#'just eat less' is not the great advice you think it is

[kindaeccentric]

So a significant side effects of my medication is greater sense of hunger and weight gain. People obviously say it should be easy not to gain weight knowing it, because 'it's enough to just not eat more and exercise : )'. But I wonder if these people know how it feels to try to ignore hunger and exercise when your whole body aches just from taking a walk. Especially if your brain needs stimulation and when you're already struggling with disordered eating. It's a literal torture. Chronically ill people should never be shamed for gaining weight. Nobody should.

[teaboot]

Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing

I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect

Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with

Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.

Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings

Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.

Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.

Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless

Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy

[gglitch1dd]

All i am currently imagining is the midoriya family having a comedy tiktok account. Imagine seeing pro hero deku doing the water dance with his youngest son strapped to his chest(was that weird)😭😭

Oh the Midoriyas DEFINITELY have a tiktok account.

Midoriya Family Online Shenanigans

Note: Normal DILF Izuku AU

TheMidoriyas was a TikTok account originally started by Izuku when he married you because the both of you have such odd funny moments together that he couldn't help but share.

Initially he honestly didn't think it would take off as big as it did but it did.

"Honey what did you say?" Izuku asked with a chuckle as he looked at you, the camera focused on his face as he held his phone to look at him.

"Does it float?" You asked nonchalantly.

Izuku just stared at you amusedly. "You mean my..." He motioned down to his crotch. You nodded your head. He couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course it floats."

"...You're lying."

He let out a loud laugh at the allegations as he stared at you. "Why would I be lying? It floats. My entire body can float so of course it floats."

You stared at him blankly before shaking your head. "Nope. I refuse."

"What do you want? Proof?" He asked amused at your pure denial. You nodded your head, indicating that indeed you wanted proof. Izuku put his free hand up indicating that he wasn't responsible for the results. "Alright."

The video changes to show your husband with bare shoulders from the shoulders up, sitting in a bath tub. He's clearly looking at you despite you not being in the frame. The video is silent for a moment before a gasp comes from you in pure horror.

"IZUKU NO! EWWW!" A loud laugh comes from your husband at your reaction. "IZUKU STOP IT!"

The public love your videos and love seeing a more personal take on the both of you that is rarely seen.

However, your videos become less frequent as the both of you hide your first pregnancy from the world.

The first real posts come from the both of you tackling parenthood for the first time all while hiding your newest addition's face from the camera. It was a decision you both mutually agreed on and one you took seriously.

You did videos now sparingly not because you didn't want to, but mostly because you didn't want to use your son for content.

For the longest while the both of you don't post for years and sort of only use the account for hero news or any big events that happen that the both of you as the Midoriyas, the Number One couple of Japan, should comment on.

However, Toshinori as he comes into teenagehood, soon finds this account and takes over it with your permission and suddenly your family's account is booming.

Your family's chaotic moments, crazy advice, and genuine takes and conversations become a raw view into your lives.

But Toshinori dislikes it the most because of comments like:

"Why do I lowkey understand his mom. Deku is such a dilf." Toshinori reads on the screen. His face scrunches up at the comment as he lifts up his nose. "Ew." He let out bluntly. "My dad is literally the most dad person you've ever seen. He eats a lot, he sleeps, he bulches like a goat." The camera shifts as your eldest son moves to the kitchen. "Dad! Dad!" Suddenly Izuku is in the frame, hair grey on the sides and body thick with muscle and fat. He raises an eyebrow at the camera recording him and then looks at his son. "Dad, people are calling you a dilf?"

Izuku scoffs at the comment. "A dilf?"

"Yah, do you know what a dilf is?"

"I know what it is." He laughs at his son.

"So what are you gonna say about it."

Izuku takes the phone and looks at the camera. He smiles. "I know right. My wife would agree."

"DAD!"

Despite not showing any of their kids who are under the age of thirteen's faces, you're family is pretty great online despite it.

-Glitch1d

[wheresarizona]

Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend? 

No. 

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so. 

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner? 

The answer is simple: Ellie. 

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller. 

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe. 

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him. 

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.  

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest. 

His neck. 

God, he’s sure nice to look at. 

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her. 

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too. 

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you. 

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat. 

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.  

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did. 

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was. 

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you. 

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more. 

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed. 

The place is practically empty when you arrive. 

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side. 

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply. 

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy. 

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.” 

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.” 

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me.” 

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing. 

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding. 

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer. 

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp. 

Joel yanks the guy in front of him. 

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.” 

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.” 

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.” 

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him. 

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.” 

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend. 

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?” 

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table. 

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?” 

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick. 

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh. 

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open. 

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles. 

He won’t even look at you. 

“Give me your hand,” you order him. 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.” 

“No.” 

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.” 

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness. 

His head turns to glare at you. 

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.” 

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out. 

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say. 

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him. 

His eyebrows furrow. 

“What?” 

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts. 

“Before that creep started getting handsy.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away. 

You’re confused. 

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?” 

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.” 

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.” 

“Oh.” 

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?” 

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious. 

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies. 

That has your eyes widening. 

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?” 

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup. 

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.” 

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools. 

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?” 

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.” 

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?” 

“I don’t know, Blue.” 

“Blue?” 

“As in Bluebonnet.” 

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is. 

“I love it.” 

The smile falls from his face. 

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache. 

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was. 

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“What now?” you ask. 

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.” 

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.” 

He looks at you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is Ellie home tonight?” 

His eyebrows dip together. 

“Yeah?” 

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.” 

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?” 

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin. 

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.” 

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.” 

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.  

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight. 

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate. 

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.” 

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.” 

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way. 

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.” 

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?” 

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.” 

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back. 

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed. 

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point. 

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes. 

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says. 

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles. 

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.” 

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. 

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.” 

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious. 

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes. 

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements. 

“What?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it. 

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach. 

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more. 

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.” 

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center. 

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.” 

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit. 

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him. 

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.  

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath. 

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?” 

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh. 

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm. 

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.” 

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning. 

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. 

“I’m people…” 

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek. 

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?” 

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.” 

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.” 

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Well, how do you want me?” 

He looks confused. “Huh?” 

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?” 

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.” 

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them. 

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink. 

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance. 

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away. 

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you. 

“Been a while?” 

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”  

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest. 

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.  

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips. 

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back. 

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move. 

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow. 

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?” 

“Yes,” you moan. 

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter. 

“Lean down.” 

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length. 

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.” 

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body. 

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high. 

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own. 

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast. 

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning. 

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain. 

“Where do you want it?” he grits out. 

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk. 

“Inside.” 

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?” 

It is a rare thing to want these days. 

“Yes.” 

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths. 

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums. 

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks. 

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck. 

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.” 

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.” 

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning. 

“I like you more than somewhat.” 

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.” 

“I do.” 

“And I like you.” 

“Good.” 

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?” 

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious. 

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.” 

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.” 

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away. 

“What?” he asks, bewildered. 

“How are you going to tell Ellie?” 

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.” 

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...” 

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend? 

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend. 

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes. 

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.” 

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts. 

People around the mess hall turn to stare. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin. 

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat. 

Masterlist

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[thatbookgirl1118]

I cannot for the life of me find the original post (tumblr is a hellsite) but this was sent in an atla gc:

@the-badger-mole

and tbh i always kinda felt like kataang was weird exactly because of that one-sidedness??? like there's one episode of katara maybe sort-of seeing aang as a love interest (when the fortune teller tells her she'll marry a powerful bender), but then the rest of the show is her being passive in the relationship or actively pushing aang away (like their second kiss). and then at the end she just randomly decided "okay i like you i guess."

whereas aang got a bunch of pining moments and you actually believed he was in love with katara.

and most of their relationship was about how she helped aang - he did contribute to her character development over the course of the series especially as a bender of course but it didn't feel as emotionally/spiritually deep as katara's literal one episode sidequest with zuko.

but then someone else wrote "I would argue the opposite? Kataang is where Katara choose the peaceful nomad which subverts the trope presented where zutara is where she chooses the strong protector/combatant. Aang as a character is a subversion of the typical hero while zutara is like,,, coloniser romance idk"

and honestly... i kinda get that. aang was problematic in a lot of ways, but he was definitely a subversive protagonist, and i can see the power of allowing the woman to choose the pacifist vegetarian over the extremely obviously hot jock badboy. this is an incredible oversimplification of their characters of course, but the point stands.

Basically, Kataang is the ship we all logically want - the sweet, friendship-based, seemingly subversive one. But Zutara is the one that actually makes sense in the story, with these characters, not their tropes. Aang is subversive, but he and Katara are also kind of terrible for each other - he isn't mature or selfless enough for Katara, who needs someone to force her to take care of herself because she's always the one taking care of everyone else (wonder what that's like). That's why she and Zuko are so perfect, because he not only takes care of her, he makes HER prioritize herself. Aang... does not. He's pretty selfish, which yes is partially due to his immaturity (I personally don't count Korra as canon because it treated ALL the og characters terribly so I'm speaking purely from his 12 yo self), but it's also just a basic incompatibility thing. And Katara is actually equally bad for Aang - she enables him waaay too much, and he needs someone who doesn't. Who forces him to stand up on his own two feet and take responsibility. She's too much of a mother, and her relationship with Aang is too mother/older sister-ish.

With Zuko, on the other hand? Katara started out HATING him, forcing him to prove himself to her instead of handing him everything she had like she tended to do with Aang and Sokka. He had to earn her care, and as a result he appreciates it way more and demands way less of it. He's a far less selfish character generally for the same reasons, and is much more mature/has a better understanding of life and gray areas. Southern Raiders is a great example of this - he's down for whatever Katara decides because he understands that there's no one right answer, unlike Aang who simply preaches forgiveness. I'm not necessarily attacking Aang about that either - I do believe that grudges eat away at a person, and taking a life does haunt you, so forgiveness isn't necessarily bad advice. But it's not what Katara needed. Aang is great as a friend, but I don't think he's what Katara needs from a romantic partner. Zuko just... is.

[thefirsthogokage]

Very helpful thread made for those walking the picket lines by an EMT in Florida:

(screen shots from here on out. Too many images to put in one post. Sorry for the dark mode switch ahead of time)

[Image ID: a tweet thread made by @TheMaryGirls on July 18th, 2023 that reads in its entirety (though combined where appropriate and tweet numbers removed for condensing):

This is for the strikers everywhere since I'm nowhere near a picket line. This is the least I can do:

I am an EMT in Florida, one of the hottest states in the country on a regular basis. These are things you can do to protect yourself from the heat

1. Water

Water is great, your body needs it to live. You can go longer without food than you can without water. It's vital. If you become too dehydrated you can lapse into something called Hypovolemic shock which is the most dangerous form of shock because, usually, by the time you realize something is wrong, you're already in a bad position.

When you sweat, you're not just losing water. You're also losing salt, potassium, chloride, magnesium, & calcium. To combat this, you should drink something with electrolytes.

You can also eat a banana in order to avoid cramping that can occur with the loss of potassium. You don't want to be the one doing the Charley Horse Hustle on the line when people have phone cameras. You can also eat fruit and veg with high water content. They helps.

A word of caution about ice water. I know the idea of a big bottle of ice water sounds great when you're sweating your balls off on the line but NO! That can be dangerous. Your body temperature is up due to the heat. You chug a bottle of ice water like you used to do with Smirnoff Ice in college, you'll regret it. Ice water will cause your body temperature to drop which fraks up your homeostasis. You can experience stomach craps, fainting, and, on some weird occasions, cardiac arrest. Face planting on the pavement isn't cute.

One way you CAN use ice water safely is by soaking a t-shirt or towel and putting it on your head to help cool you off. Also, cold rags around the wrists can also cool you down. You've seen construction workers with the t-shirts on their heads? This is why.

2. Whole body

If you get blisters on your feet, you need to treat them. Also, don't force pop them, you're just asking for trouble. When they rupture, they need to be cleaned with soap and water (no alcohol or peroxide) and protected. Band-Aids won't really help here.

Band-Aids can easily slip off and give bacteria a chance to move in and really get gross. Liquid bandage is the better option. It's waterproof but it does sting when you put it on so be warned.

If you experience muscle cramps on the line, you need to deal with them. This is your bodies way of telling you something is wrong. Sit down, drink something. Stretching before picketing can also help prevent them. Let's be honest, as writers, we sit. A LOT.

Going from a cave dwelling hermit to bright sunlight and exercise is going to piss your entire system off. Icy Hot and hot baths will be your friend.

3. Dehydration warning signs.

Muscle cramps

light headed

headaches

feeling very thirsty

dark urine

urinating less often

feeling tired

dry mouth, lips, or tongue

skin tenting

confusion

That's all that I can think of at the moment.

GO FUCK EM UP!!!!!!!

/End ID]

Bonus:

[Image ID: Tweeted comment on the thread from @/sardoniccomment that reads:

Every word of this is good advice, but, as a former desert-dweller, there’s something I need to add: dehydration makes you stupid. It can literally prevent you from being able to figure out the source of your problems is dehydration.

/End ID]

[jinkiezzsstuff]

AAA I really love your alastor movie night story! Any chance you can make a part 3 ? 🥺

Absolutely! so sorry i got to you late but i wasn’t ignoring just preparing! i hope you enjoy this one too, although it’s not movie centred this time, rather a continuation of the last!

Part [1] [2] (although technically it could be read as a stand alone)

Summary: Alastor wasn’t proud of his admission during the movie night, instead he decided to treat you to a surprise date, one where he can get a better feeling on what his emotions are.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol drinking, Alastor who’s not pleased with romantic emotions, possibly ooc?, alastor mentions knowing french, homie manipulates the surroundings with his magic, no bodytype/hairtype/skin colour mentions, i think that’s it! lmk!

word count: 2.4k

Alastor wasn’t too familiar with the current feeling he was experiencing, but he knew it was related to romance. The way his heart thumped, and his mind always seemed to fall back to thought of you that night. You seemed to be highly interested in him, not only as a powerful overlord, but as his less interesting mortal self, and that made not only his ego kick start but his heart. After the stunt he pulled, telling you he loved you, and kissing you softly, he knew he was in trouble.

He thanked all the unholy that the next day you didn’t seem to spread the news like wildfire around the hotel, however he did speak to Rosie about such affairs, as she would be the one to know best. The trip was like any others he took to Rosie’s but this time he got plentiful advice concerning love, romance, dates and the other unsavoury aspects he mentioned he’d rather hear little of.

That brought him to tonight, in his room was a make up of land that was much like the foliage he had back in his home in New Orleans. Since you seemed very interested in his home life, he decided to set up a date around it, show you a little of what his home was like. It made him feel sickeningly domestic, preparing to show you something near and dear to his heart, like opening up his memories and displaying them just for you. He set up nice wood table for the two of you to eat at, with some of his favourite dishes set out, even the deserts he wasn’t a fan of he laid out just in case you wanted to try some.

Around his room sprung up some weeping willow trees, the wooden floor turned to dirt as well as grass, and the forest that was once there became a bayou, what you were so curious about during the movie. He decided to share some of his other past, voodoo artifacts he replicated from his past life, some old songs he was a big fan of, as well as one of his old dictionaries that had both French and English. Alastor made some other arrangements, his shadows were forced to play jazz, he magicked some fireflies to light up the false sky above, he essentially created an illusion of the woods near his home, aside from the bayou.

Closing the door to his bedroom he materialised his microphone tossing it up once before taking a confident stride. It was time to put on the southern charm he knew he could effortlessly woo you with. As he sauntered down the hall he began to get more nervous, after all that night was all about the movie, what if it wasn’t true what you had said?

He didn’t have time to dwell, lifting his hand he knocked rhythmically on your door, waiting patiently as you shuffled around. Opening the door, you were shocked to trail your eyes across the radio demon, you half expected to see Angel, as he’s been pestering you ever since he picked up on you eyeing Alastor more often. Fixing your posture you smiled at him, feeling a little self conscious that he caught you at a time you looked, well, not great. You were in leisure clothes, relaxed and had been laying in bed all day.

“How’re you Alastor, can I help ya?” You ask, quirking your head to the side. Alastor barged into your room pushing past you, perhaps when you first met him you’d be unsettled but you’ve come to love Alastor’s presence and the way he carried himself; even the tad bit annoying aspects like barging in uninvited. “Oh my dear I am just fantastical! And I was oh so hoping you’d join me for dinner tonight?” Your eyebrows raised as you shut the bedroom door, Alastor had been in your room before but he noted little upgrades like a record player, some photos of you and the group plastered against a mirror.

You looked down at your attire, and looked to the clock. “Uhm, like how soon is dinner? I look a mess Al.” You sighed softly not wanting to reject him but also immediately feeling pressure to be and look your best. Alastor flicked his wrist, tossing his head back in disbelief. “Please my dear don’t think of me so lowly.” Before you can respond to his random comment he snapped his fingers and suddenly you body felt hugged by new fabrics. Gazing down at yourself you were greeted by formal garments that were clearly from the late nineteen twenties.

Smiling softly at the gesture you looked up at Al who was already looking at you through lidded eyes, his hands clasped in front of him. “You look wonderful darling, truly.” Although still boisterous sounding, it was a lot more tame and meaningful than his prior theatrics. Alastor couldn’t deny the way he felt looking at you doused in clothes from his time, it made him feel something firey within him. Slowly he offered his hand to you, a charming smile upon his face. “Shall we dear?”

Now you both stood at Alastor’s bedroom door, he was tense and nervous about how you’d react. Regardless of how he presented himself with his suit and his pious demeanour, he was still that louisiana man who had a big heart for his home and the culture surrounding it and didn’t want judgement surrounding some of his favourite aspects about home like the cricket noises, swamp, and of course the food. It was a new and interesting worry since being in hell as he didn’t really worry about his past life since, but the night you two shared opened his eyes.

Finally pulling himself together Alastor pushed opened the bedroom door, stepping aside with a ‘ladies first’. It was gorgeous, the moment you walked it you were hypnotized. Obviously, Alastor grew up in the more outback of New Orleans since his entire aesthetic was mossy forests and obviously the deer hunting, however this was a beauty beyond compare. There was a mock up night sky above, firefly’s lit the way to a small table displayed with foods. There was tall and short grass all around, as well as willow trees that sagged low dusting the ground with their leaves. On the furthest side of the room, on the other side of the table, there was a bayou you could see as you walked in. On the mossy murky water there were lilipads with frogs croaking out, that paired with the crickets gave a soothing camp like ambiance.

Grinning widely, Alastor smiled, pulling your chair out for you to sit. Once seated he sat across from you, you were glad it wasn’t one of those long tables but something closer and personal, where you could still reach over and touch him. “I thought since you seemed to enjoy that movie so much, y’know, I can’t show you my home but i can show you parts of it.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, you had no idea how he did it, and you took another sweep around the room soaking up all that you could see. “Alastor, this is amazing! I can’t express my gratitude and also excitement that you were willing to do all this.” You admit getting shyer as the sentence went on; the weight of the act dawning on you. Alastor hummed, eyes closed as well as his smile, and to you it seemed like his typical indifference he was keen on displaying, however the truth was Alastor had no clue how to properly respond to it. You had inadvertently pointed out the fact he went out of his way for you, with his magic on top of that, and that wasn’t something he was proud of.

Snapping his fingers, the shadows he’d forced into musicians began their strumming, and singing. You jumped a bit at the sound, although you did recognize the song being played, which surprised you. “So Al, can I ask what possessed you to pull this together?” Alastor, who was in the middle of serving the two of you some red wine, paused briefly, if you looked close enough at his smile and his eyes you’d be able to see the hesitancy behind them.

Closing the bottle he placed it back on the table, and took a sip, stalling his response. “My dear, we had quite the night together didn’t we? That movie opened up some interesting doors.” The non answer-answer Alastor gave you made you a tad bit nervous. Saying nothing you sipped your wine, and took in his appearance. Despite the date being a formal situation, he was dressed more relaxed, not by much this was Alastor. However he did have his suit jacket set aside, he wore a washed out looking red button up, with his red vest and he still had his tie on. It was quite the rare sight, you’ve barely seen him look normal, he’s always playing that character that’s immune to everything others aren’t; no matter if it were demons or humans.

Deciding that it was better to enjoy your time with him then pester about his intentions; you knew who Alastor was and the horrific things he could do, and you still chose to ignore it. It’s more fun that way. Digging into your food the two of you made small talk, mainly Alastor as he explained certain dishes and tid bits on his mothers version of the cooking, as well as certain voodoo topics and misconceptions. The longer the wine set in, the more you flirted, and although Alastor wasn’t as affected by the wine as you were, he still returned the gestures with a soft smile.

“I didn’t know you spoke french, what?” You leaned on the table resting the side of your head on your palm, the food that was once on the table gone. “Yes my dear! New Orleans is bilingual.” The deer laughed cheerily at the awe and wonder in your eyes, as if it was such a spectacular thing. “That’s pretty hot, y'know laddies n lads love the french language.” Taking another sip of your wine, Alastor followed in suit, sipping his wine smile relaxed. “I really only care for what you think.” With the deep hushed tone he said the sentence in, made heat crawl from your neck to the pit of your stomach. “Well I think it’s pretty hot.”

You bit your nail watching Alastor’s ears twitch at your words. “Such gamy words dear, couldn’t you express yourself through more appropriate terms?” Alastor chided playfully, wiggling his figure at you. You grinned, biting your lip with mischief in mind. Tapping your lip, you looked up, giving an exaggerated impression that you were in a contemplative state. Then, perking up, finger in the air with a ‘light bulb’ expression you sarcastically spoke. “My dearest Alastor, your ability to converse in French, seduces me. Better?”

Alastor hummed gently, shaking his head side to side. “I’m afraid that’s still rather forward of you dear.” After speaking Alastor tipped his glass finishing his wine. “I hope that wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” You say cautiously worried that he may be serious, embarrassed you leaned back in your seat distancing yourself just slightly. Alastor felt a ping of distaste hit him when you retracted your body, and he had to refrain himself from pulling or beckoning you back in. “Not at all, if i was you’d surely know.” The ominous grit he got when threatening people made an appearance, but didn’t last long before he relaxed. Deciding to push forward, he stood, ushering his shadows away from playing songs, he walked over to you offering his arm. “Would you like to see the bayou you were so enthralled with? The real deal?”

Alastor looked down at you through lidded eyes, his tone silken. As you looked up at him you could get a peek of his tail flicking back and forth methodically. Taking him by the arm you stood, and so he guided you away from the table as the room morphed with hazy black shadows into a different scene. The two of you now stood on a dock, looking out on the bayou, fireflies flickered by, crickets and cicadas made their ambient noises, the water would occasionally splash with a fish, it was beautiful. “So Al,” You start nervously, looking at the demon who still held you close via your interlocked arms.

Alastor hummed a static sounding hum looking down at you. “Uh, I, well remember what you said the night we split from the movie?” Alastor’s brow quirked, smirked down at you he strung out a yes that sounded teasing, of course he knew where this conversation was going, but at this point in the night he’d gotten more comfortable with the idea of it. “I was wondering, if you still meant it?” Alastor nodded slowly looking into the murky waters of the bayou, looking a little zoned out. “Yes, I do think so. I’m certain if you’d ask me to kill for you I would, if you needed my help I’d help, if you’d ask for my advice I’d give it. I'm not familiar with many aspects of love but I'm definitely fond enough of you to do a laundry list of things I wouldn't do for others.”

Alastor turned his body to you, gently willing your own to do the same with both his hands on your shoulders. With his head lifted high he looked down at you through his lashes, a coy smile appearing on his lips at the sight of your sudden bashfulness. With a soft hand, he lifted your chin to gaze at him. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something addictive in the way you made him feel and the way you were so responsive to him, be it his touch or his words. Oh he knew he liked you now, unfortunate state of events for him.

Watching your eyes blink up at him patiently made him solidify what he was going to do. Bending to your level, he looked into your eyes making sure you fully understood what he was planning on doing, briefly your eyes bounced around his face making sure you were reading him correctly and when you were certain your eyes fluttered he closed the window of space between you. Compared to the chaste kiss he gave you the night of the movie, this one could’ve been considered ravenous, he pulled you close almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your torso and neck. Your hands cautiously came up around his waist and up to his back pulling him nearer.

Alastor’s movements were slow and thought through, and when he pulled away from the passionate kiss, he immediately pulled you into a hug to hide the emotion he knew would be in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be that vulnerable yet, but in due time, perhaps he’d try.

[robobarbie]

I'm sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if you have any advice on bringing a character concept into a consistent, compelling character. I have so many character concepts, but I always struggle with giving them unique, consistent identities and voices, and you're so great at that. Thank you so much for creating such wonderful stories!

u r too kind to me. i am no expert, but this is generally my strategy when i'm writing/creating characters:

Remember that characters are more than stereotypes. If I'm making an FFXIV player who loves to shill, I'm not going to make shilling all that he is. That's how you get one-note characters that get a little boring. I try to picture a three dimensional personality that fits around that, even if all parts of it aren't used in text. Like, if I picture all the people who have shilled FFXIV to me over the years, what do they have in common? Quieter IRL, a bit tired of bullies, bad eating habits, etc etc.

Find a way to connect it to something you're familiar with. You write what you know best. If your character is an architecture student, but you know nothing about it, do some research about the field while also connecting that love of architecture he has with a love you might have for something else. You'll be able to write about his love for it more believably if you're tying it to something else you yourself adore.

Life hack: base the character on a person you know in real life. When you base characters off of characters that already exist, I think you run the risk of it not feeling authentic (but that's not always the case). The entire cast of BP was based on a server I was in ages ago -- the characters weren't carbon copies of the people I knew, but those people were good reference points for typing style and initial personality quirks for them all.

Find the fine line between similar characters and emphasize that. Felix already gets a lot of comparisons to Onionthief (deservedly so) but we're making them distinct in the following ways: Felix is colder, Onionthief is less mature, Onionthief is bullied more often in chat than Felix is, Felix is quieter, Felix is less judgmental of mistakes, etc. You find those deeper details that really separate characters and create... well, back to point #1. You create three-dimensional people that could exist in real life.

Edit to add: talk a lot to strangers. You will learn a lot about the variety of people in the world, and the way they interact realistically, if you brave the world and meet new people.

ramble over

[fruitzbasket]

twiyor eden au headcanons 📚

• [redacted] adopted the name loid after imigrating to ostania with his mother, partly for assimilation reasons and partly because he wanted a fresh start. his mother changed her name as well so he wouldn't feel alone in that.

• loid achieved the highest score in eden's admission tests to date. there was quite a bit of opposition to him joining the prestigious school, but ultimately it was decided that a flow of students between both countries could be a good step toward peace. that's how the characters from westalis are accepted into eden.

• yor is not particularly academically gifted, but she's insanely physically gifted. an increasing number of sports trophies in eden's trophy room are only there because yor was part of the team. she excels at sports.

• no one really wants to approach a guy from westalis first and loid isn't particularly talkative. he keeps mostly to himself—until this girl in class speaks to him. apparently, the teacher paired them together for class. not that loid hears her at first, too fixated thinking she'sprettyshe'sreally pretty. they finish their activity without any issues, and yor admits that she's been wanting to approach him for weeks because he looked lonely on his own.

• franky is in a different class, fiona is his junior, and sylvia is his senior.

• yor herself doesn't have many friends (and the ones she does have aren't all that nice to her), so she can empathize with loid. while loid himself didn't feel lonely, he finds yor quite pleasant to be around. they quickly grow close.

• loid's favorite subjects are history and literature. yor's favorite subjects are pe and arts.

• yor's parents aren't home a lot of the time. she ends up going to loid's mom for advice/help.

• i've never had those so i'm not sure what they're called, but you know those classes where students learn how to take care of a household (as in, doing cooking, finance management, etc)? so, that's where loid finds out just how terrible yor is at cooking. he exchanges their dishes so she won't get scolded by their teacher. yor gets quite emotional about it and vows to do better.

• it's not uncommon for loid to bring cookies he's baked to yor. since they can't eat them during classes, they try to be subtle about it. it turns out they're great at being sneaky.

• yor's grades start improving after spending time with loid. in turn, loid is not as stressed anymore. they balance each other out.

• when he starts thinking of yor in a less platonic way, he does absolutely nothing about it. it's yor that holds his hand first. she pulled her hand away in 0.2 seconds, but she did it! he becomes a little braver after that. not much though. he might get kicked. it happened to some guy that confessed to yor, or so he heard.

• he thinks he might kiss yor during a summer school festival, but she almost passes out after eating from the same spoon as him.

• high-school age loid has real beef with middle-school age yuri. it's a little embarrassing for him.

[leossmoonn]

dilf | mike schmidt

summary - mike as a dad

warnings / includes - reader is fem. otherwise fluff :D (also there’s so much background and plot like sorry not sorry lol I really like to ramble)

————

if there’s another fnaf movie… mike needs to be a dad. i know that’s not the plot at all and wouldn’t make sense, but i think the box office would benefit from that!

mike is already kind of a dad. he’s been raising abby for a few years now. he wouldn’t consider himself any type of caregiver because well, he thinks he’s quite terrible. and the term ‘brother’ is so much less daunting than ‘dad’. so when you two found out you were pregnant, he felt more fear than excitement. it wasn’t a surprise really. you two hadn’t been using condoms as regularly, but he was more stunned that now he was going to be a father and he was terrified.

regardless of how he felt, he supported you in every way possible during pregnancy. he was literally perfect. dude did the bare minimum and more! every day he would ask what you wanted to eat each day, no matter how weird the cravings were, and he would try his best to honor them. he gave you massages, went on walks with you, talked to the baby, went on doctor appointments with you — he even scheduled extra ones when you weren’t feeling well because he was so scared of you or the baby dying or something.

and after the whole freddy’s pizzeria fiasco — glad you weren’t pregnant during that lmao — he was able to get a job as a sales associate and become a manager with the help of him taking some online college courses. (you definitely helped with convincing him he was good enough to go back). abby was making new friends at her school and even helping you out when you were pregnant: making desserts for you, giving you advice on baby clothes, already making plans with the baby to play house or dress up. things were looking up.

until you give birth.

now, as we mentioned, mikey poo was a little nervous when he found out you were pregnant. and things went so well with your pregnancy, he kind of forgot to think about what it was actually going to be like when the baby was here. he was about to shit his pants fr while you were giving birth. but then they put the baby in your arms and everything just came together for him. cliché to say, i know, but it’s real!!!! and god, when he finally got to hold his baby, he was wrapped around her little finger. (i’d like to think he’s a girl dad — we already kind of see that with abby). she has mike’s big brown eyes and your cute nose. she looks exactly like a mix between the two of you.

for the first few months, mike was more focused on you than the baby. don’t get me wrong! he’s great father, but he just had that mindset that everyone wanted to take care of the baby: your parents, vanessa, even abby, but nobody was taking care of you. (doesn’t that just make your ovaries scream??) so he made it his mission to help you out with everything he could, on top of the baby, which he absolutely didn’t mind. lowk, mike is a house wife.

in the night, you two would trade shifts for the baby. there were times where he knew you were so tired from breastfeeding and just taking care of the baby during the day in general — he had to work full time still to be able to provide for you guys — that he would take full night shifts and let you sleep. it was basically like working at freddy’s so….

when you started going back to work, mike would make sure the laundry was done, house was always clean, each meal was made, abby got to one place or another. of course, he spent as much time taking care of the baby as he did with other things, but you were just under so much stress and he felt as though the best thing he could do for you was take most of the mental load. soon you became accustomed with being a mom and soon your workloads were basically evenly split.

okay enough of the background.

mike loves playing with the baby. sooo crazy, right? lol. he loves doing tummy time with her, playing peek-a-boo, talking in funny voices. he also loved picking out outfits for her, even though he actually has no sense of fashion and you quickly banned him from buying anything in the store. i think his favorite thing to do with his baby girl is making her laugh. ugh! baby laughs are so cute in general, and it just made his whole world. unlike everyone in the world, besides you and sometimes abby, no one really liked mike. well, no one gave him a chance and to be fair, he didn’t really let them. it wasn��t until he met you where we felt complete and whole and happy and not afraid of risks. and it wasn’t until the baby where he felt a true sense of purpose and he was happy with how his life turned out.

his absolute favorite sight in the world is seeing you, abby, and the baby play. the house has never been filled with as much joy as it is when y’all are playing. everyone’s giggling, teasing each other, fawning over the baby. its literally like the perfect family he never got to have :,).

he also absolutely adores you as a mom. he thinks you are the best mom ever. and of course he should think that anyways, but he believes it with his whole being. being a first time mom, you were nervous of course. but in the first month, all you did was berate yourself for not being a good mom and not knowing your baby’s needs, but with mike’s reassurance and time, you gained more and more confidence.

when the baby starts going to daycare, mike is actually terrified. he starts to look for jobs he can do at home because he’s so scared that what happened with garrett is going to happen to his baby. but with multiple background checks, questions, lowk spying, he tries to trust the daycare center you two choose.

random note before i stop talking. mike is a sleepy guy and so is the baby. the two often nap together with the baby on top of his stomach. AH. looks so cute. sometimes his hand is on her head or back, or her little fingers are wrapped around his thumb. you have countless of pictures of them in this one situation. i’d like to think mike doesn’t really sleep when the baby is on his stomach because he’s afraid she’s gonna fall or he will roll over, but he stays as calm and quiet as he can so she can rest.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Any weird Soul Society specific superstions for care and maintenance of one's Zanpaktou?

There's a joke rumor that goes around Shinigami Academy that if you've tried everything else and your zanpaktou STILL isn't talking to you, you can always try getting into mortal danger so it has to come out and save your ass to save your own. The faculty loudly maintains that is false and even considering it is a great way to fuck up your spiritual connection with it. The problem is that unfortunately, the rumor is true- even the most stubborn zanpaktou tend to have at least one survival instinct and will force their wielders to fight their way out of a life-or-death situation. But the teachers are right that it WILL permanently fuck up your relationship with a sword if you intentionally harm yourself for it's attention, and it's important to note that just because your zanpaktou manifested, that doesn't mean either of you are strong or skilled enough to get out of your dipshit situation you caused.

A more commonly advised bonding practice is to practice putting trust in your sword and learning about its preferences by picking one day a month where it's in charge and you do everything it says. EVERYTHING. If your sword tells you to walk off a cliff, start walking - the key here is to teach the sword spirit that not only do you trust it, it's also responsible for you and can't go around giving you bad advice for shits and giggles. Most sword spirits never ask their wielders to do something dangerous, but they do ask to go see a weird movie or for their person to eat an unusual food so they can taste it by proxy, and thus the wielder gets used to trusting them and thinking of the spirit as a person unto themselves.

Doing proper maintenance on your weapon is an important bonding activity and the first time a zanpaktou has to be taken to a smithy to be properly re-sharpened is often a nerve-wracking experience for both sword and shinigami, a bit like a child's first doctor's appointment.

A practice that is not *recommended* but most people do anyway and that works is sharing gossip. Sword spirits can see each other when they choose to manifest, and have friendships and rivalries and THAT BITCH FROM THAUMATURGY CLASS YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE - and likewise, since sword spirits spend so much time resting they want to hear all the updates on the wielder's friends and family and rivals and OH MY GOD YOU NEED TO HEAR WHAT THAT MORON WHO TEACHES O-CHEM DID NOW-

Sometimes, a sword will bond with someone very deeply, very fast. There's a superstition that shinigami who bond with and master their zanpaktou quickly are either destined for greatness or to burn out and drop out of the court guard just as fast. Neither is true, actually. They're not prone to grand destiny or burnout any more than people who take a normal or long time to bond with their zanpaktou. They are more likely to get thrown out of the guard for really weird crimes though.

On the other end of the spectrum, if it takes a long time to bond with your zanpaktou, there might be something wrong with you. The rumor isn't *totally* unfounded- the main thing that keeps people from bonding with others is, you know, unresolved emotional issues, the same thing that prevents less stabby relationships. But it's just as likely that it's the sword is the one that's snake fuckingly crazy.

[rustys-lodge]

His ward.

Summary : Sherlock notices a few changes in you. It's sleep, nutrition and....Other things. You're just simply not okay. What's he going to do about that ?

warnings : Talk about lack of nutrition, a bit of angst, as well as poor behavior caused by lack of sleep. And one mention of physical assault.

A/N : First sherlock fic ! yaaay ! I'm so excited to add a new fandom to the Masterlist . So, as some of you might notice, the scene's the same. Just a few changes of my own to fit the story better. And a much better ending that I'm sure a lot of us wanted !! 😂 For those that don't know the scene. Here it is.

-----

"Did i ask you for advice ? I found you on the street. Drunk."

The man froze, turning to face you in a defeating manner.

"Now what may I observe about you ?"

You shook your head. "We're not playing this game."

Let's rewind a few hours back...Where Sherlock was...standing like a crab, balancing himself to not fall drunken face down on the ground. If you hadn't found him and brought him home....You'd say he would've ended up dead, somewhere in a garbage can.

Now Sherlock, thinks otherwise. Mister great detective says it is he, who helped you. How ? God knows how....

He is also saying you should leave....Which...You don't agree with. He needs the help. His place is a mess. he needs cleaning. He needs someone to help him organize the chaos that he's living in...He needs-

"Your eyes are redder than redder than wine." Sherlock started and you take a step back. "You're much slower than you usually are."

"Like you know what i usually am like, Sherlock." Accusations spilled out of your lips, but Sherlock ignores them, simultaneously talking ober you and analyzing you.

"Your face has lost it's color and your wounds are healing very slow."

"You're one to talk, look at you, your hair's more messed up than a-

"And then there's the irritability, you are less-"

"Stop !" Your index found itself inches away from Sherlock's face. And he stops.

"And then there's your nails." Sherlock's voice decreased into a soft tone, yet the sternness was still there. And before you could move your finger away, his hand reached for it. "Your nails are brittle."

You yanked your hand away at his response. "They are n-"

"I wasn't in such a state as to not see that, Y/N." Sherlock leaned closer to your face, the glare in his eyes freezing you in place. And then he kept on blabbering as he walked away from you. And you couldn't help but insult him back concurrently . "You're neither sleeping nor eating. Why is that ?"

Your throat dried up as his words emerged louder and louder. "Sherlock, you- You-How did you-"

"And." Your brother lifted up his arm. God damn it.... "Your neck is red. Someone has gripped it or held a knife against.." a shaky breath replaced that last little word as realization hit Sherlock, his features emulsifying into a state of shock...

Or was it anger ?

Your hand instantly flew up to cover your neck as your gaze darted to the ground. You couldn't help but think about the product of the aftermath. And as the silence grew louder, the images started-

"Are you involved in something dangerous ?" Sherlock broke the silence. Finally. And you glanced away. "Because you are still my ward." Steps grew closer and a second after that, you found yourself towered over by him.

Your foot staggered back. You...You don't n-need him.

"If you need my help, my offer remains on the table." A soft command is what it was...And you couldn't help but thi- "Don't be so desperate to prove yourself, Y/n."

You faltered, scoffing. Is that was he thought it was ? It was that....But did he have to say it ?

"I am not desperate." A fake spark of triumph electrified you. And you found yourself turning on your heels. "And i don't need your- or anyone's hel-"

"Not so fast."

You turned around, somewhat thrilled. "What ?" You spa out.

You might've gotten thrilled. But that doesn't mean you were going to show that to him ?

Your brother threw a glance at you before his gaze fell down. His giant slumped shoulders gave away the desperation and the deceit he was feeling.

Your heart stung at the sight of it.

"What ?" You repeated yourself, a bit louder. Impatience was growing thicker in you. You....Yo-

"If you insist my help is not needed, than i will serve you a plate and i shall observe you e-"

What ? "No!" He can't do that to you !! you're not a pet !

Sherlock raised his hand, motioning for you to stop. "To make sure you are well nurt-"

"No. No." But his attempt to defend himself failed, as you cut him off again, shaking your head violently. How could you not ?? What kind of suggestion is that-

"And you'll sleep here tonight. And then tomorrow you're free to...Not ever come back."

His words pierced through your heart.

"No."

"Okay." Sherlock condensed. And you squinted your eyes at his mischievous s- "Then you're not going anywhere."

There is it ! You...You knew it. Rolling your eyes at him, you tilted your head back as frustration swept over you. "No."

"I'm sorry. But"

"No" You shrugged, turning on your heels. You were not having any of it. Not the accusations, not the suggestion...Nothing. And Sherlock was quite different from Mycroft...He was gentler, sweeter. More loving. That meant : His opinion doesn't matter. After all, who's h-

"Hey !"

You flinched at the sudden yell that echoed through the room. Sherlock's voice was consumed by anger. Hoarse and low, the yell only made whimper unconsciously...And you thanked god your brother was far enough not to hear it. He better not have heard it...

"But Sherlock i-You can't withhold me h-"

"I am not withholding you, sister, I am only seeking your safety and your well-being." The detective's voice simmered down again, almost mirroring yours. The only difference is that you sounded almost weak. He sounded...collected.

"I-"

"If." Sherlock's voice filled the room again. "you do step out of that door, the consequences of that will be solely your responsibility to bear." The softness in his voice sent chills down your spine, as behind it hid a dark pitch that...You weren't sure you wanted to hear again.

With two fingers slightly curved around the door handle, your eyes dart from handle to Sherlock....You reconsidered....Stay and risk him finding out ?(Choice 1) Or Leave and risk...Whatever he has in mind for you ?(Choice 2)

-----

Tell me which choice would you choose ? if anobody wants to be tagged for part 2 tell me. ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹

[cloudcountry]

what if azul followed the sea witch's advice for courting on land (and i KNOW she only talks about women in relation to men but just disregard that okay just assume this would apply to all merfolk)

"You'll have your looks, your pretty face.

And don't underestimate the importance of body language, ha!

The men up there don't like a lot of blabber

They think a girl who gossips is a bore!

Yet on land it's much prefered for ladies not to say a word

And after all dear, what is idle babble for?

Come on, they're not all that impressed with conversation

True gentlemen avoid it when they can

But they dote and swoon and fawn

On a lady who's withdrawn

It's she who holds her tongue who get's a man."

LIKE WHAT IF AZUL THINKS YOU'LL LIKE HIM MORE IF HE SHOWS IT THROUGH BODY LANGUAGE INSTEAD OF TALKING....

so when you walk into the mostro lounge or whatever he sits next to you, points his body towards you, makes eye contact but says nothing. he says absolutely nothing and yet he acts like he's WAITING for something and you're like ????? what?????

and then the LEECH TWINS see whats going on and make fun of azul and he defends ursula's words with his LIFE saying that the great sea witch was a wise and powerful woman so OBVIOUSLY she would know how to woo surface dwellers!!! even if your ways of courting are odd!!!

obviously the leech twins just sit and watch him struggle while you eat your food and wonder why the fuck hes just sitting there staring at you. he gets frustrated because you're not picking up on his hints at all and thats when floyd suggests he try to get more physical with a shit eating grin on his face.

THEN azul is like "why would i do that?!" but no less than a day later and he's using his suave businessman charms on you by...holding your hand.

and you look happy.

it seems the sea witch was right. but azul could stand to communicate with you a little more. perhaps two sneaky mermen will have to give him another push.

[raythekiller]

🗒 ❛ Personality Headcanons ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: just my general take on the creeps. hope y'all enjoy! requests open :)

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

He's a total fucking prick, for a lack of better word. He doesn't care about other's feelings, he thinks he's better than everyone so he's "allowed" to treat people badly, and he has anger issues to top that. Protesting against his bad treatment is gonna earn you some screaming at best and some blood spilled at worst, depending entirely on his mood.

He has the potential to be a good friend and person in general, he just doesn't want to. However, you might catch him trying to awkwardly comfort Toby or Ben when they have mental breakdowns. Well, not as much "comfort" but more of a shy pat on the back and a "Stop being a little bitch" comment, but that's his way of showing that he cares. Take it or leave.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Generally a pretty chill guy. He's not an extrovert, but he's still fairly outgoing when it comes to meeting new people (when he does leave his room, that is. He's kind of a shut in). Since he died when he was about twelve, I think he's forever stuck into the pre-pubescent boy mentality, so he can be quite the little shit.

That means he's also kind of a pervert and just immature in general. The type to play certain games just to gawk at the female character's slutty outfits and make fart jokes. He can also be very sarcastic and witty when he wants to, just a total smartass. Also, he's a pothead.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Probably one of, if not the nicest creep in the manor. Very upbeat and cheerful, at least most of the time. As someone that has bipolar disorder, it personally doesn't make me very violent and as unstable as Toby is canonically said to be. What does make me does things though is my BPD, so I headcanon he has that as well. He's all sunshine and rainbows until someone says something in a slightly off tone and suddenly he's screaming and throwing his hatchets at the fucking wall.

That also means he's extremely clingy. He wants every last bit of attention he can get and is extremely possessive of people he likes. And, while he is nice most of the time, when he's having an episode he's probably the most cold and cruel person you'll ever met.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

One of the most chill creeps. He's not aggressive and kills only when he needs to eat, and tries to make it quick and painless for the victim. He eats any organs, not just kidneys. Also, he's a fucking great cook, Hannibal Lecter style. He really likes reading and is extremely intelligent, probably knows two or more languages, and is probably the most mature member of the manor after Slenderman.

He's not actually blind, but he's not not blind either. He sees the temperature of things instead of the actual object. He hates drama and argument and loud noises, so he normally stays away from the other creeps (especially our favorite trio, Jeff, Ben and Toby), but he gets along really well with Jane.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Another prick, though a more reserved one than Jeff. He's a perfectionist and natural leader, so he expects everyone to obey him without questions and no mistakes allowed. He has this rivalry going on with Toby because, even though he's the leader and Slenderman's right hand, he feels the tall guy has a certain favoritism or soft spot when it comes to Toby (which is true).

He gets very aggressive after missions and just wants to be left alone for at least a few hours, just until he calms down a little. After he's rested, he's actually pretty decent to be around, becoming less defensive and more accepting of others.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

The coolest guy ever. He's calm but great to be around and is always willing to listen to others when they need to vent. He's kind of the manor's therapist and gives great advice. He's mute, so he talks either through sign language or writing down on paper. He also plays guitar and likes to write his own songs sometimes. Ben and Sally really look up to him as a kind of cool uncle.

Since he's so level headed, he's always the one to calm Masky down when he's being a bit much. Toby really appreciates this, since he's normally getting the short end of Masky's bad moods. As mentioned, he's great with the younger members of the manor and just kids in general and they all love him. The type of uncle to give them candy while saying "Don't tell your parents" playfully.

[feathernotes]

BACKGROUNDS IN WEBCOMICS

I want to talk about sustainability in your work process, featuring our fave: Backgrounds. How to simplify, convey, and deliver in comics! (examples include Phantomarine, Wychwood, Shaderunners and Ghost Junk Sickness) The usual suspect to burnout is often the workload involved. Many ppl who FULL HAM on pages that def need a detail cut for many reasons Main one being: You don’t need excessive detail to tell whats happening in a small panel, in fact, less is better. When you observe a page in its entirety, where does the eye travel? Where does the eye stop? Having a fully rendered BG in multiple panels can actually be a huge distraction, on top of the time it takes to get there. So how do you balance?

In Phantomarine, the most detailed panel is the establishing one, it holds our characters and allows readers to understand the positions they're all in/standing at. Its one panel that provides a specific telling detail: the railings behind Phae indicate we're on the boat.

In the bottom left panel,the artist uses the railings again, but doesnt have to render the lights, floor boards, or sea to show where we were, then uses the colours of said BG and mood to paint the rest of the page. This is where colours/gradients and small objects save the day! The same example is here, just flipped. The establishing shot shares DETAILS that you need to show the readers where we are, then the BG of Pavel eating food isnt over whelmed with background characters or other details that get in the way of the ACTION that is to be conveyed

it would be rather distracting if we were to see Pavel eat that bowl, with sooo many more details involved in the panel- instead, the drapes, hues of light, and clever sound effects tell us what is happening. Wychwood does the very same with establishing shots, then KEY DETAILS to provide the reader with where the character is standing, without sacrificing the facial expressions and details of the CHARACTERS that we need to get across

Most detail is in the top panel, the BAR that Julian holds onto is a KEY PIECE to show where they are in the BG already established. Perfect use of BG! Get used to thinking of those key details when changing scenes and establishing shots!

Pick those key details to tell the reader where they are and draw that. If you have a library scene, please just draw that BG once! Take a specific bookcase or key feature, use blocked shapes and colours, and make it less detailed than the provided establishing shot. I also wanna talk about : Action Scenes Focusing on the ACTION of the scenes is SO important when you have them, and often details get lost when a creator focuses on details that can distract a reader! My advice? Most action scenes are best without/need little backgrounds. A few shots from Ghost Junk Sickness demonstrate this. We're paying attention to the action- we've been established where we are before, so let's play in the sandbox now.

Have a panel or two peppered in there, with the same principal as above to ground where your character is, but do not add a BG in every panel. It instantly takes away from the action when it's not integrated as well, and it takes SO MUCH MORE TIME to draw that sequence!

Read More amazing tips: Here are some GREAT examples by the creators of ShadeRunners, HERE who break down how they do backgrounds ( AND CROWD SHOTS!!!!)

TL;DR: Comics are a MULTITUDE of skills and needs. It takes a lot of time and work to pull it off, so working with methods that make it easiest for you as the creator is what will help you maintain that momentum and stability you need! Good luck and get comicking!

[euniexenoblade]

I may have asked you this before, and I'm really sorry, so I'm gonna be on anon for this. I. hate. cleaning. I've always hated cleaning. I just...have some strange aversion to cleaning. When I'm elsewhere, I clean just fine. But when it's my own stuff and area...I just avoid it for as long as possible. Executive dysfunction really sucks. What advice do you have that you can give me?

Executive dysfunction is tough, because it's really really hard to get around sometimes. Nothing I say will be a sure fire way to get through it, but I hope something I say can be helpful.

First of all, do not expect that you'll clean the whole house or anything. Just focus on a small amount at a time. Doesn't even have to be a whole room. Make it like, "today I will take care of x in the bathroom." It'll be so much easier. Maybe do like, one task a day if possible, and allow yourself to not keep up with that. You're allowed to skip chores, it's not the end of the world.

I like to open up the windows and let sunlight in, I also really like to blast music (or headphones if need be) and just go for it. I approach it like a jog, activity i need to power through and music is the energy. Serious about that sunlight, it wakes you up and brightens the mood.

As I said, start small. Is there garbage in your room? Pick it up and throw it out. There you go, there's one task. You can call it done there if you want. Do you have dishes scattered around your room? Pick em up and put them in the sink. There you go! A whole new task completed!

If the trash needs to go out, take it out when you leave the house. On your way to work? Take the trash out on the way. Gonna check the mail? Take the trash out.

Dishes can be daunting but if you break it into smaller tasks it can be a lot more manageable. When I'm at my girlfriend's house I tend to do the dishes immediately following the meal. (This is largely cuz they have so few dishes in general and so they're available when we want to eat next buuuut) This makes it so dishes don't stack up. Washing one bowl and one spoon and maybe a pan is a lot less work than a collected stack. You could also just load dishes into a dishwasher (assuming you have one) as you go. A lot of people don't do this which kinda always surprises me, but if you finish your meal, immediately when getting up, put the dishes in the dishwasher. No wait. Just do it. Dishes can't stack if they're already in the machine that's going to clean them.

Executive dysfunction is really hard to get around sometimes, and I'm sorry if none of this actually helped. But, with a lot of things with low energy or depression, you gotta kinda just make yourself do it. I know that seems redundant, "I can't make myself do it that's why it's a problem" but it is genuinely true. Sometimes you gotta just force it to happen. It's ok not to always be on top of everything. It's ok if today you just can't do it. It's ok if there are things you can't do and need help. Don't beat yourself up over it, that's not gonna help. Remember that it's ok to take breaks and not finish tasks.

Reward yourself. After you do the thing, do something you like. Eat chocolate, watch that show you've been waiting for, get high, whatever you want. (I like to take a big hot bath with a lush bath bomb, it's a great reward hehe~)

Buy a maid uniform, lots of people have told me that helps them power through chores :)

I don't know if any of that will help, but I hope it does.

Also, while I'm doing this, back on my last blog I wrote a post in reply to an ask of "how exactly do I clean my room" and I haven't been able to find it. So I think it'd be good to recreate it here. This is a lot more intensive, so anon plz don't feel inclined to do any of this. This is entirely for if people have the energy and ability, a bit closer to what I do.

Put on music. Absolutely the most important thing is having fun with it. Put on that song you like to sing along to, or that song you like to dance to, get yourself some energy. Jam the fuck out.

This is big optional, so feel free to skip this one if you don't want to do it. If you have a ceiling fan, wipe the top of the blades. Dust collects there even if you've been using it. But, if you haven't been using it, you don't want to knock all that dust down when you finally do. Go get yourself a duster for like $5 somewhere. If you just can't do that I'd recommend using a dry rag (always use dry things for dusting).

Do you have any dirty clothes? Whether in a hamper or on the floor, pick them up first and get the washer going, do the rest while the washer runs.

Get a trash bag. Do you have any trash in your room? Empty bottles, cans, wrappers, paper, any trash whatsoever: pick it up and put it in the bag.

Do you have any dishes laying around? Pick them up now and put them in the sink.

Wipe down any surfaces that might be dusty. Again, duster or dry rag. You can use paper towels if you want but I feel they're not very good for this task. Now wipe down any that might be dirty, from trash, dishes or whatever. Wet paper towel is allowed if you have no alternative, wet rag is probably better, lysol wipes tend to be my preference, if you're really fancy then you can get specific cleaners for wood and stuff (I wouldn't worry about this if all your shits cheap Ikea or Walmart though).

Whenever the washer finishes, of course move it to the dryer, but also put your bedding in the wash. You're cleaning the whole room, there's no way there isn't gunk on your bedding. This bit is kinda predicated on being able to wash/dry whenever you want. if you're reliant on a laundromat, edit this to whatever makes sense to you.

If you have carpet, I'd recommend to vacuum now. If you don't have a vacuum, no shame but I do recommend them. I wouldn't recommend a Dyson even though they look and seem cool, if you want a decent vacuum just stick to the normal top brands and you'll be fine. If you want one but don't have much money, get one of those small hand ones. If you have a hard floor, swiffer that shit.

You are largely done! Sometimes things may not be this easy but try your best with what you have and it'll be fine. Even doing just one of these things will feel good afterwards. Feel free to take breaks, to stop all together, reward yourself when you're done. It's just cleaning your room, don't think of it as a big deal.