already said it once. That should be enough.” His voice is stern, his eyes serious as he impatiently drums his fingers on his legs.

You knew him well enough at this point to know what his calm demeanor truly meant. Even the way he undressed you minutes before had been slow and careful. Only you knew that the second he got you over his lap, his actions would not be gentle.

You swallow nervously, hoping he can’t hear the sound of your heart about to break through your chest. You knew your brattiness throughout the day had gotten you here. Your unrelenting back talk and attitude wasn’t something you gave ii often, but for whatever reason, you wanted to see how far you could push him today.

You’re slow to move towards him, his full and undivided attention on you feeling as if it was about to burn a hole into the side of your face. He lets you help yourself onto his lap, crawling to lay face down across his spread thighs. His hand is heavy on your back once you get settled, sliding up your spine to rest in between your shoulder blades. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been awfully difficult.” His hand moves up into your hair to tug, pulling your head back slightly. “Hm?”

You think about your answer carefully and decide to just be honest with him. He’d know anyway if you were lying. “I think it’s fun.” Your hand grips his calf when he tugs harder, isolating a chunk of hair at the crown of your head. “Fun? To mess with me? To irritate and piss me off to no end? You think that’s fun, is what I’m hearing?” You nod meekly, silently enjoying the pull on your hair. He only hums and reaches his other hand around to wrap around your throat, applying enough pressure to make breathing slightly more difficult, but not enough to make you panic for air.

“Well I don’t think that’s very fun at all. In fact, only a desperate, pathetic little whore would find something like that to be fun. Is that what you are then? A desperate and pathetic whore?” The hand in your hair disappears to grope roughly at your ass before settling on a cheek, leaving a stinging pinch. You take in a short gasp of air at the sting, earning a quiet snicker from ii. His full hand comes down in a dull smack before massaging over your skin. “You make it so easy, you know. Your skin practically begs to be marked up. You seem to want that too, don’t you? You wouldn’t act up if you didn’t.” Another, this time harsher smack is dealt. “I didn’t get an answer to my question.” The hand around your throat tightens.

Your eyes close in a long blink before you attempt a nod. He makes a sound of disappointment next to you. “You know you’re supposed to use your words. Don’t play dumb.” His hand moves to the back of your thigh to pinch and pull at the skin.

You squirm and squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes. I’m a desperate and pathetic whore.” This earns you a groan and another spank. “There you go. Maybe you can follow instructions. Why don’t you count ‘em for me, hm?” His touch is soft as he runs his hand up your back. Your mumbled and nervous “okay” is enough for him to swat at your ass again. He waits for your response before landing another. “2…” The pain is tolerable but you know he’s just warming up.

He lands 10 solid smacks, each progressively getting harsher before massaging his hand over your stinging skin. You hiss at the touch and make a poor attempt to shift your hips away from him. “I like watching you jolt from the pain. The little gasps you let out.” The hand around your throat moves to run through your hair.

He repeats the same actions on the other cheek, but doesn’t build up at all. The 10 makes your skin sting, like hot fire, your eyes watering at the repeated blows. II knows you can take it, knows you enjoy it. Clearly evident by the way moans and whimpers flood out of your mouth and your hips grind down on his thigh.

He lets you rest, massaging his fingers over your scalp, his other hand lightly scratching over your back. “On your knees now.” He says after his moment of quiet tenderness. Excitement blooms in your stomach, ready and aching to take more than just his harsh hands. You’re slow to move off his lap and even slower to sink to the floor. The skin on your ass is hot against your calves and ankles, a dull but persistent sting radiating as you get situated on your knees.

II cups the sides of your face, moving your head side to side as he looks down at you. His thumbs move over your cheeks before he leans down to press his mouth to yours. It’s harsh and rushed. Teeth clashing together before he bites over your bottom lip. His hand returns around your throat before he drags you up to stand on your knees. He roughly grips your hip, digging his fingertips into the skin, hard enough you’re sure to see a bruise in the morning. He licks into your mouth a final time before breaking away from you. He groans when he looks at you. Hair messed up from his hands, lips red and slightly inflamed, the skin on your neck a bright white with how much pressure he’s applying to your throat. His thumb absentmindedly runs over your lips before he hooks it over your bottom lip to force your mouth open. Your tongue comes out to lick over his thumb, earning another low groan from ii. “Such a pretty mouth. I’m gonna fuck it.” His thumb messily runs over your outstretched tongue. An inadvertent whimper comes from you at those words, your hands impatiently grabbing at his thighs. He snickers at you before standing to remove his jeans.

Both his hands cradle your head in surprising tenderness but his eyes and facial expression are cold and stern as he looks down at you. He lightly slaps your cheek twice and you take that as a cue to open your mouth for him. He hums, sliding one hand to the back of your head. He wastes no time in sliding his cock fully into your awaiting mouth. II’s jaw clenches and his hips buck towards you when your lips wrap around him. “Put that mouth of yours to good use.” He grunts, cock moving in and out of your mouth quickly. His too tight grip on your hair makes you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut. A harsher slap lands on your cheek. “You keep your eyes on me.” It almost comes out in a growl as he practically straddles your face, forcing his cock as far into your mouth as he can. He doesn’t let up despite your watering eyes, gags and nails digging into the skin on his thighs.

You know he’s close when the sounds he lets out become higher pitched and the rhythm of his thrusts turn disjointed. “Take it. Be good and take it.” He breathes out before letting out a long groan. His movements pause as he cums at the back of your throat, his hand holding your head close to him. You breathe through your nose and patiently wait for him to pull away from you. You can finally close your eyes, forcing leftover tears down your cheeks when he backs away. You stay looking up at him, his chest heaving, eyes heavy and relaxed now.

He lazily reaches out to brush over the top of your head and wipe over your cheeks. He holds his hand out for you, letting you take your time in rising to your feet. He pulls you into a long hug, hands running up and down your back. He guides you to lay on the bed, insisting you lay on your stomach. He lays next to you for a short while, asking you repeatedly if you’re okay, peppering kisses on the side of your face. He leaves your side and comes back with water and an ice pack. He watches you sip the water while holding the ice on your still red hot skin. He coos at you when you wince, shuffling closer to you as he watches you with concern filled eyes.

Your tiredness eventually catches up to you and you’re not sure how long you’ve dozed off before you feel ii straddle your hips. You whine when his hard again cock pushes against you. “Mm, don’t touch…it’s too much.” You furrow your brows and try to shift away from his hands that brush over your aching skin. “Shhh, I know, love. You’ve been so good for me…wanna help you. I’ll be gentle. I promise.” His voice is quiet as he leans over you, nuzzling his head against your neck. He lazily mouths over your skin and ever so slowly inches into you.

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The way I could not focus for more than 5 minutes while writing this 🙃 I had different plans for this but I just could not use enough brain power to write it lol

BUT I’m so excited to return to this ask!!! So many good ideas 👏🏻 thank you again anon 💘

Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed!

K. Bye bye.

[tinytalkingtina]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@devondespresso Tagged me in this forever ago and I finally had one wiggle its way into my brain!

This week been fiddling with the idea of a true role reversal Steddie, with Eddie as the popular jock and Steve as the metalhead (as opposed to a punk). This got a little away from me, haha. No idea for a story or how other characters might fit in, but if anyone wants to take the concept and run with it feel free!

Eddie

Eddie is still poor, and still lives with his uncle (let's pretend he had to repeat a grade due to the chaos of moving in with Wayne). But he's Hawkin's star track runner/lightweight wrestler, channeling his energy into sports and competition. His grades are probably still not great, but since he's winning awards at meets, teachers let a lot more slide, and he skates by most of his classes with low C's. If he's loud and excited, then well, that's just what jocks do, right?

Wayne works nights, so Eddie is usually left to his own devices. Sure, the trailer can't hold that many people (and maybe Eddie has a bit of a chip on his shoulder that he lives in the trailer park), but this is the Midwest, and Eddie is creative. He hosts big bonfire ragers out in the woods, deep enough that the cops can't easily break them up.

Eddie's "Munson Doctrine" is from the perspective of being a jock. Mixed with his insecurities, it becomes about staying on top, no matter what. That means dating around, taking girls out most Fridays. He likes girls and has plenty of fun. And if he occasionally slips in a fantasy or two about drug dealer Steve Harrington pinning him against a wall with that knife of his, no one needs to know.

Steve

Then we have Steve. Steve's had piano lessons since he was 5. A framed picture of him in his bow tie and tiny suit at his first recital sits on his mom's desk. He's good at sports and does Little League as a kid, but they don't hold his interest, not the way music does. When he hits middle school, him and his dad have a huge fight over him refusing to try out for any sports. The cracks were already there, because his parents are louder than they think when they argue. To drown them out, he turns on the radio, spinning the dials. By chance, he finds a Black Sabbath song. Something in it speaks to him, gives an outlet to the frustration and anger he's feeling.

Steve picks up drums to play in band at school, but he also borrows books from the library and teaches himself guitar after begging his mom for one for his 13th birthday. He makes a few friends, they start a band. As he enters high school his parents fight more. His grades, never great to begin with, slip further, so no more allowance for Steve. The first time he tries to steals a tape, he's caught almost immediately. But he gets better at it over time. Can't steal tattoos though, and Steve's not a great artist. So maybe he starts dealing. His parents work late most nights, so they don't need to know about his...extracurricular hobbies.

Even if he's not at the top of the high school food chain, Steve's still good at reading people and social situations. I don't think he would have the desire to DM AD&D, but I think Steve makes a good player, always solid at strategizing. In the hallways, he sees and overhears things, enough that he's able to keep the heat off him and his friends with some clever insinuation, and the threat to cut off anyone who tries something.

He sees the way that loudmouth jock Eddie Munson's eyes flick down to his lips when he buys weed off him at parties too, the guy isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. Steve would love to take him down a couple pegs, if Eddie'd let him.

Thanks to @little-annie for some ideas on fleshing metalhead!Steve out more :D

Edit: check out the role reversal steddie tag for snippets of what Annie and I are writing now :)

No pressure tags to some folks (and if anyone wants to be tagged in the future let me know!): @augustjustice @hbyrde36 @puppy-steve @soaringornithopter

@hairstevington @eyesofshinigami

[narcissistcookbook]

about thirteen or fourteen years ago @inkylizard told me about this show Sleep No More (description beneath the cut) they'd seen in an early run in Boston, and i had such bittersweet feelings listening to them talk about it because 1) it was absolutely my kind of thing, and 2) it was basically impossible to see it because it was so far away (i'm Scotland-based)

and since then i probably thought about the show more than most people who have seen it. i ended up working some of what kit described to me into my own music and shows, in a very vague sense

anyway, fast forward over a decade and i'm in NYC for ten days prior to tour and kit tells me that Sleep No More is still on, and it's about to close forever so this is my first and last chance to see it

so anyway

i finally saw it and it was amazing. for once hype wasn't the joy killer. it was inspiring and empowering and it's made me want to explore some of the more outlandish ideas that have been tickling my brain in terms of music writing/performance

i almost went again today, but low energy mixed with a fear of not wanting to dilute the magic by returning to the source convinced me otherwise. i think it means more to me to wait over a decade to see it, and then never be able to see it again.

Brief description of Sleep No More if you haven't seen it and aren't aware of it, told from the perspective of someone who had it described to them once and then saw it once 13 years later and has done no reading or research beyond that. Apologies if I describe it in a way that makes you squirm and go "nooo you aren't explaining it right" 💜

Sleep No More is an adaptation of Macbeth told mostly through the medium of Dance and Vibes. It takes place across the breadth and depth of an entire five floor building called the McKittrick Hotel, which is a dreamlike network of TV/movie-quality sets (a ballroom, a hotel, a city apartment, hell, a street of open shops, a mental hospital, a forest, witches' dens, a huge room full clocks connected to a tiny prayer vestibule, there's too many to mention) and masked audience members are encouraged to wander freely and explore the entirety of the building in any way they like

all the sets are fully explorable and designed to be examined in close detail. if you dig around you'll find letters, medical records, diaries, a fully stocked and unguarded sweet shop, hidden dressing rooms, discarded props, again much more than I could list off here. rooms have backrooms which have other backrooms. secret passageways connect parts of the building/story to other parts.

and through all this the cast are whirling and screeching and sprinting from place to another with little regard for who is or isn't following their storyline. at one point I was one of only two people watching an actor sew up a disembowled teddybear in a child's bedroom - and in the mirror, the same bedroom was reflected covered in blood. at another I was the only person watching a nurse tuck a man made of rocks into a hospital bed. at another, I turned a corner and one of the witches (with about twenty people in tow struggling to keep up) barrelled into me on their way to a scene elsewhere (he stopped and gave me a boop on the nose). another time, i walked into what I thought was an empty interrogation room only to realise after *far too long* that one of the characters was hiding in there with me

and on top of all this, each character has a scene they will only perform to one other audience member chosen by them

the magic for me is that not only can you not see the whole show in a single visit, but that it's basically impossible for anyone to see the whole show period no matter how hard they try. someone i know has seen it seven times and i've seen parts of it that they didn't even know about. it creates a sense of longing for what you'll never see, a sense of loss for the parts you missed, and a deep sense of personal connection with what you were lucky enough to see

what a banger

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

oh, hi! look here again-

So I've had this question in my head for days and decided to ask

because my brain couldn't take it anymore

so your modern teachers au was the first fanfic and because of it I met you and this chase young and first ninja ship

so I would like to ask

Do you intend to bring more fanfics in this universe? and maybe if you could you could give some curiosities about the au

of the other characters who were? wuya, daishi

jack spicer (this one in particular since I love jackie boy), nomi

(from the pragagonistas if you want too.)

and a question that I really have - Hannibal Roy Bean

and the wizard and the sorceress exist in this au? If so, what are they?

I have to admit that I may have once imagined Hannibal as a crime figure but I realized that it didn't make much sense.....

well that's it! I hope you are having a pleasant day when you see this

If not- get better!

XOXOXO! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Oh, but it makes me blush, that your first introduction to My Immortal Soul was Mentors AU! This AU is kinda of my selfish indulgence AU (like most AUs are lol), but it makes me happy you liked it enough to check out the rest of my stuff! Thank you. 🤗❤️

There are actually a few fics that I sorta planned out for this AU. 😌😌 There are around 2-3 stand alone one-shot ideas in the same universe, loosely following Chase and Norisugi's relationship. One of them is about some students following them on their 'date' outing! 😁 Basically a fun 'Randy and Xiaolin Monks + some others spying on their teachers' idea, haha. ;) The other ideas are addressing both of their pasts and how it affects their current relationship with each other.

No idea when I'll write those out, tho! I'm in a bit of writing block right now sadly. 😴 😭 But I will gladly share some headcanons/backstories for some characters, since you asked so nicely! ❤️

Wuya & Dashi - they are both Professors in the same University, with Wuya teaching Business Analytics and Dashi being a Workshop Instructor (specifically Restoration and Preservation of Artifacts Workshop which would explain his connection with Chase, since they are both in Archeology/History business of sort) and as I hinted in the fic: they have a past relationship with each other! Their current relationship status is complicated, but they have separated and gotten back together on multiple occasions. They often behave like mortal enemies on campus (mostly from Wuya who behaves like she despises Dashi at times), so a lot of students are often confused if they are fighting or flirting, considering Dashi's non-confrontational and cheery/flirty personality. Amongst their mutual friends (like Chase), they just behave like an old gossipy married couple, haha.

Jack Spicer - Jack is a student at the Uni, an undergraduate in Business department and a Teaching Assistant to Prof. Wuya, but its actually not by his own choice! Since Jack is a genius in many aspects, Uni is pretty easy for him and originally he planned to fast track through fields that are of interest to him, like engineering and connected fields, but his parents interfered. His father said that the only way Jack can pursue his own interest in engineering is to also get a degree in business first (for the sake of family business), and since he had connection in Uni and with Wuya, he ensured that Jack did not slack off and that Wuya kept an eye on him. Ironically enough, through Wuya, Jack met Dashi and through his workshop he burnt a lot of his engineering/creative energy, which made him interested in artifact restoration and archaeology and all the tech that is involved in it. In a way, Dashi became his mentor, along with Wuya. (Yes, sue me but i like my little pseudo family. ;) ) Also! With his new interest in Archaeology, he discovered Chase Young and became a fan of him, because he is like a real life Indiana Jones but cooler and more handsome, lol. Because of that he really wants to become Chase's TA, but because of his father's and Wuya's agreement, it won't happen. Aside from that, Chase also never wanted any assistants.

NinjaNomicon - Nomi became an orphan around their late teens, but through sheer determination and will, they reached great heights in their academic pursuits. So much so, that they managed to send themselves overseas from Japan to study in a good University. However after arriving, they felt a bit overwhelmed, which caused some discontent in their life, as they tried to find some direction. After first year of Uni, they realized that they had trouble feeling passionate about subjects and choosing their majors and classes. One of the Professors, Norisugi, noticed their struggle and suggested a Mentor/Mentee programme, and his own help. Their shared land of origin and Norisugi's understanding of Nomi's struggles really helped Nomi find their course and balance and allowed the two of them to become very close, to the point that after finishing Undergraduate courses, Nomi asked if they could become Norisugi's TA, while they finished their Master's degree.

Hannibal Roy Bean - one of the fic ideas i had was actually related to Chase's past and how Roy was involved with it. So, since I don't want to spoil the (very) possible future fic, I will just say that Hannibal Roy Bean? Definitely not a good person in this universe. But he held a position of authority/mentorship in Chase's past, and they had a relationship that soured, thanks to the fact that Roy is an evil bastard, lol.

Sorcerer & Sorceress - like with Roy, both of them were part of Norisugi's past, though it is much less fleshed out in what capacity. But I can say for certain that whatever their relationship with Norisugi was, and their actions, caused him to leave his family back in Japan and move all alone to America, to where his best friend Plop Plop was. So it's safe to say, that they were not great people either. ;) (Why, yes, I have a little bit of angsty ideas for my boys' pasts lol).

And that's about it.