#which I do NOT have any motivation to make right now

[syluspen]

push-ups with sylus

note: hello, its been a very long while 😭. tbh this is the only one i have written in the drafts :"). havent had any inspirations to write smth, and i saw the notifications from asks and got me motivated to write another new draft while i can. i’m also very busy with university rn so huehue.

to the person who asked if i got the asks, yes i did 🥹. i’m not sure how to write your request, i have it on my prompt list ideas, but no promises 🥹

Imagine sylus doing push-ups and you are… underneath him. He’s wearing his sports outfit, the one he usually wears when he boxes—a black sleeveless fitting top and those short shorts that always make you feel things. This man’s closet is full of pants and it just makes you feral seeing his exposed legs. Now you are so close to him, literally underneath him, as he does his daily quota of push-ups as part of his workout routine.

You’re so focused on him—the way he goes up and down above you, his heavy breaths (i know he’s doing it on purpose), and his intense stare at you—that you can hear your own heart beating right on your ears. You’re not the one doing the intense push-ups yet your body feels so hot, tense, and sweating profusely.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” you can hear the amusement in his teasing tone, knowing his effect on you.

“Shut up,” you looked away from him, instinctively pushing him away, your hands on his chest, which made you pull away in an instant. That was a mistake.

“Getting handsy, kitten?”

“It was a mistake!”

You tried getting up but he stopped you, holding your hand down, pinning it beside your head. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Sylus let me go! This is already embarrassing enough!”

He stared at you, smirking, “You’re cute like this, underneath me.”

Your face felt hotter, “stop itttt!!”

Additional slight NSFW

i just know while he does his push-ups with you underneath, he will purposely go so low and let you feel his bulge kskdkskksksksk and he's gonna act like it wasn't on purpose or like nothing happened, if that happened to me i would sprea— 👹🔫

I don’t know how to end what i write as always. Do expect this session is just gonna be sylus teasing you until you are a hot mess.

[persicipen]

𑑛 “IN HIS HANDS” ﾉ ALHAITHAM. GENSHIN IMPACT

gn reader ﾉ words 1.4k ✘ you’re a mess (affectionately). needy making out. sweet bantering. also fingering. he gives you the best orgasm of your life ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Whatever has happened between you two — an exchange of sorts, that’s for sure, filled with misunderstood sentences and apologies and laughter — now dawns on you in the form of his handsome body closing the distance between you two. Alhaitham grins at that, such a smug smile of victory painting his face because he’s well aware that your initial reluctance was because of your bashfulness.

Still, he’d appreciate it a lot if you weren’t so quick to call him a blockhead when denying what you truthfully want. He knows you don’t mean anything bad by it; just some harmless teasing to get back at him when he makes jokes about the time when he couldn’t speak right with a hint of self-derision.

“I’m starting to think you’re too scared to admit I will make you feel a tad too good, hmm.” His lips find yours once again, but this time they have no hurry — the kiss is deep and passionate and every inch of his body comes to meet with yours, trapping your frame underneath.

“You t-think of yourself too highly!” You bite back with a giggle before a low moan of contentment escapes your mouth.

For someone so inscrutable around the edges he sure knows how to work that tongue, tasting every part of you with utmost care. In between kisses, you realise how silly all this is. Why can’t you just let go of any formality and give in to such a splendid idea? If not for you, then at least for him; he seems to have much better plans and an even absurder mind than you ever dared to explore. Surprisingly, as stiff as he appears at first glance because no way anyone would assume a scribe has such lewd thoughts running wild behind those turquoise eyes.

Well, you aren’t so dull-witted either. A bold move of your fingers against his pants makes him hum a wee louder, which encourages you to act with a bit more urgency and tug at the buttons to get them loose. Albeit it takes but one swift movement from his hand to stop you from doing so — he grabs your wrist midway and pulls away just enough to look down at you with mischief gleaming in his red irises. The kind of gleeful expression only a man who knows what’s coming next would show.

“Tch, how impatient can you be…”

You should’ve counted his remark as a threat given the treatment that follows. You should’ve known that the greatest weapon of the scribe is his fingers. And so, with touching and pressing and tapping and massaging, he moulds your body into that pliant self. His name leaves your lips as a quiet sigh, all previous complaints forgotten thanks to such attentive and tender ministrations.

No matter how heavenly it feels already, being touched and taken care of like this, your gut churns with frustration and dissatisfaction since his actions are purposely geared towards getting you riled up instead of helping you reach any sort of release. Though you aren’t about to ask for that with words, not yet anyway. If he needs more incentive to keep going further, though…

You attempt to untangle your trapped arm once again, fumbling a little while holding onto his shoulder. He arches an eyebrow with curiosity when his own light gasp breaks through the facade of such an adept liar. Still, the twitch and swelling of his cock in his pants confirm how much it took out of him to keep silent thus far.

“Why won’t you let yourself go, too?” You breathe out once your wrist is freed. The pads of your fingers tease his jawline, ghosting over his skin until they dip below his chin to lift his head slightly. He is confused by your inquiry, but not discouraged, per se, especially now that you look quite motivated to get him hot as well. “You think the only one enjoying this should be me… What happened with ‘I also deserve some of it’, huh?”

Your free hand slides downwards to grasp his crotch. Through the thick fabric, you notice how hard he is; that must’ve been painful indeed. It’s enough evidence for you to rub and squeeze a little, which prompts a satisfied growl from him, a sign that you’re right on track.

“Later. It is about you, after all.” His response comes in the shape of kisses along your neck and collarbones, though never enough to bruise — merely a tiny amount of pressure for you to remember it’s he who left them there.

At times, it almost tickles how delicate his lips are upon your skin, like feathers falling down a flock of birds flying high in the skies. The warmth that emanates from them, however, reminds you of where else you’d like to feel those lips. Alas, he works on you with his thumb and his other digits instead, stroking in circular motions that cause goosebumps to run up and down your whole figure.

It isn’t long until you arch your back ever so slightly, trying to escape what’s beginning to drive you insane; or at least crave something more than that. Every nerve under your sensitive spots is alight, yearning for more stimulation than his meek actions, even when that palm of his brushes against every sensitive area that turns your vision blurry.

You beg him to slow down, to give you some time to relax after barely reaching your high; he is merciless, dragging the pads of his fingers against the spongy spot deep inside of you, trying to force out of you another cry of pleasure. It crashes upon you like thunder during a heavy storm. Alhaitham’s touch makes you clench and curl into yourself without an ounce of shame. All of your attention lays solely on those fingertips dancing so flawlessly through your throbbing body, driving you mad.

His eyes, burning with a prideful need to prove his knowledge, are focused on your glowing face. Absolutely mesmerised by the moans escaping your mouth, Alhaitham finds a great passion in making you a mess — it feels so good knowing he can reduce you to such a state, mewling his name with tears gathering under your lashes.

He takes you into his muscular arms, tongue licking your tender skin, leaving behind wet trails. A shudder runs through you as he pulls back, your body falling limply on the plush mattress below you. His breath is heavy and ragged, looking at you like this — with lust. Once he is satisfied, he lets go of the last drops of moisture that managed to make it to your thighs. He draws himself closer to you, resting his forehead against yours as he whispers sweet praise into your ear.

“You were doing so well…” Spoken in his breathy, shuddering voice, it echoes through your heart, down to your core clenching on nothing but the remaining wetness.

It only makes you feel even more sensitive than before, and you cannot help but let out an audible moan again. You can almost hear the sound vibrating throughout his body as well, and he knows he will not have the strength to stop now, especially after what just happened between you. He kisses your neck once more, his hand reaching underneath your blouse, running his rough fingertips along your skin.

You whine again, sensing goosebumps rise all over your figure at his touch. He begins kissing all of your face, leaving you gasping for air. You close your eyes tightly and try to keep your breathing steady, but his hands roam through your chest, teasing you in a way that seems to know your weakest spots — driving you crazy.

After a while, when his lips leave your skin, the scribe rests his chin on your shoulder, both of you staring at each other without saying a word.

“Are you still okay?” he asks softly, a gentle smile playing around his mouth and his fingers trailing gently up your stomach.

“I am. I’m sorry I ruined the bedsheets though,” you say apologetically, feeling the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

You have never done anything like this before. Never experienced anything of such intensity.

“It’s fine,” he replies, a small laugh breaking past his lips as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again…” he whispers seductively, his gaze fixated on yours.

Your cheeks burn, and you nod slowly, biting your lip as you turn your head away from him, trying so hard not to show how affected you are. It isn’t easy, seeing Alhaitham looking at you in that kind of manner. How could you refuse this man?

[pinktwinkiezoppo]

imagine Bad Ben or Mad Ben teaming up with Dark Danny (granted I think Dark Danny would likely betray them both but the team up would be fun while it lasts)

That would be a fun concept but wouldn't Eon and Dark Danny teaming up make more sense..? I mean Eon IS a evil version of Ben from the future (I feel like a lot of people forget that for some reason)

I can see Eon and Dark Danny teaming up and recruiting the evil Bens (again) and Bad and Mad end up acting like Eons children and Dark Danny is their grumpy step-father

You're right though Dark Danny would betray them (but Eons gonna go for alimony)

[ceramicbeetle]

Desperately trying to make sense of Alex's motivations in Season Two and you know, I do eventually have to wonder if maybe Alex wasn't actually lying in the majority of those tapes.

Like, we tend to assume that Alex's motivations have been a consistent throughline since the college years, but do we actually know that that's the case? Do we know for sure that Alex was acting in deliberate, calculated ways in 2006; or could it be that he's telling the Truth on those olds tapes when he says he's blacking out and can't remember what's happening to anyone? After all, if we're assuming that Season 2 Alex's motivations are the exact same as his motives in Season 3, then it doesn't make any sense at all that he spend months working with Jay to try to find Amy; Season 3 Alex would have attempted to kill Jay like, on sight just to get things over with as quickly as possible and contain the spread of contamination as best as he could.

But, maybe, if Alex really had been separated from Amy after the events of the 04-04-10 tape, and if he really doesn't know where she is, then maybe that could make things start to make more sense. Maybe he really had been watching Jay's channel, and seeing Jay start going through the same things he went through in college without things devolving into violence and disappearances, and wondered if things maybe could play out differently this time. Maybe he really did send that tape to Jay to ask him for help, maybe he really was just trying to find Amy.

But then, instead of actually being helpful, Jay makes it extremely clear that he's a lot more interested in stalking Alex than he is in finding Amy. Alex asked for help, and instead there's a bunch of masked dudes on Jay's heels that keep attacking him, Jay is breaking into his house, stealing his things, leading the Operator right to him all over again, keeps trying to get other people (namely: Jessica -- if Alex is being honest when he says that his call reassuring her that Amy had been found was an effort to make Sure she stayed away from everything that was happening) involved; and instead of anything getting better, instead of anyone finding Amy, things are just getting worse all over again.

It's not until after the incident at the tunnel that things seem to start rapidly devolving. Rather than a calculated attempt to finally follow through with his need to curb the spread of contamination, this is very clearly an outburst of rage and terror. Alex's "I told you not to follow me" line in conjunction with Jay speculating that Alex didn't know who that guy was, to me, pretty firmly seems to speak to Alex having mistaken that stranger for Jay. From his point of view, Alex knows that Jay and totheark know where he live, have broken in before, he suspects that Jay stole a key to make it easier to get into his house, and he's been followed on the daily for months -- Alex is sitting at the tunnel because he doesn't know where else he can go without being constantly surveilled, hunted, and assaulted. And instead of getting a moment by himself to breathe, Jay followed him out there all over again (it feels like Alex looks directly at the camera in Jay's footage of him from this day; he knew for a fact that Jay was there), and then to make matters worse now 'Jay' won't even keep his distance anymore.

So Alex lashes out. And it's not until afterwards that he looks down and finally recognizes that this wasn't Jay -- it was someone completely innocent. Things have finally reached the low point he was at in college all over again; maybe even worse this time. If Alex doesn't remember attacking anyone in college, but he was at least partially conscious of it this time, then things have reached an entirely new rock bottom, they've reached an absolute point of no return.

He has no idea what happened to Amy, and he's spent months trying to find her with no hint of where she could be; he doesn't know where Jay actually is or what additional trouble he could be causing at this point; he does know that now innocent people are getting caught in the crossfire (in regards to the stranger in the tunnel, and also Jessica now that Jay has her phone number, and the untold number of people Jay got involved when he started posting videos to the Marble Hornets channel); things are spiraling out of control and there's no one left to ask for help. The situation isn't getting better, it's getting worse; things aren't getting easier to handle, they're just getting more out of hand; the negative impact is spreading and who knows how much further it can still go?

So, Alex decides to go scorched earth. He disfigures the body with the rock either to hide evidence or to make sure the guy would actually stay dead and not just get back up to start his own cycle of contamination in a few years. He tries to give Jay one last chance to back off, and Jay instead admits he's been talking to Jessica, acts obstinate and lies about not having Alex's spare key, and then breaks into Alex's house a second time (minimum). If Alex doesn't stop him now, who will? Alex met with Jay planning to kill the others, and then himself, so he could put a stop to this once and for all and keep things from getting any worse than they already were.

Maybe it makes a lot more sense if, rather than being a strangely incomprehensible detour on what should have been a straight path, the events of Season Two were the breaking point that put Alex on that path to begin with.

[chainsawworld]

Imalways so torn up between letting myself feel negative emotions besides anger cause I never do and being like wellllllll... it IS nearly 9 so really none of these are Real emotions so what's the point?

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A drawing of two scavengers from Rain World, one labelled Sanic and the other one Shrek. Sanic's fur is light brown, with darker extremities, a messy row of pale green spines down its back, and bright blue eyes. They sit contentedly, staring at the screen, with a couple grenades by its feet. Shrek has pale fur, a green head, hands, and feet, and brown eyes. It's facing to the right, with their arms splayed out and an explosive spear on their back. Beside each scavenger are a few woefully-compressed screencaps of their in-game appearance. End ID]

An ode to these silly beasts, who accompanied me on my second visits to Industrial and Chimney

[rindemption]

I have a question

Posting my drawing practice and doodles and wips has, in the past, been a pretty effective way to get me to keep drawing. Accountability and all that.

Would there be any interest in seeing those posts here on my main blog, or would people rather I kept it to a side blog?

[daz4i]

how to stop thinking any good thing someone says to you (like compliments or being proud of you or other positive expressions such as these) is a lie just to be polite or bc they're biased and thus can't judge you work and your being objectively bc they love you. asking for a friend

[goatsorcery]

i know so much writing advice boils down to "what some people hate other people will love and vice versa" but honestly thats it though; like going on goodreads or other similar sites and reading one-star reviews for your favorite books/popular books is so reassuring because you will find that the things that made people hate it are often the things that made you love it!

[rubys-domain]

i might be terrible for feeling like this. but the sheer amount of schadenfreude i have after finding out that freminet is likely going to be a shit unit is through the roof lmao

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[arolesbianism]

Oh also oni limbus au. Is this anything. (It's not)

[bredforloyalty]

i had a good day i like having things to do but unfortunately i have just remembered i am insane</3

[neverendingford]

.

[alaskan-wallflower]

wonderful, one of those times where everything i’ve pushed down just bubbles up. great.