#for some reason I can't tag properly RIP

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: How they like to play with you

Warnings: MDNI! R18+ only, very explicit, female mc, Self-insert. Some of this might not be to your taste. Be warned.

tags: #nsfweds (Not safe for wednesdays)

Sylus' Play:

Handcuff/ rope play: It doesn't matter which one, but Sylus' more turned on if he's receiving it. He knows he can get himself unbound in the blink of an eye, but he likes seeing you take charge. Adds more to it when he's unaware that you're tying him up; He gets pleasantly surprised upon waking up after a nap and seeing that he can't move away from the bed frame. But we both know he's more than capable of escaping.

Blindfolds: Adding more to the thrill is when he can't see anything. This will heighten his sense of hearing, and his touch, matched with the handcuff, he'll be popping a boner quicker than he can make you come.

Manhandling: He knows how rough he can go and thankfully knows how to control it; after moving on with the handcuff and blindfold play, you'll be at his mercy from now on. Needless to say, you'll be bruised up and sore when you wake up the next day.

Zayne's Play:

Lingerie: Something about you anticipating what's going to happen always turns him on. Wearing any color or lingerie underneath your outfit, you always turn him on— even more so when you let him take a peek. It doesn't matter what outfit you wear: as long as you're wearing a lingerie underneath, he takes it as a sign that you'll both be having a long and fun night.

Stockings: It was rare for you to wear it out of formal events, so when you visit him wearing formal attire and stickings, you best bet that it will never see the light of day. It will be stripped off of you; if not, it'll be torn apart. It's sexy seeing a thin mesh of cloth hugs your supple, meaty thighs. He loses all reason when he's in between your legs, pounding you senseless while grazing his fingertips on that ripped, thin fabric.

Size difference: When he has the chance to look at you properly, he likes to take it slow, but rough. He likes it when he sees his large dick making a bulge on your stomach. He likes touching the bump, pointing to you about it before making you come quickly— but he doesn't stop. One orgasm after the other, he keeps pounding and pounding until you beg him to stop. He will eventually slow down, but that doesn't mean he'll stop.

Xavier's Play:

Consensual Somnophilia: It doesn't matter 'when' in particular, but every time you wake up, he's always in between your legs, greeting your pussy a good morning and hearing you respond with a moan. He likes it when he sees you groggy, only to process that you're in the middle of doing it with him. He likes it when he sees you on the bed, looking cute and comfy before unraveling to become a moaning and helpless mess.

Spontaneous quickies around the house: You don't know what turns him on, but you've done it practically everywhere with him. You would be cooking dinner, and he'd press his bulge against you, and the next thing you know, you're gripping onto the counter for dear life. Folding clothes on the sofa? You're on his lap, being denied an orgasm because you teased him a minute ago. In the bathroom? You'll be having mirror sex because 'who was it that invited him'?.

Begging: He is gentle with his words with you, often singing praises in your names, but if there is a downside to this— he is absolutely relentless. He begs you to keep going, and even after saying enough, he'll keep begging and distracting you until he eventually gets his way. "Please? One more? This is the last time, I promise. I'll be good, Yes?" His never-ending stamina makes you pass out; if not, you're making a mess of the floor or the bed by squirting a lot.

Rafayel's Play:

Teasing: He likes it when you get his hopes up. He likes the slow yet unfathomable shift of his calm self to the more intoxicated version of himself. For you, riling him up is absolutely fucking adorable— Seeing that flush in his ears and the barely visible hitch of his breath. No matter what he says or whispers to you, in the end, he'll almost always give in to his frustrations and fucks you against any surface. Thanks to this, he's slowly thinking that he's developed something for having public sex.

Taking pictures and videos: He does it with your consent and keeps it in the most secure corners of his phone. There was something about those amateur clips taken in your dark bedroom that made for a fascinating resource. He keeps it all to himself and uses it as his side dish for some of his solo times. Still, he likes seeing your body in mid-act, at its peak, or hearing your cries late at night through the video. He knows he gets too caught up in the moment, but being the artist that he is, he's the type to want to look back and admire the more…finer details.

Voyeurism: He's an artist— and a part of being an artist is the observation of natural phenomena, and a natural phenomenon may count as life and death or a human seeking pleasure. To him, watching you relieve yourself while oblivious to his gaze will more than likely turn him on. You being naughty and him being patient and resisting always gave him the impression that he had the upper hand with you. You, being utterly vulnerable under his gaze, have his inside churning like a hungry wolf, igniting his desires like a pyro maniac.

Author footnotes: Zayne denies and says he likes things vanilla and Xavier just goes silent when you ask.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[sekhithefops]

How to Kill Microsoft's AI "Helper" Copilot WITHOUT Screwing With Your Registry!

Hey guys, so as I'm sure a lot of us are aware, Microsoft pulled some dickery recently and forced some Abominable Intelligence onto our devices in the form of its "helper" program, Copilot. Something none of us wanted or asked for but Microsoft is gonna do anyways because I'm pretty sure someone there gets off on this.

Unfortunately, Microsoft offered no ways to opt out of the little bastard or turn it off (unless you're in the EU where EU Privacy Laws force them to do so.) For those of us in the United Corporations of America, we're stuck... or are we?

Today while perusing Bluesky, one of the many Twitter-likes that appeared after Musk began burning Twitter to the ground so he could dance in the ashes, I came across this post from a gentleman called Nash:

Intrigued, I decided to give this a go, and lo and behold it worked exactly as described!

We can't remove Copilot, Microsoft made sure that was riveted and soldered into place... but we can cripple it!

Simply put, Microsoft Edge. Normally Windows will prevent you from uninstalling Edge using the Add/Remove Programs function saying that it needs Edge to operate properly (it doesn't, its lying) but Geek Uninstaller overrules that and rips the sucker out regardless of what it says!

I uninstalled Edge using it, rebooted my PC, and lo and behold Copilot was sitting in the corner with blank eyes and drool running down it's cheeks, still there but dead to the world!

Now do bear in mind this will have a little knock on effect. Widgets also rely on Edge, so those will stop functioning as well.

Before:

After:

But I can still check the news and weather using an internet browser so its a small price to pay to be rid of Microsoft's spyware-masquerading-as-a-helper Copilot.

But yes, this is the link for Geek Uninstaller:

Run it, select "Force Uninstall" For anything that says "Edge," reboot your PC, and enjoy having a copy of Windows without Microsoft's intrusive trash! :D

UPDATE: I saw this on someone's tags and I felt I should say this as I work remotely too. If you have a computer you use for work, absolutely 100% make sure you consult with your management and/or your IT team BEFORE you do this. If they say don't do it, there's likely a reason.

[elvisqueso]

"Our warriors fought with courage, but none as bravely as Kocoum."

Pocahontas (1995)

long, rambling meta under the cut:

you know i've taken some light dips into the tags looking for content on kocoum and i never see anyone going into depth about him as a character. sure you see the posts that are all "omg he was so hot pocahontas should have picked him instead :p" but that has little to do with his character or his place in the narrative or anything. in fact, it's a further objectification of a guy who is already dehumanized in-narrative, which is so very sad to me. kocoum is a lot more than his looks, which is why they're the first thing about him you're meant to notice. he's handsome, and he doesn't smile. he's a warrior and a stoic kinda guy. but that's all surface-level stuff. he's a very complex person with an intense internal turmoil that circumstances aren't allowing him to deal with properly.

like, you really can't come to an understanding about his character and go on to say "and he should have been with pocahontas" bc the fundamental aspect of their relationship as characters is that they would have been terrible for each other. you could feasibly make an argument that, on some level, kocoum would have been good for pocahontas (the "handsome, sturdy husband" who could ground her), but there is no way in any universe that pocahontas would have been good for him, bc the one who actually needed and wanted a steady, reliable partner is kocoum and pocahontas is the opposite of that (which is one of the reasons she and john smith kind of deserved each other but that's a whole other post).

see, kocoum is like a hemingway protagonist. remember, at the start of the movie, everyone is returning from war; it's important to note how much emphasis the movie places on family as a representation of "the ordinary world." the same is done with the virginia company members at the top of the film. there, they say goodbye to their normal lives and start an adventure. here, the powhatan warriors are returning to theirs. but who does kocoum, the celebrated warrior, have to return to?

kocoum doesn't have a normal life yet. he still belongs to the battle. there's a lot to be said about PTSD as a character motif in this film: it affects a lot of the major characters in different ways. for kocoum, it means he's not allowed to depart from his wartime mindset until and unless he can start a family of his own, and for that he pins his hopes on pocahontas. why exactly he likes her goes unsaid; it's implied they aren't particularly close, but may be familiar with each other. pocahontas being the chief's daughter may be an element, but it may also be that he's harbored an admiration for her from afar for some time. whatever the reason, kocoum has a misplaced idea that being with pocahontas will bring him peace. like a hemingway protagonist, he's taken up with the notion that being with a woman, an angel, will fix him; but the woman he wants is neither interested in doing so nor able to do so, whether or not she cares for him.

and this is why his outburst of emotion when he finds pocahontas and john in the glade is so understandable. he's watching his hopes for the future being ripped apart before his eyes. he'll never get peace, and that breaks him and then kills him.

and when i say he's dehumanized, i'm talking about the way characters talk about him and then how he dies. he's fierce, like a bear. he's handsome, but doesn't smile. he's a tool, an obstacle, and ultimately fodder for both pocahontas's and thomas's character development (mostly thomas's). there's something to be said about how both kocoum and his foil john smith are objectified so differently. where john is the subject of pocahontas's female gaze, kocoum is also objectified through a masculine one (the tension-filled lens that marries fear and admiration for athletic, warrior men and rivals). and then, again, he gets 'fridged for plot reasons because he's also the paris to pocahontas's juliet.

basically what i'm saying is kocoum really needed someone to take care of him, and no one did nor could. and that's why he's so tragic and tbh deserves better treatment by the fans, too.

[lizzieisright]

AUUH okay I know it’s tuff and all for the writing so I wouldn’t expect this to be done automatically it’s just whenever you get the chance😭🙏 bratty omega Abby? i could just see her being a brat badly and reader puts her in her place

I've also got a req for the heat/rut sync and Abby's moodiness fits in perfectly. She is such a brat once she knows she can rile you up I love her.

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, heat/rut sync, rough sex, pregnancy scare, brat!Abby.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It's not common for heats and ruts to sync - so you two for some stupid reason don't check your tracking apps to see when you're due. 

You know Abby's heat is coming up because she is moody: she is grumpy and frustrated and gets irritated if you don't understand her puzzling demands. It doesn't upset you - you let her have her space and be as moody as she wants. 

For some reason, it only makes her more moody. Abby is frowning as she watches you fold your laundry.

“You're doing it wrong.” She complains and you chuckle. 

“Do you want to do it?”

“No, I want you to do it right. Slacks belong on a rack. You folded them and you'll look like an embarrassing fool when you put them on.”

You chuckle, but it's not a good chuckle: you can't help but to feel challenged by your own omega. Abby starts to notice how your presence pressures her into submission, but she just gets more irritated with you. 

“Anything else?” You ask and the dangerous undertone of your voice gets Abby excited. 

“You don't iron your clothes. It's annoying.” 

“Huh.” You press your lips together and Abby smells your anger. 

But you smell her arousal.

“Enjoying pushing my buttons?” Abby frowns like you said something stupid, but her scent spikes. “I can smell you.”

Abby huffs and gets up to walk out of the room, still trying to keep her irritated facade, but you catch her by her waist: you will not let it slide. 

“You don't get to walk away from me after being a brat.” Abby frowns but her cheeks flush red. She is caught.

“I'm not a fucking brat.” Abby tries to save her dignity. “You need to learn how to fold your clothes.” 

“Do I now? Or did you come up with an excuse to get me angry?” You graze her throat with your fangs and Abby folds. 

Her scent becomes thick and it hits you hard enough so you dig your nails into her waist, her pheromones pushing all of your instincts that are revved up on Abby's mood. You want to own her, to show Abby her fucking place and your brain just doesn't function anymore. You're not her nice gentle alpha now - you feel possessive and aggressive. 

“Bedroom, now.” You growl and Abby obediently guides you to your bedroom. 

You close the door and push Abby to the bed while she looks at you with her golden eyes and she is still fucking stubborn.

“Knees and elbows.” You order her and Abby listens. 

She presents herself to you: her spread glistening thighs with her swollen pussy on display. Abby turns her head to look at you and you growl: from this angle she looks so innocent, as if she wasn't being a bitch two minutes ago, and so inviting, begging to be filled and fucked properly.

You get on the bed and knead her ass, making Abby mewl, getting her desperate and frustrated - you feel it in her scent, her impatience. 

“You want something, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” Abby growls and it rips your self-control to shreds. Your eyes turn red and your scent gets worse, overpowering Abby. 

You grab her hair and press her head into the mattress, while you hold her waist with your other hand, making Abby arch and submit. Abby feels your jeans on her bare thighs and she rubs against you, not caring about anything anymore. 

“Don't fucking growl at me.” You say and Abby whines, falling into heat euphoria. 

“Please.” Abby begs, now definitely too turned on: she is ready to fucking cry. 

You hum and let go of Abby's hair, trying to get yourself under control. You sit back and watch Abby's hips wiggle, looking for any kind of relief, and you can't take it anymore, can't see Abby so stressed because she's not getting fucked. 

Two fingers slide in Abby easily and she moans, relieved. Abby can't keep her thighs up, her knees sliding in opposite directions, so you hoist her up by her hips and finally starts fucking her. You're still careful, but Abby is so wet and her cunt stretches so well around your fingers that you get more aggressive, almost taking your fingers out only to push them back to the hilt. Abby whines and grips her pillow, not knowing where to put herself: it feels so good, but she needs more. 

“I need you, please.” Abby chokes on her moan when you thrust particularly hard. Your pace gets quicker and then Abby feels another finger prodding her hole. “Oh my god, yes.”

“Look at this pussy, taking my fingers so well.” You marvel, watching your three digits fucking in and out of her. “You must be already close, tightening on me like this.”

Abby whines and snakes her hand to her clit, but you don't let her, pushing her hand away. Instead you lean down and suck on her clit, making Abby cum immediately. Abby shrieks and tries to close her thighs, but you keep fucking her anyway, until she taps her hand on your hip.

You slowly take your fingers out of Abby and kiss her ass cheek affectionately while you watch her cum drip on the covers. Your dick twitches and Abby whines when she sniffs how turned on you're, eager to satisfy you. Abby arches deeper, a clear invitation, and you growl, unbuckling your jeans and sliding them down enough for your cock to be free. 

You rub your dick on her wet, sensitive pussy and Abby growls again, too impatient for her own good. The slap on her ass cheek makes Abby twitch from sudden pain, but her scent spikes in arousal. 

“Cut it out.” You growl back and slap her other cheek, leaving a red handprint on her skin. 

Abby mewls and only gets wetter, pressing back into you. 

“Please.” 

“You can do better.” You huff and gently slap her cunt, making Abby jump. 

“Please-please-please, I need you, fuck.” Abby begs and you tap her pussy while she speaks just to rile her up. “Alpha, please!”

Abby hides her shriek in the pillow while you bottom out inside her, dragging your cock over her tight, sensitive walls. She is so wet and smells so fucking good, you just have to lean down and sink your teeth into her shoulder. Abby whimpers and bucks her hips, taking you even deeper, making you moan into her ear, and you both fall into full pheromone bliss. 

You slam your hips into Abby, pressing her head into the pillow so she wouldn't move, so she would submit, and she only sticks her ass out for you, submitting happily. You are mounting her now, covering Abby with your body, suffocating her with your scent, and Abby melts into the bed, whining and whimpering as you fuck her. Abby doesn't even try to think, fully lost in you, her only need is to be filled up and knotted now. 

“Alpha-” Abby sobs and pushes her arms by her sides to grab her underbutt and pull it apart, opening her drooling hole for you. You growl and slam into her harder: you don't control yourself anymore. 

You move your hand between Abby's shoulder blades to keep her pinned, but then you move enough so you could play with Abby's clit while you thrust into her relentlessly. 

“F-fuck-” You grunt when Abby tightens around you, making your pace stutter. “You're gonna be good? Gonna cum on my cock?”

Abby nods her head feverishly and mewls, her cunt flutters around you. 

“Good.” You growl and pick up your speed. You're so high on the pheromones, on the way Abby's pussy is so tight and hot around you, so you keep fucking her, pushing back inside her just to hear her little whimpers and feel her hot walls trap you. 

Abby coils and cums, filling your nose with her spiked scent, and you don't think anymore: you don't hear anything except Abby's pleas to knot her. You dig your nails into her hips and pull her back on your cock, and Abby jumps and twitches, but takes it. 

“Cum inside me, please.” Abby moans and you slam so hard into her Abby moves up on the bed, her poor pillow is under her tits now. 

“You'll look so good pregnant with my kids, Abby.” You pant. “Gonna be a good little omega and take my knot?” 

“Yes, please, yes!” Abby sobs and arches again, showing her submission, and it tips you over: you thrust into her, pushing your knot inside and Abby cums again, triggering your own orgasm when she pulsates around your knot. You growl and cum, filling Abby up. 

You both collapse on the bed and you bury your nose in Abby's neck, growling still. Your scent stops suffocating her and you both start to calm down. Your brain gets clearer in time with Abby's and suddenly you both smell of anxiety. 

“Fuck.” You sigh, not sure if you can touch Abby: you were so fucking rough with her. “Baby, how are you? I'm so sorry.”

“I'm fine, I'm good.” Abby says quickly, but she stinks of anxiety. “It's not that. You're in rut.”

You stop breathing. If you're in rut, and Abby is in heat, it-

“We fucked up.” Abby whispers, horrified. “I'm not on birth control.” 

You swallow, your heart heavy: you know what it means - it means Abby can get pregnant, since the syncs are the only times when an omega can get pregnant. You take a breath to keep calm for Abby's sake: you need to fix whatever upset her. You need to make her feel happy and safe, not scared and anxious. Thank god you can think for now, before your hormones fuck you over again. 

“Okay, baby, breathe. I'll go to the pharmacy and buy emergency pills.” You tell her gently and Abby nods. 

“What if they don't work? Fuck, what if I get pregnant?” The smell of anxiety intensifies and you really want to sneeze. 

“Then we will deal with it.”

“Will you leave me?” Abby sniffles.

You chuckle fondly: Abby is so cute during her heats. 

“Of course not. Summer wedding, remember?” You nuzzle into Abby's neck and carefully move to your side to make you two comfortable. “I'll be with you no matter what.” 

Abby sniffles again and smells of love, and you hug her tightly, your affection spilling out of you. 

“I didn't want to be so rough.” You say apologetically and Abby snorts. 

“I loved it. I knew someday I'd break you.” Abby smirks and you look dramatically shocked.

“So you planned it!”

“No, I was annoyed. But now I know I just need to growl at you and you'll do exactly what I want.” 

“Don't start now, I'm still kinda power crazy.”

“I'm going to have so much fun.” Abby giggles and you flick her nipple, making her yelp. 

“Yeah?” You purr dangerously and Abby shudders, clenches around your knot. “I will use my voice if you do it again.”

Abby bites her lips as her plan forms in her head. She is definitely growling at you again. 

It takes fifteen minutes for the knot to ease up and you run to the pharmacy, knowing you have fifteen minutes before you’re hit with the next wave. You stink, and people let you go first so you won’t bother them, and you run back home just in time. 

You don’t expect to be met with a very grumpy Abby: she sits on the bed in your t-shirt, frowning and pouting, her arms crossed on her chest. You blink at her, trying to guess her mood, but you have no idea what it is. 

Then she scrunches her face when she sees the pills in your hand, and her frown deepens. 

“No.”

You blink again.

“What do you mean “no”?”

“It’s our baby. I want to have our baby.” Abby crosses her arms tighter, defiant. 

Each word triggers your rut and you have to breathe through your mouth to calm down: you can’t just listen to your omega begging to have your baby, but you need to think with your bigger head right now.

“How about we go through this sync, and then if you still want a baby after, we will take it seriously, hm?”

Abby frowns, irritated. 

“Why can’t we have this baby? It’s already there!”

You hardly keep yourself from laughing: Abby is so fucking cute.

“Because this baby’s got irresponsible parents who will have them as an accident.”

“Okay. But only this time. I don’t want an accident baby. I want a planned baby.” 

Abby takes the pill and drinks water, while you sigh in relief - Abby might’ve been more stubborn. 

“It’s all your fault.” Abby says and you chuckle. 

“Instead of being a brat you can just beg like a good girl.” You offer her and Abby huffs. 

“You wish, alpha.” She mocks you. You smile.

Five minutes after Abby is begging and crying when you use your voice to tell her she is not allowed to cum. 

She is not the only one who is allowed to have fun.

[wonderlandwalker]

Intertwined Demise | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: It only takes a single second for his world to fall apart in your hold

Content Warnings/Tags: Blood, injury, angst, a lot of insinuations but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: For some reason I can't seem to be able to write anything longer than this. But here is a little snippet of angst until I find the headspace to write properly again

Your face was covered in dirt and dust, only clean where the tears had forced their path. And if it hadn't been for that simple fact, you wouldn't even be able to tell you were crying. Your face was strong, stoic even. All emotions lacking at a time when you would expect them most.

He kept waiting for your fight or to flight, but the longer he waited, the more hopeless the situation became, the more he wished he could get through to you. Because you were standing there, frozen.

And it's strange, the things you remember when you're watching the light fade from someone's eyes. Like the time you tried to show him how to make madeleines, but how could you expect him to focus on the melting butter when you were so, so close. And really, he thought, how was he supposed to not kiss you. 

He starts yelling at you until his ears start ringing, but it's no use, you haven't moved a single muscle.  You just stand there, looking at him as if everything will be okay. As if you’ve found your world in his eyes and are prepared to leave with it. 

He wants to run to you, wants to rip you away from your own thoughts. He wants to tell you about the promise you made to teach him chess. He didn't care much for the game itself, but the time you spent playing it was time he had to spend without you, and so he was determined to learn. But it’s no use, you’re standing there like a pawn in someone else's game, and he hasn't learned how to save you yet.

And the rest of your friends, the rest of the squad is pulling at him, trying to get him to move. Telling him to come with them, that they have to go. But how could he call them friends any longer if they did not see that by asking him to leave you, they are asking him to leave a piece of himself here.

Against all their pleas, and against all their orders, he stays right there. He stays and looks at you, he looks at you as if all of a sudden, you’ll be in his arms again. You’ll be in his embrace and you’ll tell him about the colours you think you should paint the house, and he’ll always agree with you no matter which one you think is best.

But it wouldn't matter, because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get to you through the glass wall separating you. The material is in front of him as if it's mocking him. He can see you, he can see his heart being ripped from his chest, but he cant reach to get it back.

You had fallen behind, you had noticed something the others didn't and spent an extra second looking at it, but when you figured out what it was, your fate had already been written. 

When he had heard the noise, when his ears had alerted him something was wrong before his eyes could even get the chance, he had reached for you. He had reached for you to push you ahead of him, shielding you from whatever it was he had heard. He had turned around, and he had seen the last bit of space between you close up. And this shield wasn't one he would be able to get through. He wasn't the only one trying to get to you, he heard bullets being fired into the wall, but it didn't make a difference, it was too strong. 

From behind you, he could see peacekeepers turning the corner, and he starts pounding on the glass even harder, he hits it until the blood from his knuckles turns the glass into a tortured canvas. He screams out for you, but it doesn't seem like you can hear him. He sees your lips moving, and he can recognise you telling him you love him. But it doesn't calm him down like it usually would, it only makes him fight harder. Your body language is a stark contrast to your face, and he can see how afraid you really are, how guarded you’ve become, but you’re determined to make this last moment matter. He wants to give you what you’re asking for, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop the desperation in his voice or the anger in his body. 

You weren't dying, no, this was worse, you were giving up. Your tears stop and he sees you blink the last of them from your eyes. You’re still looking at him, you’re looking at him as if it will be your last opportunity to do so, and he wishes it could be a better one. 

He doesn't understand why youre not fighting, why youre not trying to get away from the men who circle around you and start to drag you away. You go with them as if they're not leading you to a world that doesn't have him in it. 

And all he could do was watch, watch as you went through agonizing despair, watch as they took you from him.

Everything around him turns silent. He no longer hears the yelling of the people behind him, he no longer pays attention to the alarm that has started to sound. 

It is in that moment that he gets it, because the moment he can no longer see you, he stops everything he’s doing. He stops screaming, he stops crying, and he drops to his knees. 

Everything around him becomes a background noise that he no longer cares enough about to identify. And he understands now. He understands the tranquillity in losing the only thing that keeps you going. He knows because it isn't even a choice. He knows he will do anything and everything to get to see you again. He will spend the rest of his life looking behind him as if you’ll be there, reaching for you until his mind starts to take pity on him and he’ll get to see you again.

And he will gladly lay down his own life to give yours back to you. Even if he doesn't get to see you again, the knowledge that you will be alright will bring him all the peace he could wish for in this moment right here.

Because what is there to lose, he thought, when you've already lost your mind.

[theoryfan205]

Okay I've gathered my thoughts about Cecilia with all the new information prior to me playing cantarella's story quest or reading new NPC dialogue so if this gets broken in a few hours you'll probably hear me complaining about it in the notes, while this will be tagged as spoilers I will also be putting a read more in in case the tags don't work for some reason, this is your warning for spoilers for the latest story quest, however there's no spoilers for cantarella's quest because I haven't done it yet, just guesses, so lets get into it

Okay so like whole childhood idea is gone, Gilberto or whatever his name was I always mix it up is an outlier, his ass was only like that and spoke about worshipping the threnodian because his mind cracked, he could no longer resist the leviathan and became it's puppet basically, from my understanding from all that the fisalia are more of a hardened family over intentionally neglectful and abusive, they all have a duty from birth to prepare against the threnodian, to lie about believing it's lies to one day dispose of it and so they must be strong enough to properly resist it's lies. I assume that's also where the poison thing comes in, eating it specifically, it's to strengthen them against it maybe? That or they're just kinda freaky about their poison claim who knows. So cecilia's story now seems to less be about finally realizing the truth that her family doesn't love her and more about Cecilia realizing that her family's way of love isn't right for her, it's too hardened, everyone is so busy preventing themselves from drowning that they could not save her, the fisalia's have a duty and the burden of it nearly crushed Cecilia, if rover didn't arrive to stop the threnodian in the time they did she would have succumbed, or well, she would have ran from it. I'm keeping the running away part but changing it a bit, she knows her family's duty, she knows how important it is for the Imperator and her nation, but it still hurts so much. You can't get too attached lest they become a puppet and require you to kill them, sidenote Gilberto or whatever his name is is probably fucking dead huh? Rip man Cecilia will miss her maybe shitty uncle, all her life it has been distance and duty, tell no one and stay strong in the rough waves, considering this her mirror world that eventually is used to trap Carlotta? Likely a threnodian trick, a lie it bred in her heart for the day when her family can finally love her freely, with no need to be hardened and ready for the worst, where they would love her freely when given the chance, likely why her mirror self fights so hard to get her out of there, part of her knows this is betraying the family duty and dooming herself, but if she doesn't have this lying hope she'll crumble.

Though despite that her plan before Rover stepped in was to just run away, she would give up her fight by fleeing, her forced duty she had no choice in eventually grew in her a feeling of resentment, a dislike towards the home she had to protect, towards the family that forced this duty on her, she knows it isn't their fault truly but she cannot handle it, she wants out.

And so when the threnodian is defeated before she has the chance, she feels incredibly guilty. She was going to abandon their duty at the Pinnacle of finally being free? It crushes her, that she felt herself more important than gods her family was set to fight and protect, what crushes her more though? Is that I doubt much changes in terms of her family's love. They don't run to embrace her, finally happy to form a bond with their daughter, their niece, they can't love her like that, not after they've spent their whole lives being distant for everyone's safety, and she hates it. They should be free now, but it feels as if nothing has changed, is she truly so selfish for wanting more? She never asked for a divine responsibility like that yet it was thrust upon her from birth, is she selfish for wishing the gods had never looked upon her at all? Is that something to condemn her for? She finally realizes that the family she waited so long for would never be hers, and in the end in their victory all she feels is crushing guilt and resentment at having to have lived like this at all.

[sol-consort]

How's Cyberpunk 2077 holding up for you choom?

Blue hair, pronouns, and getting hate crimed at the border. Life truly couldn't get better than this

Also I fucking adore him

Also do you see this man right here? I'll rip the galaxies to shreds, flood the deserts, and boil the seas if even a single hair on his cute head is touched.

At first I was like oh my god he trying to hit, but no! He introduced me to his mom and holy shit he's like a brother from another mother but this another mother became my sorta mother and she looked so proud when I finally moved out god.

I picked a nomad, trying to do a stealth/sniper build. So far, playing V as an assassin who can't lie to save their ass, ironically. Very autistic, brutally honest, but also sweetly genuine. Picked every single reflex option that's ever popped up.

In that history pamphlet, they said nomads came from farmers who became roamers after the destruction of their farms.

And while their descendents don't know shit about farming, the way they're raised certainly embodied a lot of the traits of people who are taught to value family, integrity,and hard work. So V is less of a cool badass assassin and more of a beaten down truck, rusty barrel, and very out of touch with the city people kinda deal. Lowkey inspired by TF2 sniper?

And blue hair because... yes. It was that or the pink one. I wanted to go all natural brown since that's a common trend in characters I maken, but I decided nah last second. It's a cyberpunk world! So i cyberpunked all over the place.

I almost picked the 4 pupils' eyes. Those were so cool. Wanted to do like a "two-headed calf that wasn't properly put down " type of theme with them.

But the blue hair is just ??? so vivid and beautiful?? I genuinely stare at it in awe ingame. I love it so much. The gold because I love gold accent, and it meshes well with the blue. The black eyelashes because I wanted them to lowkey look like tendrils sprouting from the pitch black sclera eyes.

It runs well on the steamdeck, 30fps tho, which i don't care much about. I spent some time adjusting the trackpad into a semi-functioning mouse since aiming with the joystick was hard.

Oh and I started on hard difficulty because, yes. Leveling Cool and Reflex so far to have that tasty golden crit ratio.

You know, watching the anime first actually helped a ton into comprehending the world building. I wouldn't have the slightest clue who Arasaka were, or just what a lot of phrases meant. Like I don't feel lost or overwhelmed by the world at all because I understand the stakes! I recognise names and places even. I understand tech-heavy lingo even.

I enjoy the writing and dialogue, I'm still getting used to the quick time conversation options, which I usually hate but for some reason don't seem to mind much in this game.

It's really immersive and the quick time options help sell that real world feeling. I might even disable a lot of the HUD and tags just to enhance the experience.

[ace-does-stuff]

i am the high you can't sustain

summary: sometimes surrendering yourself completely to your partner for the sake of a sharper edge is worth it

tags: innuendo, whetting/sharpening, heavy sexual tension, ambiguous relationship

authors note: was sharpening knives the other day and it Got Me Thinking, so i hope ya'll enjoy

Soul is a good Weapon.

He does exactly as his Meister says without question and lays his life on the line for her without a blink of hesitation. If he needs to die for her he will. If she needs to die for him he won't let her.

That's probably one of the reasons that it feels like second nature when she holds his hand and his other arm warps itself into a scythe blade. Sleek and shiny with sharp angles of red and black.

He blinks as he realizes what he'd done.

He reverts it.

"I want you in your Weapon form right now."

And Soul obliges.

A flash of light before the snaith rests in her hands and wow, it's so fucking different than normal when she doesn't have her gloves on. She's so, she's so warm. He can feels where each finger presses down on his body, heat seeping into him.

"What do you want me in Weapon form for?"

His voice reverberates in her skull as it always does.

She just shrugs.

"I never actually examined you properly, I need to check for cracks, see if you need repairs."

"Repairs." He scoffed the word, "I don't need repairs."

"Not even if I took a whetstone to your blade to sharpen you?"

Oh he is so glad he's in Weapon form right now because that sent a shudder ripping through his soul. A sharpening session. He's heard that some people with bladed partners partake sometimes, to try and strengthen the Soul Bond.

But Maka?

He was never able to picture Maka using a whetstone on him. Nor Black Star. Or Tsubaki. Not really anyone for that matter.

"Yeah, sure, whatever- do your dumb examination to see if I need sharpening or whatever."

His aloofness is more a show than anything else. He cannot let his Meister know he likes this.

Her hands on his body, cool steel heated by her touch. He's immobile, near completely, aside from the ability to turn back. Too late to do that without her recognizing this is putting him into disarray.

She holds his shaft all the time what makes this any different?

...

And why in the name of hell did he start thinking about his shaft in reference to his handle. His snaith. His definitely not the kind of shaft that first comes to mind when you read the word.

"Maka-"

"Yes, Soul?" She's trailing her hand from the pommel at the base all the way up in one swift motion.

"Stop touching there."

She does.

"Sensitive?"

"It shouldn't be, c'mon, you hold me all the time."

"I usually wear gloves."

"What difference would it make?"

Maka smirks a bit, "Body heat, Weapons are usually colder than Meisters. The gloves block most of it, and now that they're gone you can feel all of it."

"Your hands are warm."

"I know, if I didn't wear gloves you'd be way too distracted on the battle field."

"Would not!" The glint of a shocked expression is clear reflecting in the blade.

She just runs her thumb along the chine and watches as he sort of melts just like that. Retreating deeper into himself to avoid the mortifying ordeal of being seen so vulnerable as a Weapon. When she reaches the heel, where the tang meets the metal of the shaft, she pauses. Just resting the heel of her own palm against it.

And even though their souls resonate this is so close for them.

It's so close it hurts.

And then Maka pussies out and lets go, she practically drops him to the ground.

He's startled to the point of snapping back into human form and boy does he ever look disheveled. His face is flushed and was he sweating? He was. He's in some sort of disarray.

"What was that for!" Soul snapped as he jumped shakily back to his feet. He tries his hardest to stare Maka down but in spite of how calmly she was handling his entire body mere seconds ago she's flustered.

"I didn't mean too!" Maka snapped back, swiftly rising to her own feet to stare him down.

"Whatever. It's fine. Just don't drop me again," Soul said before trying to exit the room.

"I didn't finish examining you," Maka said firmly.

There it is.

That mule stubbornness Soul loves to see, something he's glad she grew into instead of out of. He was hoping she'd say something like that, an argument to keep going. He shuts off a shark tooth grin before holding out a hand to her.

She takes it.

Before another word can be spoken Soul is once again held entirely in her hands, the weight of his blade barely an offset as she settles down on the couch again. She runs the heel of her palm along the flat edge of the blade, smoothing from the beard to the toe with ease.

When she slides back her hand, she traces along those clashing ridges of red and gunmetal black. Soul let's her. He can feel it in his flesh, his idea of flesh at least. He doesn't really have that right now, just a glimmer of the self cast in the reflection off the blades edge. He can still feel it, like her touch is running across the scar on his chest.

She pauses momentarily before continuing to the unorthodox attachment ring. There's no rhyme or reason to how it works, he's so different compared to other scythes she studied in books. Most had a distinct knob and a distinct heel and a distinct tang- but for Soul? It all sort of melds into one thing with a nice design on it.

When she runs her finger along the edge, Soul whimpers. He would recoil but he physically can't. Besides, it didn't actually hurt, just shocked him a bit.

"Any scuffs?" Soul asked in an almost choked tone.

Maka shook her head, "None on the blade." She let her hand rest at the base of the knob on Soul's form. Is she allowed to be gentle?

She presses onward, scouring his snaith for any scratches or cracks. She can't let him snap in half on her. She can't have him be hiding wounds or damage either, as much as he's meant to die for her if needed, she doesn't want him too. She'll keep him safe too.

And he's fucking writhing the entire god damn time that she's fondling his handle. As much as she's always gripping what feels like his legs or his hand or his arms (he can't tell), this is just so different. He'll tell himself it's just maintenance but there's more, so much more.

They can both feel it, shaking them too their core. How long will this shaky resonance last they don't know. But they can both sense it, and they wonder for a brief moment if their friends have similar intimacies.

"You don't have any cracks, scuffs, or anything to worry about," Maka abruptly declared as she let Soul simply rest on her lap. Hands completely removed from his form.

He snapped back, still mostly rested across her legs, "Nothing?"

"Nothing at all," Maka said, and maybe he's tripping but he's pretty sure she sounds disappointed.

"If you like, if you weren't kidding about the whetstone, and have one ready." Soul sort of trailed off, face slowly getting redder before he turned to face away from her. He mumbles out a weak, "Might be nice."

"I actually did get one ready, I just didn't think you'd even let me inspect you for chips," Maka said, "I thought you'd lose it the second I touched your shaft-"

"Maka, don't call it a shaft."

Maka silently nods before continuing, "But you didn't lose it."

"If you have a whetstone ready please sharpen me, Maka." He sounds way too desperate. He isn't even begging. His words are just heavy with want. He's never been sharpened in his entire life, not even by himself.

"I mean," Maka started with, this sly smirk coming to her face, "You're already so sharp, I don't see why you need to be sharper."

Soul holds up a scythed arm, "Touch it, tell me I'm as sharp as I was when we first met."

Maka runs the pad of her finger on the sharp edge of his blade, and she doesn't loser the tip of her finger. Which is odd. He should be sharper, scythes usually slice through flesh without any hesitance. Maybe the Meister and Weapon relationship stops him without any thought behind it, maybe not.

She gives a small hum of disappointment. There's some blood on her finger, not much though. This explains why he's been so hard to use during missions lately, why she has to haul extra ass to get it to cleanly cut. To tear into flesh and rip apart with a smooth edge.

"You are kind of dull."

"It's an issue."

"Do you actually trust me enough to let me sharpen you?"

"What do ya mean by that?"

"Sharpening a knife shaves off the metal, sharpening a Weapon shaves off some of the soul. It's a permanent alteration."

Does he?

Man who the fuck is he kidding, of course he trusts Maka enough.

He gives a nod as he warps his arm back to normal, "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"It's permanent. What if I mess up your edge? And no one else can do it after I do, the angles will be different to the point it'll ruin your edge entirely. It's a one time deal, Soul."

He didn't realize it was that permanent, "I still trust you."

"Will you be my partner forever then? After I sharpen you no one else can lest they ruin you."

"No need to be so fatalistic. Besides, cool guys don't cheat on their partners. So we'll be partners forever, no doubt about it."

Maka nods, "Cool."

"The real question is whether you want me half transformed or fully transformed," Soul said as he sat up.

"We'll see where the night takes us."

"It's the middle of the day."

"You know what I mean."

"I'll be waiting while you wet the whetstone," Soul said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke. The success with which he beat down the flusteredness that wanted to surface was impressive.

"Cool." Maka stands up and brushes herself down, "Cool."

"You good?" Soul called out to her.

"I could ask you the same!" Maka called back from the kitchen.

Her hands are hesitant when she actually grabs the whetstone, retrieving it from where it rests wrapped in damp towels. It's a small one, handheld, a coarse grit on one side and a finer one on the other. She's used it on knives many times, she's never told Soul about it, tried to hide it from him.

Maybe it's selfish, but she never did want him too sharpen himself. He could so easily butcher his edge if he tried. She's had a hard time with many knives in the past, but now?

Now she's practiced.

Now she knows exactly how to match an edge and an angle and keep his blade the same but sharper.

She douses it in warm water before returning to the couch where she finds Soul perfectly prone in Weapon form. Entirely in Weapon form. She expected him to be half Weapon right now, an arm morphed into a scythe and nothing more.

In spite of this she takes a seat next to him and hosts him up onto her lap. His handle rests on the armrest of the couch as she adjusts his position.

"Comfy?" Maka asked.

"Comfy as I can be," Soul said.

"If it hurts, let me know," Maka said before placing the whetstone to Soul's blade.

He gasped.

He fucking, he really did just gasp.

She lifts the stone, sliding her finger down the slope of the blade to find the belly. The slightest little bit of metal before it gets to convergence of metal. Where the sharpness lays.

There's a far louder gasp as she runs her finger across the belly, from point to beard with one motion. If he were human he'd be shaking, he's sure of it. She grips the whetstone and holds it to the belly, held at an easy angle that matches his own.

It grates quietly as it sharpens him. Back and forth without a moments pause between the motions. She slowly works, drawing in with the stone and pressing out. Her motions are swift of course, but it takes time to make progress. Watching as that glossy sheen gives way to the glimmer of a fresh surface of red.

There's a throaty whimpering sound before Soul speaks, "Slow down."

"Does it hurt?" Maka asked, halting her motion but the coarse edge to his belly the whole while.

"No, just feels weird." He takes a few deep breathes to steady himself, "Keep going."

She picks up again at a slower pace, still repeating the motions dutifully.

He's squirming within the blade, his soul feels attacked directly. Shaving away his very being on a microscopic level. But also, it also feels really fucking good. He never really fully understand the whole getting a massage or taking a long soak to unwind thing, he never really was human anyways.

This feels nice though.

Relaxing.

Even if it is abrasive to his core, it's nice.

Maka flips him over to get the other edge. She feels around precisely for the belly, looking for it and finding it with much more ease than before. She pauses to actually enjoy the moment, the fact that Soul really does trust her. Trusts her enough to let himself be made anew by her hands.

It's...

It's something else that's for sure.

Falling into madness with each other is one thing, this is another.

It almost feels vulgar, but not quite. She's sharpened dozens of knives, honed steel on steel and sliced her fingers doing so many times. And she's always held Soul, his entire body, resting in her hands. Hands that he entrusts his life in, hands attached to the one that he's willing to throw it all away for.

She glides the stone across the edge of his blade, and then she runs her finger along it and hisses as it cuts the skin. Oh yeah, he's definitely sharper now, he could still be more sharp though. She only used the coarse grit, didn't even get a chance to use the finer one. That'd really shine it up, bring him to the next level of sharp.

"I guess I'm sharp enough now?" Soul asked.

"Could be sharper," Maka answered with absently, "But for right now? You're plenty sharp, better than when we first met."

"Nice."

"Come out of Weapon form for me?"

And he does exactly as she says.

He looks blissed out, just completely relaxed. She doesn't think she's ever seen him at this much peace before. Not a single muscle in his body is tensed and there's a lax grin on his face.

"You enjoyed it?" Maka asked with a teasing tone.

Soul nodded, "Oh yeah, I loved it."

"You look really fucked up right now."

"Fucked up bad or fucked up good?"

"Fucked up... Different." Maka paused, "You're usually pretty tense."

"I'd offer to sharpen your blade but I can't really do that for ya, it's an experience," Soul said, he gestured with a hand as he spoke. A small chuckle rises, "I get the whole self care hype now, I woulda been sharpening myself years ago if I knew it felt that good."

"If you sharpened yourself then I couldn't do it for you," Maka said.

Soul shrugs, "I'd just offer you massages instead, that'll strengthen the Soul Bond, won't it?"

"I haven't read on that before," Maka said, "It could."

"We could find out tomorrow," Soul offered, "You know, pay back or something like that."

"You don't need to repay me."

"What if I wanna though, Maka?"

"Firstly, I wouldn't trust you."

"I trusted you to hone my blade."

"I've been practicing on normal knives since we moved in."

"And you never sharpened me until today?!"

"I didn't want to fuck it up."

"How badly could I fuck you up by making a massage mistake?"

"Very badly." Maka slung Soul's legs off of her, "Before we get any further, I think I might have some wax."

"Wax?" Soul asked.

"Yeah, to give you a nice polished finish."

Soul feels his stomach flip at the notion, "Yeah, yeah that'd be cool. I'd be down to let you polish me off."

"Don't say it like that."

"Then don't call my handle a shaft."

[vanillaxoshi]

septuplet au Sibling competition part 4

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" Alright everyone it's time for entering the second round 'Tag race and draw lots !'Now here's the rules !-" " First! You need to choose on of your partner to join the tag race ! The partner have to tag one of the troublemaker who appeared in the first round before and get theirs's cap as a prove !" " Then the remain teammate have to draw a piece of note that have written with something ! All you need is to bring the closest answer to the judge to accept the answer ! If the judge don't accept it , you can change the answer ! The chance is unlimited so you can keep try again ! " " You have a 45 minuets to finish the game , to enter the third round both teammate have to finish the task ! If not you're out ! " "Now everyone I give you 1 minute to decide ! The one who pick the tag race gather to the left ! The one who pick the draw lots remain on the field ! " "The race start once the alarm rings so chooses wisely !" "And that's all ! I'll see you guys in final round ! Good luck !"

The competitors starts to discuss with their partner once the announcement end .

'' So Fang what do you want to pick ?"

"I'll choose the tag race , I believe that you have better solving skills than me . " ( Totally not because you're exhausted , I don't think it's safe for you to chasing people around the school .)

"Alright you made a point-Hum ?!"

Cahaya swift his head to a direction as if he sense something . Looking around the field leaving Fang who is confuse by his action .

"What's wrong Haya ? "

"....... Fang ."

" Yes ?"

"Be more alert ."

"Ok?????"

Fang starts to head to left with the others .

'' I'll see you later Haya ! "

" Ok ! Take care !"

As Cahaya watch Fang leaves he lets out a huge sigh .

" What do you guys want ?''

He ask the two figure who is standing behind him . Which both of them are Petir and Tanah.

''Haya we need to talk ." "Same here ....."

".......Make it quick ."

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" Huff-Huff -"

" I did it !!!!!"

Comes from Fang who successfully got the cap from Angin .

It's turns out the reason that we didn't saw Angin on the field because he is the one who leads the ' troublemakers' .

In the first round Angin decide to wander around the school and the game station didn't do his role properly plan to play around untill .......he also witness the '' Shortcut '' that Fang and Cahaya used .

That just make him a "bit" angry so he give some "special attention" on Fang .(which is making Fang have to face Angin alone , Angin might have went a "bit " hard on Fang by letting Fang chased him while pulling some trick to make he trips a lot in the process.)

But that's not the thing that bother Fang the most - it's because before he meet Angin , Duan and Api keeps distracting him during the race by stopping him to get near the ' troublemakers '.

"Oh Fang~ where are you ~? "

Fang quickly shut his mouth and hide .

"Oh don't worry I just want to have fun with you ~"

Fang slowly sneak away as Angin didn't notice him .

Now all Fang needs is to return the field to-

" Hey didn't that Cahaya weirdo got in the second round ? I bet he didn't do anything ."

Fang stops his track .

He saw a group is walking at the hallway chatting with each other . Their are not competitors

" Yeah , I mean he's like the person thinks that he's smarter than anyone while he can't make friends ."

Fang feel some anger starts pilling up .

"I mean there's nothing special about - What the - ? "

" Well isn't mean that talking someone's back?"

Fang made a barrier with his shadow as it surround around the group.

"Who are - "

"I'm Cahaya's FRIEND . And if I heard something bad about him again - I WILL NOT HESITADE TO RIP YOUR MOUTH ! SO NOW FUCK OFF ! "

The people runs aways as Fang drop the barrier.

"Seriously ! Just because Haya is different that didn't mean that you could just talk behind his back ! Besides he is definitely not weird ! "

Fang storm off the hallway didn't notice that Api, Daun and Angin heard the full conversation before they can throw hands .

Something change inside them how they look Fang .

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.

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"Haya I'm back ! I got the cap - Eh ?"

" Welcome back ."

Cahaya greet Fang as he wipes off the tears off his eyes .

"You just come in time , I don't have idea how to solve this yet-"

" What happened?''

"......."

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it but do you have any injuries I need to worried ?'

"........No"

"......"

"........I have a fight with Tanah and Petir earlier."

"They say that you're a bad influence , I should pick a better person to be friend with."

"I refuse and talk back to them . That's how we end up fight ....."

"......."

Cahaya stopped talking.

Cahaya didn't say anything before Fang broke the silent .

"Do you need anything ?"

"....... Can I get a hug? plea-"

Before Cahaya can finish it Fang hugged him.

Cahaya is a touch starve and affectional person but he never ask it ,it usually happened unintentionally . So this is actually the first time that he request something like that .

Cahaya snuggle to Fang neck for a while then quickly pull out as he got an idea .

"I got the answer now !"

Fang is startled by Cahaya's sudden change of behaver .

"Quick !Fang we running out of time ! "

" Ah-h Ok ???"

Cahaya drag Fang to Infront the judge .

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" ......You got your correct answer now ! Congrats !

come from the judge .

"Fang ! Fang ! We can go to the final round now!''

Cahaya happily jumps .

" Haya ? What kind off question dose the note written ? "

Cahaya stops jumping and he starts to blushing .

"Errrr...... I'm not gonna tell you ."

"Ha?-That's not fair ! Tell me !"

"No !''

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" What is something that wasn't the best but you can't let go ? It might get misunderstood but you know how it's value to you , you adore how they are and they also adore you the way you are . "

Of course angin is a troublemaker

And how old are they here?? 11??

If so FANG WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE >:(

*But gives head pats to him for defending his friend

And tanah and petir! I know yall protective but let the boy be :(

I wonder if the answer of the last question is friend, or maybe both cahaya and fang might answer each other👀. Though the answer could be an item, the answer could be alot of things depending on the person 🤔

[fallingforfandoms]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @all-my-worlds-a-stage (and sorry for only getting back to you so late, but, you know, ideas had to be dwelled upon, etc etc etc)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

14 - could have been less if I had been a a more responsible human being with more impulse control, could be more if I wasn't such a goddamn perfectionist, sigh.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

332,695 (because my projects usually escalate way too quickly, sorry not sorry)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Officially, Tatort - Tatort Ludwigshafen to be specific. Currently peering over the edge for Münster and Wien. And I had a huge obsession with the MCU and The Witcher and Sherlock before, and still have half a novel based on The Night Manager up on my drive somewhere. And then there was also that missing scene from House of Cards that started it all on AO3 (but it's buried beneath a bunch of Lena Odenthal content now, thankfully).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sonne, See und Sterne: The summer holiday fanfic that I wrote throughout December and January (... sounds pretty normal imo) for Lena Odenthal and Johanna Stern and that I still like to read from time to time to dive back into that vibe :')

A Scarred Sunrise: My debut fanfic on ao3, the infamous House of Cards oneshot that probably only got this many kudos because it's not part of a German niche fandom :'D

The Hand Is a Servant of the Heart: The very first Lena/Johanna fic that I published, yet another missing/adapted scene from canon (aka from one of the more traumatising Ludwigshafen episodes that needed some sort of ... band-aid to be fixed, lol).

Das Nest: My very first fluff & smut Lena/Johanna fic that didn't fall into the abyss of trauma and tragedy but instead escalated into a Love Actually rip-off by the end (and I still adore it for that).

Liens de cuir et mains de soie: A dom/sub/switching kinda character study/crossover between Lena Odenthal and Esther Baumann set mostly in France, inspired by the lovely but lowkey deranged idea by @disappointingsalad at the start and improved by her very own contribution at the end - thank you so much! :)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, because I love each and every one of them from the bottom of my heart!!! <3 (Also, the only reason that it takes long-ish for me to reply to some of them is that I cannot stop grinning and jumping up and down out of pure joy every single time I re-read them to reply properly, so, sorry not sorry, but you people make my day with those and I save them in an extra outlook folder because of that <3)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Since I'm usually rather fond of happy endings, I tend to resolve most of the tension. "Zerrissene Fäden" would be a possible candidate though. Maybe also "I've Come To Burn Your Kingdom Down" or "A Scarred Sunrise". Because of the uncertainty that still simmers through towards the end, but idk.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, since I'm a sucker for happy endings, they're all quite happy so far. But the happiest ... huh. Maybe "Das Nest". Or "Sonne, See und Sterne". Or "Liens de cuir et mains de soie". I can't decide on this either, apparently, oops :'D

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. But that's one of the few advantages of a small German fandom without great shipping wars, I suppose :'D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ha. Haha. Hahaha. Yes. Been there, done that, many kinds of that, in fact. Anything from the sweet vanilla kind (looking at all those 'found family' tropes) over the fast and messy ONS kind to the dom/sub-themed and/or throuple 'well that escalated quickly' kind. Each has its own perks. And its challenges (looking at the classic wlw problem of overusing "she" etc). But I still love delving into those headcanons on a regular (and mildly irresponsible) basis ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I wouldn't call it far-fetched since both fandoms are Tatort-related, but the sub/dom-themed Ludwigshafen/Saarbrücken crossover up on ao3 is definitely ... some kind of crazy. And then there are also all those Wien / Münster / Bremen ideas which haven't quite left the nest that @all-my-worlds-a-stage and I have so far built for them. Look forward to those ;) Also, in non-Tatort terms, there was this one Geralt/Loki fanfic I started years ago but I'm ... not even sure I'd find that cursed document again at present :'D

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'd know of it (niche fandoms strikes again).

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope (niche fandoms strikes again).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @disappointingsalad. And I'm currently working on some other ideas that require more than my last two braincells, in this case with the help of @all-my-worlds-a-stage ;)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Given my ao3 history, the case seems pretty clear - definitely Lena Odenthal/Johanna Stern. Honorable mentions go out to Sherlock/John, Geralt/Jaskier and Jamie/Brienne. And to Wilhelmine Klemm as well, because whoever she ends up with is so goddamn lucky to have her (and I'm here for each and everyone of them).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh God. Most of them, I suppose, given the lethal combination of adhd and perfectionism that rule my brain? :'D But the first thing that came to mind was the band AU I started a couple of months ago. Because the movie playing in my mind just at the thought of it is already so perfect and I don't have any idea how to get all of those scenes written down in exactly that way.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogue? The amount of raw dialogue I've written as a kick-off for some vague idea is ... quite telling. In many ways.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Introspection. Whenever it comes to the thoughts of characters, my own mind is just ... blank. No idea what they could be feeling or thinking in this very moment, or rather, no idea how to phrase it without putting it into dialogue. Yeah, I know, just what a non-TV writer needs to work properly :'D

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Been there, done that, probably wouldn't do it again, at least not in the way I did it then.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Officially, House of Cards. Unofficially, probably Sherlock? Or the MCU? That was ... ages ago though.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

You CANNOT ask a mother which of her children she- well. Wait a minute. I think I'll throw "Von Schwertglanz und Schattengewächsen" in there, the medieval Tatort Ludwigshafen AU I started this February. Because this is such a long-ass project that has accompanied me through some pretty ... interesting months and I worked so many inspirations and easter eggs into it. And I'm continuing to do that now, in this very moment, because I watched a very gruesome Tatort Wien episode (thx for the rec @carlomainzinger ;_;) that had just the right amount of protective & soft found family vibes and raw & unfiltered force to thwart me back into this setting (not as hard as Bibi was thwarted around her own flat though, uargh). So, yeah, uh, look forward to that, the wait might be over soon ;)

Well. That was fun. Throwing this over to @carlomainzinger @mordsfesch @krejong @rheingoldweg12a @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare @disappointingsalad @karin-in-action @khalaris @cornchrunchie and literally anyone else who wants to join in, no pressure though!

[justsomewhump]

Some random stuff after a long silence XD inspiration hits at weird intervals!

So I've already written a short whumpy fanfic for my current whumpee, and there's another long-ass one in the works, and I have found my people to daydream about him getting hurt, and I am so glad about that...

But I've reached the point of writing an R-rated whumpy fanfic, as I do, and I don't know my people there 😳 I can't just go to my current bubble and go like "Hey do you also like to see him getting ripped apart like that" because what if it's a trigger for them? I mean, there's a reason I post my R-rated fanfic on a completely separate account.

I'm sure there are people out there who would enjoy this. I've even found a very good fanfic with that subject matter, but... it was not a Dead Dove Do Not Eat kinda thing. It had all the proper warnings and tags (I mean, that's how I found it, lol) but in the chapter with all the... action, the writer said specifically where the action started and where it ended, so people could avoid the graphic stuff.

And still there was someone in the comments saying they liked it but they felt so upset because it awakened bad memories and I want to SCREAM like. The warning is there for a reason.

Anyway, I'm just saying that though it was properly tagged and a pretty good one, it wasn't... idk, that enjoying of it? Like, I've written some dark shit and it was unapologetically self-indulgent.

It's not bad that it wasn't that, to be clear. It's just that because it had a lot of comfort afterwards and focus on the character relationships, I'm sure that most people who read it wouldn't be ones who would throw themselves head first into the kind of stuff I like to read.

So idk I was just writing this as a vent that I haven't yet found the people who will do exactly that... but I realized I have to be the change I want to see.

And since I already have started writing something, I thought at first I could post it only after it's done in full, but I can just post a first chapter and see what comes from this. If anything I just wanna TALK about this with someone, lol, but I don't know who. My friends who would enjoy it are not in this fandom and my friends in this fandom I don't know if they'd be comfortable reading it. So maybe posting a chapter out there can bring me people from both sides :D

[bambirex]

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 12

Pairings: Geraskefer, Yennskier, Geraskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made up lore, fertility issues, completely made up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, intersex Jaskier, Ciri whump, Geralt whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care

Rating: mature

Full word count: 37,220 words

Chapter word count: 2,989 words

Chapters: 12/?

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Jaskier and Yennefer have a heart to heart that helps the both of them get over their fears and doubts. Geralt teaches Ciri some important things.

Author's notes: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for a lot of pregnancy talk in this chapter, especially leaning into the forced/unwanted side of it, so if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, please, skip this chapter or at least the first half of it for your own sake!

Read on Ao3

*

Positioning his lute against his growing belly was getting harder and harder to do each day. The first time he experienced a pregnancy, Jaskier felt tremendously sad over this, since playing his instrument and singing along was one of the only small comforts in his life while he was in captivity. He wanted to bash his lute against the wall, claw his stomach open and tear himself from the inside out when it first happened. He screamed and cried and mourned the life that was taken away from him.

It never got any easier, but his emotions dulled enough for it to be a bit more bearable. He became desensitized to the discomfort, to the alien feeling of being a guest inside his own body. Jaskier could barely remember a time when it truly belonged to only him.

Strangely, now as he struggled to place his lute over the parts of his lap that weren't yet covered by his bump, he laughed. Something that used to be so humiliating, was now almost endearing. Somehow, he didn't hate the child growing within him.

He was never allowed to think of them as children because he knew he would get too attached, then, and it would hurt all the more when he had to give them away to the humans. He thought of them as invaders of his body, as things that were put in there for someone else's needs. He had to, because it made it easier to handle the heartache of seeing yet another baby ripped out of his arms. They were never his, not even for a fleeting moment.

Jaskier didn’t know what the future had in store for him, but he was certain he was never going back to Master. He would rather die than live like that again, as a pretty decoration, an entertaining toy. He found something that finally gave meaning to his sad, lonely life. Maybe it was too soon to say, but Jaskier felt like he's found himself a family. And he didn't want to leave them.

He felt a small kick against his belly and he chuckled.

"What, you like my misery? You find it funny that I can't play properly?"

Another kick. Jaskier ran his hand over the place where he felt the little feet. He swallowed when he felt them press against his hand.

"I don't know what to think of you," Jaskier told the baby honestly, rubbing over his swollen stomach. "What am I allowed to call you? Are you mine? Kick once for no, twice for yes."

Nothing happened. Jaskier chuckled at his own silliness. Then, two little kicks in quick succession. Jaskier's eyes welled with tears.

"Don't lie to me," Jaskier whispered, "I can't handle it if you're just joking."

He heard the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up to see Yennefer standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.

"Hey," Jaskier greeted her, forcing a smile through his tears. Yennefer stared at him for a few seconds with an unreadable expression, before she spoke.

"Hi. You okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Jaskier chuckled. "Just, uh, talking to myself. No big deal."

"You weren't talking to yourself," Yennefer pointed out as she walked inside the room. "You were talking to the baby."

"Fine, maybe I was," Jaskier held his hands up in defeat. "Ciri is downstairs cooking with Geralt. I'm bored."

"You could have joined us," Yennefer told him. She sat on the bed. "Geralt was asking about you."

"Oh," Jaskier felt his cheeks warm up. He shrugged with a sheepish smile. "He must be wondering why I'm not eating everything in his house for once."

"He likes you," Yennefer said, her smile genuine. "And I think you like him, too."

"Well, you can't deny he's a gorgeous hunk of a man, Yennefer."

"It's more than that."

Jaskier snorted softly. "Then I guess I'm not alone with that. I've seen how you look at him, too. You can't deny you've warmed up to the witcher."

The flush on Yennefer's cheeks, and her fleeting smile made Jaskier grin.

"Thought so."

"Shut up, you moron," Yennefer scoffed, her cheeks still pink.

She looked down on Jaskier's stomach, her small smile fading. Jaskier bit his lip. He knew what it meant. She tried to hide it, but she always looked at him that way. There was a deep ache, a longing in her eyes.

There was a time when Jaskier thought he and Yennefer would never get along well. There was a time where he thought that being from such vastly different species, they would never find common ground. And yet, there was a bond between them, which got deeper and deeper as they went through all the horrible things back at their owner - and now, they were going through something else together, something lovely. At the bottom of it all, there was him, a chatty fae who fell in love with a sassy witch. And he may have not known what exactly did Yennefer feel for him, he knew she trusted and cared for him.

He knew about the pain Yennefer hid under her angry exterior, the loneliness and the loss. And like he's promised her he would try and make sure she would get through things okay when she was dragged home from the market all those months ago, he was more than ready to keep caring for her the way she deserved.

And that care had to come with honesty.

"I know you think it's a gift," Jaskier started. He cupped his belly, Yennefer's eyes following his movements. She swallowed audibly.

"That I can carry children."

"It looks like that to me," Yennefer replied honestly. "I can't do that. I wish I could."

"It would be a gift, I think. If I was allowed to do it on my own terms."

He took a deep breath. The baby shifted in him again, as if trying to calm him.

"I was very young when I had the first child. I was terrified. I wasn't prepared. And I did not want it, not like that, with the knowledge it's not really mine. That they would be taken away at the end."

His throat tightened painfully. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him all the while.

"You carry them inside your body for months, but you don't get to cherish it. The kicks, the little movements... they do not belong to you. Your body... it's not yours anymore. It's a vessel for someone else. And you go through all that pain, that discomfort, completely alone. Not with a mate to hold your hand, not with a family to have your back. You have a heartless Master who only checks on you to make sure you would deliver a healthy product. That's what he called them. The babies. He called them products."

He blinked against the tears in his eyes. He heard Yennefer take in a sharp, shaky breath.

"I don't hate being pregnant," Jaskier explained quietly. "I guess I did, in the beginning, but only because it was forced on me. I wanna have a baby. A child. I do. I wanna know what it's like to bring my own child into this world, to myself and people that would care about them. But I never had that, and I kept brushing it under the rug but Yennefer, I hate that I never had that."

When he looked up, he noticed Yennefer's eyes were shiny with tears. It made his composure crumble even more.

"I was much lonelier than I let on. And then... you came along."

He gave Yennefer a wobbly smile. "You, and your strormy violet eyes, your death threats and your constant hissing. Your acidic insults and your thinly masked self-loathing that manifested in hatred for everyone. You... and your lonely, hurt heart. You and your emotions that you weren't allowed to feel. The kindness, the love, the gentleness in you. The beauty that was not dangerous, but soft. Something that deserved to be cherished."

A tear ran down Yennefer's face as she told him to stop it. But Jaskier wasn't finished.

"I love you, Yennefer," he told her as he wiped at his eyes with a wet little laugh. "You're my exact opposite and yet, you are just like me. Lonely. Used and abused by humans. Abandoned and humiliated. You came along and it was like looking into a mirror. I don't know what this thing is between us, but I know I never want to lose it."

He reached for Yennefer's hand carefully. Yennefer immediately squeezed his without hesitation.

"And then we met Ciri. This brave girl who's suffered like us, whose heart remained kind and pure despite what she's been through. A true inspiration. A wonderful child. The first child that maybe... will stick around. I love her. Like she's my child, and that's silly, right? But it's true. I care about her. And I don't care who wants to get their dirty hands on her, I won't let them. I will grow a whole forest around them and bury them under the trees before I'd let them hurt her."

"Who knew you had such a violent streak in you," Yennefer chuckled softly. Jaskier shook his head.

"You bring this out of me. Not violence, but... bravery. Something I lacked before. Geralt... he's making me brave, too. Because I see this man, who isn't even supposed to feel anything and yet he feels so much. He's a wonderful father, a great friend... so much more human than the ones who call themselves such. He's strong, not just in his body, but in his heart. He would do everything to protect his daughter, and now us. And it means a lot to me. That he had no reason to trust us, but he still does, that he's willing to put everything aside to keep everyone safe. I love him."

Tears fell onto his shirt, soaking the soft material as he looked down on his stomach.

"And this baby...I don't know, for the first time in my life, I think maybe I'll get to keep them? They might be a part of me that will finally stay. I want them to. I want them to be mine. I feel like after we escaped our owner, we all got a new life. And I want this life to be great, I want to share that life with you and Geralt and Ciri and maybe this baby, too... because I think I love this baby."

He broke down sobbing, wringing an arm over his face. He felt arms wrap around him and pull him close, fingers threading through his hair soothingly. He buried his face in Yennefer's chest as she shushed him.

"Thank you," Yennefer whispered, her own tears falling onto Jaskier's head. "Thank you, for telling me this. It means a lot, you know? Because I envied you so much for being able to get pregnant. I hated you for it. My own body did not belong to me either. It never did. It was used like yours. And it was hollow. Devoid of the things yours had. I always wanted to create something but the humans made sure I never could."

She pulled back to cup Jaskier's face, gently making him look into her eyes.

"But you know what? Fuck the humans. Fuck everyone who made us feel like we weren't worthy. Who told us we were only useful for our womb, or who made us feel like shit for the lack of it. Because we both create beautiful things, Jaskier. Look at us! Look at what we have together! Look at what we're doing with Ciri, with Geralt! It may not be much, but it means something, right?"

"Right," Jaskier sniffled. He let himself lean into Yennefer's touch as she gently wiped his tears away with her thumb.

"I never thought I'd have this," Yennefer admitted. She pressed her forehead against Jaskier's, taking a deep breath.

"I thought I would be alone all my life. And I kept saying I was fine with that, because who would ever love me, anyway? I was called scary, dangerous, hideous... I never had a bond with anyone. The closest to it was another drepima. We spent like, what, four days together? I did like her. But then she was beaten to death. And I promised myself I would never get attached to anyone. My kind isn't cut out for that."

"You never told me about this," Jaskier said quietly. Yennefer swallowed.

"I know. I only just told Geralt about it, too. He was the one that pointed out that it may have hurt me more than I let on. I believed I wasn't deserving of care, of friendship, love... of a family. And I genuinely did not like you in the beginning."

Jaskier chuckled. "Yeah, that much was obvious."

"I hated you for being everything I couldn't be, and I hated you for still being so kind to me. It scared me. To be treated with care. I wanted to keep you away from me, but... I love you too, you little asshole. You've grown on me like a particularly clingy, annoying moss, and you know what? I'm fine with that. And I'm fine with sticking with you. And Ciri... she does feel like a child to me, too. Something I thought I could never have. Geralt... yes, I do love him. He's different from what I imagined him to be. All my life, I've been surrounded by hatred and fear. Chaos and destruction. Now... now, it feels like I'm building something. A family, maybe."

"You deserve a family, Yen," Jaskier told her, the nickname slipping out easily. Yennefer didn't seem to mind, if her smile was anything to go by.

"We all deserve a family. I know I probably can't get my own back. I'm not sure they're even alive. But that does not mean I have to be alone, right? We could be a family. The four of us."

"Five," Yennefer corrected him softly. Jaskier noticed she was looking at his stomach again - and for the first time, instead of the painful longing and envy, he saw something else in her eyes. Something like awe.

"Can I..." Yennefer whispered, her smile wobbling, "would you mind if I...?"

"No," Jaskier replied softly. He took Yennefer's shaking hands and guided them to his belly. Yennefer took in a sharp breath as she placed her palm over the swell of Jaskier's belly.

"How do you feel?" Jaskier asked her. Yennefer opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then, she smiled again, bright and genuine. Jaskier's heart fluttered at the sight.

"Great," Yennefer replied earnestly. She let out a soft gasp along with Jaskier when the baby kicked again, fluttering excitedly against Jaskier's skin.

"They like you," Jaskier grinned. Yennefer laughed through her tears as she gently caressed the curve of his belly, making the baby kick and roll inside him again.

The sight of Yennefer smiling as she held his belly was everything to him. It was beautiful, genuine. It was perfect.

"Yen," he whispered, causing her to look up at him curiously. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," Yennefer replied without hesitation. Jaskier gently cupped her cheeks as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Yennefer's hands remained on his belly as she kissed him back happily, melting into him.

--

Ciri could barely believe her ears when Geralt told her it was time for her to learn some swordsmanship. She's been begging him for ages to teach her how to fight, but Geralt always refused, claiming it was better if she stayed out of trouble.

"What changed now?" She asked, curiously watching Geralt packing away their food and grabbing two swords. He handed Ciri the lighter one with a smile.

"I decided to stop being dishonest with you," Geralt told her. He placed a hand on her back as he led her outside. "Now you know everything about yourself. You know why I said the world was a dangerous place. You were right when you said you're stronger than anyone in this house. Not just because of your powers."

He placed his left foot forward and drew out his sword, motioning for Ciri to do the same. Ciri stood next to him and mimicked his movements.

"I will keep protecting you," Geralt promised as he swung his sword around in the air, deliberately slowing his movements down so Ciri could easily copy him. "But that does not mean you should be kept from protecting yourself. Yennefer will help you control your powers, and I can help show you how to fight even when you can't rely on them."

Ciri grinned at him. There was something different about Geralt now: he was a bit less stoic, a bit more open. Ciri wondered if revealing her family's history was what did this to him, or his clearly growing feelings for Yennefer and Jaskier. It was perhaps a combination of both.

"We're supposed to be training," Geralt reminded her as he caught her staring. Ciri laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just happy, you know? Things are so scary now, but you're making them okay."

She placed her sword down on the ground and hugged Geralt tightly. Geralt wrapped his arms around her in return.

"We're all gonna be okay, right?" She asked against Geralt's chest. Geralt hummed as he gently ruffled her hair.

"I'll make sure of it," he promised. "We all will. No matter what happens, we won't abandon each other."

"That includes Jaskier and Yennefer too, right?" Ciri asked, looking up at Geralt hopefully. Geralt smiled.

"Of course."

Ciri put her head back on his chest with a happy smile. Right now, no matter how uncertain the future may looked, she truly believed they would all be okay.

[shepgarrus]

10 mutuals I’d like to know better

tagged by @misseffect, doing it right away so that i actually fucking DO a tag game for once lmao

below a cut because i RAMBLED:

Last song I listened to: when i saw this it was Eye To Eye by Limelight

Favourite content to watch: oh god. i've never had to think about this let alone put it into words. i like to watch kpop stuff, mostly dance practises (for seeing the choreography) or performances, or just jamming out late at night to old favorite songs. i also watch too much MBTI stuff the eternal fruitless search to determine if i'm intp or intj. in particular this girl is an AMAZING actress so my hours spent watching her double as acting research at least, lmao. other than that i like random interesting educational documentaries or whatever. i have the algorithm so set on kpop on my main gmail account though that i rarely see them lol

Favourite games: MARIOKART. mass effect is okay too ;) i just suck at shooters rip OH I COULD TALK ABOUT NON-VIDEO GAME GAMES. bridge is my favorite card game, i loved president/janitor in school too. for board games i love monopoly (i've recently started to play against myself with various 'strategy profiles' for the 'other players' and a spreadsheet to keep track of the money)

Favourite colour: purple

Favourite animal: SNAKES. in fact i have a purple snake plushie beside me right now

Favourite food: pemmican - fully dehydrated meat (not jerky, which still has moisture and is also usually flavored with spices) that's ground up into powder or near-powder and then mixed with rendered animal fat. or what i usually do because i'm lazy, 'lazy-man's pemmican' - the dehydrated meat strips dipped in the fat manually (with salt) (and when it's with salt and the beef fat batch has some factor in its making that i have yet to discern the source of, it straight up tastes just like McDonalds french fries)

Sweet, spicy or savoury: savoury

Current obsessions: oh my god i don't currently have any all-consuming ones..................maybe that's why i feel off xD

Last book I read: The Last Man by Mary Shelley and when i tell you it was the BIGGEST slog of a book. like it was good but i have NEVER read a book so slowly holy shit, at one point i did ten pages in thirty minutes? my dude?????

Last thing I Googled: “korean surnames” because i knew the wikipedia page would have a particular chinese character i wanted to check the definition of

Relationship: single from the womb, single to the tomb B)

Fun fact: god does this even count but. i'm feeling like going unhinged (for me) and going on a trip alone to south korea for however long my money lasts or until i'm not having fun. i've never been overseas or properly travelled let alone travelled alone, i know less than 100 words of the language (i'm speedrunning rosetta stone but it's not gonna be enough if the trip happens in the less than a month my unhinged-ness is leaning towards for irl reasons), i've never even had korean food i just know their stuff is healthy (and spicy. so i may just die on day 1 who knows lol)

Tagging @venividivictorious @comp-lady @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @heat-sink uuuuuuuh i'll stop there because i haven't been around much recently and i can't think of anyone else that i know hasn't been tagged yet xD but if you want to do it consider yourself tagged! a reward for reading my rambles

[fandom-hoarder]

@vanmarkus You're so right on this, too. We used to encourage people more, and we need to again.

A stick figure of my blorbos, or a really rough manip, or a series of Sims screenshots telling a story, or my-first-fanfiction from someone who TRIED means SO MUCH MORE than a generative amalgamation stealing from the biggest artists in fandom, or morphing real faces by combining them with 50 other conventionally attractive people whose pictures were online. Even the least polished photoshops I've seen are better than some of the AI nightmare fuel I see people regularly comment "gorgeous!😍" on without noticing the extra elbows and melted together hotdog fingers. 😒

Skill comes with practice, and everyone's abilities are different even then, but if the passion is there we should nurture it. That's how fandom becomes community.

And as for the artists who have been at it long enough to be professional quality, I fear the AI problem has even further undermined the amount of work they put in to create the ACTUAL art AI rips off. It's like when people don't understand where the meat in a store comes from before it's packaged. 😑 And even further, it's becoming harder to tell the good stuff apart from the AI that rips it off, so that people will discount work that took hours or days as just being AI without even thinking.

This is why some fandoms have been trying to promote actual intercommunity engagement with events and blogs specifically for showing fandom love and putting people with less engagement in the spotlight. It sucks that it's something that needs organized, but that's part of maintaining community, too.

But chastising people about their shitty forms of engagement can have the opposite effect of what we want, too. Not just from contrarianism, but for anxiety reasons like perfectionism--like when people complain about only getting kudos, or getting "i like this" comments instead of details.

As someone who has been greatly affected by these sorts of stalls myself in recent years (I want to leave my typical detailed comment but I can't right now so I will leave this tab open so I can quote...oh no this tab has been open a year. I reblogged with squee tags and left a kudos and maybe even messaged them on tumblr but I didn't PAY THEM WITH COMMENTS they probably think I'm awful), I've become much more forgiving about, for instance, receiving kudos and reblogs without comments, receiving polite comments asking for more when it's marked complete, etc. Those still MEAN something, and they're just as important to fandom engagement. Some people are shy. Some people are newbs. Some people are overwhelmed and have a list of fics they want to properly gush at but will be caught in a loop for hours if they don't just say, "this was amazing," and move on, but that holding pattern gets worse if they think someone is judging the quality of their engagement on the other end.

The readers and rebloggers and kudosers are part of the community too, and sometimes they too need positive reinforcement.

We used to MAKE THINGS in fandom. Manips were works of love and skill. If we incorporated someone else's work, we credited. Yeah sure it's not as easy as having ai make your blorbos kiss, but it also wasn't soulless. It was amazing because a person MADE it.

[alstroemeriaxamare]

Question of the Day

(stolen from @unlikely-valentine) What’s your favorite way to sneak a kiss to your s/o? Do they act surprised? What do they do?

If you had to pick a game to play with your F/O, what game would it be?

What is a trope you and your F/O fall into?

Do you and your F/O dance? If you do, what dances do you enjoy?

What is a song that reminds you of your F/O? (Thank you anon!)

How would you celebrate your F/O's birthday? How would they celebrate yours? (thank you @azurekisaragi)

[midnghtprentiss]

fooling you - emily prentiss

pairing: ssa emily prentiss x peditrician!femreader

emily got insecure about an unsub and push reader away. based on fooling you by rachel platten

warnings: angust (not much), cursing, fluff!!!!

i am obsessed with this concept i'm sorry

comment if you want to be tagged in the emily stories!

Emily was pushing you away again. You didn't know what happend at the BAU and she wasn't talking… at least not with you. You got different jobs, you work in a hospital and she works catching bad people. Some days were amazing, some days weren't and that 's the deal. If you want to talk about things or only share what's wrong, it's alright. Pushing you away was everything but alright. 

The knock on the door of your shared apartment took you out of your transe. You smile when you see Hotch's figure. You called him because you know he's the only one she could talk to for now. 

"Sorry for making you come. She's pushing me away, Aaron." You took a deep breath and he smiled calmly. 

"It's alright. I'll talk to her." He made his way inside. 

"She's in her office." He nods to the room and knocks twice before going in. 

"Babe, I don't want to talk." She stops when notice Hotch is the one there. "Seriously?" 

"You're screwing up again, Emily." He sits in front of her. "Talk to me."

"I, I'm worried Hotch. When we caught the unsub today he told me something about protecting the people we cared for and I panicked. What if someone does something to her trying to get to me? That's my fiancé and I can't even protect her properly." Emily looked at her friend and shook her head. "Hotch, I can't lose her but I hate the idea of something happening and my efforts are useless." 

"Emily, she called me to talk to you because she knows you're worried about something she doesn't understand. She would never risk her safety knowing you could never see her again. Honestly, our job is hard. Everyday I wake up terrified something happened to Jack and I go to sleep terrified something happened when I'm sleeping in the other room. And when nothing it's real I got back to reality. You're afraid of something, everybody is, don't let this consume you and rip something you treasure." Emily nods, wiping her tears aways. "Talk to her and do me a favor, be honest."

Emily and Hotch talked for a little longer and he left when all was alright. Both of you didn't speak a word 'til bedtime. You took Sergio in your arms and tucked him under the blankets. Emily went to bed a couple minutes later, she was wearing her old FBI shirt and pajama pants that absolutely did not match. 

"Can we talk?" She sits in the bed next to you, getting under the covers too.

"Only if you want to." You answer, looking at her.

"You know I've done things I'm not proud of and sometimes I'm not sure if I really changed. You know all that and still you stayed." She holds your hand "Everyday I get paranoid if I'm deserving of the unconditionally love you gave me because you just love and accept me. Any reasonable person would be left by now. I have no idea why you decided to stay. You hold me when I got scared, you wiped my tears when I cry and you love me when I'm so fucked up." 

"Emily, I love you. I think that part of loving someone it's accepting, loving and caring. You feel like you don't deserve it? Bullshit. I saw your best and ugly days. I watched you break down so many times and I didn't want to leave. I know you know I mean everything I say, when I reassure you how much I am in love with you, you're strong and I have no idea how your job is but I understand it's too much. You don't need to speak to me when it's too much, pushing me away it's not okay." 

"I feel like I'm wasting your time, fooling you. Anyone would love to have you and here you are with me." 

"Emily, I love you. I chose to be with you because I love every single inch of you, I don't care about what you do in your past and how these people get inside your head. I want you to understand I love you for who you are. Bad days, good days, wild days and lazy days. You're not fooling me, God, don't say that ever again, not in front of our cat, not in front of me and absolutely not for yourself." You sit straight in bed, giving her a comprehensive look. "I wish you could see yourself like I see you. You spent hours in a line with me to buy concert tickets. You took Reid to a Russian movie festival. You help Morgan with his training every sunday. Don't make me remember the day you let Penelope dress you like a unicorn vomit in you. You are the most caring woman I know and honestly, I can't believe you don't believe. You should and I'm fine remembering you every day until we're gone." 

You cup her cheeks and give her a sweet kiss, hugging her tight. 

"In this house we don't give up 'cause we're afraid, we do things to make us stronger and cuddle at the end of the day." 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to push you away. I thought I was protecting you." You both get comfy in the blankets.

"I love you, alright? Till I'm gray and old." She laughs and it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

"I love you. If you start that thing again I'll call Penelope and she'll come over." 

"You wouldn't dare!" She hustles at you, pinning you under her. 

"I'm crazy, woman."