#ANYWAYS enough rambling. hope you enjoy if you click this!

[sherl-grey]

quick fic for the immortal rose girlies 🥰

[indimiart]

just came here from your nievan and astarion comic and it said you love talking about them so hi I want to know more about them :0

hi I do dearly adore them and sometimes I think I’ll never shut up about them so thank you for the ask! 🫶🏼

Nievan was locked in a tower for 70ish years (it’s a long story) and had barely any physical contact during that time. It’s early in he and Astarion’s relationship that he realizes he’s absolutely starved for touch — while at the same time, Astarion’s figuring out his own relationship with physical touch. I like to think they learn how cuddling works together (and at first it’s super awkward, but then something clicks and suddenly they can’t get enough of it).

So at some point the entire party realizes they’re always touching — whether it be their shoulders pressed together, gentle touches to the shoulders and arms, a hand on the hip or waist, a gentle tucking of hair behind an ear, constant little kisses to the forehead and nose and cheek (when they think no one is looking), and of course

Hugs.

Anyway thanks for coming to the ramble I hope you enjoyed

[irisintheafterglow]

...with the big iron on his hip

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: marty robbins - "big iron"

summary: he's not the first to go after the crystal-eyed bandit, but something tells you that this one will keep his promise to buy you a drink when the hunting is done. (cowboy!suguru x you)

wc: 2.47k

cw/tags: western!au, implied fem!reader but gn pronouns used, reader is called pretty and darlin', strangers to lovers (??), descriptions of alcohol, drinking, and general lawlessness

note: yayy another @ficsforgaza installation, this time for @strawberrystepmom <33 thank you so much for donating to help palestinians, i know i went WAY over the word count but i hope you enjoy this anyway!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“You heard about Death riding in this morning?”

“I was told he got back from the east a few days ago. Some business with the big banks,” you reply, your voice a careful volume. Your effort is hardly needed, though, as the saloon was reaching its rowdiest hours of the evening; the smell of chewing tobacco and questionable choices was enough of an indicator. As the bar girls’ heels click-clack on the stage, you wipe the dust off a clean glass and pour its whiskey without another thought, sliding it across the bar.

“Oh, rest assured he did,” says the other bartender, Davey, a jolly-mustached man of about 60 who’d run this saloon since before your parents settled in this town. “But, word is there’s another outlaw loose and runnin’ now. Rode in on a big, black stallion, he did. Old Man Leonard swears the sun done shrunk away from rising.” You roll your eyes with patient affection, listening diligently to Davey ramble on about the rumors surrounding the newcomer. “I’m serious! ‘Stallion black as death,’ that’s what old Lenny said. You trust my word or not?”

“I believe you, I believe you. Though, you did spout a lot of nonsense ‘bout the window creeper last week, too,” you chuckle, holding up your palms in surrender. Davey tuts with a pout, muttering something about you never listening to his warnings anymore. “I wasn’t aware you were cautioning me of anything, Davey. It’s not like I’m gonna go looking for the guy.” You knew the town was a familiar stomping ground for all sorts of no-good creatures, jail breakers and tax collectors and bounty hunters alike. Word of your saloon’s neutrality spread among the underground because of its ‘whiskey or weapons’ policy where no man could carry a firearm through the batwing doors and still be served a drink. Hence, as volatile as the patrons were, honor among thieves guaranteed the saloon the ideal place for meetings and deals. Davey, relishing in the booming business it brought in, didn’t seem to mind the reputation.

“You best believe I’m cautioning you,” he insists, waggling a finger. “Whether you like it or not, you always seem to attract the eye of the most vile manner of people.” 

“I do not–” A drunken shout cuts your indignance short, a slurred exclamation of Who the Devil is that! 

As if on cue, the saloon falls into silence broken only by the sound of creaking floorboards. The girls on stage crowd up the staircase, hiding in the shadows; a stack of poker chips topples over at a corner table. 

“When have you known me to be wrong,” Davey mutters, his question becoming more of a statement as the wood continues to groan under the steps of the interloper. Knowing that the saloon guests would be looking to him to react, his tense demeanor is replaced by warmth before you can blink. “What happened to the music, boys? The night’s just beginning!” He calls out to the band, who immediately begin plucking their banjos and dancing across the keys of the out-of-tune upright piano. Normal cacophony continues with an uproar, drowning out the sound of approaching boots until he’s right in front of you. 

“You got a beer, darlin’?” For a moment, you’re a rabbit with its foot caught as a coyote stalks closer. His cowboy hat casts the upper half of his face in shadow, revealing nothing but a poisonously sweet mouth. You can feel his eyes analyze you, though, and it takes a few seconds and a deep breath to remember who’d been in this town longer. Outlaw or not, you had the high ground in this saloon. 

“No sir, not a good one,” you admit. “All the best’s kept in the cellar where it can stay cold and I ain’t going down there this time of night. Davey’s old wife haunts it after the sun goes down.”

“You afraid of ghosts?”

“Oh, no sir,” you correct him quickly and his eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “She’s very much alive, which I am of the opinion is scarier than if she was trapped in a different realm.” Your quip has amused him, enough for his gaze to soften and the corner of his mouth to turn up. He lifts his head and you’re introduced to a pair of dark eyes, framed by equally dark hair that you guess falls just above his shoulder blades. The man is devilishly handsome, and a voice in the back of your mind that suspiciously sounds like Davey issues more warnings than you can fathom. You ignore them on account of wanting to figure out what about this man made the saloon of outlaws, even for a second, fearful. “Somethin’ else I can get you?”

“Bourbon’ll do.” You pour it mechanically, watching him out of the corner of your eye. Something stops you before you slide it over to him, something akin to instinct. His face remains unchanged as you hold his glass hostage, looking at him expectantly with an open palm. 

“You got payment for me, cowboy?” 

“This work for payment? Also, not a cowboy.” He fishes something from his pants, flashing a silver star that you know all too well is the symbol of a ranger. “If not, I’ll be happy to take out a loan. I’ll pay it off before I leave in a few days, anyhow.” He’s of the law, then, you think to yourself with raised eyebrows, remembering the fact that he was hiding the authority in his pocket. Well, as much as you can be in these parts. Must need to dirty his hands a little bit to get his work done. You pretend to appraise the badge before nodding, handing him the drink. He takes a sip and triumphantly inspects the liquor swirling. 

“Up to your standards?”

“I believe it’s not the drink but rather who pours it,” he drawls with a smirk. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“I could ask the same thing of you,” you counter, matching his cunning smile. “I’m assuming you’re the stranger who rode in on Death’s horse early this morning?”

“The horse’s name is Wormy.” You snort unexpectedly and he huffs out a quiet laugh before continuing. “But, yes. That was me this morning. Like I said, I don’t plan on staying a while, and I believe you could help me with that.” A ranger in your town scaring everyone half to death. Pieces click together in your head and it’s not long before you realize his mission. Who else would he be here for?

“You want the crystal-eyed bandit.” 

“You know him as a bandit, I know him as a kid whose corrupt family successfully tainted his mind. I’m here to get him out–”

“Or die trying?”

“Definitely not the plan,” he says with a shake of his head. “If he doesn’t come willingly, I’ll kill him. Plain and simple.” You admired his earnestness, but also allowed the skepticism to show on your face, something that the stranger takes note of. “You think I won’t be able to get him.”

“You’re not the first one to come through town on a hunt and I’m sure you won’t be the last,” you state with complete honesty. “20 men have tried and failed. Who’s to say you won’t become number 21?” 

“I’m talkin’ to you and that’s a better start than any of the other guys had.”

“How so?”

“Something tells me that you’ve been wanting out of here for a long time, now,” he assumes and it’s your turn for your eyes to narrow.

“You don’t know anything about me, cowboy.”

“Not a cowboy,” he replies automatically, quickly getting back on track lest he lose your precious attention. “See, I don’t know much about you, but I do know that our bandit can’t resist pulling others into his schemes, especially ones who aren’t too sore on the eyes.” In any other scenario, such overt flirtation would result in his immediate expulsion from the premises, but you find yourself intrigued by what he has to offer you. 

“You think I’m in leagues with outlaws because of how I look?” 

“I think you’re forced into said leagues because of your position of employment,” the ranger says. “You’re his ears, aren’t you? You’re the reason he knows the dirt on the residents in this town, because you receive that dirt and relay it to him. It’s also,” his voice drops to a dangerous octave, “why he isn’t here right now…at this bar…in this seat.” You meet the challenge in his eyes, neither confirming nor denying what he’d declared was true. By some way or another, he knew much more than he let on. He knew you lied to Davey about not seeing him ride in early this morning; he knew you promptly told the bandit of a newcomer in town who could rival his control; he could tell you hesitated to slide the bourbon over to him because it was the wrong body on the stool. 

“When’d you gather all this information if you’d just rode in this morning?” He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, like you knew the answer to your own question. Your mouth opens slightly in realization and you whistle in admiration. “That was you giving us a fright last week? The monster creeping around the windows that everyone swears they saw but didn’t have proof? Your reconnaissance methods became a tall tale around here.” The ranger hums, taking another sip from his glass. “So, what’s my part to play in your plans? I tell you where he is, you go in and shoot him, I stay put and keep my mouth shut?”

“Nope, I want you to bring him a message.”

“That being…?”

“An old friend wants to duel,” he says cryptically. “Tomorrow at dawn. Do that for me,” he continues, “and I’ll give you half the bounty.” Your eyes grow larger than the wagon wheels outside. Half the bounty was more than you made in three months and would be more than enough to get you out of this town of scum for good. Before you let your hopes run too rampant, a lingering question pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.

“Why do you need my help to do this? Why not just ambush him?” 

“I’d like to take him out fairly, let it be a true show of who’s stronger.” The man continues to sense your hesitation and another question appears.

“I don’t even know your name,” you point out. 

“Call me Suguru. Ranger only in name, not practice. My superiors would be disappointed if they knew half of my bounty suddenly disappeared in the hands of the pretty bartender at the saloon.” He thinks I’m pretty? Before thinking twice, you nod in understanding and he flashes a grin, standing up to leave. “We have a deal?” 

“I’ll do it,” you begin, “but that’s all assuming you’re successful, cowboy.” The ranger’s face becomes even more satisfied, like returning to you was the easiest part of his challenge. 

“Not a cowboy, and just trust me,” Suguru responds confidently. “Both our futures are riding on this, so I’d be damned if I screwed it up!”

—

“You’re late,” you deadpan to the approaching footsteps in front of you. You’re holding the lead of Suguru’s black stallion and your new Pinto, a parting gift from Davey for all your years of service. Get the hell out of here, he’d said through fatherly tears, an affectionate hand on your shoulder. Find a new life and a new adventure with that ranger of yours. 

“My apologies,” he drawls, stepping into the dim light of your oil lamp. “Couldn’t find my ranger badge.”

“Did it turn up?” He shakes his head, unexpectedly unbothered. “You don’t seem in anguish over it.”

“Mmm, far from it. I don’t plan on wearing it again once I turn in these, anyway,” Suguru says, holding up the small burlap sack containing two crystal-blue eyeballs. “That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, before we left. I was working up the courage while I was rummaging around for the star.” You hum thoughtfully, adjusting one more strap on the saddle before sticking the front of your foot in the stirrup. You accept Suguru’s hand of assistance and mount your horse with ease. Beneath you, he gazes up like he was staring at a bright full moon. 

“Can we discuss as we ride out of here? I’m itching to get a move on.” He accepts your request without another word and swings himself onto his horse, following your pace as you trot slowly down the empty street. Just a day ago, this very street was where the notorious crystal-eyed bandit was shot down in a duel with the man riding beside you. His swiftness left you awestruck and you heard the shot before registering that he’d pulled his gun, the bandit’s body falling into the dust. “How many days’ ride is it to where you collect the bounty?”

“We can get there in three if the weather is agreeable.” Your conversation falls silent, both of you formulating questions and answers and waiting for the other to make the first move. Swallowing his pride and clearing his throat, Suguru decides to act first. “You wanna ask why I’m not wearing the badge after this bounty.” 

“That a statement or a question, cowboy?”

“Not a cowboy, but it’s a fact and whatever you make of it,” he shrugs. “Truth is, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now that I’ve completed the only hunt I really cared about.” You nod, encouraging him to continue as he shifts awkwardly in his saddle. “So, if you’d let me…would you let me keep you under my protection, wherever the wind takes you?”

“You want to stay…with me?” You echo his proposition with a flutter in your stomach and a racing heart. “Wherever the wind takes me, you wanna be there with me,” you reiterate, seeking confirmation that he gives wholeheartedly. 

“A ranger’s name can still have some standing,” he explains, incorrectly believing that you still need convincing. “And the darker circles I’m in respect me as a bounty hunter, so I can get you to basically wherever you want to go–” You pull your horse around perpendicular to his, stopping you both in your tracks. 

“I already agreed to your proposition, Geto Suguru, so stop talkin’ before I change my mind,” you tease, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He hits you with that poisonously sweet grin again, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

“If I may,” Suguru says as the sun starts to peek over the desert landscape, “your cowboy would like to know where it is he’ll be escorting you next.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

08 to be human. where ushijima forgets that he is only human and you remind him

<< 07 sun and moon. | >> 09 (coming soon)

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: sorry it took so long to post this part, it just never came out right - ave word count: 2.6k warnings: angst, fluff if you squint tags: @lemurzsquad

your violin rests on the stand in the corner, practice for the first chair audition forgotten as you once again get distracted checking your phone for any new notifications. 

you click into the group chat anyway, scrolling through their updates from tokyo. the latest text time stamped 8:59pm three days ago was a photo of the three of them at tokyo tower, with a caption of ‘missing our fourth :’)’ from semi,. there was another one of them with their food at their hotel and a collection of random photos that they thought to send you when they are away for a match. 

then there’s the photo you had received from tendo of ushijima doing a push-up while you were eating, causing you to choke on your food and coughing within an inch of your life. you did a double take and true enough, he sent it to you as a private message. 

you had left him on seen, naturally.

sliding down to your knees with your back against the wall, you let the device clatter to the floor next to you. 

tonight the silence is deafening in your ears. you thought you enjoyed the peace and quiet that you get to yourself in your home, but perhaps you had just grown accustomed to it. just like how you had grown accustomed to being around your friends, even enjoyed their company. 

you hug your knees, feeling a certain hollowness in your heart in the shape of a certain someone with eyes of the color of your favorite drink. you allow your memories to rush over you, remembering the night you shared as the weather turned cold, huddled in your barely warm enough jackets with a thin blanket laid out on the freezing ground, sharing your dreams for the future under the night sky with only the stars as your witnesses. 

“i am going to go professional as a volleyball player,” wakatoshi had shared with you. not surprising as he was one of the top three spikers in the country, it had only seemed natural, almost expected of him. “tokyo, maybe.”

you had turned to lay on your side, head propped up on your elbow to look at him in all seriousness. “i never told anyone, but my dream was to go play for tokyo philharmonic orchestra. after all these years, i think i still want to do it.” 

you shrugged, “i know i am nowhere near good enough yet, but i want that to be my reality someday when i become good enough. i have been working hard to audition for the first chair in the school orchestra. the teacher even said that with a little more work i have the potential to be in that position next year.”

you stopped abruptly, having realized you were rambling. it must have sounded stupid, you thought. you were nowhere good enough, unlike wakatoshi, to go to the national stage, and yet, here you were, talking his ear off about wanting to join the tokyo philharmonic orchestra.

you dropped onto your back, looking away into the darkness of the night. “never mind, that was stupid.”

“no, no, look at me.” but you had refused, thinking he was probably just trying to make you feel better about yourself. 

his hand had cupped your face, gently turning you towards him. your heart skipped a beat, feeling his skin on yours, and realizing that he was close enough for you to feel the warmth of his exhale on your freezing cheeks. it was right that moment that you were so sure that your cheeks burned under his touch.

when you met his eyes, you had expected to see surprise, but to your own surprise, you found only pride and belief in them. as if he saw it coming. that he believed in you. 

“let’s go to tokyo together then,” you thought you saw hope glimmering in his eyes that night. 

or maybe it was the reflection of the twinkling stars, you keep telling yourself to quell your own hope rising in your once barren heart. wakatoshi had gone and planted a whole garden lush with flowers of every variety you could think of. had watered and tended to the shrubs with care and affection. with stolen glances and half-smiles. 

in his absence, your heart yearns for its owner. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours, your traitorous heart whispers in his presence. 

you are afraid. for you have learnt that hope, this fragile thing with feathers, has been singing its tune in your ears this whole time. you are scared of being the only one who feels this way and getting hurt. you are scared that this whole time, you are the only one who needed him, that he does not need you. you are scared that hope has skewed your perception and you have been lying to yourself about the small possibility that he feels the same towards you.

a frantic knocking breaks you out of your thoughts. to your surprise, you find semi at your door with hands on his knees, panting for breath. a ghost of a smile passed over your face, reminded by the time wakatoshi showed up in a similar fashion on your doorstep.

“when did you come home from tokyo?” you frown, unaware that the team is back from nationals. you take in the defeat in his eyes, the quivering hands by his side. and you piece it together. the radio silence since three days ago. the fact that he is back home in sendai. oh. oh. 

shiratorizawa lost.

“i thought he told you, he said-” semi shakes his head. “never mind”

before you could say anything else, semi pushes past you into your house, grabbing a thick jacket and holding it out for you to wear. confused, you oblige, and he pushes you towards the door, fishing out a random pair of shoes. “it’s ushijima. we need to go now before that idiot does something stupider.”

semi pulls you into a fast paced run passing familiar houses and scenery. on a route you recognize because you walk it to school everyday. to shiratorizawa, you realize. 

“semi-” you protest through your panting, unused to the physical exertion on your body. your lungs are burning, throat dry and hurting with every breath that irritates it further. 

the cold wind bites at your skin. the barren tree branches swaying as if urging you on towards wakatoshi. worry clouds your mind, running through the worst scenarios that could be happening right down. if they had lost the nationals, why didn’t any of them tell you? and the ‘he’ semi mentioned, who could it be if not ushijima?

the blood freezes in your veins as you come to the conclusion that ushijima decided not to tell you. ushijima decided not to tell you.

the volleyball gymnasium comes into sight as your breath catches in your throat, feeling it squeezed out of your lungs. lips trembling, you snatch your hand out of semi’s, as you double over, retching onto the exposed ground next to the paved walkway. 

semi looks at you worriedly, rubbing your back guiltily. “i’m sorry”

your eyes meet his, lips parting to ask for an explanation, but not before another wave of nausea hits you. “what happened.” you manage the question before taking a shuddering breath, trying to remember how to breathe as the world spinned before your eyes.

“he’s not stopping. or listening to any of us.” your body sways as you stand up, so semi guides you to the entrance, looping an arm around your waist to support you.

you immediately find him on the court, ordering shirabu for another set. the young setter seems conflicted over his words, but tosses to him anyway after some hesitation. three other players trying to block his spikes. exhaustion showing through their sluggish movements.

and ushijima. you notice the unfamiliar black pad gracing his left knee. semi huffs, “his knee is irritated but he refuses to rest, and the first years are too scared to not listen to him, even if it is for his own good. the rest of us, we tried to talk to him, but he is not listening.”

the sight of him causes embarrassment to bloom in your chest. you have a pretty good guess of who semi meant when he said “he didn’t tell you?” earlier. your cheeks flush scarlet not only from the exertion of running here, but also from the betrayal you felt from being left out of the loop. how could he?

“what makes you think he would listen to me if he wouldn’t listen to you guys? when he didn’t even bother to tell me that you lost in nationals?” you clench your jaw, tamping down on your rising temper. 

“y/n!” tendo shouts excitedly from the other side of the net, looking like his savior just arrived.

you give him a glare in return. they are all complicit in withholding this information from you. 

ushijima winces as he lands on his feet, the spike bouncing off the back corner of the court. your traitorous body reacts instinctively to make sure he is fine, hand reaching out towards him as your feet itches to bring you to him. your heart betrays your mind, worry for his well being threatening to overcome the disappointment and betrayal you feel.

you clench your fist, lowering it to your side. semi gives you a look, to which you respond, “don’t”

ushijima turns around, almost surprised to find you there. then his eyes dart to where semi has his hand on your waist, and they darken as he meets your stare. as if semi crossed an unspoken line. 

you lift your chin, holding his gaze as if asking what about it? your chest heaves in angry short breaths, barely noticing how the court dies down as the second years quietly usher everyone out. 

and then he starts walking towards you, looking so much like a hunter who caught his prey in a trap. you tense, unknowingly taking a small step backwards. you had a feeling this is how his opponents feel when they stand on the other side of the net against him. and yet, they had won the match against shiratorizawa.

you feel taken aback when he leans down and envelops his arms around your frame, head nuzzled into your neck. the sensation of his breath on your skin as he breathes you in skyrocketing your heart rate. traitorous heart.

it is unlike the ushijima you know to behave so intimately. sure, it is common for some physical affection here and there as friends, but this… you swallow. this, you think, is crossing the invisible line as friends. suddenly, the unwelcome thoughts of him liking you back invade your mind, and spiral into whether you should tell him. but what if he does not feel the same way? 

you don’t know if your fragile heart can survive that. you shake your head, banishing the thoughts away into the void.

your brain tells you to push him away, to keep him at a distance with your anger, while your heart wants you to pull him closer and never let him go. you blink, heart at war as the two sides fight for dominance.

you lift your arms to return the hug, but hesitate as the logical side of your mind reminds you of the person in front of you. he is not meant for you. a tiny crack appears in the heart he put back together. you clench your fists, about to let them fall back down to your side, when you felt something warm trickle down the dip of your collarbones. 

and your heart breaks all over again for him. you hug him back tightly, one hand buried in his hand, with the other running up and down his back to soothe his tired heart.

one last time, you promise yourself, remembering the line he’d drawn between you by not telling you about their loss. the last time you put him before yourself, you think, as you shove your own disappointment and anger away. but you couldn’t help the question that popped up in your head before you did just that — what exactly am i to you, toshi?

you know there is no words you can say to make the loss hurt less. you know he has replayed the match over and over in his head so many times to analyze their mistakes, and likely came up empty handed. 

so you offer him something else instead. “you promised me to take care of yourself.” a quiet invitation. a safe space to express his locked up feelings, having to play his role as the captain in front of their team. 

you could almost taste the disappointment and the sadness of the defeat from the way his shoulders started shaking and the warm liquid wetting your jacket. oh, the things you would do to take his pain away. even at the cost of your own heart.

that night, as you pulled the blankets over him after giving him an earful about pushing his limits when his body needed rest and moved to leave, he asked you to stay. despite your better judgment, to which you blamed it on the time of the night, you climbed into bed next to him after putting one of his shirts on. 

with little protest, he had pulled your shivering frame against his, arm slung over your waist as his breathing slowed and he fell asleep. you had whispered his name in the darkness before turning around to face him. 

there was a little frown between his eyebrows that you smoothed away gently. you thought that he looked younger in his sleep with his mouth slightly open in an ‘o’ shape without the weight of the world on his shoulders. your hand rested on his cheek, admiring his profile in the light from the small rays of moonlight peeking through the blinds, bathing him in a soft glow.

with your parents, you thought you had seen the worst love can do to a person. with ushijima, he’s the one who’s seen you at your lowest, the first one you want to tell your good news to, the one you want to see after a long day, long before you fell for him. it hurts on a different level that he doesn’t see you in the same way that he is there for you. that he doesn’t feel he can come to you with his own problems when he was there for you. 

and it frustrates you to no end. what does he expect out of this, really? when he ran to your house that night? it makes you angry, but you don’t regret it. this feeling in your chest, it makes you want to pluck the moon from the sky and give it to him. anything he wants, you will give it to him if you could. 

without him, you would still be lost. he had shown you the way out of that darkness, stayed by your side through it all. why wouldn’t he let you do the same for him?

when the morning came, you were gone before he woke up. there was no trace of you having stayed the night that ushijima could have sworn he dreamed you up in his arms. except a mildly threatening note for him to rest and stay away from practice that sends a smile tugging at his lips.

looking for more? browse the collection

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

want to be tagged? don't be shy, send me an ask!

[vonrov]

Hi hi!!! I’ve got an idea if you’re interested!!

So the reader is an avid literature fan, and they really love Poe’s novels!! One day they meet him and Poe is confronted with the prospect that….. maybe he doesn’t need to keep writing just to possibly stump Ranpo one day…. Maybe he’s already an incredible author deserving of praise,, :’)

^ if that makes sense lol, but I’m super excited to see where your blog goes anyway!! Following immediately <33

a fan?

・ Poe x GN!Reader { Fluff ・ Warnings { None ・ Word Count { 1.3K ・ Masterlist { LINK

It all started when he met a fan. A fan. Someone devoted to his work, someone who enjoyed and loved his writing. He could remember the day like it had just happened. The feeling of his cheeks growing warm, as the tips of his ears reddened with the praise he sought for every time he tried to stump Ranpo with one of his stories.

He also remembers the way he fumbled with his coat and undershirt as the person in front of him would gush and ramble about the different scenes he wrote, the different characters he poured his own attributes into, as well as the attributes he wished he had. He listened with shaky fingers and an anxious feeling bubbling in his chest as they brought up the dialogue he would spend his time reading aloud over and over again until it felt right.

It would be in his next novel, he wrote a character into the ongoing plot who reminded him of the devoted fan he had met out on a walk to gain inspiration.

And inspiration he found.

Inspiration he found in you.

Whenever he felt stumped with his hobby he went on a walk. Down the street, take a right, and pass by that cafe he was always too scared to go into because of how deadpanned the barista looked in the mornings. It was the same route he had met you. Every time he went out on one of his brainstorming walks, he hoped that the two of you would cross paths again.

And like fate intended, that would happen on a random Tuesday about a month later.

The air was fresh with summer approaching as the trees were green with branches full of leaves. A slight breeze flowed about the city, the only thing reminding Poe about his need for a summer wardrobe change soon, as it kept him just cool enough to enjoy his stroll. He walked with his head down, holding a leather-bound book in his hands as he watched his shoes land against the pavement with audible clicks.

“Karl would have loved this weather, it’s a shame he was napping when I left.” He spoke to no one in particular.

“Karl is your pet raccoon, right?”

“Yes, he’s-” His voice got caught in his throat.

He was too lost in his own musings to notice you were right next to him, about to enter the cafe he would usually pass on his walks, clad in a uniform he’d seen somewhere before. It was almost humorous how quickly his expression had gone from deadpanned, deep in thought, to a somewhat frightened look of ‘holy fucking shit’ in a matter of seconds.

He blinked owlishly at you as you just looked at him with a smile.

“Do you come here often?” You pointed at the cafe’s entrance, a crooked smile stretching across your lips as you tried to relieve the awkward tension.

“Uhm- No, not particularly.” Liar. Even though hes never entered the cafe, that doesn’t mean he hadn’t walked past it almost every day when the weather was nice enough for the past three weeks.

“The sugar cookies here are really nice.”

“O-Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” You looked at the cafe doors before turning back to him. “I’ll be considered “late” for my shift,” You made air quotes with your fingers. “If I don’t get in there in a few minutes.”

“Go ahead then, I’ll have to stop by sometime when I can…”

So that’s where he knew that uniform from. His gaze flew to the window as he bit his lip, avoiding eye contact with the deadpan barista who was definitely watching them through the glass. The uniform the barista wore behind the counter was the same as the one you were currently wearing. He looked back at you before speaking, his voice quiet with apprehension.

“Are you guys pet-friendly…?”

Once he had gotten confirmation that the cafe was pet-friendly, for service animals only, he rushed off with the promise of bringing Karl with him on his next visit.

…

It was the next day he walked down the once new path turned familiar with his animal companion in tow. The weather was much like the day before, minus the pleasant breeze. But the heat did not deter Poe as he briskly walked. His shoes hitting the concrete with a familiar clack. Excitement was rolling off of him in waves at the thought of being able to meet up with this devoted fan of his after waiting for a chance to do so for the past few weeks.

“How can I help you?” A monotone voice spoke.

He didn’t realize he was already in the cafe, standing at the counter, Karl on his shoulder, ready to say hello, only for the person at the front counter to not be you.

Instead, it was that blank-faced barista who was always off-putting to Poe whenever he walked by the big windows of the cafe. He could always feel their stare on him when he paced the sidewalks day by day. Only now, he could see the stare and was standing before them instead of walking past the glass.

Well fuck. That’s certainly a way to flip Poe’s switch from 'fine' to 'not fine'.

“Uhm…” He had to say something. Maybe order something? Yeah, that would be a great way to cover up his ignorance of his surroundings. Karl chirped on his shoulder as the raccoon’s tiny clawed hands patted his head. Poe watched in worry as the barista’s gaze went from himself to the raccoon on his shoulder.

“Please tell me that is a certified service animal.” The barista’s tone was unreadable as their eyes moved back to Poe’s.

“Oh- Y-Yes, he is certified. Let me just…” Poe dug around in his coat, unraveling a few yellow-tinted folded-up papers from the depths of his inside pockets. Unfolding the documents and turning them around for the barista to see. He pointed to a few different places on the papers, explaining how Karl is a 100% certified service animal. “He’s a psychiatric certified service animal for anxiety.”

“I didn’t know raccoons could do that.”

“Me neither…”

…

Thankfully, he managed not to embarrass himself further as he sat down with a warm drink that he didn’t remember the name of and a large sugar cookie. There had been other options of course, but you had recommended the sugar cookie for a reason right?

Karl had jumped from his shoulder and rested in his lap when he had sat down. Not wanting to disturb the raccoon peacefully resting in his lap, his gaze shifted about the interior of the cafe, his eyes scanning over the bright pops of color highlighting the various white tables. The turquoise accent wall behind the counter is adorned with diverse eccentric artwork. His focus was broken when the ring of the bells over the door alerted him.

And to his surprise, you had walked in.

While he was hoping to see you, he wasn’t expecting you to show up, assuming you had the day off when he was met with the other barista behind the counter instead of you. He watched as your head swiveled around, making you seem like you were looking for something- or perhaps, someone with how your face lit up when you saw him.

His assumption was further confirmed once you had started walking over to his table. His eyes followed you as you walked over, his head turning as you now stood in front of his table instead of behind him by the door.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, not at all.” …

It took meeting a fan to realize something.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize that his novels impacted other people.

It took meeting a fan for him to realize, that maybe he didn’t need to write just to try and defeat Ranpo with another mystery novel.

Poe never even noticed his writing had even strayed from the mystery genre and played more with romance since writing in that new character about a month ago.

Authors Note: I actually cannot believe I managed to write all of those in one sitting. I genuinely think this is the first time I've been able to write over 1K words this easily. Whoever made it this far and is reading this, I need to know your thoughts on this.

I really loved writing this. My first time writing with Poe and while I was writing I decided to headcanon that Karl is a service animal because it makes sense. I hope I nailed his character and it isn't occ. There was something else I was gonna say but I cannot remember, it is 11:33 PM and I've worked on this for at least the past 2-3 hours and I gotta get up in the morning.

Comments and reblogs that tell me what you guys liked or little things that you noticed makes my day. My inbox is still open for recommendations, please check out my pinned post before you drop in though.

[not-ur-boy-toy]

Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 1

AN: FINALLY Chapter 1 of Hartbreak Ranch, I really hope you enjoy it! (btw I'm bad at explaining plots so apologies :,) )

Plot: Shawn is a famous model on his way to a new photoshoot. However, he finds himself getting stuck in the middle of nowhere. Luck just has it though as he finds himself staying with the Hart family, finding himself being drawn to a certain Bret Hart.

TW: Foul language, Alcohol mentioned

Word count: 3.6K

Next >>>

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Blond hair flowed freely through the wind as the bright, cherry-red Ferrari 308 drove down the desolate Arizona road. Music blared from the car as it raced through the empty route. The driver of it didn’t have a care in the world as he held a phone to his ear, his free hand on the steering wheel.

“Diesel! Trust me here, I’m doin’ fine, I know where I’m going!”, a laugh rang through the car, as the man spoke, his grin large as he kept his eyes on the road. 

“I know you know where you’re going, Shawn... But you’re in the middle of nowhere” the other voice rang through the phone before continuing, “You’ve already said you’re taking a ’shortcut’ but I just don’t think It’s a good idea!” the voice argued back, trying to reason with the stubborn man.

Shawn rolled his eyes before a soft huff left his lips, he was used to his bodyguard being overprotective, they always traveled together! Wherever Shawn went, a 6’10, hunk-of-a-man followed him. But not this time. The young 30-year-old man wanted to travel by himself! He knew the area reasonably well… maybe just enough to get him to the closest town and ask for directions. But Diesel didn’t have to know! 

“Diesel, Hun, Big Daddy Coolio, I’ll be fine, I’ll be there for Ramon’s photoshoot with what's-his-face…” Shawn hummed to himself, rambling softly to himself as he tried to figure out who he was working with again. Before he could even figure out the guy’s name, Diesel’s deep voice rang through his phone again.

“You’re working with Kid, Ramon’s toyboy or whatever.”

“Riight… That guy, yeah, I won't miss it, anyway, gotta go, phone is gonna die, Byyee!” And just like that, with a small click, Shawn hung up the phone before Diesel could say goodbye. He carefully tossed his phone to the empty passenger seat before adjusting the thick, black sunglasses on his face, humming along to the music on the radio. It had been a glorious drive so far. No traffic, the sun was hot, there were no clouds in the sky… and there was nobody to annoy him- other than Diesel every 15 minutes. 

It was definitely a perfect drive, yet there was one small problem. Fuel. Shawn’s trusty lady was running low, and the next gas station was a good 50 miles out, but there was a small town coming up in a few miles. It was a risk to turn off into the town. There was the chance there was no gas station in the town in the middle of nowhere. But there was just a nagging feeling, something that just drew Shawn’s attention to this town. It just seemed to call his name, and who was he to ignore that feeling? Shawn stepped on the gas, dust blowing behind the wheels as he sped up, going way past the speed limit before he reached the town that seemed to hypnotize him.

Shawn wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he drove through the town. He was used to the luxurious life, like main cities from New York to Los Angeles… but this was beyond different. It was small, tiny, barely anything compared to what he was accustomed to. There wasn’t anything branded, no hotels with infinity pools, no Prada stores, nothing! There was barely anything in this town other than small boutiques, a few restaurants and a few small businesses, as well as a few houses.

“There has to be a gas station in this place…” Shawn mumbled to himself, trying to distract himself away from the feeling he had awhile ago.

Driving around aimlessly didn’t seem to get Shawn anywhere, there wasn’t a gas station in sight, and his car didn’t have enough fuel by the sounds of it as it seemed to hiss and moaning from his beloved Ferrari. However, what Shawn didn’t expect though was the sight of smoke appearing from underneath the hood of his car. He hadn’t realized how hot it was in this place. 

“Shit, Shit, SHIT!” Shawn gasped out, quickly pulling up to the side, and turning off his car. He scrambled to get out of his car with urgency, slamming the door shut. Shawn quickly moved to the front of the car, lifting the hood with a slight hiss of pain from how hot the metal was and how smokey the engine was. He drafted away most of the dark smoke with a small cough before moving back.

“Son of a bitch!” he hissed out in anger, kicking his car slightly with his black leather boot. Oh, how Diesel was right about taking this shitty shortcut. He could see Diesel’s smug face in his mind, which pissed him off more. He hated being wrong. He couldn’t stand it. Rubbing the stubble on his face in frustration, Shawn paced in circles in front of his car, kicking slightly at the dirt on the floor. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Shawn’s blue eyes glanced around, looking at the almost empty street, seeing a few people staring his way before looking away as he looked at them. They weren’t gonna help, clearly. Shawn grunted slightly before slamming the hood down. He had to figure something out, but calling Diesel was not one of them. He could try to find a mechanic, but it meant he had to leave his sweet, beloved Ferrari behind for now… with a reluctant, annoyed huff, Shawn grabbed what he needed from his car, his phone, wallet and keys, before starting his walk to find a mechanic.

Instantly, Shawn knew he was out of place as he walked down the street. He was dolled up in his finest clothes, that being a white, open-shirt bought from Polo Ralph Lauren, khaki brown pants from the same place, his favorite Gucci belt in black and gold and finally his favorite pair of black leather boots, ones with a small heel. Of course, he had a few accessories, like a gold watch and matching earrings. He wouldn’t leave the house without them! This was one of his more ‘casual’ outfits, something he would wear to go shopping in New York. But being in this town? It looked like he was overdressed and everyone walking by gave him a second look. Now, Shawn loved the attention. He loved having people’s eyes on him. People would even say he craved it, but the looks he was being given now, it was more looks of judgment. Shawn mindlessly messed with his shirt, trying to flatten down invisible creases, trying to distract himself from the looks. A mechanic couldn’t be too far away.

A few minutes' walk eventually turned into a 15-minute walk into the town. He had passed more small shops including a bakery (which looked heavenly, from the strawberry cakes that looked freshly made to the croissants that Shawn would have loved to buy), a few cafes, a general store and even a liquor store which he kept in mind. Luckily, he had eventually found the town's repair shop. It looked like an older building, the corners of the building being rusted, yet a new sign in black and neon pink stood out on the building, reading out ‘Hart & Co. Auto Repair’. Loud country music was blasting, and the smell of oil and rubber burnt Shawn’s nose slightly, something he definitely wasn’t used to. As he entered the small shop, he noticed a pair of blue overall cover legs underneath a truck and humming coming from the person. He glanced around the shop, trying to spot anyone else in there, but no one else was in the small space, not even a customer. Shawn cleared his throat, trying to get the person’s attention, but it didn’t seem to catch the guy's attention.

“Excuse me? Hey” Shawn spoke up, moving closer, yet there was still no response. “Hey!” he continued in a louder tone, which seemed to catch the person’s attention.

“Shoot, hold on!” The mechanic yelled out from under the truck, finally rolling out from under the truck. The man who rolled out was quite young-looking, younger than Shawn, and had a baby face. He had blonde hair up to his shoulders and bright blue eyes. Of course, his sun-kissed skin was dotted with some splotches of oil and some sort of grime, and the blue jumpsuit he wore was covered in oil and dirt. Shawn looked at the name tag the other wore, barely seeing the name ‘Owen’ under an oil splotch.

Owen carefully stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth he had in his pocket before smiling at the man in his shop and holding a hand to him.

“Hi! Sorry about that. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I’m Owen. What can I help you with?” Owen asked, his voice surprisingly soft and surprisingly, not an Arizona accent either.

Shawn eyed up Owen’s hand beneath his sunglasses before looking back at the man’s face before taking off the shades. He gave Owen one of his charming smiles before speaking.

“No, not at all, just got here actually,” he began, licking his lips slightly before continuing, “I need help with my car- Obviously-, It broke down a few streets back, smokin’ and all… and no fuel” Shawn explained as he watched Owen lower his hand.

Owen looked slightly hurt about the man not shaking his hand, a pout on his face slightly. He hummed slightly before grinning and nodding.

“Should be easy! Luckily, it’s been a slow day, so let me put my truck down and we can go grab your car and tow it with the truck,” the mechanic agreed eagerly after his slow day.

By the time Owen and Shawn had towed the cherry-red car back to the shop, Owen had realized it wasn’t exactly the easiest job… It was a newer car, one he had seen no one in the town drive before… but he wasn’t gonna let this new customer down! Owen had lifted the hood of the car, already knowing it would take a few days to fix from the parts he could see, knowing it would take a few days to order parts… and then a few additional days to actually fix it. 

“So… How long are you here for, Mr?...” 

“Michaels, Shawn Michaels… and I was only coming here to fuel up. "

Now that was an issue. Owen pulled a face, wincing at the thought that he’d have to give this guy bad news.

“Well, Mr. Michaels, I… I uh, suggest you plan your stay here for a few days, I don’t have parts for a car like this,” the mechanic explained, as he glanced over to Shawn who stood nearby with his arms crossed.

“A few days? You have to be kidding me, right? Fuck… Diesel is gonna kill me!” Shawn groaned out, pacing around. “Shit, there’s a decent hotel nearby… right?” he asked, raising a brow as he looked over to Owen. 

Owen winced again. Even more bad news to give the guy…

“Well… There’s a motel nearby… but it is a good 45-minute drive from town.”

Shawn ran a hand through his long, wavy locks in frustration. His day couldn’t get any worse. First, his car breaks, and now the closest place to stay is too far away for him! Diesel appeared in his mind again. That annoying, smug face. Shit, he needed a drink… or something stronger.

Owen could see the annoyance on the guy's face. He truly felt for him. He had a soft heart and couldn’t stand to see a customer disappointed.

“But! If it helps, you could stay at my family ranch for a few days? I can keep you updated on your car and you won’t need to worry about how you’d get back to my shop!” Owen offered. The family ranch had enough space to help the guy out for a few days.

At the sound of the ranch, Shawn instantly hated the idea. He imagined the place being muddy and just plain dirty! However, it meant he would have somewhere to sleep, and he wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get back to this hellhole, which was now his nightmare. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm his annoyance.

“I… I suppose it isn’t a bad idea…” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “... Yeah, fine. I’ll stay at this ranch of yours.”

“Let me close up and we can be on our way then!”.

It was common sense to not take a stranger's offer to stay at their house, but what was there for Shawn to lose? He could simply tell a small lie to Diesel, just saying that he’s spending the night at a hotel… And the day after say he was stuck in traffic and then tell him his car has broken down, just to calm the man's nerves. That and Owen just seemed so… sweet. His personality was so genuine and that was so rare to see in Shawn’s life. Yeah, he had a social life as a model, but most of the people he had met never seemed genuine. The only ones he got that feeling from were Hunter, Chyna and Diesel. Shawn truly felt as if Owen did want to help him out. 

Owen hadn’t taken too long to finish locking up. It did leave plenty of time for Shawn to have a quick look around the place. He quickly noticed that Owen was clearly a family kind of guy. There were plenty of pictures scattered around the workroom of Owen with different people, some he assumed to be his parents, others he assumed were probably his brothers and sisters, and maybe even some aunts and uncles. There were even a few pictures of a few kids- one that looked like a younger version of Owen- In some snow. But either way, it was a big family. 

The ride to this ranch was rather quiet. Yeah, there was some small talk, such as where they were both from which Shawn found out that the man was actually from Canada, which was ironic. Another question had arisen as well, the question of Shawn’s job.

“So… You’re a model? I would have thought you were an actor or something,” Owen chuckled.

“That’s sweet of you, I did want to be one, but modeling? Being all dolled up, partying… It’s the life!” Shawn grinned out, not mentioning the bad side of the job. 

“Ah, so you get paid to be pretty and to party… I wish life was that easy” Owen joked. He knew his older brother, Bret, hated that lifestyle. He was always talking about working hard for a good life, which Owen had to agree with. But the thought of partying every so often sounded like a great time. When was the last time he, Jeff Jarrett, Davey and Brian went out for drinks… It had been too long.

“I wish it was that easy,” the model started, “Strict diets, working with people you might not like with… The list is long, but the positives do outdo the negatives in my eyes”. The downfalls of being a model were clearly a touchy subject as Shawn’s grin seemed to disappear. The excited glint in his eyes after the compliment disappeared. Owen knew not to push further on that.

Owen hummed in response, nodding his head slightly, “Well, we’re almost here”.

Seeing a rather rustic house in the distance after seeing cactus after cactus was rather refreshing. The place looked rather peaceful in Shawn’s eyes. It had its own charm to it. The wooden fences that seemed to carry on for ages were cared for, the wood seemed almost new, even if grass tangled and vined itself around the posts. A sign soon came up as they drove along the side of the property. Shawn eyed it up, raising a brow as he saw the name ‘Hart Ranch’. Very creative. 

Entering the beginning of the ranch, Shawn could already see a few animals around in different pastures. There were a few horses, even cows… It reminded Shawn of an old photoshoot he did, one which he enjoyed a lot. He got to dress up like he was a cowboy, the hat, boots and even chaps, the whole shebang! Hunter and Chyna were there as well and they looked amazing in their getup… even if Hunter’s horse he had to ride kept stealing his hat. A small, reminiscent smile graced his face.

The house seemed to grow as they traveled down the long, dirt road. From a while back it looked tiny, something that an old couple would live in. Yet now being so close to it, he noticed how huge it was. It must have been handbuilt, there were uneven grooves in the woods of the walls and fences in front of the house, something that showed how much hard work was put into it. There were even some stone bricks that decorated the oak wood. Bright, fresh vines climbed through the maze of bricks in the house, adding more color to the home. This must have been built years ago, even before Shawn was born. 

Owen and Shawn exited the truck. Owen helped his guest by grabbing the large bag that they had lugged into the truck before they left.

“I’m not too sure who will be in… I know my Ma will be in, my dad will probably be working with Bret, my older brother, somewhere on the ranch… probably fixing something” Owen laughed, “and my sister Diana will be probably looking after the horses… So it should be luckily quiet for you, just for now at least”.

Quietly, Shawn followed Owen up the steps to the patio before opening the screen door, which had a beautiful panel at the bottom that had been engraved by hand into a tree, and entering the rather cool home, the door closing with a soft bang. The home was decorated with even more pictures than what was at the auto repair home, some that were in black and gray, their corners torn and frayed from age which confirmed Shawn’s thought of the place being handbuilt, while others were newer and fresher. There were a few shoes scattered around by the front door being in different sizes and styles, some being boots, some were flats and even a few heels. Owen placed down Shawn’s bag by the oak stairs that stood in front of them before moving into the large, spacious room to the right of them which Shawn slowly followed after.

“Ma! I’m home! I have a guest!” Owen hollered out into the rather silent home, the only noise he could hear after was the sound of the cicadas that buzzed louder. Owen continued to walk towards the kitchen, which Shawn assumed it was. 

Instead of following the young man, Shawn looked around the cozy looking living room. There were a few brown leather couches that surrounded a fireplace, a few blankets were carefully and almost lovingly lined up over the top. Handmade throw pillows laid untouched in the corners by the arms of the couches, embroidery were neatly laced throughout the rather soft looking material which had quotes such as ‘Home Sweet Home’ and ‘Welcome to our happy place’. It was rather sickeningly sweet to see, yet it seemed to suit the home rather well. A large, thick cow rug of brown, black and white laid underneath an oak table, a mug left on a coaster, clearly left and forgotten by accident in the clean house. Bookcases lined the back walls of the living room, full of leather bound books of different colors and sizes before more newer kids books littered between well used and loved books. Finally, Shawn noticed more family pictures, one of a whole family that was framed above the fireplace in front of a different house. 

Shawn wasn’t the type to get homesick. He had a pretty close relationship with his mom, but that was it. He’d phone her every so often. But even in his parents home, there were barely any photos of them as a family, as Shawn grew up, the pictures dwindled down until there was nothing new. Seeing these pictures though, it tugged at Shawn’s heart, the feeling of homesickness being more apparent. He quickly shook his head, trying not to get sentimental.

The perfect distraction eventually came, pulling Shawn out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open again. Shawn glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on a taller man. Now, Shawn may not have been the type to be homesick, but he was the type to be a hopeless romantic, and when this guy walked into the house? Shawn could feel blood rush to his cheeks.

The guy had curly, deep brown hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was tanned much like a god, the sheen of sweat clung to the man's brows and neck. His eyes were a dark, melted chocolate color that held warmth in them. And his outfit? Shawn was loving it. A black cowboy hat sat upon his head like a halo, his blue, checkered shirt hugged around his strong, muscular chest perfectly, his jeans hugged oh-so-perfectly around his legs. This man was something Shawn wanted and needed.

Silence filled the room as the man stared down Shawn, staring down his outfit before looking around the living room. It was an awkward silence, one that Shawn could tell that this guy was trying to figure out who Shawn was and why he was just standing there. 

Before Shawn could even speak, the mans low voice filled the room, “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.

[safedistancefrombeingsmart]

((click pics for full size))

Do you sometimes read a fic and it just won’t leave your thoughts afterwards? (it happens way too often, thb.)

The current culprit is

I Knew Him First by LipstickDaddy ( @gaylilsherlock here on tumblr)

which has such a powerful ending and left me speechless and a bit heartbroken. I don’t want to spoil anything, it’s best that you read it yourself- it’s not even that long. But we warned: it’s rather angsty and couldn’t be further away from being fluffy or hopeful or light-hearted. Bring some tissues, maybe. You’ve been warned!

@gaylilsherlock was kind enough and let me borrow some lines of dialogue from the fic.

Plus, I also always wanted to see John in handcuffs. 😏 People who follow this blog for a while know that I would kill for John and defend him against everything. But yea, the beating in the morgue should have had (more) consequences. I don’t believe that John belongs in jail, he needs therapy and help and love and I started rambling now.

Anyways, enjoy your broken hearts!

[tinyapplejuice]

You know thinking about it, I realized I like to think Larry’s whole personality is just based on Starr Park. Like his whole life, his whole thing and character are just rules, rules, rules, and Starr Park. I mean he’s kind because he’s supposed to represent Starr Park and the fact he is the ticket man means he has to show a smile and a good personality as he is like the face of it when you enter it while Lawrie doesn’t because as you know he doesn’t do the tickets but more so over dealing with the rule breakers. (The rule breaker thing could also apply to Larry because that’s his job at Starr Park which is a cop.) He’s the one loving the rules because it keeps things in order and you know that he has to protect the theme park and in order to protect it, it has to be in order with no like weird or violent things happening around. I always have to remind myself that they’re robots created by Starr Park, their job is for Starr Park, their life, and their purpose centers around Starr Park. No matter what or how you think of him, Larry will always be centered around Starr Park. It’s so silly but interesting too, he’s nothing but just a code implanted in a machine. He’s not supposed to have feelings, he’s supposed to be a professional at his job and that’s all. You can’t just slap a headcanon onto him because it wouldn’t make sense like what do you mean he bakes for fun? (No offense) you have to think about characters as a whole and thinking about it, Larry’s whole thing about you know what makes it special for me. GRRRRRRRR I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHHHHH. Also, the fact he is a robot is so smart, that means he doesn’t need to eat, drink, or sleep at all. He doesn’t need to waste time on something that’s necessary compared to a human who has all these needs that they need to fulfill or they’ll die. I love to think about it because that means he’s doing his job 24/7 and LIKE DO YOU UNDERSTAND OR AM I GOING CRAZY??? THEY DON'T HAVE EMOTIONS AND THEY ARE NOT GOING TO BE IRRATIONAL LIKE HUMANS!!!! THEY ARE NOT GOING TO BE WEAK OR NEEDY!!! THEY WONT WHINE, COMPLAIN, OR MESS UP AS MUCH AS HUMANS DO!! ITS LIKE SO OERFECT AND IT JIST CLICKS IN MY MIND AND ITS LIKE UGHH!! I also like to mention I need more Larry fanart where he’s like creepy. Of course, he’s not going to be aggressive like those horror games but it’s like those psychological horror things. They don’t scare you with scary images, they scare you with the mind instead, the concept that’s terrifying to grasp at. I DON'T KNOW WAHG IM SAYING BUT LIKE YOU KNOW THESE FANARTS WHERE LAWRIE IS NERVOUS WHILE LARDY SMILES RVEN THOUGH THE SITUATION THEY ARE IN IS TENSE AND TERRIFYING!! IM A SUCKER FOR TJOSE THJNGS BUT LIKE FAUDUAJRATUXGI. ITS ALSO COOL BECAUSE STARR PARK KINDA CENTERS AROUND WHERE EVERYTHING IS FINE!! IF YOU JNOW YOU KNOW!! Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me also… umm the requests, I would do them I swear I promise it’s just that when I force myself to do those things it’s not that fun and it just feels stale and like just a carbon, watered down version of what I was going for. So yeah hope you enjoy snd just expect more Larry and Lawrie rambles from me. (And LAWRIEPEARL)

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Ohhhh so I was re-reading Burning Desire, yes it’s me again… the agent x reader anon hehe aaannnnndd I read this line:

“Please... Please…I want to come. Please let me come.” He didn’t sway, holding the wand down harder. You didn’t have a full dom/sub relationship but he would make you regret it if you came without his say-so.

And it made me curious what exactly would happen if you were to cum without his permission, just a little idea for a future fic maybe…

Anyway I absolutely adore your blog and love your work. I hope the universe sends you a wonderful week and thank you for listening to me ramble 💕

A/N: This was just horny brain dump. enjoy

Tags: Smut, over stimulation, dom!simon, light bondage, aftercare

"Simonnnn," you moaned. His name had become a more frequent sound since he started going bare-faced around you. He hadn't said anything but you knew by the way his thrusts picked up that he liked it.

"Not yet, love." He rasped in your ear. His chest was pressed against your back in your usual doggy-style position. The head of his cock was hitting against your womb, forcing the air from your lungs. He'd spent almost twenty minutes teasing you before finally thrusting his cock in. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Please!" You cried into the pillow, legs shaking hard.

"Not yet." He was firm but words weren't enough to keep you in line. You clenched hard around him, eyes rolling back as you came. He let out a disappointed sigh. He pushed your head further against the pillow as he fucked you harder. He didn't whisper praises in your ear like normal. No 'good girl' today. He groaned loudly as he came inside you.

"Can't follow orders today, aye, agent?" He pulled out and let you fall flat onto the bed. You could feel his cum drip out of you. "Or maybe you're just greedy."

He got off the bed. You couldn't find the strength to lean up to watch where he was going. You heard your closet door open and groaned.

"If you didn't want me to use them you shouldn't have told me about them." You heard the zipper on the old toiletry bag you used to hold all your toys.

The mattress sank down on either side of you as he grabbed your wrists and pulled them back. Leather cuffs kept your arms behind your back.

He lifted your hips with one hand and you heard the familiar sound of your cordless wand vibrator.

"Simon..."

"Yes, love?"

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you want." He murmured, kissing the small of your back as he slid the vibrator between your legs, letting it rest against your clit. It was set to a medium steady vibration that made your toes curl. "You can come as many times as you."

Fucking bastard. You wriggled against the vibrator, sending shocks through your body.

"Be a good girl," He held you firmly in place and turned up the vibrations with one click. You whimpered.

He laid down beside you and kissed your forehead.

"Whenever you've had enough, I'll stop it." He smiled like he wasn't torturing you. It didn't take long before another orgasm ripped through your body. He was stroking your hair during the second one. You were crying after the third and tapped out after the fourth.

"Okay...okay...I'm done...Simon...please." He was quick at pulling away the vibrator and undoing the cuffs. He pulled your trembling body to his chest and kissed your forehead.

"Once you've stopped shaking I'll clean ya up," he chuckled. "Didn't think you'd make it to five tonight. Might have to push ya harder next time, make it an even six."

You groaned, unable to feel your legs, just the throbbing between your legs.

"You feel satisfied now?"

You nodded your head with a weak whimper.

"Good girl."

[crystallizsch]

Hi...I'm new to the twst fandom, and i saw you help out someone else with recommendations so i was hoping you could help me tooo? 🥺 I'm worried about bothering people with asks and stuff, so i was wondering if you had any recommendations for blogs of nice/welcoming people in the fandom? 👉👈 It would be nice to make some friends...

You seem really friendly and welcoming, which is why I managed to send this...I just don't want to annoy anyone...💔💀 Thanks!!!!!!!!

AWHH HELLO HI WHAT THANK YOU SO MUCH??

i sometimes worry that i may be too overwhelming (if that’s the right word for it???) to even approach so that means so much to hear 😭💖💕

also i MAY have rambled too much,,, i ended up giving (unsolicited) advice as well im so sorry but i just wanted to say some additional things too about making friends in the fandom in general 🤧

anyways anon it’s all right under the cut 💖

AAGH FIRSTLY welcome to the twst fandom!! so glad to see you joining in!

i’ve only been in the fandom since the beginning of this year actually! and so far as my experience goes it’s been so fun!! people create amazing things and share amazing ideas with one another so i hope you enjoy your stay!

ALSO it makes me happy that you even think i’m approachable enough for recs 😭💖

i'm admittedly very biased though because a lot of the blogs i consider nice/welcoming are already mutuals/friends of mine 🤧

and i’m lowkey highkey kind of shy mentioning them again ahglsjdlsalk so i’d like to point you back to that original post here even though im assuming that you literally just came from there 😭

im so sorry i couldnt be more helpful with recs 😭💔 but all of them i do consider pretty nice blogs!!

ANYWAYS PLEASE DONT WORRY ABOUT “ANNOYING” ANYONE YOU ARE NOT A BOTHER most people love receiving asks/interactions!!

i really understand the feeling though!! it’s hard making that first move sometimes,,, and honestly (i know it sounds incredibly cliche but) you’ll never really know if you’ll click with someone here until you try!!

and i'm not sure if you post or not but! it's definitely how I've met the people i’m mutuals/friends with here!

i’ve made friends with others who regularly/every now and then reblog with nice tags or comments on my posts ;;; and i do the same on my main blog! i tend to leave a lot of tags when i reblog posts that i like

and sometimes it just,,, happens??? especially if you and the other person have a shared interest in the fandom!

anyways,,,

send people asks!! reblog with nice tags!! comment!! just let other people that you're there!! the right people for you will reciprocate 💖💖💖 (also this is in no way being against people who just prefer to silently lurk/interact btw i still appreciate you guys 🫶 this is just for if you want to interact more and make friends in the process!!)

but that's just me!!

similar to what i said on the original post i encourage you to find and interact with other people that you think you would vibe with!!

there's a lot of different corners in this fandom that are into way different things about the game than me. and the people that i vibe with might not necessarily vibe with you which is not anyone's fault!! it’s just the way it is 💖

(also i forgot to mention this in my original post --- i'm not sure if you're a minor or not so make sure if you decide to check out some blogs allow minors to interact 🙏 ) (and a lot of blogs outline their boundaries and rules on their intro posts that are pinned so keep that in mind!)

i have no idea how to end this hsjshsjs but generally just find others who like the same twst things as you and interact with them!! it’s okay to do little by little until you’re comfortable, there is never any rush 🫶

AGAIN i hope you have fun here and i wish you the best!! 💖💖💕

[voxofthevoid]

Hello! I just finished chapter 3 of 'being slaughtered', which was a delight, and I got the impression that Yuuji's animosity and low opinion of Gojou's entire being is starting to affect Gojou more than he expected, considering it's nothing new to him. The cracks are subtle, but they're there. I wonder how that influences Gojou's growing obsession with Yuuji? Does he feel like he has to prove something to Yuuji? I feel like, in canon, Gojou took such an immediate liking to Yuuji that it kind of unbalanced him in some aspects (when Yuuji died for example) and I feel like in 'being slaughtered' Yuuji's rejection can work the same.

Thank you for the update!! Hope you have a good weekend. <3

I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Now watch me sit on my hands to stop myself from rambling a whole essay in answer to this.

Your impression is right! Gojou is more affected than he expected by Yuuji's animosity, though he's definitely not surprised. Like you said, that's what he's used to, and he's well aware that Yuuji has every reason to resent him. The real problem, though, isn't Yuuji's rejection—it's his acceptance. You know the parts peppered through this chapter and the last where Yuuji has to actively stop himself from just vibing with Gojou, and how he doesn't always manage it in time? That's what's tripping Gojou up, especially in combination with the animosity.

I've talked about this before, but what I like a lot about Gojou-Yuuji is their canon chemistry—not even in the romantic sense, but as two people who just click. In this fic, though the circumstances have changed drastically, their personalities are still the same. That chemistry is still there, and there are moments where they get along enough for it to peek through.

Gojou's interest in Yuuji was sparked by his ability to contain Sukuna, and he wasn't lying when he said he saved Yuuji because he (a) hates killing kids and (b) wants to honor Megumi's request, but Gojou's growing obsession is being generously fed by who and what Yuuji is as a person.

Here's a fifteen-year-old kid who never even knew curses existed until he swallowed Ryomen Sukuna's finger the night his only family died, and not only does he accept this freaky new world without batting an eye, but he's also willing to die for the world almost immediately after. Oh, and he has superhuman strength. He doesn't put up with Gojou's bullshit despite being under his power in every sense, but he's also adjusted remarkably well and quickly to being kidnapped and kept in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. On top of all that, he treats the King of Curses like an irritating pest.

Gojou's understandably fascinated.

Ultimately, he simply likes Yuuji; this is not a good thing for Yuuji. Like in canon, the affection is unbalancing Gojou, just in a very different way.

One of the central themes of every version of the story is this: When you're practically a god, who holds your leash? At present, Gojou's moral leash is wrapped solidly around his own hand, and Yuuji's someone he's coming to want, who doesn't want him back but is entirely at his mercy. How much will that grip loosen?

(The tags say, "A lot.")

Look at that, I wrote an essay anyway...

TL;DR: Gojou's got it bad, and the fic's gonna get very fucked up very fast.

Have a good day, anon 🧡

[reserved-system]

February Stars [HSBB]

Picture this, you're on a losing streak in life. Maybe you're having car troubles, just got dumped, or you bombed that test you thought you studied well enough for. Some time passes someone new is introduced into your friend group and at first you don't click, maybe you have a few interests in common, sure but it's like you only manage to see them at parties. You stop partying for a bit to get yourself back together and a close friend reaches out and invites you to their party, and you decide fuck it and go. During the party, you notice that friend from the group you don't know very well and decide to take a chance.

Now you may be left asking, what happens next? I guess you'll just have to read the wonderful fic this piece is based on!

[Link here!]

Hope did a wonderful job and tugged at my heart strings a little bit (/pos) and above all else had us cracking up the entire time we worked with them and the rest of our team! Let's go show them some love, shall we? Yet another massive shout out to the mods and admins for putting this event together! Check out the #hsbb 2023 tag for more works and fics like this!

Extras under cut - Wips, rambles, the whole nine yards, you know the drill!

GOSH. I don't know where to begin! How about with some stats?

This piece seems like it didn't take us as long as the first piece did because we actually scrapped our original piece and opened a new canvas. So over the roughly 2 month span, this is how we're looking!

Then we get to move on the the original sketch <3 So what I was going for was the ending scene when they're laying in the grass holding hands and Jimmy is talking to Tango. So this piece is a top down view which I've never attempted before so it was interesting trying to figure that out!!

ALSO. You can see us here playing around with our new art style ;^]

My one regret with the piece is I wish we kept the canvas zoomed in to the point all throughout the piece. You can tell where we zoomed in a lil too close by the thinner line weight in some areas but other than that I still like it. I loved working with the thicker lines.

So we once again failed to get any in progress shots of the background, just some shots in between the shading and the back lighting.

Colors colors colors! You can actually see Tango has a different facial expression in these. We played around with in for a few days until we found something we liked. You can also see us play around with other colors too.

And one last shot to appreciate the shading. <3

And now, bloopers!

Just a small collection of concept sketches from our first, scraped piece! It would've shown the rest of the backyard, porch, and Ren partying in the background.

Anyways, thank you for reading our rambles! Whether you're here from a reblog, from the fic itself, or were already following us. I hope you enjoyed! Be sure to keep your eyes peeled for the rest of our pieces for the event.

From the Reserved System, Happy HSBB everyone!! <3 <3 <3

[beneathashadytree]

Hi Maya! Congratulations for 2K, I'm very happy for you!! ❤️❤️❤️ let's aim for 3K, 4, and even more in the future ✨ for the event, may I ask for combination of 59+66 smut with Albert from Yuumori? feel free to skip this one if you feel uncomfortable to do so. And lastly, thank you! ❤️

SEDUCED - ALBERT MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : light NSFW but nothing too descriptive, makeout session, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy ig?

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! Your sweetness really made my day, and I’m so glad to have been writing so long for kind people like you! As you can see from my life updates, I wasn’t physically capable of writing this before now—but I hope I did your request justice, even if I posted it so late!🫶🏽🫶🏽

Prompts : “Are you trying to seduce me? Because it’s working.” “Enough of that, let me fuck you.”

Requests are open for my 2K+ followers event! Check it out <3

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“How about this?” they asked, spreading their arms out as they showed off their newest bespoke pants, paired with their favorite specially-tailored white shirt.

Albert’s emerald eyes almost burned a hole through the fabric, trained on their figure as they traced a track across their entire front. Wordlessly, he gestured for them with his index finger to give him a turn, and they obeyed—despite their slightly reddened ears, that is. His stare did things to them, as it often did, and still they felt it on their turned back… and on other places.

They began to speak freely, rambling a bit with the nerves that refused to leave them whenever they were in a room alone with Albert. “I had it done earlier this week, though I’m still not sure whether I’ll venture out with it, or keep it for more casual settings.” Flicking at an imaginary piece of lint, they went on. “It’s, uh, a little tighter ‘round the bottom than what you’re probably used to seeing, I’m sure.”

With that, they twirled one last time, enjoying the way the collar ruffles of their pristine white shirt danced with the movement. The airy fabric was something they were rather fond of. Looking up, they met Albert’s smoldering gaze, equal parts sensual and wicked. Something about his eyes made every look like an intimate caress, and this one was no different.

Swallowing thickly, they watched as he slowly approached them, the heels of his oxfords clicking against the floor of their room. It was sparsely furnished, compared to most of the mansion’s other rooms, and the sound echoed in a way that had them anticipating what he’d do the moment he’d—presumably—get his hands on them.

With only a few centimeters separating them, Albert was close enough to shake their nerves all over again. A tingle ran down their spine at the very thought of what his rosy lips might taste like if they dared take the half-step forward, or what his large hands might feel against the nape of their neck in a firm grip. Some peculiar ache grew deep in their belly at the shockingly vivid thoughts.

Before they could re-enact one of their daydreams, Albert’s hand had already reached out to stroke the side of their neck ever-so-gently. With each caress, they could feel their stiffness melt away, and a moan almost escaped their lips at the sensation. It felt good; better than good, even, paired with his devilish half-smirk and the unconcealed mirth dancing on his face.

He arched his brow at their reaction, probably seeing something in their own eyes that they couldn’t see but knew was there; they knew their eyes were probably unfocused and hazy with the undeniable lust that was slowly growing within them. One daring thumb gently brushed against their lower lip, prying their lips open. "Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked, before chuckling, “Because it's working.”

“Err.” They paused, unsure of what to say. What does one say, anyway, when faced with such a magnetic force of nature? Certainly nothing too intelligent, because their mind was currently void of all thoughts that weren’t scrambled by his very touch. “I mean, I really only wanted your thoughts on my new clothes. I rather liked them myself, and I do value your opinion, so I don’t think seduction was my intention.” Rushing to correct themself, they hoped he hadn’t gotten the wrong impression of a rejection from their words. “Although, don’t get me wrong, I honestly have no qualms against any… um, further developments…?”

Inwardly cringing at their phrasing, they watched as amusement flickered across Albert’s face. Really, they were only making a fool out of themself the longer they rambled on. “What I’m trying to say is, though I did want to initially show off the inverted seams on the shirt and the brilliant fit of the trousers, I’m all for a little, er, debauchery you could call it? Or if that isn’t—“

Albert shook his head in something that looked like exasperation, before taking the plunge and leaning in to absolutely blow their mind away with the sensuous kiss he bestowed upon them. A little rough as his teeth nipped at their lower lip, it served as the perfect distraction as one hand dug into their messy hair, while the other cheekily drifted down to rest on their bottom that they so boasted in this outfit.

Dazed by the overwhelming scent of him permeating their personal space and the sensation of his heavenly lips on theirs—and oh God, was that his warm tongue too?—they could feel themself begin to slip down, down, down, their knees weak and wobbly with the intensity of it all. Before they could probably pass out in his arms, he pulled away, with eyes that burned brighter than they’d ever seen. It wasn’t difficult to tell what sort of emotion drove him to look at them like that.

"Enough of that, let me fuck you. I’m certain there isn’t enough blood in my head right now to think of what a reversed seam might possibly be." With a jolt of surprise, the position they were in—with him so deliciously pressed up against them—meant that they could feel what he meant right against their belly. Their face warmed as their blush intensified at the realization.

“Inverted seam—“

Another devouring kiss stole their breath away, before he emerged victorious once more at having shut them up so skillfully that only a small, needy whimper could leave their mouth as he pulled back and let his hand caress them from behind. “Couldn’t care less right now, my dear. My mind’s busy conjuring up all sorts of images we could recreate on that bed behind you… if you’ll so please?”

Taglist : @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @whitecelluyu @wifeofkyojuro

[astrum99]

@patronsaintofdemons from original post

*runs at u* *snatches u by the arm* *shaking u shaking u* I GOT U. YOU RE NOW A VICTIM OF MY THOGHTS . DO NOT RESIST. 

No joke I woke up yesterday morning at 4am, saw ur tags, and couldn’t get back so sleep for a whole hr bc I got so excited to talk abt whatever funky waves my brain is generating ( I am at peak obsession right now, I am generating enough energy to power a small city))

Sorry if I’m being awfully deranged. I'm not used to being Comprehended and Perceived as an existing entity. Please excuse the part of me that is vibrating so hard I am about to emit light beams from my eyes like some sort of cartoon character. Anyways.

Ultrakill, so far, doesn’t actually have a super complex lore. The story is succinctly simple and tragic. The characters as well. I won't focus on that because my obsession lies in Gabriel. From your tags, it looks like you haven’t gotten deep into the game (yet), so I don’t want to spoil the fun if you ever decide to watch a playthrough of the game, or play the game yourself.

And I can avoid spoilers because, for this post, what I latched onto is not his character arc, but his inherent setting of “an angel”.

“Why are you thinking of an angel”

Well. For starters. I wasn’t thinking about angels at first. I was thinking about his thighs and what he got down there. 

Stay with me. The horniness is fading. The poetry is starting. (shaking you)

Click see below.

No? As if you had a choice.

Jokes on you, I lied. This is less of a poetry and way more of an incomprehensible ramble on why Gabriel is irresistible to me. I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Humans are largely made of storytelling and wonder. A desire to strip back layers and layers until a deep, concise answer is found. Then we move on. The study of magic: biochemistry, aerodynamics, fusion physics. We boil the universe down to the barest essentials, then examine some more. We looked inside ourselves: blood, plasma, enzymes. Until we reach the concept of consciousness and suddenly, we are incapable of going further. Attention turned to the sky: planes and rockets; astronomy and “what happened before the Big Bang?” in a child's voice. And we saw that the stars were moving further away from us, faster too, and we thought "we'd have to keep going."

It is at these ends that things become interesting. Never-ending debates of questions that will never be solved because of our inability to go beyond the limits. Reaching the skybox of the universe and unable to do anything more than to speculate what lies further still.

It is no wonder that the thought of an angel captivates man. If it exists, then its nature of being far outside of our observational capability becomes the ultimate lure for artists and scientists alike.

For example, what form would it take? A question of pure speculation, no different than a child's image of aliens. Brainstorming shapes and curvatures and weight in the three-dimensional space, fruitless and fantastical.

An abstract form, perhaps. So abstract that it becomes a type of cosmic horror or a Lovecraftian horror. The burning of eyes, the melting of mind. To lay eyes on it is to condemn yourself to death. Radioactive elephant's foot. We'd try to see it regardless.

A holy being, perhaps. Formed like a man but spills pure light when cut. Would it even cut? What does it mean if the imperfect blade made from the hands of a lowly man had sliced through its skin? Skin? Does it have skin? Like a salamander? Like a leopard? Can a creature’s skin contain the light of god? …Would it leak like a broken puppet? Does it sometimes hate itself like how some of us hate the silhouette of our shadows?

A man, perhaps. Uncertain if it became an angel because the mold of humankind was filled to the brim with divinity, or if it is divine because the pile of carbon assumed the role of an angel. Does it know? Does it wonder? Does it see man in itself, and itself in man? Does it feel lonely to be separated from its lightless siblings that wander the earth freely and sinfully?

And if it is man, as physical as it can be, how close am I to it? …What makes you sacred? Can I see? Can I touch? Can I study your form as millions of humans studied every inch of their world, concrete and abstract? Do you see me as ants? Or family? Would you grieve for me as I have for the songbird?

If I cut you open, will you hold yourself down for me?

Will you forgive me for desecrating you like so?

I think I would be ok with dying by your hand if it is you: let me trade my sight to see you, let me trade my life to touch you. To know you is to cross the limits of the beasts. Sacrilegious.

… And I don’t think you’d allow me to. It’s not in your character. Another angel perhaps, from another story. But I’m thinking of you. And so I can only think, like ancestors before me, and descendants after me. Of the study of magic, of self, of sky.

Of angels.

Truthfully, I’m not a believer in a higher being, never have been, probably never will; but standing on the boundary between life and death and yearning to know the feeling of an angel’s skin under my fingertips are the closest thing to a prayer I have ever experienced. Passion burns; I tend to the fire.

And it’s so regretful that I will never know (because you are an angel) and I will never know (because you are born of fiction) and I am never supposed to know (because to completely understand something or someone is to remove the wonder and hope and passion - like how life without death is timeless and still).

So, this is a love letter of sorts. Because I can’t be the only one craving to know every crease and crevice of this holy being made wearing the same shell as a creature who roams the earth blindly, bumbling, and mad.

------

By the way, please excuse grammar issues. Both my writing in the original post and this one are messy and not thoroughly edited. I just type my brain words out in one setting (partially because uni is in full swing). Sorry if this is on the too-long side of things. I was 700 words into my take on human storytelling before I went: “wait, I’m going way off topic” haha Hope this version is more palatable!

Also just wanna let you know: I just started posting my writing, so your tags were one of the first few that came in and got me really excited! I’m always so happy to read the tags of people who enjoyed my stuff. Thank you!

[melodraca]

Hey! I saw in one of your posts, in the tags, that you were an English major. I'm going to college soon, and I was wondering if you had any advice on picking out your major. What do you like about majoring in English, and what exactly do English majors do? Thank you!

First of all, congrats! That's really exciting! I really hope you enjoy your time in college! Second, this is gonna be a bit long, so I apologize in advance o7

I'm honestly not sure how helpful this is, but for the longest time I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I actually enrolled in university as a mature student a good 5-ish years after I graduated high school. I was so tired of school-related stress (and the way that the public school system functioned in general) that I was honestly considering not even going to post-secondary. I bounced between different potential majors, although I couldn't help but feel tired just thinking about them, like I would be going to school out of obligation or societal expectation rather than genuine passion.

When I came back around to the idea years later, I started poking around my local university's website. As I was going through, reading everything over, and clicking through different subjects, I realized that I was actually really feeling excited about school for the first time... pretty much ever. Because I realized that I had the chance to do things at my own pace, with a focus on subjects that I actually liked, rather than what my family expected would get me a traditionally "good job."

I narrowed my major down to a choice between English and creative writing, but I ultimately went with English. As much as I love creative writing, I prefer doing it as a hobby. It's the same with art for me: getting too serious with it made me feel less passionate and creative (to be fair though, I did take two first year creative writing classes as electives and I am genuinely proud of the stuff I wrote for them!)

With English, I could do my favourite thing in the world: overthinking literature and talking ad nauseam about the media I like. I love rambling, and writing essays is pretty much just organized info-dumping. I also wanted to learn more about history and culture, especially the way that they influence and are influenced by the works of literature, film, etc. of the times. In my experience so far, English classes have mostly consisted of reading or watching a bunch of texts, analyzing them & picking them apart, discussing said texts with my peers, and comparing/contextualizing them with each other. It's way more fun for me than it probably sounds to most people haha

Side note: I'm also taking biology as a minor (specifically with a focus on zoology because I love animals). The contrast between using the more creative and writerly side of my brain, and the more logical sciencey and side works well for me.

I'm still not super career focused, though I have certainly thought about it. I'm on disability support right now, so thankfully I'm fortunate enough to not need to juggle work and school. Ideally, I would love it if my degree landed me a stable job that doesn't make me feel miserable or put the same strain on me that retail and food service do. But I'm kinda just going with the flow for now.

Anyways, that's all to say: look over all of your options and narrow it down to the ones that draw your interest and passion the most. Consider what you want out of school, explore the potential career options that each subject could bring if that's your goal, and generally go with what makes you feel the best.

I know most schools have exploratory courses and academic advisors that can help you figure out what you want to do, so I would definitely look into that! Oh, and look into the required classes for each subject too! It personally helped me organize and prepare for everything I would need to do so that I was less blind-sighted by, as an example, my mandatory statistics class for my biology minor (I'm DEFINITELY not a math person)

Good luck, and I'm sorry again for how long this got! I wish you the best :D

[prism-stone-planet]

Ok so here’s my long ramble-y thoughts about Idol Land Pripara after playing it for a bit. I’m just gonna write what pops into my head first lol so anyway:

Coordes

I really love pretty much all the new coordes I’ve seen, they’re all very cute and pretty and very Pripara esque imo however the only downside is that some of them cost real money and are pretty expensive, even the non new ones and the ones that cost silver Idollars can be quite expensive too

It also sucks that some coordes are locked behind the paid gacha and it’s rates aren’t the best (1.5% or something chance of getting a Premium Pripara Rare so good luck getting Amari’s Cyalume) and there’s no spark system. If you get doubles you get points that contribute to your gacha meter that can get you Silver Idollars, Promise Tickets, Exchange Tickets or Gacha Tickets but you’re mostly gonna get Silver Idollars and Promise Tickets which idk doesn’t feel like a fair exchange.

I do like the Coorde sorting system compared to the Switch game tho

Silver Idollars

One decision I’m baffled by is how Silver Idollars expire at the end of the month. I thought it was because Silver and Gold Idollars were the same except Gold are paid and they didn’t want people saving their Silver so they’d never need to pay for Gold but there’s some stuff you can only buy with Gold and some you can only buy with Silver and you can’t buy Silver Idollars or (to my knowledge) exchange Gold into Silver so why does Silver expire???

Live Promises and Songs

Live Promises are fine enough, it plays pretty much like the Switch game and I like that you can just tap anywhere on the screen to play and not the button. I also appreciate the screenshot button but idk it feels too small to me, I keep missing it when I try to click it. I also find my phone gets really hot when playing Live’s and a lot of Making Dramas aren’t in E.g Baby Monster just gives you After School Heart Dash or whatever it’s called

There’s a small selection of songs rn which is a shame especially since a lot cost money but I hope they add more soon especially ones not on the switch.

It’s nice you can pretty much play Pripara as much as you want by doing other people’s Promises but you get so little Idollars and Likes compared to doing one you created. I’ve also found that a lot of times when I go to join a promise, it’s already full. The promise list also loads slowly. It’d also be nice if it asked if you wanted to change your Coorde before doing a Promise.

Also this is a nitpick but only Lala’s voice plays with the new Welcome to Idol Land making drama and not mychara voices. Also found a glitch where mychara voices get put as Genki even though I set mine at Ootori or whatever it’s called.

It also sucks with Live Promises you can only play as anime characters if you do official promises that have them and even then you can’t change their Coorde.

Snapshot Promises

I really enjoyed doing these in PriChan but it’s a shame that they give less Likes than Lives (at least I’ve found) and you can only take one pose pic of your character and the rest are other players characters. Like, I don’t really wanna take pics of random strangers characters lol

Photo Studio and Photos

This one’s kind of a let down. I think it’s paid only via the Monthly Pass but I forgot to check before I bought it. There’s only a handful of poses and pre-existing backgrounds and the photo quality is so crunchy?? Also speaking of photos, I kinda hate that I have to upload it to Pristagram if I want to save it in good quality to my phone. I’ve found it takes forever to upload and it doesn’t even indicate to you that it’s uploading because the screen just freezes and I had to try and upload pics twice today because it wouldn’t work the first time

Anime

Talked about it a lot before so won’t talk about it a lot here but I’m still disappointed they didn’t decided to release official English subs for the anime especially after subbing Primagi and making the game region free.

But I think the anime is the best thing to come out of the game, Amari is a great character, new songs are great and the animation is great

Other

Nitpick but it’s a shame the rank system is different now. Now it’s just rank 1 or rank 2 instead of like “Fledgling Idol” or “Kami Idol”. Also the lovely Coorde change jingle glitch that plays even if you’re not wearing a lovely Coorde that’s from the Switch still exists :/

I think that’s all I can think of rn. Overall the game could definitely be improved especially with how it took 3 years of delays to release like this. I also hope we get more character parts soon especially the fluffy pigtails because I wanna make my character Dia. Sorry this is so long lol, if you made it this far then thanks for reading