#I might try to experiment with drawing on my phone though

[thelocalcoyote]

So I dunno if anyone’s noticed this or not, but I’ve been trying to make my own designs for the voices lately, and I haven’t been very satisfied with my results so far. More specifically, I’ve been working on (aka struggling with) my Smitten design. I asked myself, “what could be wrong with him? Why doesn’t it feel right?”

And you know what I answered myself with?

“Ma’am, that’s a literal dog.”

(I tried my best at making a ref sheet, but I haven’t really ever made a real one before, sorry it’s pretty chaotic, sorry. Not that it’s really needed-this whole process is meant to help me edit the design, anyways)

(More thoughts under the cut)

So apparently, I somehow made Smitten into a little creature equivalent of a little lap dog or smth. And that’s the problem.

It’s not that I think he looks bad. I actually think he looks super cute like this, I’m happy with that part. And I still think it fits his character pretty well, too-he’s a loyal, silly, fluffy, loud little guy who wants nothing more than to spend every waking moment with the person he loves.

So at this point, you’re probably wondering, “Coyote, just what IS your problem with him then?”

Well, I don’t think he’s exactly husband material. And that’s kind of an essential factor to a Smitten design! (it is to me, ok?) Like, I think people would start to get very concerned with me if I called him my fictional husband and I pulled out a picture of a bird dog. And it’s not like a cool usage of a quadrupedal design, like I’ve seen some people use, he’s just, like, a modded Shih Tzu. I don’t think me (or most people) are comfortable with the idea of trying to romance a modded Shih Tzu.

But at the end of the day, I’m kinda conflicted about the whole thing, because I lowkey love his design? It’s really funny and cute, I can picture all sorts of humorous drawing ideas with him, and I can so easily see it fitting the bill character wise. But I just need him to be attractive.

I think at the end of the day, I have to edit his design so as to allow him to stand upright. Just enough for him to feel closer to human than dog. Should I do that?

if anyone has any ideas, I’m always open to art advice! And this goes for anything here, whether for specific feedback about the design, or just drawing tips in general. Or just talk to me. I like talking. Please talk to me about this. I crave interaction. Please.

Uh but thanks for reading my post, sorry for rambling so long, hope you have a wonderful day!❤️❤️❤️

[1-800-kami]

4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo

content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic

gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.

in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.

despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.

“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.

it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”

gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.

“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”

“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.

“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”

“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.

you’re home.

“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.

you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”

you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”

“horsey!”

“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.

“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”

“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.

“what did you do this time, satoru?”

“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”

“...”

satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”

“satoru-”

“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”

“toru-”

“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”

“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.

“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”

now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”

“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”

“yeah, sure you did.”

being a father is so difficult.

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt if you’re still doing it:

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”

Please

Hello! I'm afraid this one might not have come out quite as seriously as the others (might be channeling all my Serious Angst Energy into my ongoing fic at the moment), but hopefully it's enjoyable, anyway??

[No warnings except maybe some unkind self-directed internal dialogue from Steve]

-

“Y’know,” Eddie drawls, looking Steve up and down where he’s standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the front hall, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look especially busy.”

Steve, caught out in a lie, clearly having been sitting around at home in his sweats when he’d specifically told Eddie that he couldn’t come over tonight because he was busy, does the only thing he can think of: he keeps lying.

“I am,” he says.

“Uh huh.” The way Eddie draws the hum of his agreement out says that he doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. “And what, if I may ask, are you busy with, dressed in loungewear and sitting at home?”

Scrambling, Steve reaches for the first excuse that comes to mind, something he’d heard his mother say to someone over the phone years ago, when he was still a kid and she’d still made excuses to get out of social engagements and stay home with him.

“I’m washing my hair.”

Eddie bites down on a laugh so quickly and so visibly, Steve is surprised his teeth don’t go right through his lip.

“Are you?” Eddie asks, voice gone high and tight with mirth.

“Yep,” Steve answers.

“Well, damn, I don’t know why you didn’t invite me along to help,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve. “I feel like I’ve proven my skill in that arena before.”

Steve stares at Eddie, mouth working, feeling slow and useless and out of ideas. “Uh…”

With a sigh, Eddie lets his smile drop. “Look, can I come inside?”

The jig is up, so Steve just nods and steps aside to let Eddie in.

“What are you even doing here?” Steve asks as he leads the way back to the living room, where he’d been sitting on the couch and moping.

“Steve, I knew you weren’t busy tonight. You’re kind of a terrible liar,” Eddie says.

And that isn’t strictly true; Steve is a great liar – as long as he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He’s never been good at lying to people he loves.

They sit down; Steve shoves the magazines he’d been pretending he would actually be able to focus on out of the way (more proof of his pathetic attempt at a lie), and Eddie—ever blunt, ever direct—jumps right in.

“So I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

Steve winces. “Not avoiding you, I’ve just been… limiting my time with you.”

Eddie looks stricken, and Steve would like to die, actually. Why did he phrase it that way?

“Did… I do something, or say something, or, like–”

“No!” Steve rushes to reassure him. “No, no, not at all, it’s nothing you did, you’re amazing, it’s not you, it’s…”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s not me, it’s you?”

“I mean…” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of, yeah.”

For a long moment, Eddie sits, brows furrowed, staring at Steve. Steve fights the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m trying super hard to figure out what’s going on right now, but I’m kind of coming up blank,” Eddie finally admits. “Are we… Are we breaking up?”

“No!” Steve blurts again, reaching this time for Eddie’s hands, as if he can keep Eddie from realizing what a goddamn idiot he is and leaving if he just holds on tightly enough. “Shit, no, that’s – I’m completely fucking this up, that’s the opposite of what I want to happen, that’s why I’ve been limiting my time with you.”

Though Eddie’s hands have turned in Steve’s grip, automatically holding onto him, he stares at Steve as though he’s lost his mind, which is fair. “Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “I admit you have a little more experience with relationships than I do, but isn’t the point to spend as much time as possible with the person you’re dating? Because you like them?”

“It’s… Usually, I guess, yeah.” Steve shrugs, suddenly wishing maybe that he hadn’t taken Eddie’s hands, because now he can’t get away, can’t duck out from under those dark, searching eyes. He settles for staring down at their joined hands as he speaks. “It’s just – I can be… kind of a lot? I like someone and I just kind of slam my foot on the gas and don’t look back and that’s too much, I know, so I’ve been trying not to, like, overwhelm you, because I really, really don’t want you to get sick of me, and–”

“Who the hell told you that?” Eddie cuts in sharply.

Steve’s eyes snap back up, finding Eddie looking so thoroughly offended that he’s not sure what to make of it. “Told me what?”

“That you’re too much,” Eddie presses, his hands going tighter around Steve’s.

“Uh,” Steve says, uncertain of what kind of answer Eddie’s looking for. The fact that Steve goes all-in too quickly is just common knowledge; the fact that it overwhelms and annoys people is kind of a general consensus.

Eddie shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them,” he says, low and intense. “You’re not going to overwhelm me, Steve. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you, but the only way I’m gonna know for sure is if I get to have you around as often as possible for as long as you can stand me.”

The words, for a moment, don’t make any sense. No one has ever wanted Steve around that much; no one’s ever met him where he is in terms of hunger for companionship.

“You… want me around that often?” he asks, eyes flicking from Eddie’s face to their hands and back again.

“I want you around all the goddamn time. I want you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I’m having breakfast and when I’m doing shit around the house and when I’m playing a show and when I’m watching TV,” Eddie rattles off. “I’m not even exaggerating, it’s honestly kind of a problem.”

“A problem?” Steve asks, brows coming together in concern.

“It’s a problem because you’ve been limiting your time, thinking that I’m going to get tired of you.” Eddie disentangles their hands and reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, palms soft and a little sweaty from their combined grip, but gentle—almost reverent—against his skin. “Sweetheart, I am never going to get tired of you.”

From anyone else, that would be hard to believe, but the way Eddie looks at him, dead-on and so fucking sincere, Steve can’t help but take the promise in with a hopeful flutter in his chest. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, keeping the kiss chaste and slow before he pulls back to murmur, “Promise?”

“Promise,” Eddie answers immediately. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”

He tugs Steve forward after that, pushing and pulling him until he’s managed to lay out across the length of the couch and has situated Steve over him, lying on his chest like a weighted blanket. He sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, like he still wants to pull him closer.

“Perfect,” he says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, balancing his chin Eddie’s sternum so he can smile up at him.

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Now I just have to figure out how to keep you this close all the time.”

“Might be kinda tough,” Steve says, fighting to keep his smile from growing to ridiculous proportions.

“Eh.” Eddie shrugs, ducking down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m willing to take the time to figure it out.”

And somehow, Steve thinks that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.

[haza1ll]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[shypitaya]

Okay, so

I finally got my bf into reading Homestuck. I was on a phone call with him as he read it at loud, voice-acting and stuff, while I was drawing. Today he reached the Dave first appearance and he discovered Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

You have to understand that I always thought that this comics was just a stupid joke that only Hussie understands and finds funny. Bc the moment I saw the page with the dog (you know which one) I left the comics and never looked at it again. Until today.

My boyfriend read every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff in complete silence. I asked him what's wrong, and he said "This is extremely sad". I was confused so he started explaining to me how this comics is a way little Dave was coping with trauma of living with his abusive brother. I didn't believe that, so I started reading the comics again and you know what?

Imagine adult Dirk, being completely under Lord English control, going shopping with little Dave and destroying supermarket in frustration of not finding anything that Calliborn would recognize as a food, being arrested by police in process and leaving little Dave alone hidden somewhere in the shop.

Imagine little Dave being pushed from the stairs so many times by his bro, he drew a caricature of himself pushing his bro off the stairs in revenge. Or being regularly beaten so hard and often, so he drew comics in which his brother got beaten up, shitted on and even brutally killed.

Imagine little Dave being so hungry (bc of course brother didnt give him proper food) he literally threw himself at a Subway sandwich machine during idk a walk with his bro (probably) and tried to steal some food or even just smell the actual normal food and while doing so got abandoned by his brother. Again.

Of course we can't interpret this way every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, but come on, if you start seeing it, you cant stop sensing that every single page is either a way Dave coped with a traumatic experience or a way he kind of got revenge on his brother in a way his brother wouldn't understand and notice and beat him up for doing so.

I searched internet for so long and can't find a single person who would interpret it this way. Am I wrong though??

It gets better. As we know, Dave from universe B also drew this comic. And we even got a directly explained to us interpretation: he started drawing it as a simple comic (probably to cope with the loneliness). Then when Batterwitch became a real danger and he saw that but couldn't react directly, he started using his comics as a way to show what Betty Crocker was really like. So we also had this two characters, one represented Betty Crocker and the second one represented society, and they had this very abusive relationship that had references to situations in real life in Universe B.

So my theory (or more like my bfs theory) is that Dave from universe A was using his comics for the same exact thing. He drew situations from his life in a unreadable for others way (and also no one taught him how to draw or write, and maybe later he kept the shitty format so it's unreadable and too shitty for his brother to read) to cope with trauma. We see in this comics that Sweet Bro is shaving himself above Jeffs face while he sleeps, a thing that Dave's bro could definitely do. We see some pages of Dave trying to understand sport, economy and politics in his own way, bc his brother of course didn't teach him shit. And we even got a page that might suggest that Dave was sexually molested by his bro. There are many scenes of Bro being abusive to Jeff or Jeff getting his revenge. We also have Geromy, a possible interpretation of John, and on one page Jeff (Dave) tries to come to Geromy's (John's) place to visit him, but he can't and he drowns instead (which is so sad???).

I could go through every single page with this interpretation. I think some pages being a foreshadowings for what is happening later in Homestuck is just an additional joke, Hussie loves having layers of meta twists and many unrelated things relating or referencing each other for no reason. I don't think the comics is Dave's unconscious traveling through time and revealing the future, bc if so then we would see every single page of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff being a foreshadowing, and they are not. I also think that the huge wink to the audience was the scene of Dave being pushed by his bro down the stairs and we see him falling with accompaniment of a little panel of Jeff saying "I warned you about the stairs, bro". For me this is a visible hint that this is what this page of the comics was about, it was a way of coping with trauma, it was Dave drawing his brother falling down the stairs and himself saying probably a line that his brother irl was saying to him a lot.

Dave drew his life. His own horror of a life and it was probably more terrifying than he revealed in act 6.

Do you remember the iconic "bro hug" from Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff? A hug from his bro, sth that Dave really needed and wanted, a simple hug that he was very nervous to asked for, he literally drew himself hugging his brother in his second comic, and then we have the very same scene of Davepeta and Arquius hugging (part of them was Dave hugging Dirk, even if artificial), and then we have the exactly opposite of the scene between actual Dave and Dirk, when instead of enthusiastic "we're doing it bro, its happening, were making it" it's Dave saying "fuck forgive me for what I'm doing, this is so messed up fuck" and it's not even full embrace like in his comic, it's awkwardly side by side hug when they didn't even sit on the same level (like in the comic or with sprites), no, Dave is lower, he's smaller, he's scared, he cant face his brother, he wants to but he can't and this is just aaaansnanbska dmnsksnsdkydykdky

Can someone talk about this comic more? This flashy shitty documentary of Dave's life drawn by idk maybe 8 years old Dave ? The more I read Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, the more depressed I am, cause this is so sad if I'm right about it. I really wish it was just stupid colorful comic without any deeper meaning, just faking to have one or sth....

Also I think Geromy is black bc either Dave didn't know how John looks like so he imagined him being somewhat similar to his fav president Obama or maybe he was just trying to make John's character as unlike John as possible so no one would suspect a thing. Or maybe he just imagine himself being friends with young Obama, who knows.

After editing this chaotic rambling I have two more things as a prove for my theory. One is picture above, and second is what Hussie said about Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff:

“SBaHJ is absolutely inseparable from HS, and has been almost from the start. If you don't understand this, then you don't understand HS very well. SBaHJ is like the mentally handicapped step brother of MSPA, requiring special attention, but no less cherished as a part of the family. It was originally intended as the chief source of in-house memes for dialogue, but this is ultimately a superficial purpose. Though it only has 20+ strips, it contains a pretty dense and internally consistent language of recurring symbols and typo-driven grammars, applicable as a rich sub-cognitive lexicon for highlighting elusive elements woven into the mythology of the story which tend to be shrouded in the unconscious.”

[valeriehalla]

I don’t know what to do about the internet. It’s getting worse, and getting worse faster than I think any of us ever could have imagined even just six years ago. Tumblr shot itself in the heart at the behest of Apple, at the behest of whichever nameless evangelical finance perverts are in charge of credit card policy, whereupon people like me (artists and people who like art) fled in droves to Twitter, the present state of which I don’t have it in me to be funny about.

Even after that one-two punch, Twitter and Tumblr are still the only (major) social media platforms I can stand to use. I mean, they’re the last ones left where you can, for example, see posts that your friends have made. I might have said that that seemed like the whole point of social media; every digital elsewhere has now collectively agreed that it is, in fact, social media’s greatest flaw. Your friends like to hang out and post weird jokes and titty drawings — they don’t know the first thing about your favorite marketing trends, let alone your unslakable thirst for 30-second phone videos. We have to move on: I’ll die if I think about it.

Uh — I wanna let you in a little. Here’s where I’m at, okay? I’m working on this project. I like it a lot: it’s a writing thing and an art thing and a music thing all at the same time. I’m still struggling with art burnout, but every day I get to sit down and write or compose for this thing is an unending delight, so on the balance it’s been great to work on. It’s taken me a while to get here, though — I’ve blown past all my estimates about when it’d be done. Still, it won’t be much longer.

In the mean time, I keep having these compulsive worries. I feel that I should be posting, but the nature of a long-form project like this is that I don’t have anything to post. I tweet complete nothings now and then, as if to announce my presence, like a lighthouse pulsing in the distance. And every week the websites get worse. They’re bleeding out, and it feels like some of my blood’s in there, maybe. Like, maybe you’d call me naïve, but it wasn’t that long ago that I really, really liked all this online stuff. I never had the hustle culture mindset about it: by good luck alone I managed to make a living posting the stuff I wanted to post on the places I wanted to post it.

The places I liked to post don’t exist anymore. My experience of using the internet feels hostile, alien. The ground beneath all our feet feels eggshell-thin.

But I have to use the internet: it’s where my stuff goes. It’s where all of you are. Here is where art and artists and art-likers live.

The things I love live here, in precarity, as the saw blades and lava traps of our digital dungeon grow every day more numerous.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that the web sucks now, but as long as we’re here — and we will be here — I want to try loving it again anyway. I want to untangle myself from all this disappointment and expectation and try simply “vibing” again. I wanna use cohost more: I’ll even crosspost stuff to Tumblr like I keep saying I should. I’m making a cool thing and I should show it off! I should relearn how to draw a little doodle and post it without feeling like it’s a suboptimal use of my time or whatever!! I want to believe in what joy may find us, though our world be a dumpster.

[docholligay]

So let's talk full metal alchemist (2003)

I'm gonna reblog this a couple times before the liveblog.

I genuinely and really want to have a good time watching this anime.

I knew, when I took this assignment--not even just took it, I basically took it on as a co-sponsor--that the fandom for this is very passionate and intense. I do love that! But unfortunately, it sometimes leads to a situation where my enjoyment of the show is being hampered by the need to share details of the show with me.

I do not want to quit this show. I feel like we might actually be getting somewhere. I love that people really seem to be enjoying someone who knows functionally nothing about FMA even by OSMOSIS, watch this show for the first time. I could not have told you a single character's name when I started this. Having someone be so naive to the lore is a rarity, and I am delighted by how many of you seem to be engaged and excited about it!

But. There is a contingent of people for whom it is really hard to stop themselves from telling me stuff about the show. I don't even always assume malice, but in the same way that I'm mad if someone rear-ends just because they happen to be playing on their cell phone, I am really truly annoyed by the fact that I keep getting clued in to stuff. I keep getting what I consider spoiled.

So, to me it's extremely obvious while watching The Sixth Sense that Bruce Willis is dead. I actually figured it out while watching the movie. Let's say someone is liveblogging The Sixth Sense. Do you think it would be a spoiler for me to say, "I mean, ever since he got shot we notice he never talks to anyone but the kid directly, who we know can see ghosts." Do you not? Think? Even though in the most TECHNICAL SENSE, they have seen the thing that I am drawing attention to?

This is what I'm talking about when I say don't correct, don't confirm, don't deny, don't bring up stuff that I have missed. Missing things, or forgetting them, is an organic part of a watching experience. I liked Utena SO MUCH, and I thought it was SO GOOD, that even after finishing the whole series I came back and liveblogged some episodes again. And I saw it completely differently!

This is what I think gets missed sometimes, is that you cannot unring a bell. If you know where something is going it's easier to contextualize stuff. That leads to passionate feelings and defense and hatred based on THINGS I DO NOT KNOW. It's okay if I fail to criticize or compliment something because I don't yet understand the full picture. It's okay if I make a mistake based on the information I've retained.

"Doc, do you mean that you only want us to blow your skirt up?" No! Not at all!

"I think you are so fucking wrong about Ed and I hate all of your opinions you dumb cunt" <--- beautiful, organic, no spoilers whatsoever

"Well, if you remember in Liore, when Ed spoke to Rose, and he echoed--" No. Terrible. You are telling me that Bruce Wills' clothes never change.

This is what I mean when I say let me be dumb! I DO make mistakes and I DO miss things, but so did you the first time you saw it!

I would really love to stick with this show. This is the reason the discord exists, which has plenty of people talking about what an idiot I am! They would all LOVE to know why I am wrong and probably agree with you! They will be impressed with your knowledge in a way I am not.

Please let me share my reactions and experience with you on a blank canvas.

I want to extend a genuine thank you to so many of you who have been supportive, fun, enthusiastic, and tried very hard to preserve this unusual way of experiencing a very old and well known show. You all are the reason I keep coming back to try this! I would have cried uncle long ago if not for you.

[sunriseverse]

I keep meaning to look this up, but could you please help in pointing me somewhere to start? I'm learning Chinese (on a hobby level, at a snail's pace) and every class, on- or offline I tried so far expects me to just bruteforce learning hanzi one by one. I think you've mentioned it before (or I read it somewhere, can't remember) that there's a logic to how they are built and by knowing the building blocks you can even guess how a new-to-you character might be pronounced. Could you point me somewhere reliable I could learn more about this? Thank you :)

hi fixa! my apologies in advance if this reply is a little disordered, i personally learnt chinese as a child/growing up in china so my experience with learning chinese is very different from those wanting to learn as adults. but hopefully the resources i've provided will at least give you a starting point!

in terms of texts:

for character dictionaries that allow you to look things up via radicals and/or allow you to practice writing, there is adrian van amstel's text "simplified chinese character dictionary", cheng & tsui's "chinese character dictionary", and muhammad wolfgang g. a. schmidt's "the big chinese character dictionary" which all look fairly promising. cheng & tsui and schmidt's texts both have built-in writing portions, where you can practice the characters, while amstel's text is more of a classic dictionary in that you can only look characters up. (there's another text that i would recommend here, but i can't for the life of me remember the title and i don't have the text on hand—it's probably from the 80s, but it also teaches characters through radicals and has some explanation on the history of the evolution of the characters? will add this if/when i remember the title (providing i didn't list it already, but i don't think i have).)

the main drawback to these is that i haven't actually been able to find a copy of the cheng & tsui text online anywhere :/ it is possible to find the schmidt one, though (probably because it was published in '65—which is a drawback because i'm not sure where it would be in terms of simplified characters vs traditional), as well as the amstel text (though the copy i managed to find lists both the traditional and simplified character versions, which might be a bit confusing).

for actually learning how to write chinese characters, without having to pay anything: i cannot recommend TOFU Learn enough. when i was trying to regain competency in writing, this was the app/website i used the most. it's technically a general flashcard resource, but it's designed for learning chinese first—there are specific decks for all the hsk levels, and for radicals (usually the kangxi radicals list, but there are also 100 most common lists, etc).

in terms of other resources:

— the pleco dictionary is invaluable for looking characters up—it also breaks down characters by components, and you can, if you have it downloaded on your phone, draw characters to look them up rather than having to remember the pinyin. it also includes alternate pronunciations of characters when they exist (saved my life in a classical chinese translation project where i was ripping my hair out trying to figure out who the fuck was being talked about because the common pronunciation wasn't yielding shit).

— haven't used it myself, but my good friend @commandersya claims the mandarin blueprint system is incredibly helpful (despite looking scammy as hell); they have a free 30 day trial, as well. they put a lot of emphasis on radicals/character components, though the system they use to memorise characters feels a little baffling and roundabout to me (but howl says it works great, and i trust her because she's actually the one learning it from scratch).

most other resources i can think of off the top of my head are geared more towards getting you ready to speak, so i hope at least some of these are useful!

( @mejomonster might have some further resources as well; i know he's been studying chinese for a while, and would probably be a better source for that sort of thing than i am, since my experience is not really anything like your average foreign chinese language student.)

[axelsagewrites]

Hello. Could I request a fic with f reader working at Richmond and Jan Maas faling in love with reader. Just fluff. ❤️

Jan Maas*Sweet As You

Pairing: Jan Maas x f!reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: pure fluff

Masterlist here

There were definite perks and draw backs of working at Richmond. On one hand as a receptionist, you got paid to do honestly not very much. However, on the other hand you had to deal with a weird amount of prank calls from football fans.

One recently developing perk was the free coffee you received every morning. No, it wasn't a company thing or from your boss or other colleagues. Every morning this week Jan Maas walked in with a black coffee in one hand and an iced caramel mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso in the other.

It all started when you happened to walk into work at the same time and he noticed the Starbucks cup in your hand. "Is that even coffee at this point?" He half teased half seriously wondered.

"It is coffee," you said, drawing out the words as you defended yourself as Jan opened the front door for you, "caffeine not enough for me. I need that sugar high to deal with you lot,"

Jan chuckled at you, walking you over to the desk where your coworker pretended not to be listening in. "Funny. I thought you were sweet enough. See you later," he said, walking away to leave you a blushing mess.

However as soon as he got out of sight Jan became equally as flustered as he realised what he'd said. What was worse was Sam hearing him muttering under his breath about it resulting in Sam telling all the guys who then set up a plan to teach Jan how to flirt.

The issue was he wasn't very good at it. Instead, every morning without fail he got your coffee for you. "Hey Jan," you called, rolling down your car window as you slowed down. It was 7am and he was walking to Richmond with two coffees in hand, "need a lift?"

Jan preferred to walk. He'd never really seen the big deal around cars. However, he was quick to accept your offer. "My coffees will bankrupt you," you joked as you accepted the drink before resuming your drive.

"Don’t worry about it," he laughed, "your worth the money,"

"Think you can buy my affection? “you teased as you were pulling into Richmond.

"Maybe," he said it quietly, his eyes darting away before back to yours. "Is it working?" He asked.

You turned the car off, taking a long sip out your coffee while pretending to think about it, "I think it might be," you finally said, a smile on your lips and a large grin on his. "Throw in a pastry next time and I'm yours,"

When people saw you get out the same car there were some rumours to say the least. Another drawback of the job. However, another perk was walking in right now with a coffee and a suspiciously sweet-smelling brown bag.

"I wasn't sure which to get so I picked whichever looked the sweetest," he said as he placed the bag down.

"You know me so well," you grinned, "thanks though. Take it you don't have time to have one before practise?" You asked despite knowing he didn’t, but you couldn't help but try.

Your smile plus the way your eyelashes batted had Jan Maas willing to pay the late fee. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the reception desk as you offered him a pastry, "You should make Stroopkoeken with me one day. You'd like them,"

"What are they?" You asked, not realising how adorable Jan thought your head tilt was in your confusion.

"They're like a Carmel biscuit. My mum would make them for me growing up. Better than any Starbucks pastry," he joked, “But you have to make them from scratch to get the best experience,”

“You’ll have to teach me some time,” you smiled back and is if on queue his phone began ringing.

Jan deflated when he saw his teammates call, “I’ll need to go now. I’ll see you later,”

As he began to walk away you cringed before taking a deep breath, “Wait!” you called making him stop in his tracks. “Are you free tomorrow night? Maybe we could try making those biscuits,” you offered with an awkward smile that he found insanely endearing.

A wide grin broke onto his face, “I’d love to. It’s a date,” he said before actually turning to go to practise, leaving you a grinning mess.

-

“A baking date is perfect!”

“Nah man you should go out to a restaurant for the first date,”

“Oh, what if you take her to Sam’s place for dinner first?”

“There’s a new bar up the street you could go to after,”

“What you gonna wear bruv?”

“Make sure you actually clean up. Chicks notice that kinda stuff,”

“Oh, you should get her flowers. Birds dig flowers,”

“And make sure when you go to kiss her- “

“Woah woah guys!” Jan said, standing up from the bench and pushing past his teammates who’d essentially jumped on him after practise when they found out why he was late, “It’s just a first date. Well, I think it’s a date. I said it’s a date, but people here don’t always mean date, oh god what if she doesn’t realise it’s a date?” Jan began to panic, turning to his equally clueless mates.

They were all panicking till a loud, “Oi,” stopped them, “Don’t listen to these pricks,” Roy told him after pretending not to care the whole time, “Shower, shave, tidy up, and calm down. She’ll know it’s a date since all you two do is flirt like some snot nosed teens,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy’s right,” Sam said, standing to put a hand on Jan’s shoulder, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,”

“Not what I said but alright,” Roy shrugged but this time he got ignored.

Well apart from Jamie who rolled his eyes before adding his own words of wisdom. “Yeah, mate just be yourself,”

-

The kitchen was now a mess, sugar spilt everywhere, and a pot that looked like it would never be clean again and of course a plate of perfectly made biscuits. “I don’t know how my mum made it look so easy,” Jan said.

You laughed as you reached up to wipe the flour off his forehead, “Yeah but they taste good so who cares,” you said, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink whenever you touched him.

“They’re almost as sweet as you,” he smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face making your own skin flush.

Enough was enough you thought, “So tell me something,” you said, Jan humming as he waited for you to ask, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you nearly whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

Pairing: Jan Maas x f!reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: pure fluff

There were definite perks and draw backs of working at Richmond. On one hand as a receptionist, you got paid to do honestly not very much. However, on the other hand you had to deal with a weird amount of prank calls from football fans.

One recently developing perk was the free coffee you received every morning. No, it wasn't a company thing or from your boss or other colleagues. Every morning this week Jan Maas walked in with a black coffee in one hand and an iced caramel mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso in the other.

It all started when you happened to walk into work at the same time and he noticed the Starbucks cup in your hand. "Is that even coffee at this point?" He half teased half seriously wondered.

"It is coffee," you said, drawing out the words as you defended yourself as Jan opened the front door for you, "caffeine not enough for me. I need that sugar high to deal with you lot,"

Jan chuckled at you, walking you over to the desk where your coworker pretended not to be listening in. "Funny. I thought you were sweet enough. See you later," he said, walking away to leave you a blushing mess.

However as soon as he got out of sight Jan became equally as flustered as he realised what he'd said. What was worse was Sam hearing him muttering under his breath about it resulting in Sam telling all the guys who then set up a plan to teach Jan how to flirt.

The issue was he wasn't very good at it. Instead, every morning without fail he got your coffee for you. "Hey Jan," you called, rolling down your car window as you slowed down. It was 7am and he was walking to Richmond with two coffees in hand, "need a lift?"

Jan preferred to walk. He'd never really seen the big deal around cars. However, he was quick to accept your offer. "My coffees will bankrupt you," you joked as you accepted the drink before resuming your drive.

"Don’t worry about it," he laughed, "your worth the money,"

"Think you can buy my affection? “you teased as you were pulling into Richmond.

"Maybe," he said it quietly, his eyes darting away before back to yours. "Is it working?" He asked.

You turned the car off, taking a long sip out your coffee while pretending to think about it, "I think it might be," you finally said, a smile on your lips and a large grin on his. "Throw in a pastry next time and I'm yours,"

When people saw you get out the same car there were some rumours to say the least. Another drawback of the job. However, another perk was walking in right now with a coffee and a suspiciously sweet-smelling brown bag.

"I wasn't sure which to get so I picked whichever looked the sweetest," he said as he placed the bag down.

"You know me so well," you grinned, "thanks though. Take it you don't have time to have one before practise?" You asked despite knowing he didn’t, but you couldn't help but try.

Your smile plus the way your eyelashes batted had Jan Maas willing to pay the late fee. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the reception desk as you offered him a pastry, "You should make Stroopkoeken with me one day. You'd like them,"

"What are they?" You asked, not realising how adorable Jan thought your head tilt was in your confusion.

"They're like a Carmel biscuit. My mum would make them for me growing up. Better than any Starbucks pastry," he joked, “But you have to make them from scratch to get the best experience,”

“You’ll have to teach me some time,” you smiled back and is if on queue his phone began ringing.

Jan deflated when he saw his teammates call, “I’ll need to go now. I’ll see you later,”

As he began to walk away you cringed before taking a deep breath, “Wait!” you called making him stop in his tracks. “Are you free tomorrow night? Maybe we could try making those biscuits,” you offered with an awkward smile that he found insanely endearing.

A wide grin broke onto his face, “I’d love to. It’s a date,” he said before actually turning to go to practise, leaving you a grinning mess.

-

“A baking date is perfect!”

“Nah man you should go out to a restaurant for the first date,”

“Oh, what if you take her to Sam’s place for dinner first?”

“There’s a new bar up the street you could go to after,”

“What you gonna wear bruv?”

“Make sure you actually clean up. Chicks notice that kinda stuff,”

“Oh, you should get her flowers. Birds dig flowers,”

“And make sure when you go to kiss her- “

“Woah woah guys!” Jan said, standing up from the bench and pushing past his teammates who’d essentially jumped on him after practise when they found out why he was late, “It’s just a first date. Well, I think it’s a date. I said it’s a date, but people here don’t always mean date, oh god what if she doesn’t realise it’s a date?” Jan began to panic, turning to his equally clueless mates.

They were all panicking till a loud, “Oi,” stopped them, “Don’t listen to these pricks,” Roy told him after pretending not to care the whole time, “Shower, shave, tidy up, and calm down. She’ll know it’s a date since all you two do is flirt like some snot nosed teens,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy’s right,” Sam said, standing to put a hand on Jan’s shoulder, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,”

“Not what I said but alright,” Roy shrugged but this time he got ignored.

Well apart from Jamie who rolled his eyes before adding his own words of wisdom. “Yeah, mate just be yourself,”

-

The kitchen was now a mess, sugar spilt everywhere, and a pot that looked like it would never be clean again and of course a plate of perfectly made biscuits. “I don’t know how my mum made it look so easy,” Jan said.

You laughed as you reached up to wipe the flour off his forehead, “Yeah but they taste good so who cares,” you said, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink whenever you touched him.

“They’re almost as sweet as you,” he smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face making your own skin flush.

Enough was enough you thought, “So tell me something,” you said, Jan humming as he waited for you to ask, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you nearly whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

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[jtl07]

Stray cat, first apartment, new adult

last one! i think the biggest takeaway from these "challenge" prompts is that i need to read more genres wow

also: anon, my apologies, i realized belatedly that the cat was supposed to be a stray but by the time i'd checked again, this had gotten a bit away from me. i hope it's still okay! (also everyone thank @littledata for the name inspiration lol)

When Beatrice had been making all the preparations for her new - her first - apartment, what she hadn't counted on was the quiet. It's not perfectly silent - she can hear the thankfully muffled sounds of what seems to be a party next door - but it's quiet enough that it throws her off balance. Not because of the quiet itself: quiet was a familiar guest in her life, a space held for it always. But she hadn't quite realized how much different the quiet would feel, now.

It's different, she knows, different from the cold silence she'd lived with as a child. But it's different still from the warmth she'd had with her grandparents these past few years: reading with her grandfather at opposite corners of his study, kneading dough side by side with her grandmother, walking through the garden with the both of them under the stars.

She knows that they're just a phone call away, knows that she'll be with them again just next week for dinner. Beatrice closes her eyes and presses a hand to her chest. Knows that she'll be okay. Breathes through it. Breathes again.

Hears a soft jingle.

Beatrice straightens, blinks - stands from her sofa when the sound comes again. Follows it to the kitchen.

Blinks again when she finds herself face to face with a cat sitting on the counter.

"Hello, sir," Beatrice murmurs, glancing around to see the window with the loose latch above the sink now fully open (scratches out the mental note she'd made to repair it).

The cat greets her just as gently, rubbing his cheek against Beatrice's palm when she slowly reaches toward it. She can't help but smile at his friendliness. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she says, petting along his back.

She catches sight of a collar around his neck and hanging from it is a bell and a name tag: "Jean-Clawde Van Damn," she reads aloud. She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, can't help but laugh as well. "Your owner has quite the sense of humor."

A knock at her front door has Beatrice murmuring her leave to accept a surprise food delivery care of her grandparents. But when she calls them and goes to the kitchen to introduce them to Jean-Clawde, she finds the kitchen empty.

**

He comes back though, to Beatrice's delight, always through the kitchen window. She finds his presence a welcome one, especially on days when all her trying - to make friends, to experience new things, to remember that things don't have to be perfect - has her tired and makes the quiet too loud; it helps to have a bit of comfort in the form of a furry friend.

The next time Beatrice is at the grocery - which in itself is also new, wheeling the cart by herself, balancing her budget by herself - she finds herself lingering in the pet aisle, eyeing snacks and toys alike. Wonders what Jean-Clawde would like.

The next time he visits, Beatrice is ready: she writes a note to Jean-Clawde's owner explaining his visits, asks for permission to feed him and any preferences and/or restrictions he might have. She tucks it into his collar for his return home.

It takes a couple days for Jean-Clawde to come back and when he does, it's with a folded up sticky note tucked into his collar - yellow with what looks like a drawing of a duck in the corner, accompanied by an enthusiastic granting of permission - JC eats anything but it's okay to kick him out if he's too much! - and a pun that has Beatrice chuckling, has her searching her own brain for one to send in return.

It's only polite, Beatrice thinks to herself, smiling as she tucks another note into Jean-Clawde's collar for him to send back to his intriguing owner.

**

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I must answer the door," Beatrice murmurs, trying her best to ignore Jean-Clawde's whining mewls as she lifts him from her lap. She frowns a bit at him in concern as she stands. He'd arrived in the morning earlier than usual and, contrary to his usual behavior, had stayed near Beatrice for almost the entire day.

I'll add it to today's note, Beatrice thinks as she opens the door at another set of frantic knocks.

"I apologize for the wait -" "Hi sorry -"

It's not often that Beatrice is stunned to silence - well, not ever, in fact. It's something new indeed to be gobsmacked by a beautiful woman standing at her front door.

The woman shakes herself, sticks out her hand and grins. "Hi, I'm Ava, I live next door. I'm sorry I never got the chance to introduce myself."

"Pleasure to meet you," Beatrice murmurs, honest and stunned as she takes her hand.

"I know this is pretty sudden and uh well see I'm looking for my cat, he kinda wanders around, he's a free soul yknow? I dunno if you've seen him - he's gray with green eyes, has a little bell -"

Beatrice glances over her shoulder. "Do you mean Mr. Van Damn?" Opens the door wider so Ava has a view of the sofa and its current occupant.

Ava sighs the sigh of an exhausted cat-mother. "Jean-Clawde Van Damn, you're in a world of trouble, buddy. We're gonna be late for your doctor's appointment." She gives Beatrice an apologetic look. "I think he saw the cat carrier this morning."

"I see," Beatrice says, then, without thinking, "It sounds like he's not the most patient of patients."

Ava whips around from where she'd been trying to coax the cat from the sofa, stares at Beatrice with her mouth agape. "It's you!"

Beatrice blinks in surprise. Remembers the tucked notes sent back and forth via Jean-Clawde's collar. "'Tis I," she says shyly. Starts to slide her hands into her pockets only to bring them out to quickly catch Jean-Clawde when he jumps off the sofa and into her arms.

"I'm glad we finally met in person," Ava says, grinning and bouncing on her toes. "Never thought you were right next door though, would've asked you out for coffee weeks ago." Ava stops, eyes wide as she gestures wildly. "I mean, only if you're interested, I know we like, don't really know each other -"

"Ava." Beatrice waits until Ava stops and takes a breath. Beatrice bites her lip, lets herself try: "Coffee sounds great. Purr-fect, even."

The laugh she gets in response eases every bit of tension in Beatrice's body. "Well, are you doing anything now? Looks like this guy is uh pretty attached to you," Ava says, gesturing to how Jean-Clawde's nestled in her arms. "Not exactly dinner and a movie but hey."

Beatrice chuckles as Jean-Clawde nuzzles her cheek. "I'd be happy to," she says, following Ava and her heart into something new.

[kikyoupdates]

Bloodthirst ⭑˚💋⭑ 𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠

bnha x vampire!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, my vampire!reader, slowburn

As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood.

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“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Izuku?”  

“No, it’s okay,” he insisted. “He seemed to want to hang out with you, not me. That’s the whole reason he had me save his number in the first place. And I think this would be good for you. You’re still getting used to this world... but we can’t be together every single moment of the day. You’ll get some important practice this way. Plus, I’m sure you might want to make other friends too. It’s probably boring always talking to a guy like me.”

Izuku finished off his sentence with a weak chuckle, awkwardly rubbing his neck. You really hated that he had such low self-confidence. He was an amazing person, and he deserved to know that much. Clearly, all of Katsuki’s bullying had really left its mark. Stupid bastard. You were practically itching to bash his face in again.  

You pouted but nodded in understanding. “Well, okay then. I’ll meet Kaminari on my own this time, but maybe you’ll come with us in the future. I’m sure he’d like to be friends with you too. I have a phone now, so I can call you if anything happens, right?”

“Of course! If you ever start to feel uncomfortable for whatever reason, or if you end up getting lost while trying to make your way home, don't hesitate to call me. I’ll be keeping an eye on my phone, so don’t be too worried and just try to have a nice time,” he encouraged.  

Izuku was always looking out for you. Even though it hadn’t even been all that long since you’d met, he cared for you as if you’d already spent several years together. You doubted anyone else would have believed your story and gone out of their way to help you like this. He really was special.  

You couldn’t believe that you were actually thinking this, but you were kind of glad your parents had banished you. Otherwise, you and Izuku would have never met.  

Izuku took a few more moments just to make sure you’d packed all the essentials into your bag—your phone, obviously, but also a pass to board the bullet train, and basic first aid, since you apparently had a knack for getting yourself in trouble.

Just like that, it was time to make your first real trip in this new world. Izuku waved you off with a bright smile, although you didn’t miss the visible nervousness in his expression. He clearly knew you needed to get used to things on your own, but he couldn’t help but look a little worried. Thankfully, since you’d had some of Katsuki’s blood to drink recently, you weren’t running the risk of starving or anything like that.

Izuku had gone through all the instructions with you beforehand. He’d told you exactly which stop you needed to get off at, and where to go from there in order to meet up with Kaminari. He’d also written out a little note using one of the apps in your phone. If you struggled to understand part of it, worst case scenario, you could just ask someone for directions. You weren’t too worried about getting lost. Then again, you’d always been rather careless, so perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to worry at least a little.

The first half of your trip went by in a flash. You spent the whole time staring out the windows of the bullet train with your lips parted in awe. 

This is so much faster than I expected! Even those big vehicles with wheels, “cars”, like Izuku calls them, don’t go this fast. Wow... 

No matter how much you learned about this world, there was always so much more for you to experience for the first time. You seemed to be drawing quite a bit of attention to yourself, excitedly squirming in your seat and all, but you could really care less. You were actually quite lucky that this was the world you’d been transported to. It was fun and so much different from your own. You could’ve really drawn the short end of the stick and ended up in some hellscape perpetually ravaged by war.

Eventually, the train reached your destination, so you got off and glanced down at the note app on your phone to orient yourself for the remainder of your trip. You still struggled to read and write perfectly, but Izuku had thoroughly drilled all the steps into your head, so you managed to find your way around based on memory alone.  

It seemed like you were nearing the meeting spot you and Kaminari had both agreed on. Eager to see him again, you started glancing around all over the place.

Your excitement, however, was short-lived. It only took a few seconds for your smile to drop all at once. There was an unpleasant stench in the air. It made your stomach clench into a tight knot. Frankly speaking, it was unlike anything you’d ever smelled before.  

Tainted blood. 

It was the only way you could think to describe it. It was especially overwhelming when a guy angrily shoved past you, muttering something under his breath. He was dressed all in black, with his hood pulled up over his head, and you could just barely see pale blue locks of disheveled hair sticking out. The smell had to be coming from him. Something about him... it made you feel really, really uncomfortable.  

“Yuck,” you shuddered. “Definitely won’t ever be drinking any of his blood.”  

Thankfully, the smell dissipated the further the guy walked away from you. And a few moments later, it was soon to be replaced by a pleasant smell, paired with a chipper voice that you recognized.  

“[Name]!” Kaminari greeted, grinning ear-to-ear. “Hey! Did you just get here? I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”  

Your smile quickly returned. “Hi, Kaminari. Yep, I just got here a few seconds ago. You definitely didn’t make me wait. It’s nice to see you again! I invited Izuku to come with us as well, but he’s a bit shy. I’m hoping to convince him to come next time, though.”

“Next time?” Kaminari blinked. His eyes were big and hopeful. “There’s going to be a next time?”  

“Of course! You seem really nice. I’m a pretty good judge of character, so I can just tell.”  

Kaminari’s grin seemed to grow even bigger. His cheeks even flushed a bit.  

“Well, I’m really glad you think so,” he said. “You’re super nice too, [Name]. To be honest, most girls don’t really give me the time of day. I guess they think I come on too strong or something...? I’m not really sure. But that doesn’t even matter anymore because I’ve already scored some time with the cutest girl ever!”

You chuckled softly. He seemed to like doling out compliments quite often, not that you could say you really minded. Anyways, you were excited for this. Since coming to this world, you’d been stuck to Izuku’s side like glue because there were just way too many things you didn’t understand. Having the chance to spend time with someone new was a nice change of pace, every now and then.

“Oh, right!” you remembered, then proceeded to dig something out of your bag. “Kaminari, look! This is my cellphone!”  

You proudly held up the phone right in front of his face, practically buzzing with excitement. Kaminari definitely didn’t look as hyped about it as you were, but you supposed that was only normal, since it was hardly a novel concept to him.  

“Looks like a model from a few years back,” he remarked. “Is it okay? The software’s not too out of date or anything, right?”  

“Software?” you gaped stupidly. “Um... I don’t know... what that is.”  

“Haha. My bad. You’re still just getting used to finally having a phone of your own, aren’t you?”  

“Mhm! I’m not sure what you mean by out of date, but it works really well! Izuku showed me that I can even play games on it! Isn’t that so cool? I have this one game,” you mumbled, scrolling through your apps. “It’s called Floppy Bird and it’s really hard! My high score is three.”

Kaminari was biting back the urge to laugh. “F-Floppy Bird, huh? Yeah, that game’s pretty rough. I know a lot of people that used to get super angry when they played it. A high score of three, though... that’s impressive.”  

“It’s good?” you asked hopefully.  

“Um... sure. Let’s say that.”  

“You should try,” you said, passing your phone over to him. “It’s so hard trying to keep the bird from falling. I didn’t realize birds needed to put this much effort in to maintain their flying. I’m suddenly in awe of how persistent they are.”  

This time Kaminari fully laughed, but hastily clamped a palm over his mouth. “I-I don’t think a game is meant to be an accurate representation of how birds fly in the real world. They just wanted to make it challenging for their player base so that they would rage. Here. Watch this.”  

You did just that, eyes wide as you carefully observed how Kaminari played the game with what you could only describe as near-mastery. You’d really struggled to obtain your high score, but Kaminari blew past it in no time flat.  

“Twenty-five,” you marveled. “I didn’t even know it was possible to get that far...”  

“That’s not even anywhere close to my high score,” he proudly boasted, nose pointing towards the sky and everything. “It’s alright, though,” he said, giving you a gentle smile as he patted your shoulder. “You’ll get better the more you play. It took me a while to get good at this game back when I first started playing it. Maybe you’ll even beat my high score one day.”  

“What is your high score?”

“You ready for this?” Kaminari grinned, then paused for effect. “It’s... almost two hundred.”  

A violent gasp left your mouth. “You’re an expert! There's no way I’ll ever get that far!”  

“Hehe. I guess my excellence can be a little intimidating. You just have to believe in yourself. Never say never.”  

Kaminari had instantly gained a lot of respect in your eyes. Anyone who was that good at Floppy Bird was clearly a person of high value. Even Izuku, the sweetest guy in the world, had struggled to get a score of seven when he’d tried playing on your phone.  

“Anyways,” Kaminari waved off. “We can leave the Floppy Bird for another day. There’s a lot of cool places around here, so that’s why I picked it as our meet-up spot. We could go to an arcade nearby if you wanted to try out some more games. There’s also karaoke if that’s what you’re into.”  

“Let’s do both!” you enthused. “I want to try everything that’s fun.”  

“Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about! You know what’s up, [Name],” he grinned, sticking his thumb up in approval.  

You nodded happily. “I do know what’s up. It’s the sky.”  

“Um, that’s not really what I meant, but... whatever. I’ll have plenty of time to teach you different expressions. Oh! And memes too, of course.”  

You both decided to go to the arcade first, to try out the games Kaminari had mentioned. There really were so many different kinds that it was actually a bit overwhelming. The arcade was littered with these big machines that each displayed a different game on their screen. Kaminari explained that there were various genres of video games—shooting games, music-themed games, fighting games... honestly, the list went on and on.  

“What’s this one?” you asked, pointing to a game that looked quite unique when compared to the rest.

“Oh, that’s the DDR machine,” Kaminari said. “You basically just look at the screen and a bunch of different arrows will appear that you need to hit in time with the music. See that platform? You’re supposed to stand on it and tap your feet on the arrows when it’s the right time. If you’ve got good rhythm, you might enjoy it.”  

“So, it’s pretty much just dancing,” you clarified.  

“Yeah, kind of!”  

“Hm. I like dancing. Maybe I’ll be good at this one.”  

You’d been trained in various styles of dance back in your own world, as part of your royal education. Since this was something that you actually had experience in, you felt quite confident that you’d do well. 

Needless to say, you were dead wrong.  

“It’s going too fast!” you whined, frantically trying to step to the music in time. The arrows were whizzing by on the screen. You hadn’t expected for it to be set at such a high pace. Was doing this even humanly possible?  

“Whoops,” Kaminari chuckled. “The difficulty was set to max, and it’s a pretty hard song too. Let me just change the settings real quick. You can start in beginner mode.”  

Curses. Even at dancing, which you’d never considered a game before, it seemed like your abilities were subpar in this world.  

“I’m so bad at this,” you pouted, although you were relieved that once Kaminari had changed some settings around, the arrows were coming up on screen a lot slower. You could actually keep up with them now. Well, he did say this was beginner mode, after all.  

You spent a little while clearing the easy songs, and it helped you rebuild some of your confidence. Then, Kaminari suggested gradually cranking up the difficulty, to see what you could or couldn’t handle. Remembering your pathetic attempt at the start, you weren’t feeling too optimistic.  

But it turned out that you were learning a lot quicker than you even realized. Actually, this wasn’t proper dancing, now that you thought about it. It was just a test of your reflexes. And as a vampire, your reflexes and senses had always been sharp. The initial exposure to the highest difficulty of the game had spooked you a bit, but you were working your way up with surprising ease.  

I just need to keep my calm. Don’t think of it as dancing. Think of it as reacting at the perfect time.  

“Wow, [Name]! You’re doing so well!” Kaminari was now cheering you on, with a big smile on his face. You appreciated the support, and it did make you feel a bit better about yourself. You were starting to get used to this. Actually, this level of difficulty was starting to feel a little too easy.  

“Perfect score,” you mouthed, reading what it said on screen. You were also quite impressed with yourself for having read it without making any mistakes. Slowly but surely, you were coming to terms with this new world.  

Kaminari excitedly shook you by the shoulders. “You improved so quickly, it’s unreal! Expert difficulty was a little too much for a first try, I guess. But now that you’ve had some practice, it’s clear that you’re really good at this!”  

“I think I’m ready for expert mode now,” you nodded.

“That’s a pretty big jump,” he admitted. “I’m not good at DDR at all, so I wouldn’t have been able to do any of the more recent songs you just did. Are you sure you want to try expert again?”  

“Yeah. I want to challenge myself.”

“Cool! I can respect that. Good luck, [Name]. Do your best!”  

The game loaded into the first song you’d tried at the very beginning, in the exact same difficulty mode. You had a surprisingly serious expression for what was supposed to be nothing more than a light-hearted game. To some degree, you were testing yourself. Testing to see how competent you were, here, in a different world.  

You took in a deep breath to calm yourself, then waited for the song to begin. There were a few moments before the arrows actually began showing up, and you studied the screen with wide eyes, unwilling to miss a single beat.  

The song started, and you were once again thrown into a supersonic pace. Except this time, you didn’t allow yourself to get swept up into it. You remained aware of the position of your body on the DDR platform. You let every breath pass through you without wasting any energy. And with your trained, highly calculating eyes, you didn’t let a single arrow slip out from your field of vision.

It happened sometimes. There were moments when you entered a sort of trance, driven purely by instinct. Humans were also capable of such feats, but it was much more rare. The strongest of vampires were said to persist in these trances for hours or even days at a time, perfectly aware of their body and surroundings in time and space.

Before you even realized it, the song had ended, and you snapped back to reality.  

“Oh,” you said simply. “It’s... done?”

When you turned, Kaminari was gaping at you. It looked like a few other people in the arcade had formed a small crowd and had been watching you the whole time. They started applauding you out of nowhere, commending you for having done so well. 

“That’s the highest score anyone’s gotten on that song in expert difficultly!” one of them congratulated. “You should put your name down as the record-holder!”

“Name? Oh. I guess I could. I really did the best out of everyone?” you asked, wondering if this was some sort of joke. Based on your experience so far, you were incredibly awful at video games, so it sounded a bit hard to believe.  

“You did!” This time, it was Kaminari who’d cried out. His hands were balled up into fists, and he kept thrusting them into the air, making what you could only assume was a cheering motion. “You’re so cool, [Name]! A total newbie at DDR broke this arcade’s record just like that!” 

A wobbly smile rose to your lips. You had to admit, it did feel pretty good. This wasn’t cheating, was it? Sure, you were a vampire, but other people in this world also had all sorts of powers—Quirks—that could have given them an advantage when playing the game.

Yeah. You’d beat the record fair and square.  

“I guess I’m even more awesome than I realized,” you hummed, squaring your hands on your hips and reveling in the applause. At the risk of becoming conceited though, you decided that was enough DDR for one day. You tried out some of the other arcade games with Kaminari, and unsurprisingly sucked major ass at the rest of them.  

For now, DDR was the one game you were good at. You could live with that.  

After having fun at the arcade for a while, you also went to try that karaoke thing Kaminari had mentioned. As it turned out, karaoke referred to singing popular songs with some music in the background. Obviously, you didn’t know any songs from this world, so you just went along with what Kaminari picked and did your best to match him. Thankfully, the lyrics appeared on screen, so it was easy enough to follow along. Ignoring some of the grammatical mistakes you made while incorrectly reading a few words.

All in all, it was a lot of fun. There was so much more to do in this world than your old one. Damn. You liked it here a lot more than you’d been expecting. If you ever saw your parents again, you would make sure to brag about everything they’d missed out on.

“Today was great,” Kaminari sighed happily, stretching his arms over his head. “Did you have fun too, [Name]?”  

“I did!” you grinned. “Of course I did. I got to try so much new stuff. And I had the company of a cool guy like you!”  

“Cool guy,” he said breathlessly. He almost looked like wanted to cry happy tears. “Nobody’s ever called me that before. People sometimes say I’m a poser or that I try too hard to act a certain way. I’ve been accused of having a fake personality before, but... I can’t help it. This is just the kind of person I am.”  

You furrowed your brows. “Whoever said that was clearly talking out of their ass. You seem nothing but genuine to me. Don’t worry too much about it. Some people will always try to be mean for no reason. Maybe they’re just jealous.”  

The image of Katsuki came to mind. Yeah. People like him, who enjoyed hurting others unprompted, really were the absolute worst.  

Kaminari was smiling again, but it was less eager than the ones he’d shown you until now. This one seemed more subdued, but also more heartfelt. You supposed your words must have resonated with him.  

“Thanks, [Name],” he chuckled. “You’re really great. As long as you and my other friends like who I am, then there’s no reason to doubt myself. I don’t care if I get called cringe or whatever. I’ll just be myself!”  

You nodded in return, but were quickly forced to swallow. You’d spent several hours around Kaminari today, and his blood was starting to call to you. It smelled so nice and really stood out from the rest. You’d already gotten to taste Izuku’s, and it had been the most delicious thing you’d ever had. You couldn’t help but wonder what Kaminari’s was like. 

A little bite. I wish I could have just a little bite... 

Your expression quickly turned to disgust. God. What was wrong with you, having such horrible thoughts about your new friend? It didn’t matter how tempting it was, the whole point of your banishment was to fix your dangerous habits. You needed to remember not to give in to your desires, or more people could end up getting seriously hurt.  

“[Name]?” Kaminari frowned. “Everything okay? You suddenly look a bit upset. I didn’t say anything to annoy you, did I?”  

You hastily shook your head. “Not at all. Sorry. Um... I was just not feeling well for a second there. My... stomach hurt. But I'm okay now.”  

“Oh, okay. You might be hungry,” he suggested. “Want to grab a quick bite to eat before you leave? It’s gotten kind of late so I wouldn’t want to make you stay out too long.”  

“Yeah, we could grab some food. That’d be good.”  

Good for distracting me, too.

For the rest of your time together, you white-knuckled it and forced yourself to focus on anything but Kaminari’s fragrant blood. As much as you loved this new world you were getting to experience, one downside was that a lot of the humans here smelled way too good. It was challenging your self-control even more than you’d anticipated it would.  

Eventually, though, you were home safe and sound. You’d made it back without doing something you would inevitably regret. 

Izuku was there to greet you the second you stepped into the house. 

“How did it go?” he asked, green eyes big and curious. “You didn’t get hurt, did you? You have a tendency to get in fights, so I couldn’t help but worry...”  

“No fighting today,” you chuckled. “Well, actually, there was some fighting.”  

“What?!”

“Arcade fighting games, I mean.”  

“Jeez. Don’t do that me,” he sighed, shoulders immediately slumping with relief.  

“Hehe.”  

“You can’t just say hehe all the time and expect to get away with it! Well, I guess it’s fine. As long as you’re safe. That’s the most important thing,” he smiled. “Did you have fun with Kaminari? What sort of things did you guys do? I-If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”  

“We went to the arcade, then karaoke,” you recounted. “And we ate a little bit before heading home. It was a really fun day overall!”  

“Good. That’s good.”  

Izuku looked happy for you, but for some reason, there was also the slightest bit of sadness in his eyes. Did he regret not coming along as well? Or maybe... 

“I had a ton of fun,” you said again. “But I missed you the whole time, Izuku. So, I’m glad I’m home now. No matter who else I meet and become friends with, you’ll always be my favorite.”  

It only took a second for his freckled cheeks to turn bright red. “I-I’m your favorite?” he squeaked.  

“Of course you are,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him as proof of your honesty. “You saved me. If it wasn’t for you, I can’t even imagine what might have happened to me by now. I feel the most relaxed when I’m around you. It’s like... a safe, warm feeling. If that makes sense.”  

Izuku was as flustered as always whenever you hugged him, but this time, despite his embarrassment, he managed to lightly pat you on the back. It wasn’t quite the same as returning your hug, but you were confident he’d get there one day.  

“Thank you for saying that,” he mumbled shyly. He was avoiding your gaze, so you couldn’t see his expression. Although you had a pretty good idea of what it looked like.  

Your smile showed no signs of disappearing, and you had no intention of ending the hug anytime soon either.

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[mirisss]

SKZ reaction to their asexual gf's sleeping habit

SKZ reaction to their asexual gf sleeping in only a bra and pajama/sweatpants. 

Wordcount ≈ 700

Warnings: Slight doubt/anxiety, 

Thank you for the request! I feel like I didn’t write this one that well, but I hope you still enjoy it. 

Please reblog! 

Bang Chan 

The dude sleeps almost naked. He wouldn’t care. If his partner wants to sleep completely naked, go ahead, if his partner wants to sleep in winter-overalls, he might wonder how you don’t die of heatstroke but go ahead. No matter what his partner sleeps in, he would be okay with it, all he cares about is his partner being comfortable. So, if being comfortable for his asexual girlfriend means sleeping in a bra and sweatpants he would be happy and it isn’t sexual in the slightest, he might admire his partner's body but he will never do anything that would make his partner uncomfortable. 

Lee Know

At most, he’ll make a comment about your arms feeling cold if you sleep without a shirt. Other than that, like Chan. Minho just wants you to be comfortable, so once again, he couldn’t care less what you decide to sleep in. Sometimes, when he’s feeling mischievous, he’s gonna try to tickle you because you have “given him easy access”. Minho really just finds ways to tease you in his loving ways rather than anything sexual. 

Seo Changbin

More than anything, Changbin will want to compare his biceps to yours. “Come on, let’s see who’s got the best biceps” Followed by him flexing his muscles a ton while giggling. He does this, every night. He really just wants you to compliment his muscles. Another one who doesn’t care what you sleep in, he respects you being asexual and wouldn’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. While he thinks you look incredible and sexy, what he loves most about you are the moments you both just act like clowns together. 

Hwang Hyunjin

Drama king. Overdramatic. The first time the two of you were sleeping in the same room, was a fun experience. Hyunjin had just brushed his teeth and came out of the bathroom to find you sitting on the bed, phone in hand, grey sweatpants, and a black sports bra. “WAH! My eyes!” Hyunjin exclaimed loudly. First, you thought he was uncomfortable seeing you like this, thinking that maybe he would only like it if his partner wasn’t asexual. In reality, his reaction was just positive. “I didn’t know an angel would be here,” “You look really good like this, would you be comfortable modeling like this for me some time so I can draw it?” Yeah, he only saw the potential for the drawings he could make and how beautiful you looked. 

Han Jisung & Lee Felix

Personally, I think they would have very similar reactions. “Are you sure you won’t be cold? Would it be more comfortable for you to borrow one of my t-shirts instead of your bra? Would it be more comfortable without the bra? If so, I promise not to touch or even look? I just want you to be comfortable. Can I still hug you? Cuddle?” They would be mostly worried about your comfort and whether or not they could still cuddle you. 

Kim Seungmin

“Where did you buy those pants? Do you know if they’d have similar once that would fit me? They look comfortable,” Seungmin’s largest concern would be you not getting too cold so that you become sick. If you wanted to sleep in a bra and sweatpants, be his guest just make sure you don’t fall sick. He’ll want those sweatpants though, they look warm and nice. Good for winter, he’d think. 

Yang Jeongin

He would raid your closet, looking at different sweat- & pajama- pants and different bras. “Hmm, this bra goes well with these three pants, while this one goes best with these pants,” He was making sure even your sleep outfit was fashionable. Once he first found out that you liked sleeping in a bra and sweatpants, you were wearing a brown bra and grey sweatpants which, according to Jeongin, wasn’t a good match, hence, why he was going through all your clothes letting you know which bra to pair with which pair of pants. Not a single sexual thought passed his brain, nope it’s all fashion in there.

[mlqueen89]

... This Thing Tuesday

finally finished chapter four of my jake seresin x ofc fic.

beta reader is getting that one read through! so, in the meantime, while i write entirely too much of this fic without having an ending fully figured out... here you go (a few days late - srry). definitely inspired by glen's appearance at the fashion awards in london in december and adam brody/leighton meester at the golden globes. if anyone is curious about aimee's dress inspo - look no further than rachel mcadams' dress at the 2016 oscars.

i can do it with a broken heart - glen powell x ofc (wip)

The car ride to the event was relatively short from Glen’s rented place, full of an easy back and forth banter about how Aimee felt like Rachel Leigh Cook in She’s All That and other choice 90s classics, but Aimee’s nerves were still frayed at best.  

As they neared the event and she sat beside Glen, hands clasped in her lap, her mind whirled as their handler rattled off instructions about where to walk, when to stop, and how long to hold a pose. Monica, Glen’s agent, mentioned a few entertainment channels he might want to stop at and say a few words about Beneath the Surface, since Aimee was with him.  

It was all a well-rehearsed machine—one she had absolutely no experience navigating. Meaning, it was all going over her head.  

No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the handler’s instructions, Aimee couldn’t stop her eyes from glazing over. Her thoughts a sudden jumble of if she’d given Allie the stuffed animal Noah needed for bed, or if she had sent her agent, Nicole, the outline for the next novel, or if the stove had been turned off before she—  

“Aimee?” Glen asked, glancing at her as their car pulled closer to the venue, his voice drawing Aimee back to the present. “You okay?” 

Aimee blew out a breath that was more laugh than anything. “Yeah. Fine. Just, you know, trying not to spontaneously combust.” 

Glen smirked. “Try to hold off until after the photos.”   

Aimee groaned, tilting her head back against the seat as Glen’s agent went back to her phone, tapping out a message, the bright blue light lighting up her face. “I think you’re going to realize pretty quickly that this is a terrible idea. Writers are notoriously racoon-esque. We avoid bright lights and unnecessary attention, love pizza crusts, though.” 

“Nah,” Glen said, voice warm with amusement. “It’s a great idea. Besides, some racoons come out in the day. What about that Toronto racoon, the one with the—” Glen snapped his fingers, trying to summon the memory.  

“—rabies? That racoon had rabies, Glen.” Aimee barely held back a laugh; she knew what he was trying to do, and it was working. 

“Yeah. That’s the one!” 

Aimee rolled her eyes, but before she could argue her point further, the car came to a stop. Outside the door on Glen’s side, a blur of flashing lights lit up the inside of the car despite the tint of the windows, the muffled noise of the crowd and photographers already pressing in. 

“Ready?” Glen asked, his hand pausing on the door handle as he turned back to her.  

“Nope.” Aimee popped the ‘p’ like it offended her personally and grasped the small clutch in her lap like it was her buoy in a dark and endless sea. “Not even a little bit.”  

“Perfect.” He grinned, opening the door and stepping out before turning back to offer her his hand. 

There were moments when Aimee found herself observing her life from a distance, an outside voyeur taking notes. She once described it to Allie as an almost out of body experience, where she felt removed, seeing her own actions as if on a delayed loop, the miser Ebenezer Scrooge on tour with the Three Ghosts. It made her a stronger writer, someone able to keenly witness from an outside position.

Now, sitting on the soft leather back seat of the town car, staring up at Glen, his broad shoulders, outlined by the flash of cameras, taking in the way he looked at her, like she was someone worth holding doors for, or being helped out of cars, she felt herself slipping into one of those moments. 

Aimee reached up and took his hand, the heat of his palm against her cool skin grounding her, a small reassurance, as she emerged into the chaos. Stepping out of the car, immediately voices started calling out from every direction, some directed at them, others distant. Cameras flashed in a relentless barrage down the carpet, the red runway feeling more like a path of doomed procession instead of a lead into an awards ceremony venue.  

Glen gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze before letting go once he was sure she was steady, his fingers dragging across her palm. Aimee was thankful that, if he noticed the way her skin raised in goosebumps, he didn’t say anything.  

“Alright,” he said, lowering his voice so only she could hear as he stood in front of her, an assistant she didn’t recognize adjusting her dress as Glen buttoned the jacket of his tux. “This is where they tell us what to do, and we pretend like we have no idea.”  

Aimee exhaled a laugh, trying not to look too dazed, but her eyes were already flicking over the crowd, analyzing. Maybe Allie was wrong when they’d picked out this dress, maybe she would need to run after all, and this material was entirely the wrong one for running. Simultaneously, Aimee felt out of place, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi, stuck in a glitched mode between fight and flight.   

“You’re walking after Lily Collins.” The assistant tapped Aimee’s shoulder and motioned to Glen to step in beside her. 

It took Aimee a second to bring herself back to the moment, and when she did, Glen had slid in beside her. Even in her heels, he was at least a head taller than her. How was this her life? It all suddenly felt like a dream she teetered on the edge of waking up from at any moment, the shrill sound of her phone alarm breaking her out of sleep, leaving her wishing for sleep again to chase the feelings she felt now. 

Glen leaned in slightly. “Is it okay if I put my hand on your waist?”  

Aimee arched a brow at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We are supposed to be dating,” Aimee carefully avoided the word girlfriend or any indication of that being what she was to him. “Might be weird if you didn’t.”  

Glen smirked down at her, adjusting his cufflinks, but he didn’t move until she added, softer this time, a nod dipping her chin just once. “Yeah. It’s okay.”  

His broad hand found its place on her waist, then, without further hesitation, his palm warm against the bare skin where the dress dipped low. The silky green material was just a breadth away from revealing too much, cascading gracefully around her figure. Aimee swallowed hard.  

With one last swish of her dress, an assistant threw up two thumbs up and they started walking, the handlers, stationed strategically to keep the traffic flowing, motioned them forward. Then, abruptly, Aimee stopped.  

Glen immediately did the same, turning to her, and throwing a one-minute gesture at an exasperated handler who looked as if she was questioning her life choices. “You okay?”  

She hesitated, second-guessing herself before she spoke. Well, better to sound stupid now than to look stupid later. “What happens if I fall?”  

Glen huffed a small laugh, his green eyes twinkling with something akin to mischief. “You won’t.”   

Aimee bit back a laugh but resisted the urge to tell him about the time she tried clubbing with Allie and had snapped the heel off a particularly expensive pair of shoes she’d borrowed from her Pilates instructor friend while stepping off a curb. Or about the time she nearly died tumbling down a set of stairs at her brother’s wedding even though his firefighter co-workers (in attendance) had told her she would survive, albeit with less ego intact. Aimee's track record with heels was less than stellar. 

Glen, a relative newbie to all things Aimee, had entirely too much faith in her ability to hold it together in the green Jimmy Choos that cost more than her monthly mortgage payments, while blinded by camera flashes, and contending with a high thigh split that could, at any moment, with the wrong step, reveal she wasn’t wearing underwear.  

This was a gauntlet that threatened to not only drag her into the abyss if she failed, but also Glen. Sweet, gentlemanly Glen who made her insides do strange things. She was a writer. If she fell on the red carpet, legs akimbo, birthday suit bared for all to see, she could hibernate for the rest of eternity and never leave the house again on pain of embarrassment. Glen on the other hand... linking himself to Aimee, even if only for a fake-dating scenario, was doomed, and he didn’t even know it.  

“You don’t know that. These shoes are a hazard.”   

Glen tilted his head, like he was considering her words for the briefest of moments and Aimee caught the way his eyes traveled down her leg to study the offending green shoes before they flicked back up to hers and held them. “Fair. But if you do fall, I’ll catch you. Trust me.”   

Something about the certainty in his voice, calm and steady, made her chest tighten, made her insides do the strange things. God dammit. He had to know, know that there was this undeniable something between them, or at least between her and the idea of him and he was just fucking with her now.  

“…Okay,” she murmured. She trusted him, somehow, inexplicably, she trusted Glen Powell to catch her if she fell. If she’d told herself she’d be in this situation even a few months ago, she would have called herself delusional, would have scheduled at least several months’ worth of therapy appointments to talk it through. She would have told Allie over their “Wine Wednesday” hangouts that she was officially broken mentally by the divorce. Allie would have insisted that she was delulu, but maybe delulu was the selulu. 

As if he were acting on muscle memory, Glen reached out, his hand grasping hers, fingers twining easily as if his hand was always meant to be in hers. And then they were moving again, stepping onto the beginning of the red carpet, just behind a woman in a silver dress with a beaded train that swished in a shushing sound as she moved.   

The cameras exploded in a frenzy, a cacophony of voices yelling for their attention. Aimee felt as if she were a gladiator, entering an arena. They stopped, pausing to pose as the lights flashed around them, bright, unrelenting.

“Aimee! Glen! Look here!” 

“Can you turn this way?” 

“Glen, put your arm around her—pull her closer!” 

Aimee tensed, overwhelmed, but suddenly, Glen’s voice was in her ear, tone laced with amusement as he murmured under his breath, eyes never straying from the crowd ahead. “Bald guy, two o’clock.”  

Aimee blinked momentarily, confused. “What?”  

“Photographer. Bald guy. Two o’clock.” He tilted his head ever so slightly before he smiled widely, perfectly for the cameras.  

She followed his lead, shifting subtly toward the indicated camera as his hand found her waist, tugging her gently to his side, fitting her perfectly against him as she leaned into one of the poses Monica had suggested before they’d left Glen’s place.   

“Now lady in red, straight ahead,” Glen continued, guiding her with ease.  

Aimee bit her lip to keep from laughing her usual too loud laugh. This was ridiculous. But somehow, it helped. 

“See? You’re a natural.” Glen chuckled and the sound distracted her from the yelling momentarily, instead choosing to focus on the deep tone of his voice close to her side. “Uh—Penguin guy, over by the lion statue.” 

And then she felt it. The slow, absent brush of Glen’s thumb against the bare skin at her low back. 

It wasn’t intentional—at least, she didn’t think it was. But the light, absent-minded stroke sent warmth flooding through her, setting every nerve ending on high alert. 

She might float away, a balloon untethered from a toddler’s wrist at a fairground. Up, up and away, unreachable, never to come down. 

Glen’s grip was steady, effortless, anchoring her in the sea of chaos, like he’d done this a million times. Like this was easy. 

Aimee, on the other hand? She was barely holding it together, a warmth coiling low in her abdomen, hyper aware of every part of Glen that was touching her very bare lower back. 

They weren’t even inside yet, the night hadn't even truly begun. How she’d survive the hard launch of her “relationship” with him was beyond her.

i can do it with a broken heart - glen powell x ofc

a/n: here's some of that fake dating trope i teased last time. i'm realizing how much i love writing this. so excited to get this one out there. as always, lemme know if you want to be tagged!

tags for this wip: @readingislife @marrianena @dizzybee03 @lunatygerqueen @mrsevans90

@avengersfan25 @obsessed-fan-alert @khouse712 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96

@writergirl28 @tgmreader @qutequeersstuff @cardi-bre91 @queenslandlover-93

@stoneyggirl2

[girlbossagenda]

How to get better grades in school?

HOW TO GET BETTER GRADES IN SCHOOL

Hi gourgeous!!This is a very relatable question. I will be honest winter it's really the worst season for grades, i mean theres: the winter blues, procrastionation, busy schedule, lack of motivation...which can really have a very dentrimental effect on your grades, so based on my experience this is how to get better grades in school!!

୨୧SET MORE SPECIFIC GOALS୨୧

This will give you a boost of motivation, writing down the exact pages that you have to do can be really helpful, especially if you feel lazy, example:

read history today->read 10 pages of history->read and highlight 10 pages of history

୨୧STUDY TO GET THE MAX NOT THE MINIMUM୨୧

There's a theory that says, that you get half a grade less than what you might have planned, so just got for the max or at leat more than the sufficience.

୨୧MAKE A PLAN୨୧

I linked in the title my brand new guide to how to plan better and eventually stop procrastinating!, having your study sessions well scheduled can be of a great help, indeed it help me, especially to avoid lowering my grade in case of a very busy month.

୨୧DON'T ACCESS YOUR PHONE୨୧

Don't access your phone or social media while studying, if you can't help it, they go on Pinterest and make sure to only see productive pics and content, you can also watch a study with me video in the meanwhile, I don't suggest study vlogs as they can be quite distracting. I recommend though to just put your phone in another room or in a no visible placement.

୨୧STUDY GROUP୨୧

For subjects that are not your strength try to join or make a study group with your friends! You can also just go on face time or in a call with them, a little bit of company cannot hurt!

୨୧PERSONALIZE YOUR NOTES୨୧

I love when my notes are girly, pink and full of coquette symbolsz choose the aesthetic you want and add them to your notes( paper and digital), it's just easier to remember, also add some drawings.

Sorry for how late I am, stay in tune cause in the future I'll post some study technique! I hope I helped! xoxo gourgeous!

-𝓐

[liminalwings]

Working With Dragons: What My Practice Looks Like

When I'm not being worked to death (or at least extreme exhaustion), I do like to poke and prod at my spiritual life. It changes and evolves naturally over time, but I figured I'd do my best to share what my draconic work generally looks like.

Firstly, my interactions with dragons tend to be mostly telepathic: it might be conversations I have mentally and have to note down, or random images that I later doodle out. I also sometimes just sense a presence that some part of my intuition says “yeah that's a dragon”, which I then greet. Sometimes I get dragony ‘signs/synchronicities’, usually these reinforce a previous conversation I had with a dragon within the week. Of course, not all of this is taken at face value on my part. Not that I'm doubting my experiences, but it's good to practice discernment of “is this an actual dragon experience, or is this just coincidence/something that should be normal or expected in this particular situation?” That's why I tend to keep notes when I can: I used to use spiral notebooks for this when I was younger, now I usually use a word app on my phone, though I still need paper and pencil for drawing, a little harder to keep at hand (I do not have a fancy enough phone for decent stylus drawings).

Next, the dragons I interact with tend to vary a bit. Many I would describe as ‘spiritual locals’, they sometimes pop in out of curiosity, and one or two might become regular visitors. These are residents of the area I'm living in, and it's generally polite to at some point introduce yourself to them. I usually just do a little outside ceremony where I mentally open up and broadcast out a little “hi, I live here now, I don't mean any harm and don't mind anyone friendly or curious dropping by. Here's an offering,” which is usually some charged water, some other ecologically-friendly offering, or a gemstone left at a place I plan to use as a working space. It doesn't *have* to be outside, I can also just do it at whatever working space I have set up inside, I just *like* doing my introductions outside whenever possible. (At the moment, I uh, don't really have any altars set up because I don't have any real surface space. Rip.)

The other dragons I usually work with are what some might call dragons from the ‘astral’: they're not local spirits, they pop in from other places not from Earth. These usually have some sort of connection to me, as either guides or because of past life shenanigans.

Neither of these groups really fall into mythological categories, which is why I don't tend to give or follow lists of types of dragons that are based on such. They might share physical traits ie: body styles, and it's useful to refer to for such descriptions, but past that, there are very few similarities with the dragons I work with. Same with types given in modern dragon magic books: not all dragons I work with are elemental or are typical of what most practitioners are familiar with.

I don't worship any dragons, for two reasons: most of the dragons I interact with are more peers, teachers, and friends than anything, and also I have a “no thank you” relationship towards worshiping anything.

Next, while I no longer follow Wicca, I do try to keep some sort of annual/seasonal observances a la WotY: I note the equinoxes and solstices, full moons, and Halloween. I don't really *do* much with them these days, unfortunately, but I do feel better and more spiritually connected by actively partaking in seasonal changes when I can. One of the biggest ways is harvesting/foraging. What does this have to do with dragons? Not a lot, but I do use things that I grow in my witchcraft, and some of the dragons like a nice witchy garden, and more than that, an example of being able to follow through and maintain something. It does feel like when I'm able to ‘be witchy’, it also strengthens my connection with dragons in some way, and just helps improve subtle senses in general.

I generally don't do circle castings, and don't really work with elements in spells unless I feel like it's something that's necessary in that case. If I do feel I need a protected space, I'll set a boundary/shield with my own energy and sometimes ask a dragon to help keep unwanted stuff out. I don't really have a set elemental system, but when I do use them, I admit I default to earth/air/fire/water(/spirit). Sometimes I contemplate including metal as an element for reasons, but I've not finished sorting my thoughts on that yet.

What does it look like when I actually work with dragons? Well, generally, I get to know them, find out what they are willing to help with, and call on them for help with what they've agreed to help with. But my interactions do tend to be more just communication than any actual workings. What they have helped with in the past is varied, but is usually things like protection, courage, luck, and lending energy to boost my own spellwork. And occasionally they just bring me comfort and support.

For my personal path, there's no real taboos, restrictions, or things I'm not allowed to do per se. It pretty much boils down to “don't treat those helping you like garbage” and “be kind to strangers”, and basically try to be a decent person. That doesn't mean, however, that I'm to be a doormat, it just means that I shouldn't be unnecessarily cruel to those who haven't been cruel to me (or my loved ones). If someone's being a dick and I don't like it, well, dragons have fangs and claws for a reason.

The dragons in my life aren't here to judge my moral character or be any sort of cosmic council, they're just here for their own reasons, like the rest of us, even if that reason is simply "I'm here because I'm here."

As always, this is just my experience and UPG. It's nothing glamorous or super special, but it's what I've kept coming back to all my life. In my teens and twenties, when I was struggling to find my identity, doing some serious questioning and putting a lot of my spiritual life on hiatus for some periods, dragons were always there when I was ready to come back, sometimes even getting poked as a reminder when I didn't think I was ready to come back to it, but found that the timing was perfect.

[aizawashuichi]

Let's go with 14, 15, 17, 44 for the ask game ;)

hiii, thanks so much for asking <3333

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

most of my emotional scenes (for now) are internal, since i write in first person and i think the internal world of a character is the most tragic place where to make things happen because they hit on a different level.

so, in dfd, taking as example the scene in which Dee spirals about being unstable,

1. i choose what emotion that character should feel throughout the whole scene. in this case, fear - fear of being seen as unstable, useless, inadequate, fear that therapy is not working or that she will be "found out" because if it happens, then she will not be considered fit for her job, and so on. so generally, a fear that is based on reality but it seems irrational, because there is no indication that they know what she has.

then 2. it's choosing a trigger:

I look up in Matsuda's direction, realizing that he is watching me. As soon as our eyes meet, he returns his attention to L. I frown and he gives me another quick look, adjusting himself better on the couch.

this brief exchange looks meaningless but it's important, because being looked at = being observed and anything she does can be scrutinised. and so the annoyance she already felt gets exacerbated, and her behaviour becomes hard to control. she also dissociates a little, and only when she gets up because she hears Watari enter the flat and sees L with his phone in his hand, she realises it.

so 3. now the underlying fear she had comes to the foreground, because something happened that might have made it clear what she is hiding. so she spirals.

They're going to think I'm unstable, that I don't know how to do my job, that I can't do it... That I'm useless. Is that why L keeps changing his mind about me? He figured it out, didn't he? And he made up the excuse that I might be sad about that, so he wouldn't tell me openly, so I wouldn't snap, but I'm not like that. I'm not unstable. I'm fine. I'm better! I'm going to therapy. That means I know I need it. I am doing something to get better. I am not unaware of how I feel and what I need. I am not lying to myself. Wise-Woman tells me that I am good at recognizing my limits, that I can handle them. I know how to do it. I'm not a problem... So why didn't he call when he bought Pars? When did I become a burden to him? Am I destined to become one for everyone around me?

usually, when i write these parts they tend to be long strings of thoughts that i do not bother to correct immediately. i just put out everything that comes to me, because i do feel what the charatcers feel so i am writing "in the heat of the moment" and let myself go on long rants, which get then trimmed and adjusted to be readable.

i think this only works when writing in 1st person, because you're in somebody's head and how i think my thoughts, they also have moments where their thoughts don't have to follow some writing rules.

anyway, in dfd, the emotional scenes I have follow this structure. even the one in chapter 5 on the rooftop, Jessica feels sad because of L going to the kitchen without saying a word, and that sadness is present throughout the whole scene and explodes once she sits down and sees that L hasn't replied.

generally, though, they change based on the character I am writing.

in mazzaroth, Ethe doesn't follow this. it's more "this thing happens -> she is about to feel sad -> it turns into anger toward everybody -> she tries to find a logical explanation to calm herself down" like sad about not being included -> angry at the aliases -> "L is trying to get to me". sad about Watari choosing L over her -> angry towards both of them -> "Watari is old and forgets stuff and is also an adult and they suck, and L is an asshole, of course he's trying to put me against Watari". sad about what happened at her house, especially to Aethel -> angry at herself and her parents -> "it had to be done". so there is never a true escalation to an emotional scenes. it almost gets there and then Ethe self-redirects herself.

so yeah, I guess, it depends on how the character is, because even the build up to an emotional scene or how it is reflects how they deal with emotions or difficult situations, so it's an important part of their characterization.

anyway, yes. i do feel what my characters, while I am writing, so i can reflect their emotions the best. I did almost make myself feel the physical sensations of a panic attack just for Ethe lmao.

about personal experiences, yes and no. i do feel the emotions i write about with the same intensity, but maybe not because of the same event. the only thing i can say i somewhat wrote from experience is Jessica feeling inadequate in the bathroom with another woman, cuz as a kid, i barely had any female friends and i would see all the girls around me go to the bathroom together and I would just wonder, "why do they do that, what is going on..." and this made me feel very disconnected from them, like I'm missing out on something. when I started to have female friends and they would ask me to accompany them to the bathroom, I would be very confused. I think it's also a thing that happens mostly as a teen or in specific situations, like clubs, but yeah.

other than that, those emotions? felt. those experiences? probably not.

I wonder even if I answered the question and if it's coherent cuz I'm on the phone lmfao

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

I don't write smut scenes. haven't written one yet lol but I plan to write some in mazzaroth third part, since as you know there is sexual abuse. I want to make a before and after [redacted because of spoilers] comparison, so consensual sex with her girlfriend, mostly initiated by ethe vs rape ethe ends up being subjected to. I guess for the before, there is going to be a focus on the physical contact/act, because she is there, present and willing, but the after is going to be centered about feelings and sensations because of the acts. pre, during and post. especially because of her altered state of mind. overall, realism is extremely important in this case, so I'll do my best.

the question definitely wasn't meant to be answered with this aksjdjf. google tells me smut is explicit sex and doesn't mean that it has to be consensual so I think I am good.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

I've stopped having writer's block when I started to make myself put down a few words every day, no matter how meaningless and nonsensical they were. writing drafts of conversations even if they never make it into the final cut helps a lot. my personal whatsapp chat is just that. random phrases that i end up completely discarding, but they set the scene and mood and make me think about my story more, which then leads to more ideas.

fortunately, I'm the opposite of someone who lacks inspiration because I work with OCs and I'm never limited by anything, except my own very flexible rules.

whenever I don't have the energy to write, though, I just allow myself to not have the energy to write, instead of beating myself up for being tired. sometimes I am, while having ideas and motivation, but forcing myself to write only makes everything worse, because I am postponing some well deserved rest and I'll probably get burned out.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

I don't have a beta because I would be a terrible alpha (<- definitely not the right term lmfao), but my biggest mistakes are 1. assuming Italian words or phrases mean the same thing in English (recent example is the world "pronounce". apparently it doesn't mean also "say" in a general way as "pronunciare" does). 2. writing things with the intention to later check if they are correct but forgetting to do so, because I'm convinced my past self checked it already (she did not). 3. writing very convoluted sentences or paragraphs and when I go back to edit them, I don't know what the hell I meant (literally the cillian murphy reading meme) and have to start over.

[ask game]