#which doesn't make the fact that i may or may not get a refill (at all) before i get my yknow what even MORE FUN

[bunnyb34r]

Man I love having mood swings again

So fun! Having time of my life! I wanna die! Having a blast!

[be-with-me-so-happily]

il gran finale

ONE SHOT

Summary: As photography apprentice to Lloyd Wakefield, you have been around Harry quite a lot on tour, capturing all the mesmerizing moments on stage. But at the after party of the final show in Reggio Emilia, he seems to be the one zoned in on you.

AN: I don't know if this is any good. I haven't written smut in so long, but with Love On Tour coming to an end, I needed to do something!

Warnings: Some explicit language, alcohol consumption, mild exhibitionism kink, fingering, public unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it people)

You've always known Harry Styles is a gentleman. Even before you took on the role of apprentice photographer to Lloyd Wakefield, you only ever heard positive comments about the man, about how kind and caring he is. No one ever has a bad thing to say, and touring with him has only proven those things to be true. He is a sweet guy, just as everyone claims him to be.

That's his reputation. His public reputation.

But the way his enchanting and lustful green eyes have locked in on you for the past several minutes has made you think of nothing but the other reputation he has. The dream that you and thousands of his fans indulge in. The fantasy of him taking control of every single part of you, of using you, of pleasing you. Of giving you everything he has while you are under him, and on top of him, and in front of him, and…

You reset yourself as nearby laughter pulls you out of those delicious yet indelicate thoughts, ones you may need to draw upon later in the privacy of your hotel room.

It's bad enough that he has a flirtatious side. The subtle winks, the cheeky smiles, the wiggles of his eyebrows when a mildly indecent comment has been made. Usually by him. Both on and off stage, each of those gestures can easily get you flustered.

And it definitely doesn't make your job any easier, especially considering it's your assignment to watch him, to photograph him, to view him in a variety of different angles, none of which could be considered unflattering. He always looks good.

The outfit tonight, the shaggy silver get-up, showcasing his glistening pecs and chiseled abs, only added to the assortment of desires you only dwell upon alone at night. You're usually very composed, for the most part. You know how to play it cool.

But right now, as his stare exhibits something primal, you feel as if your entire body is on fire, and you can't help but be engulfed by the flames.

Clinking of the ice in your glass as you bring it to your lips alerts you to the fact that your drink has been fully consumed, and you decide to head to the bar for a refill. If not just for another drink, then for the moment of solidarity to gather yourself and bring some air back into your lungs. Because you are sure it's not the alcohol that's causing you to feel so dizzy.

"Hi, could I please hav-"

"Another margarita?" You hear in a deep, sultry, British voice sounding out from behind you. Right behind you.

"Yes please." You utter, almost inaudibly, to the bartender, the heat from before intensifying with each breath of Harry's that you feel on your neck.

"And I'll have two shots of Tequila, please sir." He states, so casually, as you stand frozen in place.

A cold breeze hits your skin as you see him move around and position himself to your left, leaving you to miss the warmth he was just providing.

"You look like you're having a good time." He states, as he brings his glass to his lips. You watch as the rim rests on them. You watch as the liquid slides between them. And you watch as a smirk pulls in the mischievous dimple that he is so well known for, unintentionally licking your own lips in the process.

"Sorry… what were you saying?" You ask, attention moving back to his gaze and finding those glistening green irises already locking in on your eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" He chuckles in response to your question, leaving your heart pounding with embarrassment.

"I am!" You exclaim, quicker than anticipated, clearly not playing it cool like you believe you usually do.

"Good." He replies simply.

"Are you?"

"I am." He nods, his eyes quickly flickering down your body, before switching their focus back to the bar, creating a warmth between your legs, and you try desperately not to squirm.

"Good." You reply, with a giggle, finally taking the sip of margarita that has unknowingly been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. "So we're both enjoying ourselves."

He chuckles along with you, shaking his head as he throws back his second shot. He swallows it harshly, drawing your eye to the way his Adam's apple bobs with the consumption of the liquor. You notice his body begin to turn towards you, and as you glaze up his neck to his gorgeous face, a lustful expression falls over it. His brows narrow, and deviancy sparks in his eyes, turning them to a deep, enticing emerald.

"Want to enjoy each other now?"

"Sure, that-" You begin to respond, but your eyes begin to travel down to his lips, noticing how his teeth dig into the bottom one. His look of determination makes you wonder if there's a more devious meaning behind it, and that thought alone causes an extreme yearning between your legs. "Wait… what do you mean?"

He leans against the bar, his tattoo-covered forearm resting on top, as the palm of his right hand gently slides over your hip and draws you closer with the mildest press of his fingertips against your dress.

"YN, I just had one of the best nights of my fucking life! I want to celebrate. Really celebrate."

"And… how-... umm… how do you want to really celebrate?" You chuckle nervously, every hair on your body standing straight, every nerve on high alert.

"I can show you. If you want me to." He utters, almost a whisper, barely audible in the jumble of conversations surrounding you, but loud enough that it sends the coldest shiver down your spine. He leans closer, his body following along until you are only inches apart. "And considering how tightly your thighs are clenched together right now… I think you do."

Your mouth instantly drops open, and if he wasn't actually correct, and those contracted muscles weren't holding you upright, your legs would have buckled beneath you.

"C'mon." He whispers, softly running two fingers down your arm and grabbing your hand, pulling your body to follow him.

"Harry, wait." You manage to get out, surprisingly, considering the daze he's just put you in. "This… is your party..."

"Yeah." He states, shrugging so casually as he turns back to look at you. "So?"

"We can't just leave!"

Harry stops his trek, along with your heart. He swivels around, the most salacious smirk wide across his face, and to your surprise, you manage to clench your core even tighter.

He leans down to your ear, his lip barely grazing the bottom, his breath steady but thick.

"Who said anything about leaving?"

An exhale releases all the air held in your lungs, leaving you unsure whether it is the margaritas or his suggestive statement that's making your head spin.

He turns back and maneuvers through the crowd of people that have come to congratulate and party with him. But he seems to be a man on a mission.

Through the dim lights and the loud thumps of the music filling the room, you somehow find yourself looking at a staircase leading up the the second floor of the venue.

"Just us?" You hear Harry ask the security staff member guarding the way.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." He responds with a quick nod.

Without hesitation, Harry leads you up, each step building the anxious anticipation inside of you. It's not even clear what may be waiting for you at the top, but if Harry's apparent determination is any indication, it won't be boring.

As you reach the landing, you do a quick scan of your surroundings, seeing a couple of purple velvet sofas pushed against the wall. He takes you further in, letting go of your hand and placing both of his large palms on the thick, black railing in front of him. You stand at his side, copying his stature, though feeling the sweat of your hands being transferred to the metal within them.

The neon flashing of lights is the only thing brightening the venue, as the music sounds and provides a rhythm for the rest of the attendees to move their bodies to. You feel Harry's closest arm glide its way across your back, settling itself on your opposite hip, and squeezing with enough firmness to tell you he wants to be gentle with you, but also wants not to be.

The rest of his figure moves along behind you, pulling you closer to him, as if your bodies had an unretractable magnetic connection. The warmth of his lips suddenly hits right below your ear, causing every muscle you have to practically melt under that simple touch.

"Harry…" You utter, unsure if you've been heard over the sound of the new song beginning to play. "People could see us…"

"Doubtful." He mumbles, his breath tickling down your neck. "No one's looking anyway."

Another kiss moistens your skin, and your head falls backwards to him, resting against his broad, strong shoulder, encouraging him to continue his tantalizing exploration.

He grazes your hips with his palms, running them up and down the tops of your thighs, letting out a heavy exhale when he stops at the hem of your dress. His fingertips tease the edge, sliding around to the front. One hand lifts up to your waist, while the other glides around to your inner thigh, and you could swear your panties are already soaked.

"Do you like this?" He whispers in your ear, and with the state of daze he currently has you in, all you can manage is a subtle nod. "Tell me. Do you like this?"

"Y-yes." You breathe out.

"Do you want more?" He asks in the lowest tone he's ever spoken in, barely needing to convince you that he'll give you whatever you want.

"Yes." You reply, anticipation thick in your stomach.

His fingers run up and under your dress, and you thank yourself for picking the shorter of your two options when you were getting ready for the party.

You attempt to push him back a few paces to the closest velvet sofa for some privacy, but he stands solid in place and you stretch your neck to get as good of a look at him as you can.

"Stay." He states simply, not a demand that you couldn't reject, but the way his tone hit your soul, you can't even imagine refusing him of almost anything he wanted.

Suddenly your body jumps, as you feel mild pressure slowly moving up the center of your panties.

"Soaked." Harry whispers. "Didn't realize I got you this wet, this fast."

His teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe, as his fingers snap the fabric of your underwear, causing you to let out the most pathetic and needy whimper.

"Harry… please." You whine, desperate for something, anything, that he is willing to give you.

"What do you want, YN?"

"Touch me." You reply, your legs already weak at the thought.

He listens, running his index along your center, feeling how slick he's made you. Suddenly, he dips it inside of you, and you worry he could make you cum right here and now. But god you want to feel so much more. You want him to give you so much more.

Slowly, his finger pulls out, but immediately glides back in, accompanied by another, pumping them both in unison, and sending your head into a spin.

"Do you want more?" He asks into your ear.

"Yes." You barely reply, hoping with all you have that he heard your response.

He adds one more finger, and the trio pick up their pace as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.

"Oh my god." You whine, feeling a sensation ripple through your body. Nothing you've done to yourself, alone with just your thoughts of him, could ever compare to the feeling of what he's doing to you now.

In and out, his fingers pump, and you're sure if the music suddenly stopped, the noise of his motions would echo from wall to wall.

"You're so tight." He utters. "Don't know if you'd be able to handle my cock."

Just the mention of that word has you moaning, so you reach your arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, and you tilt your head towards him.

"I want that."

"You want what?" He asks, quickening his pace, and halting your words until you swallow the lump that's caught in your throat.

You look down, scanning the crowd for any prying eyes, only to find everyone distracted by their own activities below. Although, at this moment, you aren't sure if that matters to you. If that would stop you.

"I want your cock." You admit, using your free hand to push in between your two bodies and palm over his hard bulge, the feeling of his thick girth creating an even deeper yearning for it.

"Fuck." He growls, his cock twitching under the fabric of his pants.

The emptiness created as his fingers leave your body almost has you wishing you hadn't made any other request, but as you feel his waistband tug down, and the bare skin of his cock as it springs out from its confines and back into your hand, you get wetter than you've been in any moment before.

A strong thigh parts your legs, the back of your dress inches up, and as you feel his long, thick cock glide between them and coat itself in your wetness, Harry lets out a deep, rumbling growl. He runs one hand up your spine and pushes slightly on your back, getting you to bend over a bit and prop yourself up with your hands gripping the railing.

There's never been a desperation so intense as now, as you feel Harry's tip tease your entrance. You've never wanted anything more than the sensation of him pushing into you, stretching you out, giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.

"Think you can fit me inside there?" He asks, the smugness more enticing than you could have imagined possible. But his words, his touch, his everything is overwhelming and rendering you speechless. Then you hear Harry hum, as if knowing your inability to reply, and answering it for himself. "I think you can."

And just like that, he slips in. Slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size each time he pushes in a little further. Filling you completely with every inch he goes deeper, until all you feel is him. Until all you know is him.

"Oh my god." You moan out, unaware if it has been drowned out by the music and chatter of everyone else.

He quickens his pace slightly, and your hold on the railing tightens, not only to steady yourself, but also to possibly disguise your actual activities as simply enjoying the rhythm of the song.

"All these people… and no one knows what we're doing up here." Harry grunts as he thrusts into you, drawing out another, yet much heavier, moan from your chest. It's followed by a pleased groan from behind you, the sound almost as good as any song he's ever sung. "But I wouldn't care if they did… if they saw how well you're taking me… and if they heard much you love it."

"Harry…" You whine, as an extreme sensation builds in your core, feeling every nerve peek, alerting you to the fact that at any moment now, you'll be completely taken over by the intense amount of pleasure he's giving you. "I need to-"

"No." He states sternly.

"Please!" You beg, all dignity being tossed aside.

"Not yet." He replies, and all of a sudden, you feel hollow. Something is missing, and as you feel yourself clear out from the heightened state of a daze you've been in since you reached that second level of the venue, you realize his glorious cock is no longer inside of you.

"What-" You begin, stepping back and turning around to face him, finding his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, creating an even stronger desire to have him fill the gap again.

"I need to fuck you harder, and faster." He explains grabbing both hips as he backs up and lowers down to take a seat on the sofa. "And I need to watch you when you cum all over my cock."

A shallow breath makes its way out between your lips at his statement, and you slowly lower yourself to straddle his lap, feeling a throb inside yourself as you feel another underneath you.

Your hips begin to grind on him, hoping to create an impatience in him as strong as the one in you. You cup his cheeks within your palms and bring your lips to his, smiling against them as they part and release a deep moan. You move to kiss his jaw, letting the stubble tickle your skin and you make your way down his neck. His hands begin to roam your body, exploring more than they had been able to when standing at the railing. They grip your back, your waist, and settle at your hips, gripping just tight enough to guide them back and forth.

"All I've thought about tonight… is having you like this." You hear him utter, the words hitting deep into the pit of your stomach. "Hell, all I think about most nights is… fuck… is having you like this!"

You pull back, your eyes immediately locking in on his, as if your bodies are confessing their deepest desires to each other in a secret, seductive language. Without a word, you push up on your knees, hovering over and inviting him back inside of you, where you want him the most. One of his hands holds his cock steady as the other remains on you, helping you to lower back down onto him. In this position, you can feel him ever more, much to your surprise considering he filled you so well just moments ago.

"Then fuck me how you've been wanting to." You state, your focus still fully on him.

As soon as he's given that permission, both palms squeeze tighter to your body, pulling you down on his cock as if to meld your bodies together.

"Oh god." He exclaims, throwing his head backwards to rest on the sofa, dropping his mouth open as you begin to bounce.

Almost instantly, with the new depth he's hitting, you feel your body reignited and a release drawing near.

"Harry, this is…" You mumble, the pleasure hindering a complete coherent sentence. "It's… how…"

"Tell me, baby." He replies, holding you down as he starts to thrust up into you, leaving you unable to feel anything other than him.

"This is how… oh my-… I've been wanting you… to fuck me, too…"

"F-... fucks sake!" He exclaims, no longer holding back his vigor as he goes as fast and gets as deep as he possibly can, causing moans to burst out from both of you.

"Harr-... I'm gon-..." You whine, trying to plead with him to get you over the edge and fall into a pool of ecstasy. The sight of his hair becoming messy with sweat, the feel of his hands holding you down, the taste of his skin on your lips, the smell of his cologne exuding off his chest, the sound of his breathy moans in your ear. He has completely taken over all of your senses, and you know this is the best experience you've ever had.

"Say it, YN. Look at me and say it." He growls, and as your eyes find his, the amount of lust in his begins to push you off the ledge.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Where?"

"On your cock!" You blurt, the level of volume coinciding with the intensity of your desperation. "I'm gonna cum on your cock."

"Do it." He commands, and with his permission, you immediately let go, completely melting into him as that desired ecstasy rips through your entire body.

Your face falls into the crook of his neck, only leaving enough room to draw in some shallow, labored breaths. You can feel Harry squirm beneath you, his stride becoming less rhythmic with each stroke into you, his chest rising and falling in the same, unsteady way.

"YN… if I can't cum inside you, tell me now, 'cause I'm… fuck, I'm so close."

Your head lifts and pulls away, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, pupils blown and a glaze covering them. You lean down to his ear, letting your breath puff gently over his skin.

"Cum inside of me, Harry." You whisper, placing a kiss right below his ear.

"Y-yeah? You want my cum?" He fumbles, his breathing becoming more random with every sloppy thrust. "I'll give you… f-fucking all of it!"

Harry grips tighter, bouncing you on himself with a determination you aren't sure if you've ever seen before. He lets out a moan so gritty you know it originated deep in his chest. The sound alone could have you orgasming again if it drew out a few seconds longer. It's accompanied by one last thrust of his hips and a powerful, pleased throbbing of his cock, as his cum coats your walls.

If the dj wasn't blasting anything through the speakers, the sound of your synchronized, labored breaths would be enough to fill the room. You sit up straighter, still straddling Harry's lap, and you finally take in the mess of a man in front of you. His head still rests back on the sofa, his eyes now shut, and a blissful smile stretched across his face.

"That's one way to finish a tour." You chuckle, pushing your palms against the fabric of the shirt now sticking to the drizzle of sweat on his chest.

His palms shoot up to your face, holding it so gently, but with an untapped passion behind his eyes. They flicker to your lips and he dives in for a taste, running his tongue along to part them, and sighing as your own tongue dances along. A pop sounds out as you pull apart, with just enough room for an inhale of air, and he rests his forehead against yours.

"And cheers to the next one."

Main Masterlist

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[anikasheep]

SCENTS - The Older Brothers

MC is a sweet adorable sheep, yes.

Lucifer

Lucifer is the type who desperately wants your scent to stay on him but doesn't want anyone to find out. It's not that he doesn't want people to know, but he doesn't want them to get the wrong impression that the Avatar of Pride has become a human captive.

It's you who should smell like him. He owns you, not you.

But there was a part of Lucifer that kept convincing him that he should at least smell like you.

Little Lamb is special, if other demons smell the scent of Little Lamb from you, doesn't that mean that Little Lamb, a human being, is recognized by Lucifer? How many humans have been recognized by Lucifer, who is at the top of the power in the entire demon world? Don't you want to see the group of sorcerers and witches looking enviously at the lamb? Not to mention the fact that you can see Solomon's eyes holding back his jealousy, which is definitely something worth doing!

You'll use a laundry detergent that smells like lamb and sneak it into your locker, and then the next morning, with a troubled look on your face, ask if you've seen his uniform.

Or he'll use the fact that he's too busy as an excuse to ask you to help him put away his clothes. He knows you can't resist stealing his shirt or jacket and taking pictures of him in his room. There's a popular custom called boyfriend shirts and he'll let you have it!

He will adjust to the lamb's acceptance of physical contact, from kisses to hugs, to fixing your fringe, to tying your hair (this usually happens before a big party, and Lucifer won't hesitate to steal Asmo's place of work, believe me).

If he doesn't really like the physical contact mentioned above, he will inadvertently put his right hand around your wrist and gently rub his thumb on your wrist. Lucifer one day accidentally discovered that this behavior can make you relax, and then you will smell even better.

Lucifer's study has a blanket which only MC and himself could use, every time the sheep study with Lucifer to deal with the student body affairs will be draped in this blanket. Lucifer refused to let anyone but himself and the lamb touch it, and he would ask the lamb to take the blanket with him when he washed his clothes for various reasons. Don't ask too many questions, you KNEW WHY.

Mammon

Invade your room, what's yours is his, offer him all you've got, he craves all you've got, lamb.

You've all slept together. I don't think he'll ever not smell like you.

He holds the lamb in his sleep and keeps saying the lamb's name under his breath.

More than once, he suggests to the sheep that they can wear his jacket if they are cold.

He is a cuddle fiend and will get next to you whenever he gets the chance, and will let you hug him from behind if you are okay with it. Loves to put his face close to your neck and shoulders, with the tip of his nose brushing against the arteries in your neck.

This way he can smell you at the same time, and then feel the pulse of your life, as long as it is about you, he craves hopelessly.

He's proud of the fact that he smells like you. After all, you're his human, his lamb.

He likes to use the excuse of wanting to sleep or something like that and puts his face close to the inside of your elbow, where the body temperature is high and the smell of you is strong. ←Birds

They may steal your body lotion and remember to refill it, but if you want them to stop, tell them to stop:

��Mammon, you're old enough to use your own body wash.”

“Huh? Oh sure, I'm a great Mammon, human.”

“Do you like the smell?”

“Is it the smell that counts, no! No! Yes! The point is that you use this body wash and it smells good, you little twerp. Uh...damn it!”

If it's okay, let's try inviting him to buy the same kind of body wash next time.

Leviathan

To be honest, I think this otaku is one of the seven brothers who know the most about this kind of thing, but this otaku is really too shy, so his way will be as euphemistic as Lucifer's.

He will take advantage of the time when you are playing together in his room and put his tail on your wrist or ankle.

His tail will take advantage of the time you play together in his room to rest on your wrists or ankles, his tail can feel your smallest heartbeat and tremors, and for some reason, it can also feel your most real emotional reaction.

He can't easily turn into a demon at school, so he's used to putting his hand around your wrist when he's anxious.

If you're generous enough to give him a hug, Leviathan will hold you tightly like an octopus, hooking his arms around your waist, and if anyone dares to try and separate the two of you, you'll see Leviathan make a hissing sound like a snake warning off its enemies.

There is a HANA RURI blanket around you two, and it's a cold night in the Demon World, so be sure to stay close to Leviathan to keep warm.

If you see Leviathan wriggling around with a familiar towel, blushing and asking you to wash it with him, please indulge him in his little request, lamb!

May fantasize about a lot of slightly perverse situations, but he knows those things are not acceptable and he respects your wishes. So accordingly, he may collect a set of HANA RURI clothing peripherals for you, shirts, jackets, scarves, etc., looking forward to you to satisfy this nerd's COSPLAY wishes and his hidden small one.

[daftpatience]

how would one get into fountain pens and inks ?? i’ve never liked using those 50 pens for a dollar types and only used fountain pens at school . honestly i’d love if you infodump at me about your favs pens, inks and how the tiktoks only show those glass pens with the swirls that slowly drip off ink and not any love for pens that hold ink themself

yaa sure!! and firstly i wanna say the reason you see a lotta glass dip pens on tiktok is simply because they are pretty and people think they are cool. dip pens have a lot of neat benefits of their own! dont let the bad app make u bitter abt em! (for example dip pens let you use a muuch wider range of inks made out of pigments that a fountain pen couldn't handle!)

but i digress. getting into fountain pens usually starts with an affordable one! (or a fancy hand me down if you're lucky!) jetpens & gouletpens are good shops to find fountain pens, and you may be lucky enough to live near a stationery shop that carries them, who knows!

generally good pens to start with are cheap enough that you won't feel too bad if it doesn't turn out to be your favourite but still a smooth writer. they should feel good in the hand and be refillable (since we are talking about avoiding disposable pens! but disposable fountain pens do exist.) generally these pens are in the $10-$30 range, but some cheaper pens like the platinum preppy and jinhao shark will surprise you!

especially worth taking into account with starting to get into pens is the nib size and filling mechanism!

nib size:

fountain pens generally come in Extra Fine, Fine, Medium, Broad, and Double Broad nib sizes, although there are other fancy ones like stub, flex, cursive, and left handed ones. (i am left handed and don't use them, so don't worry too much about that if you are.)

generally western nibs run a little broader than Japanese nib sizes, so keep that in mind when choosing a pen!

personally i find that finer nibs are more useful for me drawing-wise, and i enjoy broader nibs for writing (especially since i tend to draw in black and write in pretty colours i want to see more of!) this just applies to me of course ^u^

filling mechanisms:

fountain pens can come with ink cartridges (sometimes universal and sometimes proprietary) which tend to be a good choice for folks that like mess-free easy ways to reink a pen even when you're out and about. they do limit your selection of inks, though!

cartridge pens can usually be converted to piston fill/squeeze fill pens with a compatible converter, and some even come with one by default (like the jinhao shark!) some fountain pens (like TWSBIs) have a piston fill mechanism integrated into the entire barrel. (they have a very big ink capacity!) these converters/pens allow you to use any fountain pen ink you like, and also help make pen cleaning easier as you can take up and flush out water with it.

another type of fountain pen is eyedropper fill - where the entire barrel is watertight and you simply fill it with ink via eyedropper (or god forbid just pouring the ink from the bottle into it lol) these kinds of filling mechanisms are a lot messier and are generally done at home since you might not wanna bring ink bottles and paper towels along wherever you go, especially if they're big. some pens can be converted to eyedropper fill by making the barrels watertight with silicone grease on the threads & plugging any breather holes.

fun fact! ink cartridges are much more popular in europe, and bottled inks are more popular in america. idk why!

in terms of my favourite fountain pens, i very much like the TWSBI ECO/ECO T, LAMY safari, platinum preppy/plaisir, kaweco sport, and jinhao shark! they're all great and come in lots of fun colours and i want more twsbis so bad aaa

ok this is getting long but lets talk about inks!! im dying to talk about inks can we talk about inks

i already went over the difference between pigment and dye based inks here, so let's talk about what to think of when choosing an ink and also some of my favs!!

picking out an ink for your pen should consist of at least 3 factors!

make sure you are looking for fountain pen ink! (drawing inks & dip pen inks will clog a fountain pen!)

what colour do you want!!! (as a tip, light colours look even lighter when reduced to the fine line of a pen, and can sometimes be rather disappointing or hard to see. stick to broader nibs for those!)

do you need it to be water and/or highlighter proof?

most online shops let you filter to find what you're looking for, and most irl shops have sample cards for you to look through (while they may not show you about the waterproof part, generally the people working there should be able to tell you about it! most of the shops ive been to are staffed by fellow enthusiasts!)

aside from that you really can go nuts! there are inks with shimmer, inks that are suuuper bold and solid, some that vary in shade (and hue!) and some that develop a metallic sheen around the edge!

as for my favourite inks, i really like these and heres why!

pilot iroshizuku: they have some REALLY pretty colours. plus the bottles are big and very pretty!

Diamine: these inks come in some absolutely luscious colours (and TONS of sparkly shimmery options) and are known for being very consistently good performers across all their colours.

sailor: these inks are fancy and preddy and smell good to me wehehe

j. herbin: they make a green i really like >:) and also are popular for being good inks im pretty sure!

special extra shoutout to ferris wheel press: i havent actually gotten an ink from them i truly love yet (ive only ever tried a sample set of pastels and i like my inks darker) but their bottles are truly to die for.

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR COMING!! TO MY TED TALK!!! im fully info dumped out!!!! whee!

[horce-divorce]

And ykw, in re: queer people eating up terf rhetoric uncritically, I'm STILL reeling about how, when I came back from Twitter, i was seeing all these ads for Folx and Plume on Tumblr, and the ONLY comments and reblogs were attacks, things saying "this company exploits trans people, don't use it."

Plume is a company run BY trans people. It's a bunch of trans doctors who will prescribe you HRT via telehealth and do all your labs, refills, needles etc for like $99/mo (last time i checked). Folx is the same but a bit cheaper and operates in different states, in an attempt to cover gaps in trans Healthcare coverage.

As soon as I started blocking terfs I stopped seeing those comments. But I also stopped seeing anyone talking about Folx or Plume. Point blank. I dont even get the ads for it anymore. It's like everyone just absorbed the idea that they're "preying on trans people" by giving you HRT, which is TERF 101 LEVEL SHIT. None of you even fucking Googled it!!!

Like honestly I'm pretty bitter about this whole thing, and the fact that I've not yet seen ANYONE talk about this or own up to it in the 2-3 years since???? Folx and Plume are both still around. I've had to consider using them multiple times even in relatively "safe" states like Michigan, because sure, your insurance might cover HRT, but good luck finding a doctor who will prescribe it, because PP doesn't do HRT there, there's like 4 doctors in the whole state that will, and they will be like a 6 hour drive from you if they're accepting patients at all.

So like idk especially with all the absolute HORSE SHIT that you guys like to put TPOC, intersex ppl, asexual ppl, and trans men thru at the mere SUGGESTION of terfs, I just have to wonder how many of you are STILL repeating word-for-word terf rhetoric without unpacking it. (I mean, in addition to those of you I SEE STILL DOING THIS.) You may be critically/outwardly against TERFS, but if you don't actually take ANY time to block them, or even recognize and challenge their rhetoric in your head, you arent doing enough to avoid them. Cause you're STILL repeating it and you look foolish, WHICH WAS THE GOAL, BTW. To make queer (esp trans) people look foolish and disorganized, and to drive a wedge between our communities about struggles we actually fucking share.

Another example: I've said it before and I'll say it fucking again, "trans men can't speak to being oppressed bc you are MEN and therefore have Male Privilege, SILENCE, OPPRESSOR," is the SAME ARGUMENT from a few years ago about "ace and aro ppl aren't queer bc you don't experience sexual attraction, you can't be oppressed for something you dont experience, therefore, silence, cishet!" Signed, an asexual gnc transmasc. This was another instance of queerphobic, divisive terf rhetoric getting passed around uncritically for YEARS. (I can't speak to this bc I'm not a lesbian but it does feel eerily similar to "bi lesbians are harmful to our community" as well, that whole, "anything that could even feasibly one day sorta be tied back to Men means its #unsafe" vibe, but also a very, "anyone queerer than a cis political lesbian is a threat to our community," vibe, which feels r/dfemmy to me.)

I see people TALK about the dark ages of asexual hatred on this site, but I dont see a lot of you dissecting how that happened or how to prevent it from happening again to other communities. I see people talking about "wow everyone on this site sure was unhinged about asexual ppl" and then turning around and saying shit like "transandrophobia truthers." fucking look at yourselves.

[thewackypegasus]

i ramble about soul-based magic in ye olde hallownest

alrighty so i've been thinking about the state of magic before the fall of hallownest, because while spellcasting is a significant part of the game and the knight's journey, it's also not... super common among other characters? the only other characters who seem to practice it (unless i'm forgetting someone) are the snail shamans and the mages at the soul sanctum. it's also not a significant part of the infrastructure of the kingdom (except for the soul totems, which i'll get to later because i forgot they existed until just now). and i think this sort of makes sense, since the easiest and most plentiful way to gather soul is to wound and/or kill other creatures. when most of the creatures around you are infected husks, this isn't so bad, but when most of the other creatures around you are alive and sapient bugs, murder becomes a whole lot more iffy.

now, i do think it's possible that mages in ye olde hallownest farmed or hunted non-sapient bugs (like vengeflies, baldurs, crawlids, et cetera) for soul to use for spellcasting. i think this is especially likely for the snail shamans, as a.) when you go to their mounds in the game, they are filled with non-sapient bugs who can be fought for soul, and b.) i feel like if the snail shamans were murdering people en masse, we as players would know about it.

why, then, would the soul master decide to use sapient hallownest citizens for his experiments? two reasons: 1.) he's a fucked-up bastard, and 2.) sapient bugs produce more soul. i think it is plausible that sapient bugs produce more soul than non-sapient bugs because many of the non-husk sapient enemies in the game (moss knights, mantises, denizens of the hive) take more hits to kill than husks or minor non-sapient enemies like vengeflies, and therefore give more soul in total if you fight them to the death. there are, however, regular mosskin who take just as many hits to kill as husks, who are outliers here, and it is also plausible that the other sapient enemies take more hits to kill because they are more trained in combat.

back to soul farming—and not the kind the soul master did where he murdered countless innocent bugs! if creatures could be raised as livestock to farm soul, that begs the question: why didn't the bugs of hallownest do this? i mean, first of all, there's just the fact that there isn't much evidence of farming in hallownest in general aside from the hive. i also imagine soul farming was just impractical compared to the other resources the denizens of hallownest had at their disposal. i mean, the pale king was literally a god, and both his innovation and the innovation of the bugs he granted sapience begot elevators and trams and mining equipment and whatnot, which seem to run reliably without needing a power source as difficult to gather as soul. soul totems do exist, but there are a relatively small number of them, and most of them have a limited output before they presumably need to refill. farming soul would require a lot of labor for a power source that is not nearly as reliable as the power that already runs most of the tech in hallownest.

i do wonder exactly how many bugs practiced soul-based magic in ye olde hallownest. it seems to be a significant tradition among snails, as evidenced by the fact that most of the magic practitioners we findin hallownest are the snail shamans. however, the existence of the soul sanctum implies that other bugs studied soul-based magic as well, and the snail shaman at the burial mound seems happy to share his knowledge in exchange for some basic pest removal. it may not have been commonly used by most bugs in everyday life, but there is evidence for it being accessible to those interested in seeking it out.

tl;dr: i think raising livestock for soul in ye olde hallownest would have been possible but not necessarily practical for large-scale projects, and overall it doesn't seem like soul-based magic played that big of a role in the life of the average bug before hallownest's fall, but it definitely did exist as a tradition that is cool to think about

[sleepynoons]

ok so unprompted but since i refilled some makeup, thought i'd do a review on my last batch of products (everything is from yesstyle!!!) - do share your own favs/recs/opinions!!

skincare: · heartleaf 77 clear pad, anua - been trying diff toner pads, and honestly, really like this one! it may not seem like it's doing much, but since i have very acne-prone + sensitive skin, the fact that it hasn't caused a speck of redness or irritation bc it's so soothing and not sticky is a literal godsend. pads are circular, so good for placement and adjustment, but surface area is slightly minimal, i have to use 2-3 pads every time. no obvious smell either. (8.7/10)

· clean it zero cleansing balm, banila co - was on this shit for years!!! and then i was like lemme try other ones - nope, this is still the best. a little goes a LONG FUCKING WAY. i love this product. i will never abandon you again. literally gets my heaviest, water-proof mascara and foundation off with just a few swipes. but idk if it's heavy-duty enough for stage makeup. (infinity/10)

· heartleaf quercetinol pore deep cleansing foam, anua - like the toner pads, not irritating, hasn't caused any breakouts, etc. but otherwise, no visible change. like it does not actually get gunk out of your skin like some other cleansers that i've tried before. so... doesn't really do what it's been marketed to do. eh. (7/10)

base makeup: · three-shades concealer palette (#2, KO panda eye), judydoll - works great if you understand color theory. drastically helps with my under-eye dark circles, as well as brightening my temples and chin, which are perpetually plagued with large acne scars. definitely tackier than your usual, casual concealer, so great if you have some stubborn spots! but def need to moisturize your base well, or else it could leave splotchy, dry spots behind. also means you need to make sure your base complements the formula well, or else it could cause pilling. (8.1/10)

· duo eyebrow pencil (#03, medium brown), judydoll - love the pencil, not the biggest fan of the gel end. maybe it's because i've never used eyebrow gel before, but it does not apply very evenly. i honestly think it's bc the spoolie is so tiny. but the color is def there if you like darker, thicker brows. i just have very thick eyebrows already, and am constantly trying to make them look sparser and lighter, so the eyebrow gel def does not help. (5.4/10)

· creamy gel liner eyeshadow pencil (#11, gray brown + #08, nature beige), judydoll - i use it for my "aegyosal," and it's fantastic. i got the right colors, and they blend out so easily with just a brush of my finger. a little goes a LONG way. honestly, great, no complaints at all. could see the pencil being used to draw a light eyeshadow, along your waterline, creating a shadow underneath your lips, etc. (9.5/10)

lip: · lip potion steaming milk, alternativestereo - still trying to figure out how to use it with the brand's lipsticks ("lip potions"). i see better application of the lipstick when you apply the steaming milk first and let it sit for 10-15 min. i honestly just bought this because the packaging was cute in the photos, not that cute irl. it's fine? feels great though lol but def can live without it. also overpriced, compared to all the other lip products available on yesstyle afdjlkds (4.4/10)

tools: · concealer brush, mogugu - i honestly just bought one of the cheapest options on yesstyle bc it's j a brush lol i think it works just fine, can see it needing to get cleaned often though. i'd say it doesn't capture as much of the product if you let your concealer sit, but it's fine for the most part even if you don't. feel is fine, not particularly soft, but not scratchy either. (7.5/10)

[bornbreathless-archive]

@handgiven from here

it may have been the port wine char set them up with. it may have been the very fact that no matter what they were willing to admit, raym did miss char horribly and seeing her now made them giddy beyond what the port alone could have done. still, what a nice evening. what lovely talk. what wonderful -- char. they caught themself staring a little too long and that fact alone made them frown to themself, unsettled ever so slightly at whatever the hell kind of mood they could feel settling in the pit of their stomach. whatever. char is a friend. char is nice. char cares about them and gets them port wine to drink even though she herself thinks it's gross. char looks out for them. char has a delightful cat. char is always willing to let them stop by when they just so happen to hop the earth. char is... they frown a little harder, watching char through their empty glass, slightly out of focus, slightly twisted by irregularities of the material, slightly tinted red with the leftover traces of the liquid. the emptiness is what bothers them, surely. nothing else. when they pull to their feet, they are slightly wobbly. just slightly. they consider turning into their bird form to move around the room but regretfully recognise that that would mean leaving their glass behind. and the glass is the point, innit? the glass they cradle in their hand as they make it over to char, who leans against the counter with her back and enjoys the show. oh devils, they must look ridiculous right now. it's really not even that they had that much. mostly, they were just out of shape. and their cheeks were burning before they got that first sip, anyway. and their head was all fuzzy before they'd even begin to consider-- wrong calculations about their movement lead to char getting in their way, between them and the bottle. or has she always been there? what is it that raym comes for? they look up to meet her eyes and they just about melt. they do miss having their wings for maintaining balance right about now. they do miss just... being a bird and not having to make decisions like this. they do step on their tiptoes, to press a shy peck upon char's lips, pressing a little closer as their hand snakes around her to grasp their prey; the all-guilty bottle of port wine. sure. this was all for that one bottle. nothing else. "i was, um, runnin' on empty."

Most who know her know that Char is, perhaps, one of the least patient beings on the planet. Which is admittedly somewhat confounding given the very nature of what she is, a living embodiment of that which waits for everyone no matter how much they may try to outrun it.

Everybody knows that Char isn't patient. Which is why it might surprise them to know just how patient she is with Raym.

Raym, who denies any accusation that they may have missed the Reaper when she's not around. Raym, who lives amongst the drab and dreary hallways of Hell, but whose eye is always drawn to the shiny trinkets that litter the Earth. Raym, who she can't help but notice has been staring at her almost the whole evening, partly because she's been staring back nearly as much.

Char stands with her back to the kitchen counter, having moved to refill her wineglass a few moments earlier - not that godawful port wine, but a nice red, most of the bottle already gone over the course of the night. The conversation has slowed to a comfortable silence as she watches Raym from over the rim of her glass, unable to help from the way her lips curl into an amused smile as the little bird stands from the table on wobbly legs. Oh how she wants to comment, to tease, but she doesn't dare risk bursting the warm bubble of contentment that seems to have settled over the apartment. No, she'll settle for watching Raym toddle over on unsteady legs, and doesn't even really notice that their trajectory puts her right in their path until they're face to face and Char is suddenly very aware of just how close they are.

And then, Raym kisses her. Just softly, shyly, the barest brush of lips that almost makes her question if it had really even happened before the demon speaks. Char's eyes dart sideways to the procured bottle for a second and her expression - more startled than she'd be willing to admit - melts into something amused, and then something near-hesitant. She sets her glass on the counter behind her, eyes never leaving Raym's face as she then reaches up to carefully, gently, take the little bird's chin and tilts their head up again. Allowing a moment for them to pull back before she closes the distance between them, stomach set to fluttering as she finally does what she's been thinking about for weeks and presses a tender kiss to their lips in return. Searching Raym's face for a reaction when she pulls away.

She thinks that maybe she could get used to the taste of port wine.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Unpleasantness

The migraine is still hanging on. The physical pain is a little less horrific, at least, but gods, I would like my head to stop hurting now, please.

Work seems to be getting back onto something like an even keel, though I'm still having to push a little harder than I should to get the backlog under control, because gods know no one else speeds up at times like these. At least New Girl didn't pull her shit again today. If I didn't mention New Girl's Shit ... well, it's a little stunt she pulls that is now common enough to be very clearly deliberate:

Collects a bunch of typing from the queue, even some of the longer stuff

Types the short dictations in her personal queue

Refills her personal queue with more short dictations, avoiding the long ones this time

Repeats 2 and 3 over the course of the day until about 4:50pm

Dumps the long ones (which by now are dated the previous day, most of the time) back into the queue, obliging the people still typing to prioritise them

Picks up another couple of short ones "because that's all I have time to do!"

Leaves

Like, I leave at 5:30 on Thursdays and Fridays. So I end up with those just left for me. And Goblin, though I may not particularly enjoy her company, works until 5:30 every day, so she gets it worse. It doesn't matter that I don't like Goblin as a person; neither of us deserve that bullshit.

Anyway, she didn't manage to do it today. Though I did get stuck with an ungodly number of hemicolectomy reports.

So ... yeah. I want to play video games, or talk about the demos I've found on the Steam Next Fest this time around, or something ... buuuut my head is killing me and ... well, my pain level is not "horrific" but it is "bad". Sooooooo ... y'know. I guess I'll have to stop at whingeing about the fact that the last few days have been shit. Not expecting much better out of tomorrow, honestly.

I swear, I wish it wasn't so awkward to call out sick when working from home. Like, I'm going to have to if the migraine gets any worse but the last time I had such a bad pain day I could barely move, I got Scruffman saying, "Is there anything that we can do to make that less of a thing?" and I'm like, "I HAVE FIBROMYALGIA; SOMETIMES I'M JUST GOING TO HURT FOR NO REASON!"

I have having limitations. So much.

[squiggly-mctwig]

What do you think the Rise boys’ favorite ice cream flavors are? I’ve been seeing everyone’s takes on them and I’m curious lmao

Oo that's a good one! ehe (putting under read more because I may have went a little overboard-)

For Donnie, he says that his favorite is probably like basic chocolate or strawberry, but it's actually mint. He just (rightfully) doesn't say his actual favorite because he knows Leo is going to call him something like 'stinky mint boi' or 'toothpaste kisser' for forever lol. His favorite part about it is probably the 'refreshing' chill in his mouth like he just brushed his teeth after consuming an entire bucket under 3 minutes (after sneaking it into his lab ofc).

I'd have to say Mikey's favorite is something along the lines of cotton candy flavored ice cream, but honestly he'll eat anything that tastes like candy. Can't bring himself to eat neapolitan icecream in honour of icecream kitty. Mikey loves to mix flavors and sometimes it comes out pretty good! I say sometimes because he once mixed slices pieces of fish, vanilla ice cream scoops, and the arm of a Lou Jitsu action figure and threw it into the freezer (guess what movie he watched before making it).

Raph's favorite flavor would probably be chocolate chip cookie dough! He just loves the texture of the little balls of cookie dough and the subtle small cronch kahsdhhd. His love for it also probably roots from the fact that he's usually the one to (not so) sneakily eat all the excess raw cookie dough on spoons while baking with Mikey. This usually results in him being caught 70% of the time. Unlike the rest of his brothers who gulp down the ice cream under a minute, he takes little bites to savor the taste.

Cookies n cream would probably be Leo's favorite! According to him, it's essentially just a cold oreo paste (he has a secret oreo stash beneath his bed he refills every week). Sometimes to trigger his brothers he'll put the ice cream in a cone, wait for it to melt, and then bite the bottom of it so it acts like a funnel of constant melted ice cream, which gets EVERYWHERE. Donnie isnt fond of cleaning that sticky situation (BA DUMM TSS) so he just hides all the ice cream cones before Leo can get his hands on them.

[funnier-as-a-system]

You've mentioned your blog runs on a queue - can I ask how far back submissions are right now? I submitted something a while ago and don't know if Tumblr ate it or if your queue is just super long (/gq /nbr)

-🐻‍❄

Well, right now the queue will take about 12 days to empty out if we don't refill it, but the thing is that a lot of submissions don't go directly to the queue. A good number of them aren't even accepted, in fact. See, a lot of submissions are just repeats, meaning we would just be posting the same posts over and over again (sometimes multiple times in a row) if we took every submission. Of those that are accepted, they often get placed into the draft box until we can properly vet and address them, especially if they need a long image description, such as videos or comics. Both tag submissions and ask submissions often fall into this for a long time.

However, there are other reasons why a submission may not be accepted, which we've wanted to touch upon for a while now. We try to avoid reblogging posts that are distinctly about other mental conditions unless they really stand out to us, since we don't want to derail a post or be insensitive by reblogging something about personal mental health struggles to a system gimmick blog. There are also submissions that we don't reblog because they, quite frankly, do not make sense to us. Often we'll reblog those posts anyway, because obviously the person tagging us got some sort of joke out of it (even if we don't get the joke), but every once in a while we pump the brakes because something just seems off to us.

And finally, there's the last pitfall submissions can be tripped up by: we just don't receive them. Tumblr's notification system is notoriously flawed, and we have had instances where someone tagged us in a post but we never received it. There's also instances where we do get a tag notification, but because our main has been blocked by the blog tagging us, we can neither see nor reblog the post.

In conclusion... our queue is about twelve days full at the moment (and that's about the average length it runs), but that doesn't mean your submission will post in that time. Thank you for your patience, our apologies if your submission isn't accepted, and we hope this answers your question.

[1981suppress]

1. I don't understand the concept of comfort characters. I get what people mean when they reference or bring up that topic, but I've never felt that a character is like that to me. I usually enjoy analysing characters or enjoy the characters themselves due to their writing, personality, I find myself attracted to characters or I appreciate them and their significance to the story no matter how nuanced, but I can't say I have a "comfort character".

2. I like the way lighters look and feel in my hands but matches smell better and have a more striking sensation when you flick them. You can strike a match on almost anything, which in my opinion is better than just a portable refillable source of light. I don't smoke, I don't set things on fire, but I like the smell of match smoke and bonfires. Matches have relative aesthetic value.

3. When I was at my old house which is in a more private location, I tended to leave my window open for the breeze albeit still feeling fearful when I'd do it. Of course, I would pick and choose when to leave it open. Now that I've moved houses in October I almost never leave my window open, especially not at night.

4. I don't particularly believe in any cryptids, I like making stories as I'm a writer and a maladaptive daydreamer, and depending on the context I may incorporate a cryptid but only if it fits the narrative context, and I would never do it in a conventional way. I like complex, nuanced, artistic ideas of writing and film, I like unique things in general - I would never write a typical cryptid story or a story about solely a cryptid.

5. My eyes are technically hazel although they are mostly a medium to pale green with a splotch of brown around my pupils. In the light, or especially when I'm crying, they appear moreso green but in day to day they could be mistaken for darker. I don't mind brown eyes, in fact they can be very attractive, but it is not my eye colour.

6. I could say that for many things. A fair amount of the time I curse myself or condemn myself, depending on what it is. Due to my impeccable memory I remember almost everything. I'm always observing (when I choose) but if I'm in a zone I'm rarely an observant person. I pick up on the little things I do wrong and I assign them value that probably isn't significant in anyone else's eyes. I wish that I could be viewed a certain way, but the truth is I'm condemned to the view others assign to me which, at this current moment, is not a very good one. It's not like I did much rather than exist. The reactions of others to whenever I slip up may not stick in their minds, but they cling to me. They wouldn't think about what happened. But the ignorance of them clings to me like a bad smell. I mostly get upset, and then I get angry, but I choose to let it pass by because soon I will leave where I am, and move onto somewhere else.

7. Hairties are only acceptable. Scrunchies, the majority of the time, are a hit or miss. I rarely think I would look good with one, whilst hairties are more versatile, to use when I would put my hair up into a bun, high bun, or a high ponytail. They can be used to hold together a shoe without looking too obnoxious. You can wrap them around your wrists for later without looking like a weirdo.

8. Honestly, my room is a shithole but I don't think there's a single water bottle in there. I mean, I wouldn't know, I'm not in there right now; but from what I remember I don't think there is. Either way, it doesn't matter to me, despite how much I love it I rarely remember to drink water anyway.

9. I've never been a coffee fan and I doubt I ever will. I don't want to say I'd imagine I'd like cold coffee just to be unique because that would be dishonest and pretty stupid. I can't be the judge of which I would like since I don't like coffee at all. Maybe it would be the same as milk, I love cold milk with a bit of vanilla, warm milk is alright but I rarely ever choose to drink it. If my palate ever develops when it comes to coffee I'll figure it out then. In the meantime, my answer is this.

2 days later, I have come back to answer the rest.

10. It depends, in which situation and which individuals you're talking about. I've thought of 'eat the rich' as a term to be more of a metaphor than a literal thing, the meaning being an abolition of worship of the rich. The majority of the time I think the only people who should be slaughtered are pedophiles and rapists, but even then I don't agree with the general sentiment of slaughter. I have nuanced views on the death penalty, whilst I generally believe in rehabilitation in some instances the death penalty is applicable, only for the worst of the worst - those above redemption. I don't think I'd slaughter the rich in general although there are many reprehensible rich people whom, if there was a chance, should be at the very least locked up, at the most probably slaughtered. But either way in this worlds state I don't think that any of it would happen.

11. I mean I couldn't say because I've never really got the chance to do any. I know this may sound strange, but I don't think any educational program I've been to has actually had extracurriculars. I guess if they did I would like the idea of theatre but I probably wouldn't do it since I have no confidence in any way whatsoever. I wish I could - I have the potential and knowledge, I can act when I'm alone, I know about film, literature, music and theatre, I taught myself how to sing and I do it well, all I lack is my confidence. That's why I basically gave up on that idea. I'd be open to sewing, as I'm quite good at what I've done of it, have an omi who was a textiles teacher, and in general am a very quick learner.

12. Honestly, today was incredibly boring, but that's not too dissimilar to most days in my life. It's night right now - 9:26pm to be exact - and it's pouring outside. I actually quite like the rain. It was raining for a little bit yesterday too, but definitely not as much as today. It's the very start of winter and I'm already preparing for a long period of beautiful chill and rain. Sadly, not unlike most days of my monotonous life, I woke up at almost 2pm. I did nothing with my day, and I have an assignment due in less than 2 days which I haven't started.

13. The last time I ate was not very long ago, in fact I can still taste it in my mouth. I had indomie mi goreng noodles of course, my go to when dinner can't be made. I can't just eat crap all the time though, because I've gained a significant amount of weight, despite my good metabolism. I hate exercising so to lose this will be tricky.

14. Most definitely. I like rain in general, and the smell of rain in its moment as well as after is gorgeous to me. I personally think rain is overhated, though despite this most people tend to enjoy the smell of after-rain. I never really think about it much anymore. All I think about on the topic of rain is the stuff I wish I'd be doing when it's falling.

15. I'm not literally a parent, although in the future (if I ever find love) I'd definitely be open to it, though only if I'm 100% ready, which will likely be in my early 30s. I have two cats (grey "russian blue" although she is definitely not a purebred with her stripey tail and yellow eyes, and a black domestic) and a dachshund, which personally I don't count as being a parent since I hate the terms "cat mom" and "dog mom". Hopefully someday I get the chance.

16. I cannot, although hopefully when summer hits I'll try for my license. I mean, to me it wouldn't really matter anyways as I'm a frequent flyer (or rider in this case) of public transport. If I'm in a situation where I can ride in someone else's car or just catch the train/bus, I wouldn't see the need of getting a car. Although personally, I'm probably gonna get one anyway.

17. I know that I'm one of those but for the God of me I can't remember which one. Just know that I wear glasses and have had to for over a year. At least I think that's how long? Well, I've NEEDED to since December 2022 but I only got my proper prescription around a year ago. Either way, it is what it is.

18. I don't really use hair products to be honest. Although it's probably taboo to mention on here, I don't take care of myself as much as I'm supposed to. When showering I just use whatevers on the rack, I don't remember the names of them.

19. In my current situation I can't imagine I'd be at a sleepover with anyone, but if I was, hypothetically, I would absolutely not be able to do anyones nails. I can't even do my own nails properly without giving up less than half way through, let alone somebody else's. I think the last time I had a sleepover was in October of last year. Time flies fast, I still remember a year ago like it was yesterday. I miss my old face.

20. I would never say either of those. Due to my origin, the only acceptable term would be fizzy drinks, but I don't use that most of the time either. I say carbonated drinks - usually referenced in a way to say I dislike them, which I do because the texture does not suit my palate and I find them hard to finish.

21. I've kept a few things since my childhood. The most significant ones I can count are the teddy blankies - my two pink baby blankets with teddy bear heads that I've had since I was born. I still cherish them, along with the rest of my plush toys, and I would absolutely never give them away. I will most likely keep them until the day I die, although the topic of death is my only taboo. I do not like to think about it.

22. There are many descriptors that I could use to describe myself. I, as is the same with everyone and everything that exists on earth, am very complex and nuanced. If I wanted to truly answer this question it would probably take days or maybe even weeks on end. To condense it, I'd consider myself an intelligent person, very self aware, but critical and with the tendency to be dramatic and a bit pretentious/judgemental. I'm in love with the arts and I know a lot about many different topics. I dress however I want without care, but I am very much a people pleaser and would never want to make someone upset or mad. I love people and humanity, and am above all a moralist, although when it is necessary I can criticise and gossip. I love having fun but I'm extremely lonely - I daydream about a better life. I have potential but I waste the majority of it. Most importantly, I am myself and that's the shortest way of saying it.

23. I absolutely adore chilly weather. Winter and Autumn are most definitely my favourite seasons. I've never been sensitive to the cold, and of course, as one does in winter, I can wear wonderful clothes. Who wouldn't want to do that? At least, who with a brain wouldn't. I especially love the breeze and the wind, when it's bitey and blows strong, tickling your face all over. Cold is indubitably better than the heat.

24. It depends who you are. If you are a person of whomst would be perfect in my mind, down to his very details, then we would be chatting or something else I must not mention. If you're anyone, I would most likely be staring off into whatever is near us, or gossiping along about random world topics (or relevant information/personal life events).

25. Perfume/body spray is the superior option. I almost never use lotion apart from when I feel my skin is drying out, and even then I use moisturiser, not some silly scented lotion cream. Although to be honest, I could definitely do a better job of taking care of my skin. My skin has always been beautiful, but recently has become dehydrated, as shown with the premature lines on my forehead.

26. Oh goodness, I could name a few. As I mentioned previously I am a maladaptive daydreamer, although a few common scenarios I most likely couldn't say here. I mean, I probably could, but my inner confidence sways me in the opposite direction. Most of them are just imaginings of a romantic relationship that I doubt will ever come. I only have to hope, I guess. One of them in particular is in an office, where I was hired by a restrictive person in a restrictive relationship, and I have mutual untold feelings for someone who is tender but teases me with light-hearted disagreements. It's generally a very comforting thing. Less cringey than it sounds. That's one of many.

27. Last night? Well I went to bed around 2am, I know, naughty of me. I officially got woken up around 10:30am but I went back to sleep like the sloth that I am. Eventually I awoke once again at 1:50pm and complained about how, once again, I wasted my whole day away. That's what I get for being utterly obsessed with my dreams.

28. I haven't worn a mask since covid, which doesn't feel like too long ago. Honestly, I'm shocked it's been years since I was in it, and now can actually reflect on the past that WAS covid. Time really does fly by too fast. I can see it in the way my face changes for the worse. I can see it in the way that everything is the same but somewhat grown.

29. Shower water is best warm. Not hot, not cold, but warm. It's not a medium temperature of course, it's on the hotter side, but it's twisted to a way where it's comfortable like a warm blanket wrapped around you and you can feel yourself dreading to leave the shower, knowing you're going to feel cold immediately as you step out.

30. Though my room could easily be put in comparison to a clothing trash heap, I would never EVER keep food or dishes in here. To me that's reprehensible. I am acquainted with those who've done that, and it's nothing short of abhorrent. I may not be the best chosen to criticise, but I would never keep dirty dishes in my room.

31. I don't usually think of music as a thing to keep me grounded per se, and throughout my life I've listened to all different sorts of music. I don't even know if I can answer that question. If the question was what type of music do I enjoy, I'd say currently I like triphop, and very particular musicals (only just les miserables) with other alternative types of music spread about, as well as tunes that I don't stick to defining by a genre.

32. The only towels I really use are the baby blue ones, they just seem nice and soft to me, and they're a gorgeous little colour so of course I'd want to use them. They're practically designated to me anyways, so even if I felt like using another towel I'd feel like I'm not allowed to do so.

33. To be completely honest with you, I don't think I've been on an adventure in an incredibly long time, to the point where I can't even remember the last time I did. My life is more boring and monotonous than you actually could imagine, when I say I do nothing I actually mean it. Every day is the same depressing mess of a thing, my life is barely an excuse for a life. I so desperately want to do more.

34. It's very easy for me to remember lyrics, so I could say that for almost every single one of the 15,263 songs on my liked list. Although probably the most memorised lyrics would be that of almost the whole Les Miserables musical adaptation. I love the Original London Cast, particularly Roger Allam, whose voice (and everything) I am completely in love with.

35. My timezone is the AEST as I reside in Sydney, Australia (specifically the Sutherland Shire, I know, the horror of it.)

36. With accounts, I almost never change the URL's, unless it is completely necessary. I enjoy just creating new accounts when I'm bored (those of which I abandon in about a day unless they are particularly entertaining/useful). This one of course is a sub-branch of my original account so I can't say I've ever changed the URL of this since it's a new account.

37. I don't think I can count anyone that I know currently who fits into that box. I wish I could, if I continued onto where I was 10 years ago instead of leaving prematurely maybe I might’ve still known those people now, but the past is in the past and there is nothing I can do about it. I guess there's no point in reminiscing about what could've been.

38. Personally, I don't use soap bars. The only soap bar I ever use is the tiny little scrap of a thing at my Omis house that currently resides on the sink in her bathroom. Other than that, handsoap and shower gel are the priorities.

39. I used to use lip balm very often, in fact I had a whole collection (albeit ones that I used to hell and not in the correct pacing) but this year I practically haven't used one at all. Let's just say that my lips would not be very kissable. Although, I don't doubt there are people out there somewhere in the world that don't care about kissing chapped lips or not.

40. If small cookies are counted as snacks, which I guarantee they most likely are, then yes I have had snacks today. Usually when I do have snacks they're from my friend Trevor, the elderly man at JBHIFI who gives me Reese's Peanut Butter cups, and is an absolute darling. We have such long conversations. Other than that, I don't really think about what I eat, or rather what I snack on.

41. My answer to this is that I don't take my coffee. I hate coffee, despise it rather. If I was given coffee, I would transfer it to somebody else. I just don't understand the following coffee has gathered, to me it tastes like crap. Maybe in the future my palate may develop, who knows, anything could happen (personally I doubt it would).

42. As much as it pains me to admit it I am an avid tiktok user. I use it almost every day along with tumblr and spotify. I've become resigned to the fact that I'm absolutely addicted to my phone. It's actually become a problem that affects my day to day life for the worse. I really need to pick up better hobbies.

43. I have a relative spice tolerance and depending on what is in it, spicy food can be wonderful. I'm generally pretty open minded when it comes to food. I like to think of food as its own art, and the ingredients, seasonings, toppings, etc as the different features of the art. In turn, this creates a delicious painting, highlighting all the attributes that contribute to the final product.

44. This would probably depend based on the trajectory of my life whenever I answer it in the future (or present) but as of now I would probably pick the walking breathing piece of garbage, the sad sack of putrid flesh, the poor pathetic excuse for a human being that is Benjamin Netanyahu.

45. Of course I can remember what happened yesterday. As I stated somewhere riddled throughout this jumbled text, my memory is absolutely impeccable. If this is an invitation to describe my day, trust me I won't be following through with that. I'm just not in that kind of mood. But if I can remember moments from years ago, I can very obviously remember yesterday, no matter how mundane it was.

46. I don't watch holiday films. I don't think a single film that I like is a holiday film. I know a lot about films and the film industry, but I actually don't watch many at all. I just watch what my mind thinks will fit into my niche box of interests, which a holiday film definitely wouldn't.

47. The last message that I sent was into my personal channel in my close acquaintances server, and that was "Virgin airbuds user chad last.fm enjoyer". I thoroughly stand by that statement.

48. It was most likely when I was very young, just a very minuscule sip of rosé, which made my juvenile mind think "wow, this isn't that bad". I don't have a personal attachment to rosé now, and I don't wish to consume alcohol in my life as my father was (and maybe still is) an alcoholic.

49. I don't think I've even ever tried it, I've never personally wished to, so I can't say whether or not I hypothetically could. Maybe I would be able to, maybe I wouldn't. I'll most likely never know.

50. I don't think you would either way.

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[messengerhermes]

Vulnerability Hangovers

Vulnerability is necessary to building close relationships, to showing up for others and also to opening up and making the space for others to show up for us.

But.

But sometimes we can stretch too far out of our comfort zone.

Maybe we're share something we weren't as ready to talk about as we thought we were.

Maybe we try something that required a lot of courage, and it goes not as well as we hoped. Or maybe it goes great and we still find ourselves overwhelmed.

Maybe we misjudged our support needs around something and find ourself struggling.

Maybe someone didn't react the way we played to something we shared and we have to address the gap between what we expected and what happened.

Either way, we can find ourselves in what I call a vulnerability hangover without realizing it.

Vulnerability hangovers can come after a big moment of vulnerability, or happen overtime if smaller moments of vulnerability stack up without you getting chances to refill your cup or the kind of response you need to feel like you're vulnerability is strengthening your connections.

Signs you may be in a vulnerability hangover:

-Feeling an urge to withdraw from others, to stop sharing certain things, or increased anxiety around certain subjects

-Finding your ability to do vulnerable things is smaller than usual. These things can include share things you care about, confide something you're embarrassed or ashamed of, put yourself in situations where you might be rejected

-Finding yourself more guarded or uncomfortable with people you're close with, either in general or in specific

Vulnerability hangovers suck ass and can be stressful.

Here are some ways you can help yourself:

Find your comfort zone again and stay in it for a while. Try to start with at least a couple of days, then see if you need more time. Depending on the circumstances, you may need weeks or months more in your comfort zone before you stretch out again in order to feel secure enough again.

Identify what caused you to overstretch. Think of this as figuring out which muscle you've pulled. Was it a certain subject that you felt too vulnerable around? An activity? Does the trouble sit with a particular relationship you have? Figuring out the source can help you address what went wrong and better give yourself a break.

Reestablish boundaries for yourself. Particularly when our overwhelm comes from something in our relationships to others, we can struggle both with keeping our boundaries--the rules that make us safe and comfortable--and respecting others' boundaries.

Sometimes feeling vulnerable can leave us needing more care than a specific person we may want it from can provide, in that case, seeking out other means of support can help us feel okay until we can address things with who we need to and how.

Remember your own agency, that you have control over yourself. If being vulnerable doesn't go the way we expect it to, we can feel hurt, anxious or powerless. Finding things we can do to remind ourselves that we have value, that we are safe, and that being vulnerable is not a bad thing even if others do not receive us how we wanted can help us feel more grounded and "in control." This can look like setting aside solo time to work on a hobby, do something we enjoy, or let ourselves feel our feelings. It can look like writing about what happened and what we wish happened, and acknowledging that we did our best in the situation.

Attempt to talk it out. If you realize that you've been overstretching with a particular person or people, let them know what you're feeling and ask if you can talk about it. This is in fact a vulnerable thing to do, but others may not know you've been vulnerable with them in a way that's hard for you unless you tell them so, and thus may not be able to show up for you how you want or need. If the people you want to talk with can't meet your needs, try to get support from others to help you move through your feelings and figure out what you need to be okay.

Figure out what needs to change in order for you to be vulnerable in the future. Is there a certain kind of feedback you need around this kind of sharing? Are there things that need to change in your relationships? Is there a confidence you need to build up around something? How can you make these changes slowly so you don't overwhelm yourself?

Getting overwhelmed after being vulnerable is scary and hard but the answer is not to stop being open in your life and with others.

Be gentle with yourself and let yourself recover and have patience for the places you need support from others.

[oh-my-damn]

A (Pretty Decent) Proposal

Highways & Heatstrokes Masterlist

Pairing: Trucker!Ari Levinson x Hitchhiker!Reader

Summary: Checking in with Trucker!Ari and Sugar, about a year after she goes back for him.

A/N: A little drabble on our two lovebirds! I figured perhaps it was time I showed you guys just exactly how big beefy trucker Ari would ask his girl to be exactly that - all his, for the rest of his life. And as expected, it really isn't anything special. But it's all Ari. And the only thing that matters to him is his Sugar.

You're sitting in a lawn chair next to the truck, flipping through a magazine while Ari is off filling the tank.

It's hot today, but not unbearable, which makes it the perfect time to work on your non-existent tan. You're eating a bag of jellybeans that's almost finished as you read through the articles.

Ten signs he's into you

How to get his attention

Get a beach body in 30 days

You flip through the pages, rolling your eyes at how half the articles have recipes for desserts and treats, while all the ads are for fad diets or guides on how to lose weight.

To be honest, you only bought the magazine because it's all they had at the convenience store in the lot, and you weren't in the mood to read Ari's copy of Jane Eyre again.

You really need to buy some books, soon. Especially for days like this.

You know for a fact it doesn't take this long to refill the tank. You know this, because you've been with Ari for over a year now, and it only rarely ever takes this long. You also know exactly why it is taking this long, today.

Your eyes lift from your magazine to look across the lot, just to confirm your suspicion.

Whenever you're at a truck stop that's one of Ari's regular places, he always takes such a long time to fill the tank. Or to get supplies. Or to do just about anything.

You chuckle to yourself when you spot him standing around with a group of men, a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. One of the men, whom you recognize from past encounters, says something to the group, and Ari immediately throws his head back, letting out a rumbling laugh that carries through the parking lot.

You slide your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him over the brim, eyes trailing over his form. He's shirtless, undoubtedly to both maintain that delectable tan color of his skin as well as to assert himself. None of the others come even remotely close to him.

Most of them have small bellies, and they don't seem as.. well groomed, as Ari. They may be around the same age but they still look much older, jeans fitting a little too tight and hair not as thick.

You tilt your head, eyes trailing over how Ari's abs flex as he leans back on the half wall surrounding the lot, one arm resting on top of it.

You recognize the other guy, the one that made him laugh, and he might be the only other guy in the vicinity who could come close to Ari.

His name is Curtis, you've bumped into him a few times by now, and he's nice. Always treats you kindly, with respect even, which is not always something you've experienced. Everyone who meets you and Ari know there's a power imbalance there, they can tell you're much younger, and it's made for some awkward encounters once in a while.

But you always brush it off. You don't care about what anyone else thinks; all you care about is Ari and how happy he makes you.

Curtis' eyes find yours for a moment before he mumbles something to Ari, who turns his head to look in your direction. He grins widely, making you quirk a brow at him as he says something to the group.

Before you know it, all five men are walking in your direction, Ari taking a final drag of his cigarette before he tosses it on the ground.

You push your sunglasses back up your nose, pretending not to notice them as they walk towards you, returning to your reading.

What to do to drive him wild in bed

You smirk, immediately marking the page so you'll be able to easily find it later, and right as you do, you hear a familiar voice.

"Hiya sugar," Ari says, making you look up at him. He walks the rest of the way towards you, a dazzling smile on his face, "Stayin' hydrated in the heat?"

You shrug, looking up at Ari as he stands before you, Curtis standing next to him and the remaining three men standing a little behind them, but all eyes are trained on you.

"I had some water earlier."

"Mmh, that's good," Ari hums, turning to look at the other men, "Guys, go grab some chairs and beers. Come sit with us. We're stayin' for the day."

The others nod and walk off, Curtis offering you a smile before he walks in the direction of his truck. The second you're alone, Ari turns back to you, "C'mon sugar, stand up for me for a second."

You chuckle, knowing exactly why he's asking you to get up, closing your magazine and getting up from your chair with a smirk, "Why do I need to get up?"

"You know why," Ari grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you to him before he places a quick kiss on your lips. He turns you both around and places himself in the chair, pulling you down to sit in his lap once he's seated.

His arms move around your waist, palms landing on your stomach as you lean your back against his chest. His slender fingers find the magazine in your hand, immediately opening it and flipping through the pages, "Anythin' excitin' in here?"

"Mhmm," you hum, shifting in his lap to get more comfortable, "Flip to that marked page."

You can feel his chest hair against the nape of your neck, your head leaning back until you can rest it on his shoulder. He hands you his beer, and you take a sip while he finds the article you've marked.

"What to do to drive him wild in bed," Ari reads, humming as he nods, "Interesting. Did you write this article, sugar?"

Ari smirks at you, making you giggle, "Hmm, no, but I figured it was worth a look. See if there's anything in there I haven't done to you yet."

"Doubt it," Ari snorts, quickly scanning through it, "Ain't nothin' in here that's as fun as what we do, baby."

You chuckle, your free hand finding his fingers, playing with them gently, "Nah, we're pretty good at it."

"Yeah, we are," Ari mumbles, taking a sip of beer when you direct the bottle to his lips.

You smile when the others walk back to your little spot with their chairs, immediately placing more beers on the ground before they sit down to make all of you sit in a circle.

One of the men looks at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as you sit in Ari's lap, before he asks, "And what's your name?"

"This is sugar," Ari replies as you take another sip of his beer, "My wife."

You sputter, choking on your sip, before you look at Ari over your shoulder with raised brows.

The other men chuckle at your reaction, making Curtis state, "You sure about that, Levinson? Doesn't seem like she was aware."

"Uh, no," you immediately say, looking at Ari incredulously, "She wasn't."

Ari snickers, "Aw, come on. I'm too old to have a girlfriend. It's wife or roommate, you pick."

The others chuckle again, but you refuse to bite, narrowing your eyes at Ari, "Excuse me, Mr. Levinson. If you want me to be your wife, you have to ask. And, you have to get a ring. End of discussion."

"Who says I ain't already got a ring?" Ari counters, watching your tense expression.

"Well, the ring isn't for you, idiot," you grumble, pursing your lips, "It's supposed to be for me."

You glare at Ari for a moment, and he holds your stare teasingly before he lets out a chuckle, "Oh sugar, aren't you just the cutest? You want a ring, hm? Whaddaya want? A diamond? That good enough for ya?"

You snort, taking a sip of his beer before you turn back to look at the others, mumbling under your breath, "Asshole.."

Ari laughs, arms squeezing you tighter, "That's not very nice."

"Neither are you," you immediately respond, plucking the magazine from his hands, "It's not nice to tease."

"Who says I'm teasin'?"

You look at Ari over your shoulder, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Ari, stop," you whisper quietly, pouting slightly, "It's not funny."

"I'm not makin' any jokes here, sugar," Ari replies, tilting his head as he looks at you, "What'll it take, hm? A diamond?"

You frown, glancing shortly over at Curtis who just looks at you with a curious expression. You look back at Ari, "No, don't need a diamond. Just a ring."

"Okay," Ari nods, taking the beer from your hand to get a sip, "What else?"

"Uhm.." You glance away to gather your thoughts before looking back at him, "Honeymoon. One where I get to decide where we go."

"That I can do," Ari responds calmly, eyes holding yours intensely, "That it?"

You nod once, unsure if he's bluffing or not, "Mhm, that's it."

"Okay then," Ari states, placing a quick kiss on your cheek, "You got it, sugar."

[tuefort-teamfort]

Heyo! Got any general headcanons for the tf2 mercs?? :D

Yes, yes I do :D These are all varying lengths.

masterlist

Scout

Ok, this boy has adhd. Basically canon. But! He didn't know he had it till an informative check-up with Medic who happened to be looking into disorders at the time.

But to be honest he's not really worried about it. It's not like it's that noticeable anyway.

...On behalf of the rest of the mercs I am here to say it is very noticeable. And they have taken to throwing a bunch of random hobbies at him to see what sticks so he'll maybe use up some of his energy.

He's a quick learner, able to pick up new skills pretty quickly.

When he first joined the mercs, he wasn't...the best cook.

He knew the basics because his momma did not raise an idiot.

But it wasn't till Misha and Dell started to tutor him did he really start to learn.

He's pretty close to Heavy, but his actually really good friends with Sniper and Engie too.

Heavy's endless patience keeps him distracted and out of the others' business for awhile, Sniper's a damn good sounding board for all of his ramblings, and Engie is just a sweetheart who looks after everyone.

Soldier

Jane 1000% learned to play the trumpet because he wanted to be a bugler at some point

Not allowed within 50 miles of any military base. No one is entirely certain why.

The raccoons all have little helmets with tiny flags on them. And there is a matching tiny flag inside of Jane's own helmet.

In his free time, he decorates helmets for the other mercs. They're of...varying quality and all have some American iconography somewhere in the designs. But the sentiment is there.

Always, always, pesters Medic about whether or not his medicine is American.

Pyro

So those helmets Jane decorates? Pyro has a shelf dedicated to every one Jane has given them.

They are such a sweetheart it's almost heartbreaking. They make portraits of their teammates all the time. It always shows them hanging out with whoever they drew in a field of flowers.

Loves finger painting

And arts and crafts in general.

Super protective of their teammates - to them, the others are the closest thing they have to family

Frequently has nightmares, can often be found in Dell's workshop late at night because of these - teddy bear and fluffy blanket in hand.

Dell is their favorite person, hands down

The Texan is always so genuine with them

Has a little unicorn nightlight made by said Texan

Heavy

Look me in the eye and tell me you don't think this man knows how to knit, crochet, and sew.

You can't, because he does in fact know how to do all of that.

Finger-knits a lot of the time when he's bored

knits sweaters for Sasha

Is very protective of his team mates, especially Medic, Engie, and Scout.

Has a soft spot for Pyro too, sees them like a little sibling.

Carries a small picture of his family in his wallet. It's a family portrait from when Zhanna was still a baby.

Knows how to sew and thus can do pretty basic repairs and hems. His mother quilts and he'd like to learn how to as well.

No one on the team expected him and Sniper to get along as well as they do but Misha thinks it's because they are both quiet and more introspective which allows them to just exist in each other's spaces pretty comfortably.

His room is full of books, mostly classics, but he's always taking recommendations from Medic, Engie, and Spy.

Has read the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings...may or may not be working on translating the books into Russian

Demoman

Loves card games - poker, blackjack, rummey, nickels, mao

Is also near unbeatable. The only person to ever beat him in any of those? Sniper

Doesn't really like to read but he doesn't mind settling in with a book of Scottish myths and folklore every now and again

He has some hidden distilleries around the base. Drink the product at your own risk.

Collects vintage bottles...refills them

Frequently works with Dell to make his explosives all the more impressive.

Also works with Ludwig to make them do more damage

Him and Heavy try different vodkas together. It's more fun for him than it is Misha but the Russian humors him.

Engineer

This man...this sweetheart

Chronically sleep-deprived (why do you think he never takes his goggles off? you could carry the team's groceries in the bags under his eyes)

Is so smart yet so dumb sometimes, has lost his helmet on his head before.

Is always fixing something. It could be his own machines but more likely he's fixing random appliances.

Shit breaks around the base all the time and he likes to be helpful

If he's not working [and not passed out in his room] he can be found in Medic's lab or hanging out with Pyro

Doesn't really play his guitar around the others but is just waiting for someone to ask him

On that note, he found out by chance that Tavish plays the piano and has played a simple duet with him

I don't know why but I'm convinced he can speak...or well...understand some Spanish. He's not fluent by any stretch of the word but he can read and even understand some spoken Spanish. Would like to actually learn the language

He's not insecure about his hand but he doesn't like to show the gunslinger off. It's one of those things where if you're observant you'll learn about it but if he likes you he'll tell you about it.

Medic

As a man of science and experimentation, he is always learning new things about the human body

And that is showcased in his random experiment of the week.

Prior to actually resurrecting Sniper, he would often just focus on keeping things that should be dead alive. Case in point, Spy's head and his teammates.

Is actively trying to create his own Frankenstein's monster, resurrecting a man was just step one - making his own from scratch and spare parts would be a crowning achievement

Is fluent in multiple languages: German, English, French, and Swedish

Is learning Russian from Misha and similar to Dell can understand, read, and write in Spanish. Difference being he can also hold a conversation.

Frequently experiments on Soldier to figure out why the man is so deranged.

Don't fall asleep around him, you'll miraculously gain five organs.

Doesn't have many hobbies because he's so focused on his work

Misha has tried to teach him to knit but Ludwig just doesn't have the patience for it. Likes to be up and moving and knitting, while stimulating, doesn't scratch the itch in his brain

All of his birds are named after famous philosophers, doctors, and mathematicians

Sniper

So, something I'd like to get straight with the fandom - the Bushman is quiet but not shy.

He's a lot like an old cat that likes to sit in the windowsill - don't touch him, let him watch the world, but feel free to talk at him. Just don't expect him to talk back.

He's also not as awkward as you'd think. Sure he's not great with people but he can hold down a conversation when he has to and is plenty observant, meaning he knows the right kind of questions to ask to keep the other person talking.

Speaking of, he's only particularly close to Misha. And Spy to an extent.

The gentle giant respects his stoicism and Spy does agree that Mick is a very capable professional. They also get along considering both of their work requires a certain level of discretion.

Vulture culture. He takes walks about the base looking for bones a lot of the time. Sometimes makes jewelry and ornaments out of them.

Also a man that can't stand stationary hobbies. He's already resident for work, let him get out and stretch his legs.

Hiking is a big hobby of his. And hunting although that's more out of necessity given his fondness for going off the grid.

Listen, he's a momma's boy. Through and through. If he's near civilization for an extended period of time guess what, he’s calling his mom.

Often talks to his dad too but he’s just not as close to him.

He does know how to play the sax and if he’s really feeling it, he’ll practice in the camper for hours. He thinks this is how spy found out he could play

Spy

Wine aficionado and unfortunately the pretentious kind.

Despite constantly wearing a balaclava he is incredibly well-groomed. He shaves the second he feels the prick of even one hair. His eyebrows are plucked, teeth whitened. He also gets his nails done pretty regularly.

Charcuterie boards are his passion.

Like Medic, he also speaks several languages: English, Arabic, French, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, Greek, Nahuatl, you name it he can probably speak it. Or read it at least.

Is another man fond of the classics when he has time to sit and read, soft music playing in the background.

His knife collection? Vast and not just for show. He has all sorts of fine weaponry from all around the world and from different time periods too. And he knows how to use all of them.

He’ll never admit it but he does have a soft spot for his son

..…………………

Here ya go @iamobsessedwithtf2 and I’ll get to work on the romantic version shortly!

[izzysarchivedblogs]

FINALLY BRYCE DOES GET THE MESSAGE.

Clint waves him with a tightly pressed smile to Bryce as the kid takes off. Now that he was gone, he kind of wishes he wasn't because now he has to face Tony Stark in his living room looking at it with the state that it was in.

It was bad. Colossal and the things he did say to Tony last night were honest and alarming. A breath in sucked in and it does not get released because he is going to need something stronger than his coffee in his mug to get through talking to Tony.

The issue was that he knew exactly that he would bring that up and it was too blatant. If he made this about the alcoholism than at the very least the other part that Tony hasn't even said the word Ronin could be forgotten about.

❝ You think that you can just waltz in here and bring up Kate? You can't. I will kick you out if you bring her up again. I have right to, it's my building. ❞ He goes over to the couch, keeping himself out of arms reach so that Tony would have to move to grab him. Which he is hoping that he does because than he can flip him flat on his back and get out of this conversation. It's already gone to violence, he may as well go all the way.

❝ Around me; you know that it's not lost on me how he's tracking my name through the mud. ❞ HIMSELF. HE WAS DOING THIS TO HIMSELF.

His hand goes over the laptop and pushes it down, picking it up and taking it to the kitchen with him. He places it down underneath where his landline was. He brew up another pot of coffee while he was at it. Maybe pulling out a bottle of whiskey would push Tony away and send the clear message.

That he doesn't care which was the case. It would prove the very point that Tony was making as well. Not when he's got something bigger to focus on. It's a lose-lose-lose situation here and Clint's just trying to decide how he wants to lose.

BRYCE WAS GOING TO GO DOWN WITH HIM FOR THIS. That was a thought that definitely gets under Clint's skin. The kid was already in deep. In his own shit. ❝ I'm helping him with his troubles. I'm doing the good guy thing here, could anyone cut me some fucking slack? ❞ He snaps back at that because whether he can admit it or not.

And he can't. Wasn't that a good thing that he got a kid off of a supervillain's payroll and onto his own. The kid has a record and it's not entirely deserved. He deserves a better chance.

Why'd you steal my mug?

Clint refills said mug with the coffee maker and wishes to burn his hands with hot coffee, he doesn't because it's a good mug. Warm but not hot to hold. Held up over the years unless Tony's secretly had to replace it with a carbon copy. Maybe he should just add the whiskey and spike his coffee.

IT'S COMPLICATED.

❝ I needed a mug. ❞ No he didn't, he wanted a piece of Tony in some fucked up way or something like that. It was symbolic. An artifact from shared history. ❝ It reminded me of Wonder Man, that's why you kept the mug, isn't it? ❞ That's a genuine poke at the fact that he doesn't know the answer, because it's a long running joke as to why Tony had this mug.

Tony kept his arm around Bryce's shoulder, really trying to get to the laptop. "No, honey. Your son is here. Shouldn't I get to know him. he's going to be my step son after all."

He might have gone too far. Bryce was starting to look really panicked about being stuck between them with whatever the hell was going on between Clint and Tony.

"Yeah - I'll go. You've got something going on," Bryce said. "I'll see you later, Clint."

When the kid was gone, Tony half sat on the arm of the couch and folded his arms over his chest. He didn't even know where to start. There was nothing he hadn't said before. No question he hadn't asked. This was just him coming here and pushing because maybe one time Clint would see that he really did have a problem and he'd ask Tony for help.

"So what I'm wondering is, can you see how far gone you are yet or do you think you're still holding it together?" he asked, looking directly at Tony. "I mean, seriously now, Clint. In all honesty, if Kate was to show up here and see this and hear about the things you're doing - or if you're going to lie to me and say it isn't you - the things that are going on around you, how would you feel? Would you be happy with her seeing this shit?"

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Why can't you talk to me? You're clearly going through some shit and I want to help but you won't talk to me. You talk to some kid. I don't know where the hell he came from but of course, let's drag a kid into this mess. Why not? Maybe by the time the shit really goes flying, you can take him down with you. I'm not judging you, Clint. You think I haven't been here? I was here just a few months ago. I am here every fucking day."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at his feet as he tried to think of the perfect thing to say to get Clint to actually listen to him. "Why'd you steal my mug?"