#I refuse to write otherwise

[sugurusladyknightt]

➺ suguru x gn!reader

if you set a timer to nap suguru will absolutely sabotage you.

let me set the scene. you're getting comfortable laying on his chest his arms secured around you and your eyes closing with a content hum and then suddenly your like 'oh hold on' and grab your phone to set a timer then promptly explain that you have something to do so you don't wanna oversleep during your nap and end up losing time.

but you're so tired, he knows a short nap won't be enough rest though, he says nothing. you get comfortable on his chest again, your cheeks smooshed against his skin and doze off shortly after thanks to the soothing hand at your back and head and the warmth of his skin. when you're asleep this man will fully just grab your phone and cancel the timer, that way, you get all the rest your body needs undisturbed and wake up when your ready.

if it's assignments or notes or anything really that he can do for you, then he will do it for you. taking neat concise notes for you, or finishing up your research paper. no this is not a violation of academic integrity because you are his baby. you are his person and he is yours so to anyone else you may as well be the same person, and anyway he isn't plagiarizing or cheating. suguru does a really good job actually.

when you wake up later, dry eyes slowly blinking away the sleep and readjusting to the light. the skin of your cheek turned pink from how long it's been resting against him softly greeting him in a small raspy voice. when you wake up enough to realize the timer hadn't gone off and reach over to your phone to check the time, the sleep leaves you so fast. you're frenzied, panicked, confused. as if you've been splashed with cold water. suddenly awake and upset about all the time you had wasted what about the timer? how are you supposed to finish everything now?? only for you to find everything done and neatly organized for you to look over, anything with a tight deadline? already sent in.

oh. well.. now that you have nothing that urgently needs your attention (besides him) you can lay back down on his chest and continue where you left off 🙂‍↕️

[samcarpenters]

"It really hurts Deborah's feelings. Deborah really cares about what Ava thinks, and whether or not the show is funny. So, that's where things start to really get tense." — Lucia Aniello

HACKS: S01E06, "New Eyes" / S04E05, "Clickable Face"

[erinwantstowrite]

seeing a lot of people complaining about the fics they don't see, and not enough people picking up a pen to write it themselves 🤨

[nattikay]

So apparently it's now been officially confirmed that the "Mangkwan" clan briefly mentioned at the end of The Next Shadow comics IS indeed the "ash clan" that will be featured in Fire and Ash (a lot of people speculated this before but it wasn't confirmed until now).

...which is all fine and dandy, except that kw is still not a valid consonant cluster, Karyu Pawl plz explain, the language nerds are crying 😭 Was this perhaps a typo of Mangkuan or Mangkawn? Or a new dialect that allows for more clusters? Or something else?

Right now my theory is that it's gonna be Mangkuan and the Mangkuan vs Mangkwan spelling difference will essentially be the same as Omatikaya vs Omaticaya (the first one being the technically "correct" one per Na'vi phonetics but the second still showing up in some canon material).

Part of the problem here, I think, comes down to what I'm gonna call the Cameron Paradox. James Cameron didn't create the Na'vi language; he created a small list of words, as well as all the character names (from the movies at least, idk about the comics and games), then hired linguist Paul Frommer (Karyu Pawl) to do the rest. Cameron's grammatical/phonetic/etc understanding of the language Frommer built, from what I can tell, seems to be pretty limited; those details are Frommer's realm. So it's very possible that Cameron chose the name Mangkwan because it sounded cool and simply had no idea that it's technically invalid within the sound system Frommer set up.

However...while Cameron himself isn't the one who created the Na'vi language, he does technically own it. It's a commissioned work and therefore Cameron, as the commissioner, has the power to override Frommer if he wishes. If Cameron has his heart set on "Mangkwan", Frommer doesn't really have a choice but to work around that. He might end up doing that by hand-waving it as a special spelling variation of "Mangkuan" (again like the explanation of c vs k in Omatikaya), or he might end up doing it by incorporating some sort of special new dialect rules for the Ash People. Or maybe some other solution that I haven't thought of. We just don't know yet.

...and Karyu Pawl might not actually be legally allowed to address it until after the movie's release date, so we might be waiting for a quite a while to find out ;w;

[kitswag]

A little art about a headcanon of mine for Dragon and Sabo, and a little fanfic about it under the cut

"Dragon-san," a familiar voice, Sabo's voice came knocking from the door of the cluttered office. Dragon perked up, putting down the pen he's writing with- just a follow up rough plan for the revolutionary's next strike.

The door was opened and there was Sabo with a bleeding arm. Instinctively, Dragon reached for the cabinet on his desk, pulling it open to grab for a roll of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic.

Sabo sat in front of Dragon, reaching out his roughed-up arm, his face not showing a trace of pain. (Dragon always knew the surges beneath his mask anyways.)

Dragon sighed as he saw the gnarly wound on Sabo's arm. The boy had a knack on being risky, sometimes even too keen on self sacrifice. Even though being a revolutionary always costed a price, Dragon couldn't help but worry about Sabo's knacks.

"I got a little reckless with my plans, " Sabo offered a little charming smile to Dragon (cut out the reprimands just this time?)

"I always told you to be careful. You're too good to lose, " Dragon said (again, Sabo?).

Sabo offered another cheeky smile, "Next time," he said, as if Dragon never feared for his name written on the list of fallen revolutionaries in a mission report.

When Sabo first arrived in Baltigo, still wrapped with bandages all over, not even able to move his wounded limbs freely, he would only turn to Dragon to replace his bandages, any nurses who tried to replace it would only make him flinch violently.

Dragon tapped a cotton smeared with antiseptic liquid on his arm, following it up with the roll of bandages. Soon, after falling into the familiar act of wrapping Sabo's wounds, Dragon couldn't resist the nostalgia that went flying right to his head.

But of course, they understood (despite being concerned) , that Sabo was a child, a child that had no one familiar except for Dragon in an unfamiliar, new building far far away from his home island.

When his burns healed, and when he finally got to trust the nurses, it still became a habit. He would knock on Dragon's door or tug at his coat, show his wounds, and Dragon would pull out his cabinet and fish out a bottle of antiseptic liquid and some bandages. And there it was, a repeating pattern of tapping a cotton smeared with the antiseptic against Sabo's wounds and wrapping it up with soft bandages.

Dragon always thought of it as a comforting habit.

It was not rare that he would receive reports about his fallen men, people that had died for his own cause. And being here, bandaging Sabo, feeling the warmth of his skin, reminded Dragon that his Chief of Staff, his son, was still here, still alive. Still able to go knock on Dragon's office and offer a smile and a wound.

Sabo's small hiss of pain suddenly brought Dragon abruptly out of his daze. He softened his pace and grip, finishing wrapping Sabo's arm with tying the end, cutting the excess bandage with a small pair of scissors.

"Thank you, Dragon-san, " Sabo smiled, softly.

Dragon couldn't resist reaching his hand out and ruffling Sabo's hair, "Be careful next time," he warned.

Sabo's smile turned into a grin, "This time is just a slip up. "

Dragon couldn't help but smile back. Thin, but soft with fondness for his son sitting in front of him. He pulled his hand out of Sabo's locks of blonde and hope that tomorrow, his name wouldn't be written on the list of the fallen.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Neverwinter Castle - Ch5

History perverts unite for @blupjeansweek day 5!

Read below or on Ao3. Catch up here.

-

“I’m sorry.” Barry says again. It’s compulsive, but he is sorry, he means it every time.

Lup prods him in the arm. “Stop stalling.” She borrowed his tshirt as soon as they arrived. Not that he thinks of it as his any more, he can’t remember the last time he wore it.

“I’m not stalling, I’m trying to apologi…”

Lup makes a loud static-y noise to drown him out. “C’mon! It’s documentary night and you cancelled on me last week so you owe me.” She grabs their steaming coffee mugs and heads towards the lounge, shuffling slightly in the slipper socks she keeps here.

Barry does absolutely owe her. “Okay, uh, yeah, I’ll just grab the snacks.” He supposes at some point he has to stop being sorry and be better instead, so it may as well be now. He can yell at the screen instead of himself for being an idiot. There’s no point in missing out on any more Lup time than he already has.

“It’s starting!” Lup shouts, he can see her curled up on the sofa. He loves how at home she looks here. It felt emptier without her the last few weeks, at least when she was gone for winter they called and messaged enough that it still felt like she was nearby.

Barry grabs the various bags from his snack cupboard, making sure to prioritise Lup’s favourites tonight.

“There’s aliens in Peru!” Lup shouts. “They have definitive proof!”

Barry rushes back to the sofa as fast as possible. “No.”

Lup points at the TV as the voiceover begins. “Tonight evidence from a dig site confirm definitively that there are aliens among us.”

Barry groans as he lays out the snacks. “I don’t know why I agree to do this.”

“You love it.” Lup nudges him gently with her foot.

“I do.” Barry says. She doesn’t need to know he means time with her, not the show.

“C’mon then.” She pats the seat next to her. 

Barry folds into his usual spot and lets his head fall onto Lup’s shoulder as she wraps her arm round him.

He’s going to figure out how to ask her properly soon. He has to. He promised himself this was the year… but right now he had a TV show to yell at.

“It’s been 20 minutes and they haven’t shown us anything.”

“What about that pyramid? That was sure indicative of… something.” Lup says. He doesn’t have to look away from the horrible hack job on the TV to know she’s smirking, her tone alone enough to indicate that she knows exactly what he’s about to say. 

He says it anyway, just so she laughs. “It wasn’t even in Peru, they’re not even lying well. They could literally have just filmed in Caral.”

“Babe, there was no way they were signing enough paperwork to do that.” He feels Lup shake with a laugh under him.

“I er, can’t argue with that. I bet none of them have even picked up a shovel.”

Lup points at the TV which rudely cuts to a scene of one of them, shovel in hand, doing precisely no archaeology with it. “Ooh, what did you bet? Because cha’girl just won whatever it was.”

Barry shook his head. “Nuh huh, no way. You know the Highchurch ruling on bets without both sides being clear in advance.”

Lup rolls her eyes hard. “Fine.”

Barry grins up at her, at first he’d worried when they’d started sitting like this, he wasn’t exactly a small man, he’d worried about leaning too heavily on her, but being this close to her? Wrapped in her scent, the citrus and smoke of her? It was too good to not believe her when she said she was fine.

Lup catches his eye and grins back. Barry savours it, he loves her smile, but there’s so much to love about Lup. Her intelligence, her kindness and tenacity, her tooth gap, freckles, wild hair. She’s gorgeous inside, outside, every which way. He feels Lup’s breath against his cheek and realises they’re closer together than he thought. On instinct, he glances at Lup’s lips, inadvertent, unavoidable. He’d like to kiss her again, it’s been too long since last time, friends can kiss each other, but he’d like to be more than friends, he’d like to kiss her now.

The TV plays a loud sting and they both jerk their heads back round as one to see the skeleton of the ‘alien.’

“That’s just hydrocephalus!” Barry sits up to yell at the screen better.

“Fuck me.” Lup mutters. “I thought they’d try harder than that. They’re really phoning it in and this is just… gross?”

“Urgh.” Barry reaches for the remote. 

Lup’s ahead of him and clicks the TV off. “I don’t think I can handle any more of that. I was expecting a chunk of ‘not of this earth’ spaceship metal or something.” She throws up some air quotes “these materials aren’t recognised by any human scientist.” 

Barry laughs gratefully. “Thanks. You can just tell they weren’t being respectful with the bones. Though I’m really going to have to step up my game next week to find a better one. Haunted Dig Sites of Faerun: this time it’s personal.”

“I mean… I’d watch it.” Lup shrugs.

“I’m sure I can get it funded and filmed in time. Plus, they’re clearly struggling to fill the slot if they aired this.” Barry reaches for his mug and drains the last of his coffee. 

He eyes his clock in the process, Lup will have to leave now if she wants to catch the bus home… he hopes she doesn’t.

Lup tracks his line of vision and raises her eyebrows. “Don’t suppose you’ve got room for a guest tonight?” She asks.

There’s always room for Lup.

–

Barry wakes up tangled in Lup, it’s his favourite way to start the day. It’s been a long time since they gave up the pretence of one of them taking the sofa, it just makes sense that they both get to be comfortable. She’s sprawled across him, face buried in his chest, but, as much as he’d love to, there’s no time to luxuriate in it, they have to get to work.

He nudges her gently, is gratified when she worms closer, nuzzling her face against him.

“Hey, Lup.” He rubs her shoulder. “We’ve got to head to work soon.”

“Mrugh.” She replies.

“Mmhm, murgh indeed.” Barry nods sagely.

It’s enough to get her to crack open an unimpressed eye to glare at him.

“Rude.”

“Hey now, you said it, not me.” 

Lup laughs softly, then flips herself up out of bed. He appreciates the ease of it, the lack of awkwardness, the lack of embarrassment. When she first started staying over the mornings had always been tricky to navigate, probably because he was a blushing mess more than anything. Lup had definitely been good for his confidence.

“C’mon Bluejeans, we’re going to be late!” She reaches out a hand to help him up too.

“Hey, I was the one that woke you up!”

“Sure, sure.” Lup says, smiling.

Barry laughs as he grabs his clothes.

The morning routine is well practiced. It’s Lup’s turn to shower first while Barry preps the coffee machine. She’ll brew up and decant into their travel mugs while he gets ready. He absentmindedly grabs one of the bananas he keeps on hand for her too. 

–

Once everyone has arrived, grabbed their drinks, the consolation snacks to apologise for the early morning, and settled into their chairs Barry stands.

“Uh, thank you all for coming to JoustFest planning, I know we’re a bit earlier than usual, so I, er, well, I appreciate you all.” Barry plonks himself back into his chair as fast as humanly possible.

“Julia, can you give us an update on where you’re up to?” Barry turns to Julia, she and Magnus are wearing matching wild rags today, which probably means they’ve been outside even more than usual. He’s going to take that as a good sign, although he hopes the prep hasn’t been too overwhelming.

“Jupdate.” Taako interrupts quickly.

Barry sighs for the performance of resistance, Taako will enjoy his win more that way.  “Sorry Julia, can I have the jupdate?”

She nods. “Absolutely, armour repairs sorted, lances balanced, and we have a full compliment of riders. Everyone’s looking forward to it, including me.”

“I still really think it’s my year.” Magnus says.

“Uh huh.” Julia doesn’t look concerned about losing her four year winning streak.

“Thank you both. Is there anything you need from us?” Barry asks. He knows they’re old hat at this now, they certainly know what they’re doing, but he doesn’t want them to feel abandoned to the task.

Julia ponders a moment, runs a thoughtful hand though her freshly buzzed hair, and replies. “Mostly just cheering.  Oh, but Taako, if you could save us some of the pies?”

“Natch.” Taako waves a hand dismissively. “They’ll go fast, but Taako’ll keep some by for you.”

They both smile gratefully.

“How’re sales going?” Lup asks, turning to Barry. 

“Well, we’re at, uh…” He double checks his notes. “...93% capacity and we’re still a few weeks out.” Barry is proud, word of mouth carried them a long way from the build up over the last few events, but the team plan for advertising had definitely boosted sales.

“Want me to do a push on the socials?” Ren asks. “I have that video of Magnus tri…”

“Nope.” Magnus vetoes.

“Fine. Maybe we could get another one of practice. I can do some slow motion stuff, get you taking off your helmet and shaking out your hair, Magnus. Maybe Julia doing some smithing?” Ren suggests.

Barry makes some notes.

“Are you suggesting we thirst trap our sweet innocent Burnsides?” Lup asks.

Barry snorts as Taako mutters “grossarooni.”

“Advertising is about what the people like, and it’s what the people like.” Ren shrugs.

“What can we say? We appeal to the history perverts.” Julia flexes an impressive bicep. 

“And, to be fair, history perverts are probably our target demographic.” Barry says, keeping his voice as even as possible.

Taako glares at him. “Don’t encourage them, Barold.”

“I’ve seen the post about the new scones.” Barry raises an eyebrow.

“Exactly, Taako knows we appreciate bakery perverts too.”

The meeting descends into chaos from there. Barry’s not sure he’d have it any other way.

[tickfleato]

i feel pretty confident in my ability to accurately write rutile but oh my god. i forgot that trying to sus out the exact personality of a character who spends 99% of the story asleep is hard and by nature requires extrapolation and personal interpretation

[da3drat]

all I want to do is put my little guys in situations but I have a bio exam in 2 hours and I haven't been to class in weeks (oops the disability is disabilitying) so I Have To Focus but this weekend..... ohhhhh this weekend.

[thedorkurge]

Hey, so um. (Help, I can't stop thinking about this! And I partly blame you for developing a Default Durge obsession.)

Would you please share your HC about Durge's sexuality? Is he turned on by (non/sexual) violence, pain, power play? In your fics it's mentioned he has a bit of a breeding kink but never made any kids. Do people just tend to not survive the act and he doesn't care? Is it a gender preference? Is he so annoyed by all living things that he just prefers them dead? Is that why he's so confused by wanting Gortash alive?

(The questions will likely continue and unhingedness may escalate until you ask me to stop, lol.)

Thanks ❤️😁

Thank you for asking! I'm always happy to yap about my fics❤️

Okay, i'm gonna put this under a readmore because it might get kinda long. And uh...cw for Durge stuff

In my canon, Durge's sex drive is pretty much an extension of his urges. That's how he sees it, just another physical urge that he has a right (and sometimes a duty) to indulge in. Murder triggers it, and when that happens he doesn't really care how he finds release, be it with corpses or living people. It's just a natural extension of his worship, another urge to add to the mix.

And in the heat of the moment it's like another form of worship, because of Bhaal's obsession with offspring, which means that Durge's mind is going to turn towards the most Bhaal-approved purpose of sex; reproduction. It's all really on the same level to him, murder and sex, all ways for him to fulfill a purpose. But that doesn't mean he actually has to find the idea of baby bhaalspawn appealing after the deed is done. So in my fics it's usually a case of his lovers either being dead before they start or after. If someone survived, because he briefly managed to convince himself that kids were a good idea, there's no way he actually lets them live for the full 9 months it would take- too many chances to change his mind (I actually had a line about this that i cut from a fic. I figured fetus sacrifice was a bit much. Suffice to say that he was very unimpressed with the whole idea of baby Durges).

There's also the whole "ecstasy of murder" thing, where he probably gets way more enjoyment out of killing his partner than they could ever give him while alive.

Another bhaalspawn is a rather pointless sacrifice at best, competition at worst. Like, he could have the baby just to sacrifice it, but it's a pretty neutral act, you know? He created a life just to take it, so it brings him no closer to his ultimate goal of snuffing out all life. Also, it's a point of pride that he's the ultimate Bhaalspawn, and Bhaal won't need anyone else- especially not some half-breed. And if The Dark Urge just does his job well enough, that will more than make up for the horde he could have produced in the meantime.

When he's with Enver, however, that's a pretty safe line of thought to indulge in, because he physically can't get him pregnant, so it's way safer to think about than murder, which is always a very real risk. And I think Enver is the first time that Durge is turned on by anything about the actual person (apart from basic physical features. I do think he is attracted to physical features, especially very soft and human features because it seems quite fragile and fleshy and mortal to him. Very warm blooded and appealing to kill.). Like, power, intelligence, authority, the back-and-forth they develop. Not because Enver is completely unique or they're "soulmates" or anything, just because it's the first time he's actually had to pay attention to another person on that level and consider them an equal. And that means that there's more at stake when they start sleeping together, AND a perfectly reasonable excuse for both himself and his dad for keeping Enver alive (the plan). And of course he gets attached, because that makes Enver special in his mind.

All in all, sex is just a very natural part of life to him, and he has no real shame about it, because he grew up in the temple where it was pretty much expected and celebrated.

[spider-stark]

istg, every time i write for matt it goes GREAT right up until the moment where i have to actually put him into the goddamn fic.

wrote 1,500 words yesterday for a piece based off some lyrics from The Black Dog. it was a breeze! the first scene was a conversation with Karen, the second some internal reflection.

but the third?

when matt actually has to show the fuck up?

full stop. creativity dead. words? gone.

bullshit.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Not entirely sure what would a driad be in the hanahaki au, but I just saw amazing post cross my dash about algae-covered snake and remembered this immediately! Would the driad be what's left of a human fully consumed by the feelings or something (someone??) that's left if they were close to succumbing to it but managed to express themselves at the last moment? If it's the latter imagine the Turnabout Samurai in this AU and Dee Vasquez! Breakdowns of certain characters creating the driads something something...

(Also I think I accidentally unfollowed you at some point 🥲 Sorry!! I didn't mean to)

I dryad is what I've called the people who have a very severe and chronic version of hanahaki and then succumb to the disease. The flowers are the mild (fairly common but occasionally deadly) version. If you get a crush and don't tell them or if you love your friends a whole lot and Don't tell them (or show them) than the flowers might take root. It's a disease process so some people are more susceptible than others and some people are higher risk (emotionally constipated folk). It's not a disease without pluses though, its been known to increase the survival changes of people trapped in low oxygen environments.

There's a slow and rapid onset for the more severe form of the disease that results in dryad-ism. The slow onset occurs in people who lose a loved one- not always via death. Having a child taken away or divorce are common routes. If they can't find a way to express that love (grieving/reconciliation/letting go) the disease will latch onto that constant trapped love and the victims slowly turn to wood. Growing branches. Moving slower and slower until they can no longer move at all. (You'll see these people growing into bar stools. Alcohol does dull the heart, slow the growth but those unwilling or unable to seek help often find themselves dying from one or the other eventually) At that point they put out roots and there is nothing left to do but plant them in the dirt.

Traumatic loss can cause a more rapid progression of the severe form as well, especially in those already suffering the mild version. The unexpected loss of a child or parent are frequent causes of an outbreak. The body tries to wall off the loss in wood. Sometimes it succeeds- resulting in people with wooden limbs, immobile shoulders. Grief festering but not overtaking them. Not yet.

Hanahaki thrives on love unexpressed. Romantic or platonic, it cares not. And how do you love someone who is no longer here? That question leaves its own graveyard with the faces of men. Gnarled branches reaching to the heavens like they might find the one they miss there.

I don't think Vasquez would be affected, the had no love for those men. Adrien Andrews would be. The shoulder Celeste always squeezed would be ridged. Its growth halted by her obsession with making Juan Corrida pay. Maybe after she gets her revenge the wood will separate from the skin and leave her pink and healing- or scarred but alive.

"You are innocent Miles Edgeworth. You were innocent." and the wood that has creeped down his arm to the elbow and across his chest will slough off like a healed scab. Like it hasn't grown inch by inch year after year for the last fifteen.

And still there are people who despite all there loss and pain do not grow a branch or flower at all. 'Heartless' people as some say. But Mia Fey is not heartless, she is driven. The Fey can always hold the dead once more- their love is never lost to death. The one's she misses still have beating hearts. And she will make a world for them if she must claw it into existence with her own bleeding hands. Her love is written in every briefing and late night and every cup of coffee she brews. It's just not a love most people understand. It is in those motions that Phoenix and Gumshoe stay safe.

Hanahaki is love with no where left to go. But in tending their office, sister, plants, or grave- love still has somewhere to go. Grief will not over take them, so long as their is still work to be done.

[gingerdusk]

I think Link should have kept the arm.

[mayasdeluca]

Barrett/Vic wearing the Captain’s helmet while filming the 100th episode. Let the speculation begin!

[memorys-skyscraper]

taking donations of any and all good employment-related vibes rn

[king7doms]

I do enjoy writing muses that people want to write against, so if you have any suggestions, hit me at any time, particularly if you actually have plots in mind.

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Since the pre-chapter art is done, today I plan on doing an edit-through of the first few parts of the chapter before my second job. I want to save the back half for tomorrow because I know it's the part I'm going to need to give the most attention to in terms of a final edit.

And then on Sunday, I'll go through and give EVERYTHING one last edit-through and finally post~!